Miracle: Operation Cancelled
Guess what! I didn’t have any operation after all!! I think all the praying from family and frens and self must have worked and generated a miracle, or at least, that’s what my mom and fren calls it.
I think my Catholic aunt has been praying like mad all the way from Melbourne, my Buddhist aunt in Gombak, my athetist fren in Spore, my Christian frens here in KL, and why am I talking about religion here?
, oh, not to forget my no-religion father, one can only hope, my editor sent a thoughtful sms to me this morning, my ex-colleague calls me the day before, my uni-mate calls me, my ex-colleague sends me an sms today… not to mention I have someone lend me his Guardian Angel
(Thanks! I think mine and yours did overtime!! lol...), and hugs
and kind thoughts
The doctors just couldn’t find the lump.
Doc 1: Where’s the lump? (feeling) I don’t feel it. All I feel is tissue.
Me: Right here. (touching the spot) This here.
Doc 2: No. That’s reconnective tissue. No defined lump. (pressing and prodding)
Doc 1: Yeah, nothing there. Maybe it's underneath the tissue. But there isn't any need to cut it.Me: But it was there! It was hard. I didn’t imagine it! I had it for more than 10 years!! (getting panicky yet hopeful of a cancelled operation)
Doc 1: No. It’s subsided. It’s probably resolved. So let’s observe for 4 weeks, and see if you still need the op.
Me: You mean, I don’t get any op done today?!
Doc 2: Nope. Any questions?
I couldn’t think of a single question for awhile. Then I snapped out of it and bombarded him with tons of questions that were repetitive I admit, but I wanted to ascertain that it wasn’t dangerous to cancel the op.
I was relieved, no, AM relieved. I was not keen on a surgery. I hate needles and pain. But since the lump, according to the doc, has disappeared, it must be a miracle. Everything’s fine. Nevertheless, I’m getting another opinion. And I will do it outside, not at this stupid government hospital
. I will not bore you all with the details
Bottomline, I will never go to UH anymore. No sirree…
Thank you, Lord. For the miracle which I believe is through the power of prayers of family and frens. Thank you, all!!! *muck muck*
Tomorrow is my operation. And I've been praying about it since last week! I hope the doctor who operates on me tomorrow is competent... !!!
The thing has been itchy and tingly since yesterday. Don't think it's a good sign. Sure hope tomorrow I will not be subjected to too much pain, with blood gushing out from my wound. I'm not squirmish about blood. But then again, I've not been awake for my appendicitis operation when I was 13. For this, I'm gonna be on local anesthesic. And I hate injections. Even when I went for my wisdom tooth extraction I hated the injection to numb my gums...
Oh well... guess I'll only know how it'll turn out tomorrow... Hate pain, hate pain...
This is soooooo funny.
DILBERT'S RULES OF ORDER
1. I can only please one person a day. Today is not your day. Tomorrow is not looking good either.
2. I love deadlines. I especially like the whooshing sound they make as they go flying by.
3. Tell me what you need, and I'll tell you how to get along without it.
4. Accept that some days you are the pigeon and some days the statue.
5. Needing someone is like needing a parachute. If they aren't there the first time, chances are you won't be needing them again.
6. I don't have an attitude problem, you have a perception problem.
7. Last night I lay in bed looking up at the stars in the sky, and I thought to myself where the heck is the ceiling?
8. My reality cheque bounced.
9. I don't suffer from stress. I am a carrier.
10. On the keyboard of life, always keep one finger on the escape key.
11. Some days I am slower than a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter.
12. Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, because you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.
13. Everybody is somebody else's weirdo.
14. Never argue with an idiot. They drag you down to their level, then beat you with experience.
15. A pat on the back is only a few centimetres from a kick in the butt.
16. Don't be irreplaceable - if you can't be replaced, you can't be promoted.
17. After any salary rise, you will have less money at the end of the month than you did before.
18. The more crap you put up with, the more crap you are going to get.
19. You can go anywhere you want if you look serious and carry a clipboard.
20. Eat one live toad first thing in the morning and nothing worse will happen to you the rest of the day.
21. If it wasn't for the last minute, nothing would get done.
22. When you don't know what to do, walk fast and look worried.
23. Following the rules will not get the job done. When confronted by a difficult problem, you can solve it more easily by reducing it to the question, "How would the Lone Ranger handle this?"
*rolling on floor laughing*
Oh dear... another cheese
I went and changed one or two things and came out as another cheese! I think I'm a schizo cheese!
You are a Camembert.
You are a creamy, delicate tasting cheese. You are refined and graceful and very organized. As a very insightful cheese, you like to ponder the meaning of life.A very famous French cheese, Camembert dates back to the 18th century and is named for a Norman village in which there is a statue of the creator of this particular variety (Marie Harel). Originally, this cheese was dry and yellow-brown, but after a few modifications it became softer and more earthy. In 1855 one of Marie Harel's daughters presented Napoleon with a piece of that cheese, saying that it came from village called Camembert. He liked it a lot and from that moment Camembert became known by its contemporary name. At the beginning of its ripening, Camembert is crumbly and soft and gets creamier over time (usually 2-3 weeks). A genuine Camembert has a delicate salty taste. [ Country: France Milk: cow milk Texture: soft Recommended Wine: St. Emilion, St Estephe ]
from the Blue Witch
, who is a Blue chesse. What else?
