CHAPTER 83

2026-08-12

Lun’s condition shows no sign of improvement. Both he and I are physically and mentally exhausted. In order to keep fighting on, I have to take good care of myself.

Because of his emotional difficulties, Lun has now spent four full weeks in the psychiatric ward for the second time, yet there has still been no improvement in his condition. To be honest, it is hard not to feel disappointed. Watching him suffer, on top of all the effort involved in caring for him, has made things especially difficult. In order to keep going, I must take good care of myself.

A few days ago, he was moved back into a private room. At night, I slept on a mattress on the floor, placed against the wall at a right angle to his bed and between him and the door. This allowed the medical staff, when making their hourly rounds, to see both of us through the small window in the door when they shone their flashlight inside.

On the first night, close to dawn, I moved my mattress to Lun’s right side, close to the window. It was nearer to the centrally controlled air vent and somewhat brighter. I never imagined that the staff making their rounds would think I had escaped. They immediately called a colleague to come into the room to check. When the female caregiver saw my head sticking out beside Lun’s bed, she said loudly to me, “You scared the hell out of us.”

Although the mattress is soft and cushioned, it is quite firm and supportive. I had no backache or body aches and slept reasonably well. I checked online and found that mattresses like it sell for between $400 and $1,000.

Over the past few days, Lun has improved at breakfast. He has grown tired of having me feed him and now automatically picks up the food and puts it into his mouth himself. The problem is that, these past few mornings, he has been eating faster and faster.

In the early hours of Wednesday, I heard him making noises in bed. Before long, he got out of bed. The noises gradually became louder, and he tried to take off his T-shirt, indicating that he wanted to change into his daytime clothes. Perhaps he thought morning was approaching. He then turned on the lights in the room, driving away whatever sleep I had left.

The night-shift nurse had arrived and told me it was 4:00 a.m. The other patients were sound asleep. If Lun could not settle down, medication would have to be given.

When Lun saw the nurse, he led her to the storage cabinet to get some gauze dressings. It turned out that he was indicating that he wanted her to change the dressings on the soles of his feet. The reason was that another caregiver on Tuesday morning had thought the dressings did not need to be changed every day, to avoid touching the wounds during the process.

As we worked together to remove his socks, we discovered that the toenail on his left big toe was standing upright at a 90-degree angle. When we checked his right foot, Lun indicated that he wanted the 6-by-6-inch square dressing covering the left side of the sole of his foot changed. It was protecting a large blister that was drying out.

We decided to change the dressing on the sole of his right foot, while leaving in place the dressings covering a total of four toes on both feet. Those would have to wait until daylight before they could be changed.

In the end, between 4:30 and 6:00 a.m., I personally removed the toenail from Lun’s left big toe. It had already dried out and no longer caused him any pain, and removing it made his left foot more comfortable. Later, while I was lying on the mattress, half asleep and trying to rest, Lun not only sat on the sofa shouting, but also removed the dressing covering the four toes by himself. He then pulled off the second toenail on his right foot as well.

The sedative did not take effect until 6:00 a.m. He slept for about an hour and a half, then got out of bed again at 7:30, still restless. At 8:00, the new male caregiver on duty brought breakfast, and more medication had to be given. Lun ate even more hurriedly, and even less.

This time the medication had a more noticeable effect. Thirty-five minutes later, he got into bed by himself and pulled up the blanket. Both he and I were utterly exhausted. At that moment, the doctor arrived. I told him that if complete loss of control was a ten, Lun’s performance during the early hours of that morning was a nine.

Throughout the entire ordeal, I did my utmost to remain calm. Now I have only one guiding principle: any emotion or thought that cannot help the situation must not be taken to heart or allowed to enter my mind. It must disappear the moment it arises. My own physical and mental health is the only capital I have with which to face adversity.

When the next shift of staff arrived, I went to Lun’s group home to change into clean clothes. Then I went to a Hong Kong-style café and enjoyed a large bowl of pork-and-preserved-egg congee, half a portion of fresh shrimp rice rolls, and half a portion of iced Yuanyang with extra milk. I packed up the leftovers and brought them home to enjoy later.