For Feb 17 2010, on 17 Feb 2010

Room 12 Bed 4 reporting on time this year! Yay! =)

I'm not doing anything special to commemorate this day except to refresh my memories to keep me closer to ground.

If there's anything chronologically iconic that I did today, it'd be me sending in my application exactly 7 years later. Another milestone in life.

That is if anything materialises out of my application at all. I'm hoping it will.

Also, I simply hope my day ahead will be a pleasant one =)

For Feb 17, 2010

Didn't want to be late again this year, so I decided to enter a post earlier.

2 days short of 7 years.

Yes, I count it every year. Just to remind myself how far I've come and how I should cherish everything and everyone around me.

Bestie said my post last year ended on a down note. Well, it wasn't suppose to. It's suppose to be a memorial, an anniversary of sorts.

I just want to mark this date, for various reasons.

Went back to Ward 76 Room 12 and tried to take a peek at who's on Bed 4 months ago. Everything seemed familiarly distant.

Walked through the route I'd probably have taken from bed to operating theatre and back. And I tried to recall what was on my mind and how I felt back then. But my memories were somehow blurred and emotions not as strong.

Maybe it's the sedatives. Whatever.

I always regret not being able to note down the nitty gritties that filled the days back then.

I wasn't a Spongebob fan. There wasn't even cable TV at home.

Friends who visited were the same old few, cos' those were the few who knew what went on.

Books... I read but not too much. To Kill a Mockingbird... Crucible... Rice without Rain... and some religious publications visitors left for me.

Seriously, I'm always amazed how I slept through days of doing nothing. I'm good.

I remember someone asking me if I had any revelation after undergoing such a major procedure.

And I remember telling her that didn't really happen to me. I didn't think people are bound to change for the better after going through major surgeries.

Personality is something so deeply entrenched in you. Character shift may occur but I always think it can only happen to a certain extend.

It's isn't easy to change someone, for good. Definitely not easy.

Like I said, I've definitely changed in some ways but a large part of me remains the same.

If I could start my life all over again , of course I'd want to be a healthy kid. Anyone would, isn't it? It's just human nature.

But if nothing can be changed, I wouldn't mind going through what I went through 7 years back. The learning experience I took away enriched myself and made me much stronger after all.

I'm glad I went through it all with the right mentality. =)

For Feb 17, 2009

Feb 17, 2003. 

That was 6 years and 3 days ago. This year, I'm late again.

My name didn't matter. I was Room 12 Bed 4. 

I always make it a point to remember this day. Because that's when I learnt about life. That's when I experienced how it was like to live. And appreciate total physical freedom. 

My buddy back in college had introduced the weblog (better known as a blog now) to me back then but I hadn't the foresight to blog about my experience back then. Plus, I had to pay $1 per hour to go online in the hospital. 

Oftentimes, when I look back and wonder how far I've come, I end up with a huge heap if "what ifs". 

What if...

I never agreed to go under the knife?

I simply become history (you know.. expire and get a tag in the morgue)?

I never woke up?

all my friends knew I was gonna be cut up and might leave them?

my surgeon didn't become my surgeon (and somebody else did)?

there wasn't a SARs outbreak at that moment?

the nurses hated me and we never befriended each other?

(certain people--fill in the names) came along and visited me?

my parents couldn't afford the surgery?

the surgical scar turned out unsightly?

life was like an RPG game (e.g. Final Fantasy), where you can save at a particular checkpoint and come back to it when you die? So every segment in between the checkpoints will be a perfect one. 

... ...

Every year, on Feb 16, I'd drown myself with tons and tons of such question... till I drift to sleep and wake up the next day.

Sometimes, of course, tears do well up. I can't figure out if it's self pity or whether I love myself too much. 

Maybe I'm a perfectionist who can tolerate no imperfection. Maybe I'm born a thinker. Maybe I just isn't tired enough to hit the pillow and shut down. 

Anyhow. Whatever. 

The memory plays tricks on us sometimes. I forgot certain things that happened back then already. 

Some call this selective memory loss. Sometimes I prefer to call it getting on with life. 

I love details. Especially details like these. But they hold me back. So I guess I've subconsciously chosen to leave them behind, so I move on with a lighter, cheerier heart. 

Indeed. 

Mum asks if I've really been brave. Or was that simply a facade. 

I give the politically correct answer. Largely because the politically incorrect answer doesn't hold much truth. 

I've learnt to rationalise things from the medical and physiological point of view, I figured. 

Detach all negative feelings associated with falling ill, stay cheerful and get on with life. 

It helps me focus better on getting well. It's been working well so far. 

Honestly, I never thought I'd make it this far. I thought I'd throw in the towel. 

I wouldn't mind actually. Though my parents' hearts would shatter if I ever said this. 

Back then, I thought since every sucked right now, I might as well seek an exit and opt for a fresh start. 

On hindsight, that'd be silly. 

If I did give up, I definitely will never meet certain people. Our paths will never cross and we'll simply be individual, separate entities. 

Life creates wonders of its own. It leaves me with alot of "what ifs" but somehow, I still love it. 

Goodbye, for a while

Hmm... it's been a while. Just leaving some footprints here because I know I'll be gone for really long. And... you know, just to mark out the date.

Somehow, I just love remembering things like this. It always seems like a new beginning...

You know, you go in conscious and you gradually become oblivious to your surroundings... then you slip into unconsciousness and when you finally open your eyes, something has changed.

I don't know how to put it but it kinda feels... surreal? Maybe a little miraculous too.
I remember someone once told me, everything has risks. And this is comparable with jay-walking. You either reach the other end safe and sound or you get run over. Perhaps you just trip and fall and get really bad abrasions.

Whatever. A risk's a risk.
What will be will be.

It's gonna be another bak kwa-less Lunar New Year for me. Been trying to get my hands on foods which I can have after tomorrow but didn't manage to get them all.

I'm still missing (other than bak kwa)...:

• salmon sashimi
• cereal prawns
• oyster omelete
• fried chicken
• chocolates
• ice cream
• junk food
• nasi bryani
• seasoned scallop wings
• scallops
• soft shell crabs
• love letters...

Bascially, everything will turn into a delicacy for me after tomorrow. Darn. I hate this feeling.

To anyone who might even bother, no apples or soft toys please.
I'll be back soon, hopefully. It's just the usual check-in, I hope. =)

Happy Two Dozen

Maybe it's the nature of my job. Maybe it's me. I tend to be less and less proactive lately. Be it staying in touch with friends or finding a topic to kick start a proper, constructive conversation with people around me.

Somehow, I just want to be silent. I hope to stay unnoticed. 

I still care for everyone around me. And it's not as if I want to withdraw from my social circle. 

It's just... the need to be alone. 

Sometimes I find great difficulty in communicating with friends and family. 

Sometimes I want to maximise work efficiency and minimise the amount of time spent. Sometimes I just don't feel good, for unknown reasons. 

Sometimes I just want to get in touch with my inner self.

Sometimes I'm just tired. 

Maybe that's why oftentimes I prefer to shut myself from the rest of the world. 

And I get mistaken for being anti-social or not keen enough to maintain relationships because I don't treasure them enough.  

Maybe I just don't know how to express myself well enough. Don't know how to tell those around me how much I love them. 

Or simply, I don't understand myself well enough to bring out the socially expected and right reactions. 

Whatever. I'm tired. Really.

Ironically, it's my special day and yet, yes. I say, I'm tired. 

I know it sounds totally wrong to say this today. 

But oh well... Whatever it is, I'm not giving up.

Oh yes, and thanks to those who remembered and sent their well wishes through smses, phone calls, wall-to-wall and of course, face to face.