You are a Swiss
You are pale yellow, nutty-flavored cheese with large holes. You are indifferent to the world around you. You are dreamy and often lost in your thoughts.Swiss has a firmer texture than baby Swiss, and is known for being shiny, pale yellow with large holes. Flavor is mild, sweet and nut-like. It is an American imitation of the Swiss Emmental. The process is specifically designed so that no rind forms on the cheese (maturing takes place in vacuum-packed plastic wrapping) for mass-production purposes. The taste of the cheese is very mild. It can be eaten with apples, pears, grapes and thinly-sliced prosciutto ham and salami, fruity white wine, aged red wine, crane-raspberry juice, tomato or vegetable juice. [ Country: United States Milk: cow milk Texture: hard ]
So I discover I'm a hard, nutty cheese... Oh, the disappointment.
Cheese Test: What type of cheese are you?
My sincere apologies to the Cheese Test creators cos my blog can't seem to post the codes and show the picture properly. Sorry. But the link is there.
I’m talking to my fren now on the phone, while typing this. I’m trying to keep my mind occupied cos I got hit by this wave of despair. It was rather bad cos it was triggered by something really trivial. It was just a song. Sung by Anne Murray.
I tried not to think about it. I was out on an errand. And the song came blasting on the radio in the car. And it affected me so fast. I started cursing cos I didn’t have my Bach Rescue Remedies in my bag.
It was so bad, my heart started palpitating, my hands were starting to tremble, my mind becoming darker by the minute, beginning to talk curtly to my colleague, at the same time, was biting every word I said. I knew I was in trouble. “Shit,” I thought. I threw myself into ‘Heavy-duty Working’ mode.
Then thought I should call my fren who’s traveling and find out how he was, and so keep the despair at bay. It worked. He made me laugh and forget everything else. Feel so much better now. “Thank you, Jung. YOU are my candle in the dark.” I think I will go home and sleep early tonight.
Here’s the culprit.
Every now and then I cry
Every night you keep stayin' on my mind
All my friends say I'll survive
It just takes time
But I don't think time is gonna heal this broken heart
No I don't see how it can if it's broken all apart
A million miracles could never stop the pain
Or put all the pieces together again
No I don't think time is gonna heal this broken heart
No I don't see how it can while we are still apart
And when you hear this songI hope that you will see
That time won't heal a broken-hearted me
Every day is just the same
Playin' games, different lovers, different names
They keep sayin' I'll survive
It just takes time
Time won't heal a broken-hearted me
HEY! YOU QUESTIONING ME?!
I visited Jesse at ipso blogo
and he told me to do this. Please see the instructions below:
(A) First, recommend to me: 1. a movie 2. a book 3. a musical artist, song, or album
(B) I want everyone who reads this to ask me three questions, no more, no less. Ask me anything you want.
(C) Then I want you to go to your blog or journal (if you have one), copy and paste this allowing your friends to ask you anything & say that you stole it from me.
All about the heart
I started to think about a title for this blog right after dinner. I thought of calling it ‘Gloriously touched’. But then I remembered a very sad news that happened and spread like wildfire in blog world recently. I will get to that in a bit.
I’m extremely happy, but mostly touched, because I just had a surprise dinner with my ex-colleagues.
Yes, those graphic designers whom I’m complained about on my blog before. The very same graphic designers who were cold and aloof. Sc – the one who gave me nicknames like ‘Cow’, ‘Milkbar’ and ‘Barney’. Sp – the one who was very stand-offish towards me.
That was all in the past I know. It was only this year, while my editor was off on her sabbatical that I got to know them better. That I came to appreciate their humour and behaviour. That I’ve come to miss when they resigned from the company.
I just never thought that they would go about behind my back to plan a dinner, get me a present and possibly, a movie, if we all still felt like it. I never thought that the one who still calls me ‘Cow’ like an endearment (sigh) would bluff me in the morning about not being able to make it for the movie (my original plan with Sp after my Shu Uemura event) and then suddenly turn up, grinning, and holding up my present, with a cute teddy bear ‘Happy Birthday’ balloon. And his office was so far, that he had to get a colleague to drop him at the train station to catch a monorail, stop at the heart of KL – Masjid Jamek, the craziest and busiest
area – and catch a cab to my office building, to ask a former colleague to drop him at the shopping mall where I was at for my event! Oh my god, I was so touched! Extremely…
They gave me a treat at this place – Italianis. Lovely food. A little pricey. But the two of them were sharing. And I was simply touched. I was so filled with this feeling after we parted that I thought I could burst. And I told myself, no, dissipate some of it, or you couldn’t take it. Then I stopped and thought, Hell no! Those two went to so much trouble, how can I not want to burst with this joy of knowing them as friends, and not marvel at how much they were willing to celebrate my birthday. No. I will not let go of this wonderful feeling. I will hug it to bed tonight. And sleep with a smile on my face. And possibly have happy dreams tonight.
Prayers and thoughts
A sad thing happened to a fellow blogger. An accident
. Who needs prayers and thoughts for his recovery. And for the quick contact of his twin brother to alert him of his critical condition.
