I used to work as an operating theatre nurse back in my days in Singapore. During the 15 months I worked there, I experienced several paranormal encounters — some during the day, but most during the night. There were simply too many strange incidents to fit into one post, so I’ve decided to split them into two parts.
This happened during my second nursing job. Before joining the operating theatre, I had spent a year working in an Orthopaedic/ENT Class C ward near my home. I was unhappy there, and eventually a friend persuaded me to transfer to the operating theatre at one of Singapore’s oldest hospitals.
The hospital was huge — one of the busiest in Singapore — with multiple disciplines and 28 operating theatres all located on the same floor. I worked under the ENT/plastic surgery discipline.
For the first few months of orientation, we mostly worked office hours. Once we became more familiar with the environment, we were rotated into irregular shifts and night duties. I cannot remember the exact date, but I know this incident happened sometime in July 2001.
That afternoon, the department was short-staffed. My theatre manager asked me to relieve a senior nurse during his tea break.
Before I continue, let me briefly explain the layout of a typical operating theatre.
There was the anaesthetic room, where the patient would first be checked by the anaesthetist and nurse. Next was the scrub room, where staff washed and prepared for surgery. Then came the prep room — a storage and preparation area filled with sterile instruments, sutures, linen, equipment trolleys and supplies. Scrub nurses also prepared their surgical trays there. The prep room only had one door, which served as both the entrance and exit.
Beyond that was the operating room itself, containing the operating table, monitors, clocks, X-ray equipment and surgical machines. Finally, there was the utility room, where used instruments and dirty trolleys were sent for cleaning.
Back to the incident.
After my tea break, my manager sent me to help in the cardio theatre. Three staff members were already assigned there, but one was a junior nurse being mentored and double-scrubbed with a senior. That left only one circulating nurse available — and he was due for his break.
I had no idea what operation was taking place, but the theatre felt tense the moment I walked in. Three surgeons were crowded around the operating table, alongside two scrub nurses. The anaesthetist and anaesthetic nurse were also inside.
A portable X-ray machine stood near the wall because the mounted X-ray viewing board had apparently broken down.
I positioned myself near the prep room entrance. Since the prep room had only one door, nobody was inside at the time, and my back was facing the doorway. A trolley sat on my left, while the broken X-ray board was mounted on the wall to my right.
Before leaving, the senior nurse casually told me that everything had already been prepared and there should not be any problems. Hearing that reassured me, and I quietly carried on with my duties.
Then it happened.
Out of nowhere, I felt someone pinch my left arm.
Not a brush. Not a tap.
A very clear pinch.
I spun around immediately — but there was nobody there.
Behind me was only the prep room door.
My heart started racing.
The moment I turned back towards the operating room, chaos erupted.
The patient suddenly collapsed.
The surgeons stopped the operation immediately. At almost the same time, the pressure bag connected to the IV line burst violently, spraying fluid all over the floor. The anaesthetist and nurse began scrambling around the theatre while alarms sounded in the background.
Everyone rushed to save the patient, but I could barely process what was happening because I was still frozen from the shock of being pinched.
Then something even stranger happened.
The broken X-ray board beside me suddenly lit up.
Nobody had touched it.
It had not been working all day.
At that moment, I felt completely helpless. I was standing alone at the entrance of the prep room, trapped between panic in the operating theatre and something I could not explain behind me.
For one terrifying second, a thought crossed my mind:
Had I somehow gotten in the way of the Grim Reaper?
Was the pinch a warning?
Thankfully, the senior nurse returned shortly after, and I wasted no time leaving the theatre.
Later, I told several colleagues — including the senior nurse I had relieved — about what happened. He insisted the X-ray board was definitely faulty and said he had never experienced anything like that before.
Then he jokingly added, perhaps “he” or “she” did not like me because I was from another discipline and simply wanted to “teach me a lesson.”
Thankfully, the patient survived.
Even after all these years, I still remember the feeling of that pinch on my arm.
And to this day, I still cannot explain who — or what — touched me.
This story was later featured on Mr Zhou’s Ghost Stories podcast on 6 May 2022. If you understand Mandarin, do check it out. You may also want to read my posts about Chinese taboos during the Hungry Ghost Festival and the things you should never do during the seventh lunar month.