Part 6: The Journey Home

This is me after 2 weeks in the hospital. I feel much better and according to some; look better too! (After what I had to go through, please allow me this little bit of self-appreciation). I lost 4.5 kg! I am now much more independent but still had to go around in crutches. According to my doctor it will take months before I could finally walk without them. Once the doctor said that, I figured; if I'm going to be around in crutches, I might as well do it in style - so I went to Amazon and ordered a pair with more stylish and quite a sporty look...

The only thing that bothering me was, almost like clockwork, for the last three days I would be woken up at around 5:00 am every morning and will be having a terrible radiating pain in my entire left leg. The problematic leg last time was the right one but for some reason now it's shifting to the left? I mentioned that to three different doctors and all said that, "You just had two major spinal surgeries within a span of 48 hours just less than a week ago. You should 'expect' to be in pain...!" I guess they're right... and furthermore it only came once a day in the early morning and normally would just go away with a dose of painkiller.

For the few days after that we were busy making all the arrangements to get home. Due to flight availability, we had to shift one day to Monday, 10 December 2012. Thanks to the efficient support system that I had, between the insurance company, my office and our HR department, all have been set for us to go on Monday evening. It will be wheelchair - ambulance - wheelchair - aeroplane - wheelchair - ambulance - home!

Oh, I forgot to mention earlier - my surgeon, Dr. Jan Bodnar happens to be a biker too! Everyday when he comes and visit me, we would talk about my recovery first and then quickly switch to bikes. He even brought me motorbike magazines for me to read. So, on behalf of those who said that I should not be riding my motorbikes again, I asked him, "Can I ride my motorbikes again?" "Of course...!" he said. "I'll fixed you and you'll be back on your motorbikes as soon as you get back!" And of course, for the record; I made him repeat that in front of Zarina again...

This was the picture I put on my Facebook the afternoon before we left London that evening and captioned it, "I'm going home today! Last pic with the man who saved my life - Dr. Jan Bodnar." For good effect, he actually threw my crutches aside and held me on my shoulder. If he had let me go that moment, I would have tumbled to the floor in seconds!

The day finally arrived. I had my last doner kebab for lunch and then we started getting ready for the journey home. I was so excited I didn't remember to take a single picture! As I was pushed on the wheelchair out of the ward I just realized that I have not left the ward for a whole 2 weeks. The ambulance driver let me sit in the front passenger seat next to her and for the first time I get to see road view after have been travelling lying down on a stretcher for the last two trips. I get to see the busy traffic in Hammersmith (we passed by my favourite kebab shop!) and then along A4 and M4. I felt alive again...!

The airport was busy but the lucky thing about being on a wheelchair is you get to cut all the queues. Funny how my secretary had offered to arrange for me a wheelchair every time I had to travel during any of my sciatica attack episodes but I just brushed her off again and again, and finally I had no choice but to go on one! I can almost picture her with her victorious smile... Anyway, it wasn't that bad being an OKU after all... Other than the security at the scanning machine, everyone else was super-nice to me...

In the flight, it so happened that the head steward for that flight is the same one from my incoming flight so all the crew members were well aware of my condition - which is, in a way good. Nevertheless, despite being able to lie flat this time, I still get some radiating pain in my left leg. I check the time and realize it was my '5:00 am pain' again. A few painkiller tablets help this time. I'm not sure whether to be worried or not but I was really hoping that this is just a case of decompression and compression and also the vibration on the aircraft and assured myself that I would be fine... I couldn't really enjoy the luxurious treatment due to the pain but I am glad enough that it was nowhere near as bad as on the way in. And besides, this time I'm heading home instead.

I wasn't expecting a grand welcome, in fact I wasn't expecting any kind of welcome but as it turned out there there was 4 of my colleagues, with teddy bear and stuffs and all waiting for me at the arrival hall! Such an icing on the cake for a sweet end to the ordeal. Just a short ambulance ride away then I had all my kids in my arms again...

I finally get to sleep in my own bed again that night... with my beloved wife next to me and all the three kids on a futon on our bedroom floor - upon their request. We were reunited again as a family... I dreamt a happy dream that I was walking again that night... only to be woken up at 5:00 am (somehow the pain knows how to change the time zone by itself!) and this time it was one of the worst! Iman, my daughter, was woken up by my muffled scream of pain and sat next to my bed until the pain went away after an hour... again with the help of my good friend, "Tramadol".

The rest of the next day was quickly back to normal. In fact, just like one of our normal day except I needed my crutches to go anywhere and would every now and then need to ask for help from my three kids. I'm so glad that they willingly and happily helped. In a way I felt closer to them.

