On Saturday, I walked home from the hospital – that’s how close it is to our new home.
Well, perhaps walking is an overstatement.
I cling to Rob’s arm and waddle slowly. While elevation of the leg is part of the treatment for cellulitis, once the inflammation has cleared, it is important to walk, as the calf muscle is the pump that makes the lymphatic system work and reduce swelling.
The walk is made even slower by the fact that I want to stop and exclaim at everything, which appears luminous with colour – especially after having lived behind a yellow curtain in a hospital room for the past week.
Outside Tanglin Post Office, I stop to admire a type of bird of paradise with a creamy lemon and ruby red flower that is growing next to the footpath.
“Come on!” says Rob, who is carrying my bags. Having been in Singapore for two months already, the novelty of seeing tropical flowers everywhere, rather than just in a hot house at the Fitzroy Gardens Observatory, has somewhat worn off.
Naturally, when we arrive home five minutes later, I am exhausted – and sweaty.
I lie on the couch, admiring the lattice of light green foliage from the many pots on the patio, and then, having worked up an appetite, offer to make a sandwich for lunch.
“Can you manage that?” Rob asks in amazement.
“Can, can lah!” I reply.
Yes, it’s happening already. The week in hospital gave me a crash course in Singlish. A few days earlier, as Dr Lim is sticking yet another needle in my hand, I exclaim involuntarily: “Torture, lah!” – to the great surprise and amusement of the nurses.
Like Australia, Singapore is a nation of immigrants, and Singlish is the result: a blend of Chinese, Malay, English, Tamil and local dialects.
So next time I am faced with a medical emergency I will dial triple jilo, and ask the ambulance to chop chop.
But for now, even making a sandwich is an effort.
In fact, I am so blur all I can do is relak on the couch and use eyepower as Rob unpacks and organises everything and makes me a cup of teh.
Correction: In case of emergency in Singapore you should dial 999 – not triple jilo, my friend Ida informs me. However, it is triple jilo in Melbourne.
I want one of those plants, lah!