Too Old to Live

By: Charlotte Poon

I lay in bed staring at the plain white ceiling. The plaster on the ceiling was beginning to crumble. Seeing the crumbling plaster did not make me feel any better, it only reminded me of myself. The state I was in.

I was stuck, here in this tiny cubicle. I couldn’t care less about how little space there was in here, since it was impossible for me to even use that space. I no longer felt the connection to my legs I used to have. They would not move a muscle, so I lost hope in being able to have a walk outside, let alone get out of my narrow bed.

‘I could really make a painting out of this misery.’ I thought. Then I remembered. I could not paint like I used to, and as long as I stayed here, I would never see my paintings again.

I heard the door open.

“Dinner!” the voice of the usual nurse called.

As expected, it was another tasteless meal like every other here. Plain, white rice served slightly cold and hard to chew. Chicken and green vegetables without a trace of sauce or seasoning.

Was I too old to live the life I wanted to live? Too old to make even the simplest decisions in my everyday life? I felt like a baby, but without the comfort a baby would typically receive.

At this point I knew I was truly going mad. I did not only want to leave this cubicle, to leave this nursing home. I wanted to leave Hong Kong, go on holiday and fly somewhere pleasant, such as…

I searched my groggy mind for a country I could remember having an affinity for.

Oh, yes. The Netherlands.

I could take a trip to the Netherlands. At least, I dreamed of doing so.

Speaking of the Netherlands, I wonder how my dear friend is doing there.

“Good morning!” my nurse cheerfully greeted me.

“Good morning Susan!” I greeted back.

“So, how are you getting along with your wheelchair?”

“It’s wonderful technology.” I smiled gratefully. “Carrying me up the stairs! This wheelchair works like a miracle.”

“That’s great to know! Do you have any questions about it?”

“No, I don’t right now.”

“Alright, then. What would you like for your lunch? Nothing too expensive please!” Susan chuckled.

“Hmm…potatoes and meatballs would be nice,” I said. “Any kind will do. Could you also boil some pea soup too? There’s a box of pea soup in the kitchen.”

“Certainly,” Susan answered. “I’ll be back soon! Your lunch should be done by around twelve o clock.”

After Susan left my house, I went to water the plants on the windowsill. The wheels of my electric wheelchair rolled me to the next room with ease. Perhaps life wasn’t so bad with a broken hip, even at this frail age.

As I was watering the plants, I admired the painting on the wall on the right. It was a portrait of me, painted by my best friend years ago.

‘I wonder how he’s doing,’ I thought. ‘If I remember correctly, he’s in an old age nursing home in Hong Kong.’

I looked out of the window, observing the people on the streets. Parents holding hands with their children, dogs skittering and sniffing the ground. People who seemed around my age crossed the busy road on their electric walker scooters. They did not have to worry about their slow, weak legs letting them get caught up in the crowd.

The sight made me smile. What a delightful place for us old people to live in. Living life among everyone else without worrying about the drawbacks of our withering bodies stopping us.

Then I remembered my friend again. Wondering if he could even experience the same quality of life, I shed a tear.

——

Rationale:

I feel that my piece connects to the theme of equality among elderly people around the world. Here in Hong Kong, frail elderly tend to live in nursing homes, where the quality of life isn't so great. However, I have learnt that this isn't the case in the Netherlands. In the Netherlands, most elderly people can live in their own homes regardless of their body conditions. Nursing services and advanced technology allow them to live daily life as they would like to. They have more variety of choice in the daily decisions they make for themselves. They aren't marginalized due to their age and capabilities, which is a great thing. I believe wealthier countries where plenty of people have a decent quality of life should ensure one of their priorities is to allow the elderly to maintain that quality of life. Being forced to live in small, often dirty cubicles away from activities and people they would like to connect with can be dehumanizing. I hope my written piece can convey this message.