When Zarina didn't notice, I would sneak out and have a look and even tinker a bit with my koi pond. She was still adamant that the koi pond was to be blamed for my back pain that leads to these. A pile of DIY stuffs were still lying around on my porch from the last 'pond improvement' project before I left for Milan. By the look of it; they're going to be there for a while...

That night I got clever. I set my alarm clock at 4:00 am, so that I could get up, take my painkiller pills and avoid my 5:00 am pain... and it worked!!! Well, at least it was not as painful as the few nights before. In any case, I have my follow-up appointment with my neurosurgeon in PCMC that day so I'm sure he'll be able to fix it somehow...

Part 5: The Recovery (Day 6 to 14)

It was a fairly fast recovery indeed. From making the first step on the third day after the surgery, I managed to make 3 steps forward and 3 steps back on the fourth day, then daily increase to 10 steps, 30 steps and also upgraded myself from walking frame to elbow crutches. The crutches are my best friends now. I would not go anywhere without them, literally! They took the IV line off and most of my systems are working normally by now except for the legs. Being able to sit up straight to have my meal is already a huge blessing.

But then again, being in the High Dependency Care unit, especially one for neuro patients, while you're already fully alert and almost able to be independent is not very comfortable. I know; I was once one of them too but now that I'm not, I just need a calmer, quieter and less depressing place in order to expedite my recovery.

After a bit of hassle with the insurance company, NHS rep and the private wing admission staffs, I finally get to move to the private floor on Day 8 to the comfort of a single room, nice food and service and most importantly, Zarina can come in and visit almost anytime. She could not spend the night there but at least she could come in earlier in the morning as opposed to only after 2:00 pm in the other ward. Nevertheless, it's winter in London and sometimes she had to brace herself through as low as -2°C in the morning, in the wet and windy UK weather and then walk back again alone in the darkness of winter night. That does make me feel a bit guilty but I guess we did make a promise at one time to each other that we will be there for one another no matter what. I would have done exactly the same, if not more, for her.

In the comfort (actually maybe a bit more on the 'luxury' side) of the private room I finally managed to get a proper shower and shave and now felt a lot better. Now the fast-track recovery process can begin!

By the way, Zarina and I had this weird ritual. Everyday I would order food from the hospital menu for my meal of the day - which are quite nice actually. Then I made her eat them. In return, what I asked from her is to go out and buy me doner kebab. I still feel that the best doner kebab has to be those in London! She found this kebab shop not very far from the hospital and on the way from her hotel. So, everyday I was having kebab, and sometimes shwarma, grilled chicken, etc. It's like I was never in an English country...! After all, I'm not quite a fish and chips kinda guy...

The recovery process continues and before I knew it, I was already walking around the ward greeting nurses and hospital staffs. By now, many more knew the story of me, 'the unexpected guest'. A few days in the private ward later I finally got to the "advanced" level of training i.e. climbing stairs etc. I felt that I'm ready to go home now so one day I asked the Consultant to estimate when I can go home. This has to be under the condition that I am fit to endure the 13 hours flight home. He said within a week or so but I told him let's decide on a date. I work better with a target (probably something I picked up after 18 years of managing projects!) so he originally target for Sunday, 9th December. Then I made him detailed out a plan on what I need to do day-by-day in terms of my physio training and also medication in order to achieve the 9th December target. He said, "You're a KPI man, aren't you?"

One really flattering part was that; apart from Shahfree, Hakimi, Naz and Auntie Amah; there were hordes of visitors from all over! I lost count after Day 6 so I will not mention names here in case I missed anyone and later would feel bad about it. Some of them whom we remembered to take pictures with are further below. They were basically relatives, colleagues and friends in London and other colleagues and friends who happened to be in London or some who were travelling via London (some actually diverted their route just to have a transit in London). There were also those from Europe who even flew in just to visit!

Some might already know that in western cultures, they don't really visit people in hospitals except of course for close families and relatives or in the case of those who'd been in the hospital for a long period. So other than a few Asians or Middle Eastern patients' visitors, there were not many other visitors except maybe mine. The truth is, there has not been a single day that I had not had a visitor! One of the nurses said, "Your visitors come from all over the world! You must be a very important person". I said, "No, I'm not. I just happen to have many many good friends..."

