A Visit to the IJN

Prior to this day, I have never stepped foot into the Institut Jantung Negara. Though before I passed by it almost daily, it never occurred to my mind of what really goes on inside. I had, then, thought IJN is a hospital for the rich and famous, catering to the needs of heart patients as its name would suggest. My visit there earlier today to ziarah pakngah has opened my eyes a wee bit wider.

I was thinking about putting a slight humour about this visit but then thought it may not be proper. Well, perhaps towards then end...maybe. Mind you, I am not even a comic nor a jester, but just a clown who goes by his daily routine and wondering when the day itself would cease to exist...for me. Afterall, the world is a temporary passage for the eternal world hereafter.

I hate going visiting people in the hospitals, I really do. Not for anything, they remind me of the suffering which at many a time, I am incapable to assist even in the smallest physical manner possible; the only recourse we as His humble servants can do is to pray to Allah s.w.t. to forgive and enlighten the burden of a brother, another human like you and I, who is incapable of anything but which He decrees and gives.

Pakngah looked healthy for someone whom I thought I would find lying helpless on the bed feeling sick and all. In fact, his bed was propped up so he may read newspaper as did his father sitting on the chair beside the bed. On my giving the salam, both faces lit up with sincere smiles radiating from their faces. But let not the smiles fool you an instant bit.

Even as I shook hands with Pakngah, I could see many plastic tubes extruding from various parts of his body as well as a thick bandage on his left arm. Both sides of his neck were punctured with one side bandaged to hold a long tube which I was later informed, used for the hemodialysis process - the veins of his left arm were left to heal and rest from past puncture wounds.

As I politely took the seat Pakngah's father offered me, I noticed a bulge under the robes of his right ribs, and 2 more long plastic tubes leading from it to 2 containers already filled with red liquid - his blood! The surgeons at IJN had inserted the tubes to drain the blood from his lungs. Within the space of 6 days Pakngah has been at IJN, he has received 6 pints of blood already to replace those lost!

The whole ordeal began when the clinic he went to tried to use the veins on his right neck for the hemodialysis process. Somehow the technician or doctor on duty had pushed the wire through a wrong entry that led straight to the lungs, puncturing a wound along the way which led to the internal bleeding.

I relayed the advice I received from Cikgu, Doc TA, kerp and Pak Zabs in the previous entry regarding making a police report and such but was informed, much to my and especially Pakngah's family relief, that IJN had waived all charges. Alhamdulilah. But that does in no way absolved what transpired. Still, the father seem to agree to make the report just to be on the safe side should any parties later have a change of mind, and the family finding themselves saddled with a bill in excess of RM5,000 which they cannot afford.

As I passed the RM150 our brother Mat Salo had given earlier for Pakngah, a nurse walked into the cubicle with a tray filled with towels and 2 basins of water. I gathered its cleaning time but just could not resist shedding the sombre mood setting in and gave a shot at the nurse: "He already has a bed and a retinue of people looking after him; why don't you clean me instead?" It did cause even the people in the next cubicle to laugh, proving yet again I do make a good clown. And like any clown, I took my leave before jade sets in.