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The numbness I had felt on my right side was finally relieved during my night at UC by one nitroglycerin tablet. At KPH, the numbness frighteningly began to return. When the student nurses asked me if I was Ok, and I mentioned the numbness, they quickly got the regular nurses to call a doctor (maybe Dr. Salkey) at home (for there was none on the ward) and the doc authorized them to give me a particular injection, which as I got it, instead of the numbness receding, it began spreading to the left side of my face. The student nurses began reading about the injection just administered to me in a little book that they had. To their surprise - and mine as well (for they were reading audibly and didn't have to speak loudly as I was not even 2 feet from them) - the medication could, if not administered properly - kill the patient (that is, me, getting more and more numb). In fact, a senior medical inspector who passed through and inquired from the doctors, including Dr. Salkey (who had, by this time, arrived), what had been done for the other heart patient, sitting in a wheelchair beside me, and myself; Dr. Salkey mentioned the same injection and the medical inspector seemed shocked.
"Without checking them thoroughly first?!" she asked, "you could have killed them!"
"We give it to heart patients all the while" Dr. Salkey said, "first thing as they are admitted... And no one has died."
"Because you don't know when they do" the inspector continued, "they leave here and go out on the street and die..."

Fortunately I had already made my peace with God and was prepared to die. Every one seemed amazed that I had survived a mild stroke, without medication for 8 months and lived! This included the medical inspector, who after reading a detailed docket prepared by the last doctor who attended to me at UC, decided that I was being treated but because of my liquor drinking, I had stopped taking my medication; though she was some distance away, we were both in earshot of each other, and I quickly interjected, to confirm I had was not on medication before yesterday. My protest was met with a disbelieving glance and she continued her rounds. The doctor at UC, a young, mixed, attractive, female doctor, maybe half-asian, with long straight hair, had sat on my bed, while I was still drowsy from medication and lack of sleep, in the wee hours of the morning, and with no pen, or paper, only her memory to record it, charmed my medical history, former smoking and current drinking habits, and the poor state of my finances out of me, before preparing that aforementioned docket and shipping me out of uptown UC to downtown KPH, against my pleading protests.

At KPH I had a prisoner at one point handcuffed to the bed beside me, which made me a little worried, even with the police guard that came with him. He would call out for Jesus and God every night. Another elderly man in front of me constantly exposed himself and played with his anus and wanted to release himself, so they tied one foot to the bed, which didn't help when he fell on the bed on his head one night, his foot still on the bed, his body over the side, his head on the floor, and the night nurse refusing to help. Other people were moaning. We were all men there and all sick, but as the God who kept me those 8 months began to strengthen me I realized I was not frail and ailing as most of them though I should have been and Dr. Salkey realized this too and in 3 days I was released.

At UC the nurses and doctors keep me awake with x-ray, ecg, stethoscopes to my chest, medication, blood pressure tests, urine tests; maybe that's why at KPH they didn't have to do as much, because, for the 3 days and nights, I spent there, I have no memory of a doctor putting a stethoscope to my chest!

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