I was really really touched by all the visits. The thought that kept lingering in my mind every time was how these people genuinely cared about Zarina and me. I am so lucky to have all these great people in my life... I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of you. Thanks also for all the nice and thoughtful gifts. You wouldn't believe what kind of food people brought us; nasi lemak, nasi with like more than 7 lauk-pauk and all sorts of thing! You guys really made our day and our stay there a joyful one despite the circumstances we were in.

... and of course this one is worth a special mention... Look what my staffs posted on my Facebook page...

           

With all these support, I'm sure I'll be home in no time!

>>> Next episode: The Journey Home

Part 4: Another Operation??? (Day 4 and 5)

I woke up the next morning thinking about what was going to happen that day. What if the MRI show something that 'shouldn't be there' and hence they would need to operate again? At that point in time the possibility of going under the knife again was simply unthinkable. Everything that happened for the last four days was already unbearable; I just couldn't take anymore of this. It even crossed my mind to ask the doctor to just allow me to endure the remaining pain and just let me go home. After all, the worst is over... I can handle it better from there I'm sure.

I never felt so alone and helpless... but my prayers were quickly answered. Zarina (my beloved wife, for those who doesn't know) arrived at around 11:00 in the morning. I just could not describe in words how relieved I was to finally see the face of my loved one - my source of strength. We hugged for what seems like an eternity and both cried in relief. With her beside me now; I could take anything! Thanks to PETRONAS who flew her in!

The MRI was done soon after and in the meantime Zarina went to check in into her hotel nearby the hospital. I was not so much in pain now so the procedure went effortlessly. 

Later in the day, my doctor came in and dropped the bad news. The MRI showed that there are still some fragments of the disc left in the L4/L5 region and the only way to fix it is to go in again! He explained at length of the bigger risks now in doing a second surgery on GA very close to the first one (only 48 hours apart!) but the risk of not doing it is permanent damage to my nerves. His advice was that it is better to go in quickly before it scarred and fix it once and for all. We had no other choice but to put our whole trust in the doctors and agreed to go ahead with the second operation.

Despite the emotional boost of having Zarina around, I was still very very scared... Nevertheless it was also comforting to see the pouring messages on Facebook and personal messages wishing me for a successful operation and speedy recovery. I also learnt later that many conducted sembahyang hajat for my safety in the operation. My thought of the day was; be close to relatives and friends and be nice to all of them - their kindness, thoughts and prayers will help you in your time of need. I'm so glad and felt so blessed that I have so many of them who genuinely care about me...

They wheeled me in to the OT at about 7 pm that evening while Zarina and Naz were waiting outside. I was already so familiar with the routine by now and thanks to all the prayers and kind wishes - I felt a bit calm. The next thing I know was that I woke up and Zarina was there holding my hand at about 1:00 am the next day. I was told that it was yet another successful surgery. I was so tired that night I drifted to sleep rather easily but my last remaining thoughts was all about looking forward for the next morning to begin my recovery process...!

I woke up the next day, still in the High Dependency Unit ward but with a renewed hope. My calendar alarm on my BlackBerry reminded me that today, 1st December, is my 18th year anniversary working with PETRONAS. Coincidentally, today the hospital dressed me up in the PETRONAS colour! Now, what a way to start!

[Note: I was careful not to 'inappropriately' smile this time]

As I still had the IV line and some other things on me, they wouldn't let me start my physio just yet. I also realized that I was still a bit tired so I wouldn't mind just lying down for the rest of the day. After all, I have Zarina with me now. We spent the time catching up with what had happened in the last few days. It wasn't easy for her as well. Having to leave behind our three kids; she had to make all sorts of arrangements for them and even during the last few hours before catching the flight to London she was still running around sorting out stuffs. Since this is still an open ward, she was asked to leave at 8:00 pm, after the visiting hours had ended. But it is still comforting to know that she is just a walking distance away.

They started my rehab physio from Day 2 after the operation. I'm lucky that my physio therapist is a bubbly and very energetic young lady. I managed to stand up with the aid of the physio therapist and a walking frame but I was stunned when for the first time, I couldn't bring neither one of my foot to step forward! The therapist had to keep reassuring me that this is normal after such major surgeries and I had not lost any of my leg functions. It is just that the nerves are a bit haywire after the second surgery, after having been compressed for long and then being disturbed so much during the process. I too had to keep reassuring myself that I will be able to walk again... soon... I will just have to work hard for it. It might be a long process but I'm determined to make it as quick as I can.

