One of the things which my recent hospital stay impressed upon me was the rather limited conversational possibilities when you're waking up from an operation and battling infections. Every ten or fifteen minutes someone will come into your room, say 'hi', look at the machines that go beep, and ask one of four questions.
Always the same four, usually a different person.
1) Have you passed gas yet?
2) Have you moved your bowels?
3) Have you urinated today?
4) 嗨,我聽過你識講廣東話。眞嘅咩?
The answer 'no' leads to confusion. As well as pills you did not want. Well, not for the fourth question, not the pills. But however you answer, the resultant conversational exchange is uncommonly narrow-focused.
The first three questions make one think of an English Public School.
In retrospect, I understand that there is a point to the inquiries, but at the time it seemed more than a little repetitive. Intrusive, too.
By the end of the second day I simply lied.
An Asperger syndrome person, fighting sepsis and resultant high fever, has other things on his mind than eliminative events. Everything between my sternum and my scrotum was stressed out. The food seemed quite horrible. Meaning, really, no appetite whatsoever, no inclination to eat, that tube in my arm is keeping me nicely hydrated, thank you, but a cup of coffee might make me do what you want.
I have since then realized that all of the first three questions are perfectly adequate social icebreakers, better than any remark about the weather or politics, and safer than mentioning our current president.
I'll start employing them.
The fourth question is very situation specific.
The man with Aspergers speaks Cantonese.
Not everyone does.
There's one other question which the staff down at Chinese Hospital also ask, but under somewhat better circumstances; what is your date of birth? The reason, I'm sure, is to see if I still have all my marbles or am finally losing the ball.
The moment I my faculties start slipping, I'll have it tattooed on my arm.
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