Under the weather

Mind Our English by LYDIA TEH

EH Poh Nim was waiting with her sister to see the doctor at the neighbourhood clinic. Poh Lun leaned her back against the wall and rubbed her running nose with a bunch of tissues.

“You should’ve listened to us. Ma asked you to bring your thick sweater up to Genting and I said you might catch your death going out without enough clothes. But you wouldn’t listen. Now you’ve caught a bad cold. Serves you right,” Eh Poh Nim said.

“Whatever,” Poh Lun muttered.

“Aunty, what is catch your death?” a young boy of about eight or nine addressed Eh Poh Nim. “Can you catch dead people?”

Eh Poh Nim smiled. “Of course you can’t. This phrase is sometimes called catch your death of cold. Now can you guess what that means?”

The boy thought for a while, then he said, “Catch a cold?”

“Very clever. Since you’re so smart, you should know that I’m not an aunty. Call me Chieh Chieh, okay? I’m not married or old enough, you know,” Eh Poh Nim said.

Poh Lun sniggered.

“Shut up or I’ll knock your leg out of joint,” Eh Poh Nim said.

“Bye, Aunty!” the boy said, following his mother out of the clinic.

“Why don’t you dislocate the boy’s bones… A-tishoo!” Poh Lun wiped her nose again.

The Indian man who was seated beside her on the couch moved further away.

“I hope you don’t have the swine flu,” he said.

“It’s called the A(H1N1) flu,” Eh Poh Nim said. “My sister didn’t go overseas and she didn’t come into contact with anyone who has the flu, so I doubt it. I think it’s just a common cold. What about you? You look like death warmed up.”

“What? Do you mean I’m close to death? Eh! You watch your mouth!” the man said angrily.

“Sorry,” Eh Poh Nim grimaced. “I don’t mean that. It’s just an expression for looking very ill.”

“Oh ...” the man’s anger dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. “I feel really ill.”

“With all this hot weather, it’s not unusual for people to feel under the weather. People don’t fall sick because they don’t wear enough clothes,” Poh Lun said.

“Did you know that in the olden days, when a sailor was unwell, he was sent under the deck and away from the weather so that he could ...” Before she could finish the sentence, Eh Poh Nim sneezed.

“Uh-oh, you’re looking a bit off-colour, sis. Maybe you’ve caught the flu bug, too.” Poh Lun stared at her sister.

“I don’t look ill. I have the constitution of an ox,” Eh Poh Nim boasted.

“Yeah, right. You were sick only two months ago when you had a bad sore throat, remember? Strong and healthy my foot!” Poh Lun retorted.

“I didn’t have a sore throat. I merely had a frog in the throat, that’s all?” Eh Poh Nim shot back.

The Indian man turned to stare at Eh Poh Nim with a questioning look.

“That means I’ve got phlegm in my throat,” Eh Poh Nim explained.

A middle-aged woman and a teenage girl walked into the clinic.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Eh Poh Nim told her sister. “It’s getting too crowded in here. I need a breath of fresh air.”

When Eh Poh Nim vacated her seat, the girl moved in to take her place. Suddenly the girl threw up. The vomit landed on the floor and a few drops splashed onto Eh Poh Nim’s shoes.

“You’d better go and clean up, Ah Mei,” the woman told the girl. To Eh Poh Nim, she said: “So sorry. My girl’s in a bad way. I think she’s got food poisoning.”

Eh Poh Nim flashed a tight smile at the woman. Quick as a flash, the dispensary nurse hurried over with a pail of water and a mop.

“Let me do it.” The woman took the mop from the nurse. “Sorry to make such a mess.”

Eh Poh Nim felt her tension loosening. The little mishap wasn’t anyone’s fault. The girl was in a poor condition after all. She made her way to the toilet to wash the vomit off her shoes. It was a good thing she wasn’t wearing sandals. When the girl passed her on the way out of the toilet, Eh Poh Nim smiled sympathetically at her.