My Facebook status of the day was "Second day of recovery after the second surgery. It seems harder this time to regain strength and flexibility but alhamdulillah the worst is over. I managed to be on my feet for the first time this morning with a walker but still could not make any steps. Thoughts of the day: Count your daily blessings from Allah. Even being able to stand up and take a step with your foot today is a blessing. Imagine those who can't"

This experience has really humbled me as a person...

Part 3: The Operation (Day 2 and 3)

It was a much longer ride in the ambulance this time but at least I did not feel sick. A thought ran across my mind - I was wondering; how many Malaysians can claim to have had a ride in an ambulance during the rush hour in Central London? Not many I guess...

I learnt later that Charing Cross Hospital (which is the University Hospital for Imperial College of London) has the best neuro surgery facilities and specialists in London. It's good to know that I will be in very good hands.

We arrived there and I was immediately wheeled into the neuro ward. In a very brief moment the doctor came in and explained to me about my condition and what was going to happen during the surgery. What happened was, my entire disc has prolapsed and hitting on all the nerves - which is the reason why I felt the numbness from my waist down. It sent shivers down my spine when he said that if they do not remove the disc; in a matter of hours, I could have been permanently paralyzed! Suddenly I felt so scared and so alone... In what felt like an instant reaction, I just grabbed the pen from him and signed the consent form. I still remember his words a few seconds before that, "It's not an option'. He also explained to me all the risks of the operation - which are quite major - but nothing compares to not doing it.

Almost immediately after, I was wheeled in to the OT (Operation Theatre). It was about 7:00 pm that time on Wednesday night, 28 November 2012. Miraculously Hakimi turned up at the very last minute! At least I get to see a familiar face again and that brought such a relief... I was saying my prayers all the way into the OT. In the preparation room I told the anesthetist to warn me about the last 10 seconds before I went under, for me to say my syahadah. Then everything went blur...

I have been under GA (General Anesthesia) before once in the operation in 2005 and this is the second time. It's just like going into a deep deep sleep, minus the dreams. Then I woke up and the first three faces I saw was Shahfree, Hakimi and his wife. They told me it was already 1:00 am that time. I remembered the doctor telling me that he could do it in 1 hour or at most 2 hours top. It worried me a bit trying to figure out why it took much longer than expected but I was just too tired to think and besides, I was just relieved that it was finally over. The doctor's was the fourth face I saw when he came in to let me know that operation went well despite the surprise he gets when he saw that the condition of the prolapsed disc was much worse than he thought -his actual words was "We were afraid when we saw it. It took longer to make sure that we can remove part of the disc but at the same time not to damage your nerves, ligaments and muscles too much." A further relief. I spent a quiet night alone under the watchful eyes of the nurse in the ICU that night.

I woke up sometime the next day (Something about ICU; you really couldn't tell the time of the day when you're in there). I still couldn't get up but at least I'm in very good care. I must have been telling many of the staffs that 'I wasn't supposed to be there' that by now, some of them started calling me "The Unexpected Guest"...

Later a face of an old dear friend, Naz, who came to visit brightens the otherwise gloomy ICU. I didn't remember much of Day 3 except that at some point, they wheeled me out of the ICU and into the High Dependency Care Unit for neuro patients. No pictures or anything this time as I was only reunited with my BlackBerry much later. But my surgeon did come around to the ICU to pass this to me as a souvenir - the part of the 4 cm disc that they took out from my spine!

Maybe I should frame it as a reminder to take care of my back in future...

My biggest achievement of the day was being able to pee, haha! The biggest downfall, literally, was when I woke up in the middle of the night wanting to pee and instead fell and hit the side cabinet. It was a slow fall but I still bruised my rib and got plenty of scolding from the staff nurse. Other than that, it was still a fairly restful night.

The doctor came on Thursday morning and checked that I was all okay. Nothing much happened that day. I was just busy replying to SMS, BBM and WhatsApp messages and replying to my previous FB postings. It's nice to have many friends and relatives. I just could not imagine lying in a hospital bed knowing that no one out there is thinking about you. That would be sad...

Based on my experience of similar operation in 2005, I'm guessing that I will be out of the hospital in a few days time and would be heading home in the next available flight.

Anyway, much to my surprise, the doctor came in another ward round in the evening and found some pain that "should not be there" after they have removed the prolapsed disc. The were planning to do another MRI the next day. That night was not a restful night...

Part 2: Hillingdon Hospital (Day 1 and 2)

Luckily it was only a short ride away. I never really knew where Hillingdon Hospital is (later I found out it's in Uxbridge, West London). I just knew that it's the hospital closest to Heathrow hence why they rushed me there. The ambulance crew were nice and we chatted on the way and I remember telling them, "I wasn't even supposed to be here...!"

