Memory loss is strange. It’s like showing up for a movie after it’s started. I’m sure I’ve missed something. I do the best I can to lose myself in the story and hope the gaps don’t matter. Later, I can look it up, or someone will remind me, or maybe it’s perfectly fine to not know.
– Elizabeth Langston, author
Perhaps my short ‘escape’ from the ward of Sarawak General Hospital in early January 1991 was taken for granted. That is, I wasn’t really aware that I was breaking the rule – if there was any.
In the first place, it was my brother-in-law Fabian, who thought it was wise for him to bring me out, in my hospital attire (the shirt) but putting on a long pants. I remember he brought me to a salon in Batu Lintang for a hair wash and to Rumah Dayak where I was allowed to play two rounds of card games with some familiar faces there. And by the time we were back, I came across my brother Jon who just came from Saratok downstairs the SGH.
When we reached my hospital bed (on 4th floor?), there was a big group of people who were anxious to meet me during the visiting hours (from 5pm to 7pm).
It must be in the fourth or fifth week of my stay in SGH as I was able to remember part of the occurrences. For the record, I was brought to SGH from Lau King Howe Hospital Sibu using an aeroplane, occupying six seats plus a hospital assistant and my eldest brother Edward, so I was told much later. And when I fully recovered and went back to school duty in March 1991, I had to prepare a service order to cover the costs of the Sibu-Kuching air flights.
I could not recall anything clearly at all during the first three weeks in SGH. All were blurred memories. According to a report (which was given later after my discharge) I was suffering from cerebral concussion due to the accident which cost the lives of my firstborn daughter Garcia Ann Kejuang and my niece Daphne Cherini Low. Every time the doctor came around, she would check my eyes using torchlight – at least twice a day. And I was given some pills too.
On concussion, Google says the symptoms range from mild to severe and can last for hours, days, weeks, or even months. Common signs and symptoms of a concussion include confusion or feeling as if in a fog and memory loss surrounding the traumatic event.
From the start, those looking after me, namely my wife (now ex-wife) knew about my situation (brain concussion) and let me go my way, including getting me a guitar (thanks to uncle Datuk Musa Giri) that I played (despite in mourning for two children who died in the accident) happily. There was a notice in English against asking me about the accident but my spouse told me about their demise shortly before I was discharged.
In fact I was entitled to stay in First Class being an A11 (senior time) grade civil servant but my wife refused the offer. And so I was in Second Class ward, but most of the time alone in the room with whomever among my family was to look after me – most of the time my wife was accompanying me.
During the seven weeks in SGH, I was free to move though I couldn’t remember most of the episodes in the first three or four weeks. It must be the vital hours and days of the Gulf War in December of 1990.
The fatal crash was on Dec 14 that year along Durin road, just after getting across the ferry on the way to Sibu. I was driving the four of us in a Honda Ballade when we were involved in the crash at Durin.
My wife and I survived while the two kids died – Garcia on the spot while Daphne died shortly later in the hospital. Strangely for me, all memories from that point (of the crash) were totally erased – up till now.
I didn’t know that I spent a week in the ICU of LKH Hospital in Sibu and that my two close Foochow friends who came to visit me understood the situation when I blamed them for not bringing the mah-jong set, so I was told later. When we reached Kuching and upon embarking from the aeroplane I played eyes with my sister-in-law (so I was told later too), thus naughty me helped lighten the situation.
Jon was worried in the second and third week as he noticed I was always walking in and out of my room and once I did say I was trying to “sample” the height of the fourth floor. But good thing, I never made an attempt of jumping.
Once he had to climb the toilet after noticing that I made no noise inside – in fact I was sleeping, while sitting down on the toilet bowl.
Another hilarious moment was when somebody asked me whether my parents did visit me to which I answered: “Yes they did, they just returned to Balingian.” My wife who heard the answer just smiled to herself as she knew my mother was dead two years earlier and that my dad did not come for a visit at all.
The views expressed here are those of the columnist and do not necessarily represent the views of New Sarawak Tribune.