It is a very sad and sorry world we live in when accidents as such happen. Discrimination. Racism. Intolerance. I hope that we can teach our younger generation to be much more tolerant, humane, and accepting of difference. We keep forgetting that life is about the heart, the person. Not material riches or earthly things. It's about goodness, achieving it and cherishing it. No matter the gender, sexuality, skin or race.
Will never be a fashionist
Have you ever, just sat in front of your wardrobe, wondering what to wear the next day?
I have. Almost everyday. And just now, I sat and stared at my wardrobe for 30 minutes.
I’m still stumped with what to wear tomorrow.
I will never be known as a fashion plate. I don’t dress so that people can comment that I am so well-dressed. I dress what I feel I look good in. And basically, what I don’t look so fat in!
But there are friends who still remember the good old days, when I, when we, used to dress up for clubbing. Diva sigh… oh, those were the good old days.
Clothes, to me, is for making sure that one doesn’t feel cold or get arrested for nudity. That’s a very frank opinion. I am seriously not one to dress up for the sake of dressing up. I am only granted occasional spurts of genius in matching clothes. Only occasionally. Like last Thursday and Friday. I actually felt the genius draining off by Sunday for my birthday celebration with the gang. But I managed to go for ‘safe’.
But as I sat in front of my wardrobe just now, I was stumped. I really don’t know what to wear tomorrow. And I have an event to go to after work, for work.
It’s Shu Uemura’s cosmetic launch-cum-competition, which will start from 6pm. After that I intend to go for dinner and watch The Incredibles with my ex-colleagues. But I still need to dress properly. God I hope I get some inspiration while sleeping on it.
I am a Dragon
You're like a dragon. Dragons where the terrible
creatures that lived in large caves and often
swooped down out of the sky and stole sheep,
cows, and even people from the countryside to
eat. They were gigantic with spikes along the
back and tail. Some had wings, legs, and the
ability to breathe fire. Even in the Bible, the
Levithian resembled something like a dragon so
they may have actually existed. Dragons were
loyal protectors that were more powerful that
any other animal that ever lived. Some where
peaceful and others just wanted to destroy. The
pest control for dragons were Knights who were
appointed the task of killing a dragon. Some
stories tell us that eating the dragon heart
let you claim victory in any battle or eating
the tongue would allow you to win any debate.
(If you cannot see the picture, go to my
userpage and look near the bottom. There should
be the picture and description for all the
What Mystical Creature Are You? (Pictures)
brought to you by Quizilla
I dunno what got into me, but this year I seemed to have gone crazy over my birthday, because I started celebrating on Friday night. I think it's because I'm approaching the big 3-o in another two years.
Anyhow, I called my gurlfrens over to my house cos I've got wine and a bottle of JD. And because I wanted to get high and possibly a little drunk before falling comatose into my bed, just a few steps away.
Was reasonably buzzed. Mission accomplished. Amiee brought over iced wine from Canada - beautiful stuff. Hau brought junk food - always welcomed. I got coke for the JD. I think I got the proportions wrong for the JD Coke. hahahaaa....
Sat up drinking and talking till 3am the next morning. I drunk-smsed my fren who refused to drive all the way to my house. Hmph. And my teddy bear over in NZ. :)
And went to work at 11am.
Had to go check on the magazine proofs before sending it out to the colour separators. Then went for lunch with my fren, who gave me a treat. Nice. Then dinner with the family and window shopping after that to aid digestion. hahahaaa...
Sunday saw me going to church as usual. But I was sooooo sleepy! I couldn't stop yawning. I think the alcohol was starting to kick in! Went home to nap and then prepared to go out dinner with my gang. Went to Dome. I ordered the vegetable bruschetta. Beautiful!!! Basically we ordered stuff and it went around the table. We used to do that in Perth alot while we were studying. I missed that cozy companionship-ness. This time my fren Ju who had not been inclined to drive to my place joined us. And he bitched about the sms. Hahahhaaa... I told him he was lucky I didnt actually call! He challenged me to try and see what happened after that!! hhahahaaa...
After that Hau and I went to check out this fitness centre called Celebrity Fitness, cos I wanted to go back for dance classes, as I used to go for jazz while I was studying in Singapore. After taking us on a tour, the consultant said that if we joined within 24 hours, there would be no joining fee, only a monthly fee of RM149, which must be maintained for a year, and all classes are inclusive in the offer. It's tempting, cos it's on the way to work and to home, and I can join all the classes, which has Hip-hop, and free use of the sauna and steam. Best of all, it's open 24/7, 365 days, even on holidays, from 6am to 12 midnight. I have to give my answer by 10pm today. Gotta think this one carefully.
Then we went drinking at Chilli's. Ju bought me 2 vodka limes! I'm a happy cat. :) *purr* I slept so well last night...
Now I gotta get back into the working mode. *groan* And suddenly I'm craving for cake... I didn't have cake this year... hmmm...
Just came back from dinner with the gurls and one of the gurl’s boyfren who dropped by.
Talked about so many things.
On how it sucks big-time
Bitches and bastards we know in this small-world industry
Our industry is small and we pretty much know who is who and ‘Oh, you know him too? Prick isn't he? Bitch isn't she?’
After breaking up with the loser and gurlfren beater, A’s finally found someone who’s gentle and sweet. Hooray for her.
Approaching marriage of one of our uni mates
Thinking what to get her for her wedding August next year. Yup, we’re starting to think about it now.