As we arrived I was wheeled into the A&E Unit and all they gave me was painkillers. And every time I complaint that I was still in pain; they just gave me MORE painkillers. It was the same radiating pain in the whole right leg and every time it just got more and more intense. I was literally screaming in pain and asking for help. Up to a point; one of the nurses said, "We have given you all the painkillers we have on the list!". Duh, but I was still in pain!?!? But I later found that they actually have one more up their sleeve - morphine... haha! That really works. I feel no more pain... I feel nothing... I feel goooood... I just threw up once in the beginning then I was okay...

By then Shahfree, our Student Advisor who is based in London already got the message and rushed to the hospital to make sure that I was alright. He even brought me nasi lemak! It was indeed very calming to see a familiar countrymen's face and that the next time I close my eyes, at least someone will know who I am and where I was. I also made the one call to S.O.S. International (PETRONAS guys - never go on business travel without your SOS Card!) and they got the ball rolling. Hakimi (another colleague) and wife also turned up later and brought further relief. They left only after I seemed a bit stable and I assured them that I was going to be okay.

Throughout the day I was contemplating whether I should tell my wife or not about what happened to me. I know that at some point I would have to tell her anyway but I just don't want to spook her until I really know what was going to happen to me. But I also know that I would not be able to hold it for long because she knew that I should have been in Milan by now and must be wondering why I did not send any messages or make any calls to tell her that I have arrived. I have nothing to do but lying down in the hospital bed so all I did was think and think. I thought about my kids; about what is going to happen to them if something happened to me. I thought about all the time I have spent travelling for work and how I have spent so little time for my family and for myself. I thought about how this could be a message for me to slow down... as I drifted to sleep I dreamt happy dreams...

I woke up the next morning in a bit of panic - I couldn't feel both my legs (and everything else in between!). It was scary!!! I told the nurses about it and they told me just to try to walk around to get the blood flowing.They were even talking about discharging me because I seemed okay at that time. I said to them, "Where am I supposed to go?"... and added, "I'm not even supposed to be here!" I have a feeling they just want me out of the A&E. I learnt later that the hospital is obliged to treat me, eventhough I am not covered by the NHS (UK's National Health Scheme), whenever a visitor is under an emergency case. I believe that if they were to put me into the normal ward then it could be an issue because I still have not settled about the insurance etc.

I made my way a couple of times to the toilet with great difficulties. I even have difficulty passing urine. By the time a doctor came for the morning round I told him how I felt and he then scheduled an MRI for the afternoon. In between, I was just waiting helplessly and restlessly... I finally sent my first message home just to let my wife know that I didn't make it to Milan but not to worry as I'm sure this is just one of those short episode. I told her I'll be home soon but the truth is I really don't know what was going to happen to me. But I still had time to snap a pic on my BlackBerry and post it on Facebook...! I wouldn't blame anyone who saw my Facebook status and thought that it was nothing serious and I was doing fine. Really, I shouldn't have smiled...

Later in the afternoon the MRI went fine except holding my leg still was quite difficult and made it even more painful. They sent me back to my bed and more waiting and waiting for me. The next thing I knew, the doctor came around to tell me that they're taking me to Charing Cross Hospital in Hammersmith. He also explained that they had sent the MRI result to the neuro specialist in Charing Cross Hospital and he asked for me to be brought there immediately. I was beginning to suspect that this is not going to be good. My suspicion was confirmed when as he slide the curtain surrounding my bed, the ambulance crew was already there waiting! Everything happened so fast. While I was being wheeled out, I managed to grab a piece of paper and wrote three numbers for the nurse to call - my wife, Shahfree and S.O.S. At least someone would know where to find me later.

Come to think of it, I wasn't really in a panic mode. It must be the morphine. I still had time to snap another pic and posted it on Facebook with a comment, "The ambulance ride! Cool...!". In which, only much later I got to know; is the reason why no one thought I was in a serious condition...

Part 1: A series of unfortunate events

Monday, 26 November 2012

It all started as one of my routine business travels. I was supposed to fly from KL to Milan, via London with two of my colleagues. We could have flown there via Amsterdam or Dubai or anywhere else but we picked London this time - there must be a reason for it and it must have been fated. Prior to that I have already had a bit of recurring sciatica pain on my right leg from a long history of lumbar pain and slipped disc (you can read about the whole history here). I have been traveling a lot lately and this must have taken a toll on my not-so-young-anymore body. But then again, what to do; this is part of how I earn my living...

