CHAPTER 80

2026-08-03

Just when I thought Lun was beginning to recover, it turned out to be nothing more than the darkness before dawn.

Since taking Lun to the Emergency Department at Royal Columbian Hospital in New Westminster at 11:30 p.m. on June 17, tonight marks his fortieth night in hospital, apart from a one-week trial discharge. It is also the first time in recent days that I have walked toward his room without hearing his protests from inside - a complete contrast to the situation only a few nights ago.

The day after I shared Article 249, "Borrowing Mom's Slippers," before dawn on the thirty-eighth night, at around 4:30 a.m., I heard some faint sounds. Lun was lying quietly in bed, gently playing with the reversible sequins on his unicorn doll. That in itself was no cause for concern.

Before long, however, I heard footsteps and the bathroom door opening and closing several times, followed by the scraping of a chair across the floor. When I turned around to look, I saw that he had dragged the chair in front of the storage cabinet. Clothes and towels were scattered all over the floor. He had emptied everything from the cabinet, climbed onto the chair, and was standing on it. From where I stood, I could see only most of his back. His upper body, from the waist up, was thrust into the second open compartment on the right, about 42 to 54 inches above the floor. He was trying to press the tip of his chin against the back panel where it met the wall.

Although I had just written in my previous article, "Losing your temper is of no use at all," seeing him half-balanced on the chair, at risk of falling, filled me with alarm. I had believed he was improving because he had been quietly entertaining himself with his toy. Instead, his behaviour had become even more bizarre. My temper flared, and I had to stop him immediately.

He insisted on squeezing himself into all three open compartments on the right side of the cabinet, one after another. He then crawled into the bathroom and pushed his head beneath both sides of the sink, once again trying to perform his strange ritual of pressing his chin against the wall.

Suddenly, I realized that this odd behaviour had already begun to emerge over the previous few days. He had repeatedly touched the wall and the floor with the tip of his chin in what looked almost like an act of worship. He had also pretended to poke his head into drawers and even into the toilet bowl. These were clear signs of heightened anxiety and were very likely directly related to the recent adjustments to his medication.

I wrapped my arms around him from behind to keep him safe, but the more I restrained him, the more fiercely he resisted. The commotion quickly brought the nurse on duty into the room. After observing him and asking me what had happened, she concluded that his agitation was worsening. He needed to be settled immediately. Medication alone would not be enough; he also had to be prevented from pacing constantly and climbing, both to avoid worsening the condition of his feet and to prevent an accident.

There was only one final option left - to place him in restraints on the bed while waiting for the medication to take effect, so that he could calm down and become settled.

Soon afterward, a nurse returned with four security officers. The moment Lun saw them, he knew what was coming. By now, however, he had begun to understand the hospital's procedures. Although he protested, he was generally cooperative and climbed onto the bed by himself, lying down in the proper position for the restraints.

One of the four security officers was the supervisor, responsible for ensuring that every step followed hospital protocol. Two officers carried out the procedure, while the fourth remained on standby. The nurse and I stayed beside Lun throughout.

As on previous occasions, everyone involved expressed genuine regret that restraining a patient had become necessary. They repeatedly apologized during the entire process. By the time Lun was secured in the restraints, it was already six o'clock in the morning. Amid his cries and calls, I drifted into a light sleep for a little over an hour. Later, I heard the nurse and the security officers return to remove the restraints so that he could use the bathroom, have a drink of water, and eat his breakfast.

When the nurse saw that I was awake, she apologized to me again and again. I did not blame them in the slightest. Instead, I reminded myself once more that if anger can be avoided, it should be avoided.

Postscript:

Later, I measured the wall and the storage cabinet. The room was 9 feet high. Facing into the room, the wooden cabinet stood to the left of the entrance. It measured 3 feet wide, 2 feet deep, and extended from 6 inches above the floor to a height of 76 inches, giving it a total height of 70 inches. Except for the top compartment, the cabinet was divided into two vertical sections. The left section consisted of one tall, doorless compartment for hanging clothes. The right section was divided into five compartments, each about one foot high. The bottom two were lockable drawers. Above them were three open, doorless cubbies, each approximately 16 inches wide.