Me migrating to Aussieland
I’m still going. Just need to be a little brave.
Shaving our legs, armpits and pubic area
Did the pubic area once and it was horrid. So not doing it again.
Changing of jobs
News of retrenchment going on for one of our gurlfrens. But A’s still worried about not being able to get a new job when she leaves in December. After all, A had to quit when she was diagnosed with thyroid.
Update of the Raya gathering I went to that they didn’t attend
My junior from Penang came down for J’s Raya open house. We had a ball. Updates going around the table. Beautiful gathering.
Recalling a significant incident that happened in Perth while we were studying
We had a really interesting time in Perth when this happened. While it was horrific, it was vastly intriguing. Can’t talk about this cos there’s still lots of mystery unsolved yet.
Piercing earrings and tattoos
Gurls are trying to convince me to pierce my ears again. Nooooo! And to do a tattoo. NNNOOOOoooo… but if I do it, I will do it on my hand though. And it'll be a spider. Black widow.
A’s boyfren is a handphone freak. He wants to check out the latest handphones. I picked his brain on which I should change to.
My gurlfren wanted to do breast implants, which we forbade her to do
Seems they are offering this special deal in Penang. Come do the operation, that costs something like 700-1000 odd, inclusive of a 5-day holiday. Freaky man. Heard that lots of foreigners come to do it there. Scary.
Bra cup sizes
Like all gurls who get together, we talk about each other’s bra sizes. Which we confuse all the time becos there’s American, Australian and Japanese.
Wonderful men who don’t smoke and womanise
So few, so scarce. Sigh…
Having children the normal way or the C-way
I dun wan to do it. I will adopt. I hate pain. There shall be no pain in my womb.
Clubbing or chilling
We are sooooo dead. We dun club anymore. Rather, we enjoy chilling in pubs and drink and talk.
My gurlfren says she’s old and I told her, "So what am I? Ancient?" She’s freaking 3 years younger than me! Man…
I had 5 marriage proposals in my lifetime. 3 were from straight men, 2 were from gays. And the most touching proposals were from the 2 gays. I love them to bits. They'll never know how much.
Where are we going?
Still deciding where my birthday celebration venue would be and where we will be drinking after that. I’m voting Bernard’s. Anyone wanna join me? Drinks on me.
FitnessMan not very impressive. I only liked a few. The others were too boyish and small-sized. One can only hope that their equipment is better. Daa.... I'll put up some pics later when it's downloaded.
My teddy bear sent me something that made me crack up. Enjoy.
* * *
Did you know that in the human body there is a nerve that connects the eyeball to the anus? It is called the anal optic nerve.
It is responsible for giving people a shitty outlook on life.
If you do not believe it; Pull a hair from your ass, and see if it doesn't bring a tear to your eye.
* * *
Lol... how many were starting to try before stopping?!!
Holiday reflections and Hunky men
This is my Raya reflections.
Sunday, 14 November 2004 @3.36pm
I’m feeling very happy cos I just hung up from the phone with the Wanderer, who called me ALL THE WAY FROM CANADA, to wish me ‘Selamat Hari Raya’. Nut. *affectionately* (smile)
Now if only my ke’chara will call me from Perth, and my teddy bear from New Zealand too! But he better call me next Saturday or there’ll be hell to pay!
I marvel at him really. Being able to jump ship to a foreign country to work and live. Very brave. Yet very young. For all his experience in work and in certain areas, he is still young. For some, age is something, not so much a barrier, but just a condition. It’s temporary, but exist nonetheless.
After church this morning I dropped my mom for her Chinese instrument class while my brother and I went to 1U to shop. I needed to do Christmas shopping anyway, but also as I was browsing the shops I was looking for clothes and things for myself.
I realised that I’ve fallen into a trap. A trap of being ‘just so’. It started after I went into teaching. The only meaning clothes had to me while teaching, was to present a decent, simple look. After all, I’m only teaching, I don’t need to dress to impress. It was different was I was in PR; clothes meant power, authority, intelligence and efficiency. When you are in PR, appearances matter. How else to pull the wool over clients’ eyes?
When you’re teaching, you are not modelling. They look at your skills, your quality of teaching. Not your clothes. Nevertheless I tried not to become dowdy. Unfortunately when I went into the magazine, I was already going downhill. Oh, if Chris were here he would have told me this a long time ago. But he isn't. So there. I remember the times he used to tell me that I looked good in this, I looked good in that, or why am I wearing that today. At the magazine I didn’t go out a lot. I only wear a smarter looking top when I did. Otherwise, I wore T-shirt and black pants to work everyday.
What prompted this ‘awakening’? Last week when a long-lost uni friend came back down from Cameron Highlands to meet up with A and I, after almost 2 years, we did the gurl thing – shopping. It has been that long that we three went shopping. And we used to toss each other clothes to try. "You should try this one, Ai", "Hey, this would look good on you, Jenn", "Amiee, try this, and try that colour".
I found myself staring at the mirror, in a very nice sleeveless-cum-halter blue top that was well matched with an A-line skirt with a slit on one thigh, and realised that I’ve never looked like that since September 2002. Jabbing a finger at myself in the mirror, I said, "I haven't seen you in a while." I lost the art of dressing after I left my PR job.
Time for a change.