Anyway, despite the pain, I decided that I really have to make this trip. I missed the last one due to the same problem so I thought I just can't skip this twice in a row and as usual, a painkiller a day keeps the sciatica away. So, despite the slight limping and shooting pain every time I need to sit down or get up; I was doing just fine, as usual.

Earlier in the morning, I drove to work instead of taking my bike, as suggested by my wife. After getting stuck for one and a half hours in traffic that morning, I could barely get out of my car when I arrived at the office. In the afternoon, I went to the Twin Towers Medical Centre and got myself a jab of painkiller and felt a bit better. But then again, later that evening after another round of one and a half hours drive in the evening traffic, it got even worse than the morning. Luckily I have an in-house doctor at home who then gave me another jab of painkiller. For good measure, I also popped in an Arcoxia 120mg just before the flight. I'm gonna be okay... or so I thought.

As I was limping to board the aircraft, my colleagues who were traveling with me commented on it but I told them I'd be okay. It was a midnight flight so despite the discomfort, I still manage to skip supper and went straight to sleep. The new A380 seats are in a way better than the 747 or 777. Or so I thought... again... After about 5 hours of sleep I was suddenly woken up by a sharp pain in my right leg. This is not the usual sciatica pain which is more localized and normally when I could get to a certain position the pain would just go away. This time the pain radiated throughout my entire right leg and whether I move or stay the pain is still there!

After battling it quietly for an hour or so (luckily the stewardesses didn't think that I was making lusty faces at them!) I finally decided to call the flight crew and told them about it. They quickly searched for a doctor on board and found a Malaysian lady doctor who lived in London who was travelling back with her daughter. I was so in pain to remember much but I think her name is Dr. Zainab (Dr. Zainab from London; if you ever read this, I don't think I thanked you properly that day - thank you so much for your kindness!). She managed to get hold of the aircraft's medical kit and gave me yet another jab and an oral painkiller. Funny how the steward and my colleague had to hold a blanket to cover the scene of me having to pull my pants down for her to jab my bottom! But anyway, unfortunately it doesn't seem to work this time and I was in excruciating pain throughout the remaining of the 13 hours journey. I told the flight crew that they better have paramedics on standby in Heathrow as I was quite sure I will not be able to continue with the connecting flight to Milan in this condition. I know my leg and back pain and I know that this is definitely not ordinary.

During descend the pain got worse and worse and so unbearable and I was up to a series of muffled screams. Obviously I got exempted from the putting-your-seat-upright procedure...

The moment we touched down I was swarmed with flight crews, ground crew and the first intervention paramedic unit, whom I was made to understand arrived on a bicycle (in winter! God bless her...). By that time, the cleaning crew, technical crew and many others have also started boarding the aircraft. There were so many people! Lying there surrounded by all these strangers, I couldn't think of anything else but crack a joke. I said to them, "I feel like I'm watching "The Airport" TV series..." and they all laughed. Indeed, they said, this is what happened behind the scene after you all left the aircraft. These are the unsung heroes that made our flights safe, clean and comfortable...

In a quick turn of event, I was wheeled into an ambulance (I learnt a new fact: the hydraulic lift for the ambulance unit could not reach the upper deck of the A380, so they had to wheel me down to the lower deck first). For that they had to sit me on a wheelchair in which, if you know sciatica, is yet another round of excruciating pain. Luckily the paramedics introduced me to a new friend, "Ethonox" who was really a friend in need - a couple of puffs from the tank and the pain just slowly slowly slips away... hmmmmmm...!

My two colleagues who went out earlier and were waiting outside expecting for me to come out on a wheelchair realized that I wasn't coming out after all. I texted them from the ambulance saying that the paramedics decided to take me straight to the Hillingdon Hospital nearby so I won't be joining them to Milan after all. I really didn't know what to expect at that time. Between the motion sickness (it wasn't fun travelling while lying down in a fast moving ambulance!) and the soothing Ethonox; many questions were playing in my mind - Would I be coming back to the airport shortly? Could I make the next flight to Milan later? Will I be stranded here for a long time? The irony is that; I wasn't even supposed to be here! It was just a transit...! All I had with me was my carry-on bag and I told the Malaysia Airlines ground personnel to hold on to my checked-in luggage and I will call him next on what to do with it.

Little did I know that this was going to be a series of unfortunate events, one after another but for the most part of it, I should have actually said "fortunate" considering what could have actually happen if I had not board that ambulance that morning...


Next: Part 2: Hillingdon Hospital (Day 1 and 2)