Just when I feel shit jaded, God sends rainbows n butterflies. Heehee..

Despite the gloomy skies, which coincidentally is my favourite type of climate, things were surprisingly rosy.

Even the ward was behaving today. Staffing was adequate and despite 3admissions, 1transfusion and a couple of nasty people to deal with, workflow was smooth and patients were extraordinarily loving. So much so, I even had time to draft my entry during break! Heehee..

Dinner at housemen canteen also sprang forth fireworks and rose petals.

The folks from the drinks stall, fruit stall and mixed rice were so friendly. Although I seldom patronize the fruit stall, the owner often talks to me. Today, seeing the drizzle, he offered me his umbrella after some light banter.

The lady at the mixed rice stall also gave me a discount and of course, the kopi uncle only needed to see my face to instictively make my order of iced teh si with a hold on the sugar. The others laughingly commented that he only remembers my order because I am his best friend.

It's like the cheers theme:
'A place where everyone knows yr name.'

But in this case, after almost a decade with my present company, they still call me Ah Mui and think I'm a spring chicken.

So yah, I'm grateful for the nice day I had today!

The Dance of the Droplets

Today, the winds carried the rain; turning it into a fine mist that enveloped the pavement leading to my former campus. Under the crunch of my shoes, the gravel scraped each other, helping the droplets of water congregate into large pools of water. Which in turn, formed rivers that splashed as strangers walked past each other.

Couldn’t they see the puddles on the floor branch out into fine networks that linked every one on the pavement to one another? Each forming a tiny line that connected you to me, and me to you.
Yet never once did anyone of us offer a smile to each other.

I'd probably shoot you another glance only if you were on either ends of the gorgeous or slutty poles.

It’s ironic because what’s left of human interaction is mainly online. What once was a personal letter now is an email. And what I learn from another person’s life is largely via snooping around facebook or the likes of it. People resort to commenting on each other’s post instead of face to face conversation.

I’ve even read people commenting on the comments from the comments that they leave on their own posts. Wow.

Pathetic.

I’m wasn't born into the whole sms and instant messaging generation but undoubtedly, it is here to stay. And try as I might to adjust my bearings to embrace this popular culture, I remain a firm believer of the traditional pen and paper. So if you think I blog a lot, you should see my pile of frenzied chicken scrawls at home.

Against my other mountain of books and trove of cigarettes, it's a miracle I've not been burned to death.

I firmly believe the people that remotely treasure my friendship will bother enough to contact me direct. Either that or continue to just live in limbo of this make-believe virtual world where I only spin tales of what I want to share, where I’ll always be right and comments are always disabled.

Because frankly, I don’t care who the fuck you are here.

Remembering Today

I blog because I have an innate wish to remember the significant milestones that I’ve encountered over time in a bid to etch an imprint to my ever failing memory. It's the ultimate etch-a-sketch.

And today could not have presented a better opportunity.

I will remember today as a day that brought forth a powerful lesson in strength. I will pen it down or rather, unleash the flurry of binary codes that will immortalize today's lesson to slap sense into me should I ever be so stupid again. Due to unforeseen circumstances, I will not be going on the planned trip to Korea. The trip that saw me fervently planning for the past two years.

Yes, I am in shards.

The sudden news came as a cataclysmic shock to me. Never in a hundred years could I even phantom such drama unfolding. I exploded with anger which brought forth a bitter river of tears and disappointment.

I spent 2 years planning and waiting for next month’s trip. Spent hours clawing the net for info. Compiling my blood, sweat and tears to ink a little jotter book riddled with scribbles detailing where to go, what to eat…

But with heat, even glass shards can be recycled into new glass. I’m thankful to God for the opportunity for me to move on and live. Recalling a conversation I shared with one of my patients today while cleaning up her soiled linen:

I’m so old. I just want to die.

Each day passes even if we’re sad, so why don’t just be happy?

She looks into my eyes and cups my hands.

Aunty, though I can’t understand your pain, seeing you like this makes my heart ache.

We look at each other through watered vision.

Both brought up to rather swallow adversity then allow pride to crumble.

So emo. Bleah.

I can’t explain why I’m particularly drawn to this lady. Perhaps it’s because she doesn’t whine when we stick needles into her. Or perhaps she’s magnetically opposed to the call bell and would rather hold her bladder till it leaks then bother the nurse.

Or maybe it’s because deep down, I hope to have just an ounce of her tenacity.

My drama pales in comparison to the struggles she battle.

I just don't get to go some place. She doesn't get to live.

So even while one door closes, or one person doesn’t treat you how you expect to be treated, or whether events take a turn for the worse, life goes on.

Some people you can live with, and some, you should let go.

Inhale.

Remember the good.

Be grateful for the good times.

Wish them well.

Give thanks.

I will have my dream one day.

Freedom only comes when you allow yourself to set the boulders down.

Excess baggage just makes one hunch.

Exhale.

Move on.

It’s time Cheryl. It’s time.

Updates

It’s been a heck of a roller coaster ride for me these past few months. With celebrations revolving around work and personal life, extreme PMS and a slew of super irritants, the dust has yet to settle on the whirlwind of events that have made the months of July and August truly exhausting.

Let’s start with pleasant updates.

July paved the opportunity for wild spending sprees at Stradivarius and good ol’ Pull & Bear after the company dished out our biannual bonuses in late June. With cash in hand, SI & I made deposits for our upcoming trip to Korea! Finally..!! And yes, I’m so excited!!

I also had the chance to meet up with the Girls. Rams was possessed by a French ghoul as evidenced by her thick French accent and an embarrassingly hilarious use of ‘oui’ peppering her sentences. And while Rams & SI discussed prices of chanel bags, the remaining peasants indulged in the plates of tasty handrolls and crisp breaded prawns laid out enticingly before us.

My birthday is also in August! Alongside SI and Deeva, us Leos are another year older and (hopefully) wiser! Ross contributed to my travel fund and together with family, we spent the evening eating cake and prowling the pasar malam nearby which leaves me still fuzzy with warmth.

August also saw the hospital celebrating Nurses’ Day with free food and my new ward topped it off with their own private celebration on the 6th. This ward takes parties seriously.

Really seriously.

We had a line up of acts and performances and catered a feast for the crowd. One performance included a group of (yes, grown) men dancing. Alas, this was no ordinary dance! Gyrating to dance beats, they pranced around ala Chippendales. As the music wore on, their costumes got skimpier until lo and behold, they appeared in midriff tees or bare torsoes! One guy even had wings made from cotton balls. I think that supposed ‘cupid’ ended up looking more like the fat caterpillar who became a butterfly from ‘A bug’s life’.

My gawd..! How my eyes burn. Should I witness the horror of his pink nipples again, I swear I will gorge my eyeballs out.

But yes, that slapstick dance brought many a wolf whistles and cat calls in good fun.

On a more somber note, the ward has been rife with irritants, making my temper rise to unparalleled heights. On good days, I’m PR queen, cracking jokes and chatting with almost everyone. On bad days, I’ve got my face quietly buried between the case sheets as I furiously try to finish routine work while juggling changes and follow ups. On even worse days, I’m ready to snap at anyone. I try not to yell though. But I can assure you that just my face is enough to portray my contempt at the world amidst my curses and spits.

Talking to Sharon Lee helps ease the inner turmoil within as she dissects my behavior to identify the root cause. Often, her statements are blunt and merciless, yet enlightening. But being able to speak openly about how I feel is helping me to get through this patch. And for this, I’m grateful that after more then half our lives together and oceans apart, we’re still in sync with each other!