* * *
Back to Today. Tomorrow I'll be in Sungei Wang ogling men. Our magazine is the official mag for the Fitness Men Championship
and I have to represent the mag and accept some token of appreciation from the sponsors. My colleague put my name up. That bitch. *affectionately* I have going up on stages. Makes me self-conscious. Nevertheless, tomorrow is the semi-finals. There will be hunky men who work out at gyms regularly, muscles, speedos, tuxedos and all. *salivating* Can't hardly wait. If only I can bag one home now... sigh... Let me see if I can grab the camera from my editor and snap some good shots of these hunky men and post online and print for my wall. Cuci mata
whenever I want to. ahahhaa.....
*For my foreigner frens, sight for sore eyes is the equivalent for 'cuci mata' .
Back to kick ass!
After 3 trips to the western doctor and 2 trips to the chinese sensei, I am finally well on the road to recovery and ready to kick some ass!!!
Man, what a roller coaster ride. I now totally remember why I hate getting sick. Have always hated being sick and the weakness that comes along with it and the vulnerability of your defenses; brings down your emotional barriers and leaves you vulnerable to haphazard bombardment from all corners, the slightest thing triggers a spell. Gah!
And the long weekend holiday really helped. Imagine: First Thursday for Deepavali. Then Saturday, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday for Hari Raya. Ooo... bliss profound.
I'm going to shift my stuff to my designer's table since she's gone. It's bigger and much more spacious. I believe a change in Feng Shui is necessary. Gives a much cleaner energy vibe, I think. Lot of negative energy and people around. Need to move the energy fields a bit.
I tried to get online on Sunday but couldn't. Some reflections and stuff. I'll try to post it later from home again. Now I gotta head back to work. Arrgghh...
It suddenly occurred to me that I haven’t had lunch yet.
“I usually don’t eat when I have migraine, you know.” said I.
“Oh. I didn’t know.”
“Well, I’m telling you now.”
I clutched my arms tighter around my midriff, glad to have enlightened someone.
“Who are you talking to?”
My eyes snapped opened.
Was that me talking to… me? Again?
I turned my head towards the clock. 2.48pm. Felt my head gingerly. Well, slight ache. The worst was over.
First saw, or rather, couldn’t see, the first vestiges of incoming migraine. Quickly boiled hot water for a peppermint tea to stave off some measure of the pain. Not that it would have helped a lot, but at least something.
Funny how it is during these moments that one is vulnerable, is painfully aware of the loneliness. How one is suddenly inundated with emotion, and suddenly weeps in despair, that the tears just flows like a faulty tap. And no matter how much you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, the tears still come.
Now I think of Ronan and his endless lying in the ocean. ‘Hush and lonely.’ Think of his endless years of living, waiting; ‘No hope and no heart.’ How the centuries flow into one another. People come, people go. Yet he remains. And the tears flow ever more. How I know how he feels.
Even now as the tears refuse to stop, I recall someone, perhaps it was a gurlfriend, or maybe I overheard a stranger, say, “Even if I never find a partner, I will want a child to love and who will love me. Perhaps it is so that I will know some form of love at least.”
Indeed that sentiment had me thinking that it wasn’t such a bad notion.
And still the tears come.
Let me try to sleep off this migraine now. Wouldn’t be the first time I sleep with tears.
wuaahahahaaa... I'm sick again. waaahahhaaaa....
Can't do anything but laugh about it.
Got caught in the rain on Friday. So got a cold and cough back. waahahahaaaaa.....
It's either laugh or cry, and I got no time to cry. waaahahhaaa...
But actually I'm feeling cranky now cos my head hurts... yes, again... can't seem to get rid of it, even though I'm taking the tramadol. Shit...
At work now. Colleague leaving me alone cos they know I'm not in the mood. waaahahhaaaa....
Geez, when, oh when! am I getting over this sickly period!!! waaaahhahaaaaahaha.. ha.. ha.. ha..
What's in a name
Got this - PAK Dictionary of names
- from my InDeath family. Mine is freakingly true. Epecially when Chinese families don't usually give Christian names to their children. Mine is entirely my choice, chosen when I was in secondary school. I remember it didn't really take me long to decide what name for myself.
Creates a dual nature in that you can be very generous and understanding, but you can also be so candid in your expression that you create misunderstanding. You struggle with the requirement to soften your expression with tact and diplomacy and to consider the feelings of others.
-- So true, so true.
Difficulty in accepting advice or admitting that you may have made a mistake causes you to appear to be stubborn and set in your ways. Thus, you have too often created the wrong impression, and friendships have suffered.
-- Yes, it has happened.
This name does offer creative talent where there is the opportunity for ingenuity and originality.
-- I'd like to think so.
You have a tendency, at times, to have too many ideas on the go, and thus your efforts are scattered and many things do not reach completion.
-- Man, so true.
You are inclined to do to excess the things you like to do.
-- Yes, I try not overdrink bubble tea.
You have very intense feelings and find it difficult to maintain stability and happiness.
If you allowed it, temper and self-pity could be problems.
-- Happens all the time.
Tension could cause nervous disorders, or centre in the head bringing weaknesses in the eyes, ears, sinuses, or teeth.
-- Oh, aye.
No System, No Hope
I finally went to see the doctor about the lump in my armpit today. Actually my mother insisted.
