poor lil' alfie is ill and he reminds me of ... me

I was already 13 or 14 when it happened. My friends and I had just come back from camping when I started feeling something weird on the right side of my forehead. But I ignored it. Two or three days later, my temple felt itchy and it had red rashes. Then my parents took me to hospital. According to the doctor there, it was an effect of a snake poison. But I didn't recall getting bitten by snake. The doctor said it was possible that I slept on a spot where some snake had just disposed its poison -- something like that. The following days were terrible. The itch expanded to my head, neck, and back. And now it was not just itchy, it was burning and very painful. Then my right eye.I could not open it. My parents consulted many physicians as well traditional healers. But it took some time.

One night when I was asleep I somehow felt that somebody was watching me. I woke up in silence and I knew it was my father sitting right next to me, staring at me. From the angle of my left eye, I could vaguely saw him -- the room was rather dark. But I saw it: wet eyes with tears. My father was silently crying. His mouth was moving -- I knew he was praying. Deep down in my heart I felt very warm. I felt his love and care. To the maximum. He didn't even know that I was already awake.

That memory just came again. When I am the father and Alfie is the son. Now Alfie is ill and hospitalized. He is having a dengue fever. His doctor said his statistics showed improvement this morning. But he still needs to stay a couple days more. What makes it difficult is Alfie's resistance to IV infusion that runs through the vein on his left forearm. He, like myself, turns out to hate the idea of injection. But what could we do? Because of his age and especially his strong opposition toward the fluid infusion, the nurses put support board around his left arm. I tried cheer him up saying he looked like a cool robot. I failed. He still did not like that thing.

So, we keep trying distract him so he has no time to see his left arm. But whenever we fail, he immediately tries to get it off by shaking the arm or even trying banging it on the bed! Oh poor Alfie, of course he could not get rid of it. He then just cries and cries and my heart aches every time he does that.

And every time he cries I also remember my father. I now know exactly what he felt that night. I can never thank you enough, Pak. I have marks on my forehead and wear glasses because of the accident, but I'm thankful that I'm alright. But on top of that I'm thankful to have you. And Alfie.