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My Turn
by

Wayne Chan

From The Asian Reporter, V34, #10 (October 7, 2024), page 6.

Not the ideal way of feeling young again

Talking about someone collapsing to the ground probably isn’t the first thing that comes to mind if you’re thinking about something funny, but since it happened to me, I can do whatever I want.

This summer, after playing two hard sets of tennis on a warm day, I walked over to take a quick break before playing a third set when I started feeling lightheaded and ended up falling to the ground and hitting my head.

OK, I realize none of that is funny. I haven’t gotten to that part yet. Bear with me.

Now, bottom line — I’m fine. I got a bump on my head, but other than that, I’m fine. It’s what caused me to collapse and my family’s reaction to it that’s funny to me. More on that later.

But first, a genuine heartfelt thanks to my buddies who were playing with me that night. Two of them are doctors and they rushed over right away to check on me. I was initially a little dazed and confused, but I could see my friends surrounding me, making sure I was all right. They said it would be a good idea for me to go to the emergency room. My buddy Chris drove me there and stayed with me while I got checked out. My buddy Jay, who is a medical specialist at a number of hospitals, even called ahead to the emergency room to let them know what was going on and what to expect.

So, first and foremost, huge thanks to Chris, Jay, Mike, Kurt, and Tom. Thank you for your friendship. I will never forget it.

When I arrived at the hospital, they did an x-ray and a CAT scan and everything seemed normal, nothing out of the ordinary. Right around that time, Jay called to check on me and asked Chris about something. He asked Chris to look in my tennis bag and peek at my water bottle.

Chris did, and he told Jay, "Huh, it’s full of water."

That means I played tennis for two hours on a hot August night, and apparently, I hadn’t drunk any water. The ER doctor nodded her head — "That would explain everything," she said. "You collapsed because you were extremely dehydrated."

As I continued listening to the doctor about what to expect with the huge bump on my head, my mind turned to a more pressing issue. Here’s where the funny part starts, if you’re still wondering.

I didn’t much care about the pain I was still experiencing from the peach-sized bump on my head. I was much more concerned about what my family would say when they found out what happened.

You see, I know my wife loves me. I know my family loves me. There’s no doubt about that. But they’re Chinese, and from what I can tell, the rules for a Chinese family when something like this happens is: number one — deal with the stupidity first, sympathy second.

Strike that — actually, it’s deal with the stupidity first, and the sympathy is like fifth on the list, after they address: 2) taking responsibility, 3) being reckless, and then 4) come back around to stupidity again.

And it started straight away when my eldest son rushed to the hospital.

He asked me, "Aren’t you a little younger than all your buddies? Do they let these things happen to them, too? You’re 60 years old, not 6, you know."

And I knew his reaction would be the most subdued, given the father-son dynamic. It was only going to get worse, which unfortunately, it did.

When I first saw my wife Maya, she had me sit down and the way she looked at me … the bump on my head started throbbing again in anticipation.

In the interest of saving time, I won’t recite everything she said, but several words that stood out were: Ridiculous! Childish! Irresponsible!

But the worst part was when she said, "You can expect a call from auntie Lucy."

I said, in exasperation, "You called auntie Lucy? Really?"

"Yup," Maya replied. "I told her everything. You’re in for it now."

Auntie Lucy is like my second mother. Especially after my own mom passed, auntie Lucy has stepped into her role as the one who will set me straight when I go off track.

Auntie Lucy is well into her eighties now, but whenever she calls, I feel like a kid again, usually in a good way. Not this time.

As scheduled, the phone rings. It’s her.

"What do you think you’re doing! You can’t do these kinds of things anymore! What is wrong with you! If you do this again … I’m going to come down there!!!"

My bump started throbbing again. It doesn’t matter that I’m 60 and she’s in her 80s. The fear is still real.

"You’re 60 years old, not 6, you know," she yells.

I think I’ve heard that somewhere.

Humor writer Wayne Chan lives in the San Diego area;

cartoonist Wayne Chan is based in the Bay Area.

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Opinions expressed in this newspaper are those of the
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My Turn by

Wayne Chan

My Turn
by