Living in SIN

Greetings from Singapore, where I’ve now been for the last five days and will be until at least Tuesday and likely beyond.

And honestly, it’s not that much fun, not that it was supposed to be. But, even though it’s one of the most expensive cities on the planet, it’s not costing me a whole lot of money. Not that I wanted it that way.

On Monday, I reported the shoulder specialist’s findings to the nurses at work, who reported it up the food chain. After noon sometime, it came back down saying, “You’re cleared to go to Singapore.”

This was not an option I was expecting, since I’d been told earlier that I was no longer able to do so. But it was a welcome, because the fact is, although my shoulder doesn’t hurt all the time, the times when it does hurt, it’s excruciating. Like screaming from pain excruciating.

We have security cameras in the halls of the hotel, and one day I was running late and pulled the door shut behind me. If they were monitoring those cameras, the likely think I am some kind of alien, the gestures I made. It HURTS. And it impedes my daily life. I have a hard time getting dressed, and brushing my hair is painfully uncomfortable.

Still, based on the earlier conversation, the one where I was not cleared for a medevac, I didn’t expect to be cleared for a medevac, but somehow it happened. And quite suddenly.

I talked to the nursing staff and got the 411 and, when asked my preferred date to depart, I said Wednesday. I’ve been told this whole time that Singapore works fast and I’d likely get in one night, see the doctor the next day and then have surgery later that day. I figured I’d be back to work on Friday.

Well, that was stupidly optimistic. First, I got the email around 5:03 on Monday that my doctor’s appointment was 10:15 on Wednesday, meaning I had to leave the next day. I didn’t even have a ticket, which takes lots of authorization.

Much ado later, by 1:30 p.m. I still didn’t have a ticket for the 6:20 p.m. flight, but it came through. After a late and bumpy flight, I got to the hotel, crashed, woke up, ate breakfast, checked out under the assumption that I’d be in surgery that evening and then went to the doctor. He confirmed I needed surgery, then said he had zero time that week.

I couldn’t believe it. I mean, I knew I needed surgery and even if that specialist had decided no, I felt like it should have been conveyed to him that I likely needed it, so he could have said there wouldn’t be any time to do it.

But I need the surgery, and if I left for Guangzhou, the medevac was over. The only choice was to just hang out here until the next possible surgery time, which turned out to be at 5 p.m. on Monday.

As a result, I’ve set up camp at the Regent and tried to make myself at home, but I really don’t want to be here. I want the surgery and then to go home to my comfy Ascott pillows.

Singapore is nice, don’t get me wrong. But it’s a shopping destination and I am not a shopper, though I’ve had to be this trip.

On the “stupidly optimistic” topic, I only brought one change of clothes, a mostly empty tube of toothpaste and microscopic amounts of toiletries. Yesterday and today, I had to hit the overpriced stores trying to replenish, plus do some emergency shopping for thing that might make my life a tad more bearable after surgery, like purchasing bras that close in the front. That was harder than it should have been. There is no Walmarty store that I’ve found. Lots of H&Ms and UniQlos, though.

And Asian sizes. Oh, my. I wanted one more pair of pants before the reinforcements came in. (That was in the form of a colleague, who was visiting here this long weekend. She swung by my apartment and brought me a small duffel worth of clothes.) Pants. How hard, right? Well, I tried on six pairs the first day in sizes 6-12 and nothing came close to fitting. And by that I mean one pair out of six made it past my knees.

Finally, the second day, I found one store with some Australian brand and I got some shorts. I really wanted a nice pair of pants I could wear to work, but that just ain’t happening here.

At one store, I gave up all pretenses of being able to wear women’s shirts and picked up a men’s XL. It was too small. I wish I was kidding.

But now I have enough, I hope. My surgery is tomorrow, and I already feel like I have been here forever. It’s just crazy, really. I had suggested as my No. 2 choice of days was next Thursday, and was told if I could wait that long, it wasn’t an emergency.

So I’ve been sitting here in Singapore, being almost totally non-productive. I did manage to work in the office here maybe five hours over two days, but that’s about it. I’ve walked a lot and sweat a lot. It’s massively humid.

I saw “Snoopy” and “Star Wars,” the latter for a second time. You pick up more the section time, like Rey’s response when BB8 told her where he was from was classified. It was something like “Yeah, mine, too.”

But I’d prefer to be at work.

Today, I went to Santoso Island, and thought I’d go to the Universal Studios but backed off. Instead, I just took the cable car over, walked down to the beach through teeming throngs of humanity and then came back.

Tomorrow I eat a late breakfast because I can’t eat or drink after 11 a.m. I check into the hospital at 12:30 and the hour-long procedure is scheduled for 5 p.m.

Prayers welcome.