I woke up in the middle of the night because my fingers hurt like no tomorrow. For a moment, I thought it was a cramp. Or that I had arthritis. Or rheumatism. Or *touch wood* bone cancer. I got up, switched on the light and walked into the kitchen. There was a red dot on the fourth ringer on my right hand. And the finger was swollen and it was very painful.

I was taken to Hospital Setiu and given an anti-inflammatory injection at the Emergency Ward. The on-call doctor, a very nice lady doctor, said that I would have to be admitted for observation, in particular for any kind of allergic reactions I might display toward the medicines they would be pumping into my system. In 2 hours, I was wheeled into the ward.

I was given an injection every 6 hours, and my blood pressure, heart beat and temperature readings recorded about once in 4 hours (except when I was asleep). I was also drugged a few times a day, so much so that the simple meals prepared by the hospital canteen tasted so delicious though they looked really bland and unappetizing.

It was my first time spending a night in the hospital bed and it definitely wasn’t a very nice experience — to be hospitalized and drugged round the clock — and if there was something that I had “gained or learned” from the experience, it would be the fact that my health is the most important thing in my life, not work. I wouldn’t be anywhere I’d want to be, doing anything I’d want to do, if I’m not healthy and if I had to be in a hospital where nurses give me painkillers that not only kill my pain but my tastebuds and appetite as well. All the money in my bank (though I don’t have much) wouldn’t mean anything if it hurt me so much to take a shower or to dress myself.

So, lesson of the year: Do not take your health for granted.