There is a kind of mania in mental illness, and I am this type, but "since ancient times, those with mania and depression are often talented."
There was a young patient named Zhang Aimin, who was isolated in a small room during the SARS period. He sang early in the morning: "The East is red, the sun is rising, China has produced a Zhang Aimin." He sang with confidence, without blushing or feeling embarrassed. He walked unsteadily and was restless; a female nurse wanted to restrain him, but Nurse Tao Lingwei said not to. The nurse still wanted to restrain him, and Tao Lingwei said, "The nurse's orders must be followed." I said, "You tell her to listen to you." Tao Lingwei replied, "She won't listen, so I have to pressure her with authority. He walks unsteadily; if he is restrained, he might fall without support."
Later, he was discharged before his illness was cured, still unsteady on his feet. We all found it strange; a young nurse said, "Not everyone can recover to 100%."
There was a fellow patient, older than me, named Zhang Zhongtang, who had a bit of an air about him. I jokingly called him the provincial party secretary and said this to his wife, who laughed and said he was still the provincial party secretary. We summarized that we could also diagnose illnesses: excessive talking is mania, too little talking is depression, and just the right amount of talking is schizophrenia, and then we all laughed heartily.
One time, Nurse Shi Lianghua laughed loudly and repeated my lines:
Neurotic 22 11, (1),
From a distance, it looks like a mother,
Up close, it's a dog.
(2),
From a distance, it looks like a wall,
Up close, it also looks like a wall,
The more you look, the more it looks like a wall,
It turns out to be a wall.
(3),
An old lady wearing fitness pants,
So flashy.
(4),
I also want to go,
To the TV station.
But,
The Communist Party,
Doesn't want me.
She found it particularly funny.
When I was ill, my brother told me that San Mao had committed suicide, and I didn't believe it. Later, I wrote "In Memory of San Mao" and submitted it to the Zhenjiang Daily, but of course, non-mainstream works were not published.
Neurotic 22 2, A Stranger in Heaven---In Memory of San Mao
In the year 1992, in the month of plum blossoms, on a day of helplessness, Ge Yimin offered a tribute to the stranger in heaven, saying: I think of San Mao since she came to this murky world, it has been forty-nine years. I remember San Mao: in terms of quality, gold and jade cannot describe her preciousness; in terms of character, ice and snow cannot describe her purity; in terms of spirit, stars and moon cannot describe her essence; in terms of appearance, flowers and moon cannot describe her beauty.
Five hundred years ago, an Indian gray-clad man took her away,
One year ago, she arrived at the Taipei Veterans General Hospital,
San Mao told him she was so tired, so tired, so tired,
The gray-clad man spread his pure white wings,
San Mao finally let go of her Sahara,
And began another journey,
This stranger in heaven,
Sat at the right hand of Jehovah,
She was amazed to find,
The Sahara she pursued all her life,
Actually appeared in Jehovah's kingdom.
But San Mao still repeated people's last words,
So another San Mao was repeating another Sahara to people,
He must also be a stranger in heaven,
Because this planet has no place for him.
When I was first hospitalized, I brought a bag of salted chicken. A chubby old man asked me for some, and I gave him two pieces. After he finished, he still wanted more. Out of kindness, I said, "Let's share," and gave him more. He immediately went to the bathroom to eat, with a few people following him. Later, he still asked me for things, and I said, "I just brought you a bag of salted chicken; what good is that?" A male nurse said, "Even if you gave him a pig, it wouldn't help." This old man also ate leftover plain porridge from others; he was indeed a pitiful person.
The second morning after entering the hospital, I had no cigarettes. A group of people were smoking in the washroom. I went over, and someone asked me to ask a man around 30 years old for a cigarette, saying he would give it to me. His name was Zhang Jun, and he gave me one, soon giving me another. The patients said he claimed to have seen HJT.
One time, I talked to the patients and a female nurse about communism and mentioned, "Zhang Jun said he has seen HJT." Just then, Zhang Jun came over, and I immediately said to him, "Who doesn't want to realize communism? HJT wants it too."
In 2011, I liked Liu Xin from the "Super Girl" competition; she loved to sing "Old Boy." In the ward, I loved to sing: "That is the person I think of day and night, deeply in love with." One time, my wife came to bring me food, and when I saw her, I immediately sang to her. The nurse said this time I sang to the right person, and my wife just laughed.