It had suddenly grown bigger on Monday evening, again, discovered while I was in the shower. Talk about history repeating itself. Sheesh. Anyway, the newest thing was, it hurt. At the slightest touch, at the slightest brush of the shirt sleeve.
Truth be told, I was afraid. Very afraid. But again, I left it alone, hoping it would subside and go away.
On Wednesday, it was still there. And it still hurt. So my mom insisted I went to the doc the next day and she even took emergency leave at work.
Went to the government hospital – Universiti Hospital, or UH, as we all call it. which brought back ALL the reasons why I WANT TO GET THE HELL OUT OF MALAYSIA!!!
The Reason Why I Am Getting Out of Malaysia
Everyone knows that when you go to UH, you have to go early. As in be there by 7. A. M.
Silly me woke up late cos I couldn’t sleep well last night and so wasn’t inclined to wake up early. So by the time I dropped my brother off to work and had breakfast and drove to UH, it was about 8.20.
By the time we found parking and walked to the registry it was 8.30.
We had to press one of those electronic boxes that spat out numbers for the queue.
My number: 0080.
The current number: 0047.
Okay… We had to play the waiting game.
There were only 3 counters opened. Okay.
And so we sat there waiting. Mom decided to call into the office to check on some things.
And along came a little brown mouse from under my chair, whose body was about 4 inches, with a tail about the same length. It scuttled up to the slippered feet belonging to the person seated in front of me and nuzzled the slippers. Blissfully unaware, the person merely shook her feet, and when the little mouse gave a much harder push, the person looked down with alarm and gave a start, which frightened the little brown thing and it ran past my feet, towards the back of the room quickly. By this time, some people had already noticed the mouse and were talking. As the mouse disappeared some men behind me laughed.
I’m thinking in my mind, what is there to laugh? There is a mouse, or rather, a rat, in a bloody hospital. Talk about sanitation.
But it really was a cute little thing. I only managed to catch a flash of black beady eyes on a furry little body with a handsome tail.
Can’t help loving all sorts of animals. Even rodents.
After my mom hung up, I told her about the little mouse and she was quite ready to jump onto her seat, just before I told her that it was gone.
"Goodness, gracious me," she said. "A rat in a hospital. Only in Malaysia."
My number was finally called. Granted the woman was friendly. After asking me why I was there, she said she would direct me to the Surgery Clinic.
Erm… Surgery Clinic? Shit. And then she gave me another number and told me to wait at the side, where another counter would call my number.
So I waited. With the word ‘Surgery’ playing over and over again in my head like a broken record. I kept looking around at the people, the clothes, the building, just to not think of the word ‘Surgery’.
Words are very, VERY powerful.
Finally my second number was called. And the lady asked me more questions of my details; age, name, occupation, etc. Then she told me to wait again, for someone to take me to the Surgery Clinic.
And again, the waiting game. With the word ‘Surgery’ playing on and on in my head.
Finally I heard my name called, and another woman was there, beckoning me. I jumped up and pulled my mom. We went to another section of the building. Went into the lift, came out and followed the woman a series of rather winding and complicated corridors, before she stopped at one busy station, passed my folder to me, and gave me a number, and told me to sit down and wait for it to be called.
My number: 0030.
The current number: 0008.
Okay. So we sat down. And waited again. It was about 9.10.
At 9.30, we were still waiting.
At 10, we were still waiting.
At 10.30, we were STILL waiting.
At 10.45, my mom was getting worried.
A man had asked to borrow our newspaper earlier. Mom decided to chummy with him and find out what was the usual procedure. He saw me clutching my folder.
"Is that your folder?"
"You shouldn’t be holding it. otherwise how do they know you are here and call your number?"
"But a woman told me to hold it and sit down and wait."
"Something’s wrong." He took my folder and went to the station with my mom. There was a nurse/administrator there, and when she heard what the man and my mom had to say, she had this resigned look on her face. She started to speak, in Malay, about how I was supposed to PAY first, then GET ANOTHER NUMBER, to be CALLED into the doctor’s clinic.
Naturally we complained. It was one of THEM who told us to SIT and WAIT. Noone, NOONE told us that we had to PAY first, before GETTING to see the doctor.
She didn’t even apologised, just asked us again, "She didn’t tell you to pay first?" She only gestured us to the cashier, where we got yet another number, and was directed to the section where the doctor’s clinic was, and told us that this was the doctor’s room, sit and wait.
And so we sat down again. And waited. My mom and I didn’t really have much to say. What to say? We knew the system here was like this. But like everyone else, we went there because it was cheaper than the private clinics. She only said one thing as we waited again.
"Get out of here, as soon as you can." I could only nod fervently.
Luckily we didn’t wait long this time. Went in and explained to the doc why I was there. He examined me and then explained to me what I had.
What I had was a sebaceous cyst that got infected somehow and reacted by swelling and so the only option I had was to operate it, get rid of it.
"It’s not cancerous?"
"No. Don’t worry. This is fairly normal. And it’s a quick operation. 15 minutes only."
Thank God, I thought.
There and then, we made an appointment for the surgery. 29th November. A Monday. I wanted to do it on Friday, then I would get to rest over the weekend. But then my mom said better not.
