My husband and I were on the hotel bed, I snuggled into his arms as we listened to the music and the occasional voice of the emcee that drifted up to our floor. It was New Year eve and we could hear the revelers having a good time at the poolside area.

We hadn’t gone anywhere since the time we checked into the hotel. Dinner was ordered through room service. Right after dinner, I received a call from my brother who informed me that my customer had died suddenly of a heart attack. If I were the superstitious type I would have thought it was a bad omen. We simply couldn’t believe the sudden demise of someone who had appeared to be healthy.

We just wanted to hole ourselves up in the room and held onto each other with a feeling of anxiety. We didn’t talk about his pending operation even though we were dreading it. It was hard on my part to keep quiet about things that I would like to talk about. However, I kept up the pretence that everything was normal. So we spent a quiet evening in the room. And down by the poolside the emcee was into another game with the revelers. This time it was for the revelers to get the stuff he announced over the microphone.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0...it was the countdown to the New Year. The revelers welcomed the New Year boisterously. In contrast, we tried to sleep and were determined to keep out the worries so as not to sleep fitfully.

After breakfast, we checked into the hospital. My husband went through a series of check-ups before he was given green light to undergo the operation the next day.

During visiting hours, a stream of well-wishers consisted of relatives and friends who came to visit. My late friend was one of them. I’ll always remember her cheerfulness in the face of adversity. At that time I didn’t know she’d had only a few more months to live. She was stricken with cancer, the second time around. It was an inoperable liver cancer.

In the evening, the surgeon dropped by to check on my husband. We had to believe that he would do a good job. It would have been very comforting to believe that.

Next morning, my husband was administered anesthetics by the anesthetist. Shortly, he was wheeled into the operation room. Three of his friends turned up but my husband was already knocked out by the anesthetics to realize their presence.

I was all alone in the waiting room. The waiting seemed to take ages. It could have been a few minutes but I wasn’t checking. Then a woman came into the room. We just exchanged smiles. I wasn’t in a sociable mood.

Even though I kept to myself, I couldn’t help being aware of the goings-on in the waiting room. Right after the arrival of the woman, she was followed by a relative and then shortly by her husband and her son.

The coming and going of people who were all centered round this family. I’d gathered by bits and pieces of their conversations that it was the couple’s elder son who was hospitalized. He was in a coma. I suspected that he was suffering from meningitis, the bacterial kind.

Church members turned up to give them moral support. I was startled by the sudden chanting of hallelujah. I silently prayed that the boy unbeknownst to me would regain his consciousness.

The mother was highly excited when she returned from spending time with her son. She called her family doctor to inform him that she saw her son’s eye twitch. The doctor responded by coming personally to the hospital. The mother took the doctor to see her son. A while later she returned with disappointment. It was a false alarm.

It must have been hours as I watched the touching drama unfolded before my eyes. I really felt for the family in their helplessness. Yet when the husband and wife had moments to themselves, they offered words of comfort when I told them my husband was undergoing coronary bypass surgery.

“What, you put away the school bag somewhere else! I want you to put it back on the same spot right now.” The mother was so agitated on the phone.

The mother must have felt if the school bag was removed from its normal place, the only constancy would have been gone. Apart from the faith in their son’s doctor, all they had were prayers and miracle. She didn’t need bad omen.

The phone in the waiting room rang. It was a call for me to inform me that the operation was over.