See. Friday’s the day all the Muslims go for prayers. Things don’t get done efficiently on Fridays. Everyone knows that. So I changed it to a Monday.
The nurse inside assisting the doc took me out to the appointment counter. She said I had to let the person key in my surgery date. She left. I stood there and passed the document the doc had given me for the person to key in the date. This guy slouching at the desk took my document indifferently, shook the mouse lazily, and stared at the screen. I waited.
Suddenly he says, "So, you come in 2 weeks after 29th."
"Oh. Alright… Why?"
"To see doctor lah."
"Ok… Why? My surgery is on the 29th. But why do I need to come in 2 weeks later?"
"To see the doctor lah. Cos your surgery is 29th, so you come in 2 weeks later."
God… he still didn’t answer the crucial ‘Why’.
"Is that a follow-up?"
"Follow-up. Is that a follow-up after my surgery?"
"Er.. yeah, yeah. 2 weeks."
"What is wrong?" The assisting nurse came to the counter with a frown.
"Do I need to come in 2 weeks later?"
"You’ll find out later after the surgery."
"Then why must I make an appointment for this 2 weeks later."
"No, you don’t need to."
"But this guy is telling me to do it!"
"Huh?" she looked at the guy, who looked at her blankly. "You only key in the surgery date. Have you done that already?"
Without waiting for his reply, she turned to me. "The doctor will decide whether or not you need to follow up. So you just come on the 29th."
"So I don’t need to make any appointment for 2 weeks later, right?"
"That’s right. So you just come on 29th. Ok. That’s all." And she looks at me, expectantly, as if telling me to toddle off now.
My mom and I could only look at each other and walk off. We still had to go to the pharmacy to get my antibiotics for the infection. Another wait.
By the time everything was done, clinic, appointment, medicine and all, it was past 12 noon. As I drove out of the parking, I could only remember what I learnt about the Malaysian system, which was when I was quite young.
Abbreviations could be very tricky and ironically true. The Malaysian Airlines System is known as MAS.
It also means MANA ADA SYSTEM. "Where Got System?"
Truly, there isn't really a very logical and effective system for many government and official offices here in Malaysia.
It was only after I had driven off the hospital grounds and well on the way that I wondered, if that stupid guy had keyed in the SURGERY date, and NOT the 2-weeks-after date…
I can only hope…
As I’m typing this, I am also wondering, if the infamous Canadian Health System should take a back seat. It is my belief that nothing compares to our system here. Cos there is none.
Thoughts of a sick person who blogs
It’s time like this that you feel blessed, enlightened, eased, soothed, even glad, that you get to read this
at a time when things are terribly unsettled, shaky, wobbly, terrifying and transitional.
There are times when I do think that I am sick, as in sick-in-the-head. I blame this on my zodiac. I think too much. Especially morbid stuff.
When I was in the throes of feverish dreams at night, I swear I dreamt of 3 different sides of me talking to each other; one was a hideous monster-headed thing with green eyes, one was a dark shifty insubstantial shadow of a shadow, and the other was a confused soul in an empty shell of a skeleton trying to make sense of the conversation between these 3. All of these were me. Yet I felt as though there was a 4th personage, like a bystander, who was taking down notes of what each one of these was saying. At the back of my mind, I felt I was a reporter, who kept saying, ‘I must write this down. I must write this down. Get up and get a pen and paper and write down what the green monster said.’ But I knew if I got up then to get a pen, I would lose the conversation and never get to hear the whole thing anyway. So then and there, I was torn between two decisions; stay and listen to the whole conversation, and don’t remember a single word when I wake up, or get up now and write down what little I heard, but don’t get to hear the whole conversation. Needless to say, I decided to stay and listen then, and of course, I don’t remember a single word now.
During these rare convoluted dreams, I always have the presence of mind to wish that I could somehow record down every single thing that I dream of in my dreams. And I always wake up thinking the same thing, ‘I wish I could remember.’
I touch my head sometimes now because I wonder when it will stop hurting. It’s tender from the fever and the headache during my illness. And sometimes I wonder if it’s hurting from thinking up all those weird dreams.
I’m keeping myself still and steady right now – physically. Because I don’t want to jar my poor weak body. And because I want to maintain an outward calm to influence the inside to calm.
As I said, times are terribly terrifying and shaky and transitional at this moment.
I mentioned before that strange things were happening at the office. Well, yesterday, the management finally called for a meeting to explain the new changes and happenings in the company. Which actually was also a meeting to question our loyalty to the company.
I supposed they were also getting worried of more people resigning if they didn’t say something quick about the changes. I mean, from a department of 10 people, it is now down to 4, each resigning one after the other. My 2 designers were the last to resign and everyone knows that my circulations was looking for another job. So before anyone else did, they better speak up quick.
It was a dismal meeting in my opinion. There we were in the conference room, imagine us seated at one end of the oval table; my Chief Operating Officer (COO) at the tip of the round table to exert her position, my editor to her left, and my marketing manager to her left; I sat to right of my COO, my circulations to my right, and the admin clerk to her right: a horse shaped seating that had the Higher Management facing the 3 of us small fries. If I left out my editor, that meant that there was only 3 people left in my department, the magazine. 3 out of the previous 8 (excluding my editor and marketing manager). Dismal. Very dismal. Had they looked after us better, there would still be those 8 people.
We were in the conference room for an hour, during which the COO gave her ra-ra speech about how much potential the magazine had and blah blah blah. Which we 3 sat thru in silence. At the end, when she ran out of words and breath, it was simply put to gauge our loyalty to the company and whether or not we were still going to sail along with this ship, whether we will be resigning or staying put. As simple as that.
A warning, nevertheless.
It was good that someone finally said something. At least we now know what is happening. I’m not very clever with marketing or business development. So while most of the explanation of where and how the magazine was developing went over my head, I can accept that the ship was not sinking. So at the moment, I’m fine with sailing on. Until I see that it’s sinking again, or it’s time for me to leave for Australia anyway.
I’m sad because this department has withered down to only 3 people. They aren’t going to replace those who left. And so it’s going to be so much more quieter. And lonelier. Yes, I’m already feeling lonely now that my designers have left.
On another aspect of my life, I’m upset. I’m upset with this girl who is supposed to have passed me some books necessary for a project. Time and again it is either put off, or she forgot to bring it out of the house, or she was too busy to meet up with me to pass me the books. Worst, there is no cheque for my writers and I to carry on the project. First the client didn’t give her to the money. Fine. Then when the client finally passes it to her, she’s busy or forgot or something or other. Fine. Then when she’s supposed to meet me to pass to me, the client calls her up to say there are some changes, so the original cheque is to be cancelled. So in the end, nothing.
Meanwhile, one of my writers who happens to be a good friend is upset because there is no cheque and no books for him to continue the project. He gets upset with me. But he’s not the only one. And I tell him that I’m trying my best to get the money and the books and to hold his horses. And now he hasn’t spoken to me in weeks. I’m upset because of this girl and this project, our friendship seems damaged, through no fault of mine. No doubt the deadline for the project has been extended, but I hate having things hanging. When there is a job to be done, I want to get it done ASAP. I hate having to wait for the books. I hate having to wait for the money. I hate the fact that I keep pushing her for both. I call, I sms, I email, till I’m afraid that she thinks I’m a nag and pushy, when all I want is to get the job done quick.
Now I’m through pushing and calling. If she wants the work to be done, she will have to push the client for the money quick, and pass the books to me together with it, otherwise no work will be done on all our parts. I will not call my writers till I have something for them. I’m embarrassed that each time they call me, I have nothing for them, and they keep asking me, ‘Jenn, what’s going on? Is the project on? Where is the money? Where are the books? Is something fishy going on? What’s taking so long?’ And I keep saying, ‘Yes, it’s still on. Nothing’s fishy. Just wait for me to get the stuff from this girl who is the liaison with the client. Nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry it’s taking so long. Hang on.’
I’m sick of the whole waiting game.
On another aspect of sick, the lump in my armpit started to hurt last night. I don’t know why it acted up last night. But I’m definitely going for that check up next Monday. I can only visit this clinic on Monday. I’m worried now that it hurts but it has to wait till next week. Again, keeping calm so that I am calm inside and outside. No point jumping about in worry and fear.
Just realised this is a very long blog. A few people have commented to me before about this, that I should sectionalise it and keep it short. Why should I? The blog is, first and foremost, for me, by me. Other bloggers have touched on this before in their own blogs, talking about how it all started and why they started, and whether or not, they worry that others will question their blogs.
Now it’s my turn.
I started this blog as a way to get stuff off my chest. My problems with my mom, my worries with work and career, my personal joys, trials, sufferings and wonderings with the world at large. My rants, my beliefs, my hopes and dreams. Mostly to chronicle myself. One day I will look back and say, ‘How silly was I?’, or ‘How much I have learnt’.
I do not cater to anyone’s whims and fancies. I do what I want to do, what I feel is right. I may be a cat who goes about her way by her self, but I do not harm others on my way. I am not perfect, nor do I think I will be ever. But I do my best to live humbly, honestly, and happily while I’m living on this earth.
Take your antibiotics
I’ve been really ill. After the fever bout I developed asthmatic cough and had breathing difficulty. I keep coughing and coughing cos it’s so itchy inside my throat and chest. It was so bad that I could barely breathe at night and I couldn’t sleep well. So I went to see the doc again, for the third time. He was puzzled that I got this new thing. Nevertheless he prescribed me with lots of medication for the cough, the asthma symptoms, the phlegm, plus antibiotics. I didn’t take the antibiotics for my fever, which I can’t help but wonder if I should have, then I wouldn’t have gone and developed another problematic thing like this. Ah well…
I’m back at work. Just going to take it easy and not stress myself out over silly people in the office. And there are silly people in the office, doing silly things. Like outsourcing graphic designers for the magazine. How silly can that be? I mean, where’s the quality control and the production time control, if we outsource design?
I'm fed up with this organisation. Had enough. Am not going to bang my head against the wall over their inconsistencies and nonsensical organisational manuevouring tactics. I write, I get paid end of the month, that's it. I'm leaving next year for Down Under anyway. They can screw themselves up as much as they want. Doesn't affect me.
Over the weekend I had the time to finish The Da Vinci Code finally. And I also finished Shadowlands. Lovely book, the Shadowlands, about the true story CS Lewis and his true love Joy Davidman. And I cried. Yes, I'm not ashamed to say that I cried profusedly towards the end. I can hardly wait for Narnia
to be released