One Tooth Less

After 15 years, i finally got rid of my other 'wisdom' tooth yesterday...

Why the delay?

My first experience was just too freaking painful, excruciating, to be precise.

15 years ago...

1. The dentist jabbed my gum to numb the area.


2. Then, he cut the gum near my tooth (i could still hear the knife scrapping against my jaw bone, no pain at all... just the sound)


3. Next, he drilled my tooth (i could still hear the sound of drilling) and nurse used the suction tube to suck out all the tooth fragments, blood and saliva (i could still hear the suction sound)


4. He stopped, checked, poked, and drilled again.


5. Then, he tried to extract what's left of my tooth, i think the roots, (i could still feel the pressure applied) but failed.


6. He drilled again, stopped.


7. He proceeded to extract again... and out popped the first root, then the second, then the third.


8. Next, he sewed up the gaping, bleeding hole.


9. Lastly, he popped in a gauze on the wound... and voila! i was done in 30 minutes!

i took the green T.U.T. bus, stopped at my bus stop and walked 15 minutes under the blazing sun to reach home. i remember reaching home at 3.35 p.m., washed up, changed, sat down...

And then the pain came, dull throbbing pain, gradually increasing in intensity.

It was intense and the ever-ready me took out one packet of freezing cold ice and applied it on my jaw. And my jaw/face was in pain too, caused by the freezing ice... so removed the ice from my super numb face, wait until the numbness ebb away and the pain returned and put on the ice pack again. And that was basically what i did the whole evening.

Paracetamol / Panadol could not do the trick. It was hard enough to pop in the pill and swallow it with my head tilted to one side.

Could not even swallow H2O properly... could only open my mouth no wider than one 1 1/2 finger... could not eat dinner (or porridge, to be precise)... could not sleep properly that night (thank God it was Friday)... could not brush the rest of my teeth... could smell my pig breath... could taste blood the whole night...

On the following Monday, i went to school with a visible bruise on my jaw, cleverly hidden by my hair... and i realized it was photo-taking session T__T

(Back then i was too vain and uneducated to know that the small class photo on the printed black-and-white pages of school magazine is not capable of highlighting such miniscule bruise.)

After the wound had healed, it took me nearly one year before i was able to open my mouth to its maximum capacity, at its widest... errr... to gobble down food? to laugh? to sing? to shout? to yawn? Heck! Even yawning was painful.

The pain's gone now but the memory remains... (to be continued)

TakSiokLangsung O.O

Sucker!!

That's me, alright... T__T

i'm a sucker, sucked in, totally, being sucked into Facebook!

Yeah, blame it on Facebook when my hands itch and my fingers long to tap away on the keyboard...

• adding application,
• playing Scrabulous, Hangman,
• searching for friends,
• checking out friends' profile,
• checking out friends' friends' profiles,
• viewing photos,
• reading posts,
• sending oh-so-beautiful yet inedible virtual chocolates, cookies, ice creams, food, and undrinkable coffee and wine...

So many things, too much, so captivating, so addictive, so irressistible...

to puuuuuull myself awaaaaaaaaay

from switching on the computer,

from scanning the screen,

from clicking away...

from Facebook! XD

Gotta get a hang of myself.

Self-control, moderation...

Yup, have to do that or else my work suffers...

Gotta finish up my work!

Yes!

Hmm, before i get started... let me just check my Facebook for awhile.

Just awhile, i promise...

Memang SiokSendiri @__@

Totally

My dad was stricken with stroke last Dec. It has been 3 months since and he is on his slow journey to recovery. i rejoice tremendously at every little steps that he had taken towards recovery, as he regains more of his physical strength each day.

However, even as i want him to heal quickly and am happy of his recovery thus far, there were some close calls and they really shook me up. One minute he was alright and then suddenly, he plummets. It was like a roller-coaster ride and i'm quite uncertain of how to take care of him. i could not anticipate what's coming next, not that i want bad things to happen.

It was during these times that i had to TOTALLY look up to God and TOTALLY trust Him to take care of my dad. My family and i have done the best that we could, humanly, financially, physically, emotionally possible, to take care of him, to nurture him back to health. Yes, humanly possible. Yet, when the unexpected happens, i could only call upon God's name and cry for His mercy and grace.

Last Tuesday, we brought back a wheelchair for dad. We were excited that we could finally place dad on a chair and let him join us at the living room. Usually, we'd push him (on his bed) to the living area. He'd lie there watching TV, or read the newspaper or just doze off.

So that night we made way for his chair, wheeled him in, covered his body with sarong, trying to make him as comfy as possible. He liked it. He watched the TV, talked to us, asked us to wheel him to the balcony to view the neighbourhood.

Then he started yawning and dozing off a few times. He seemed like he had dozed off when he'd wake up and yawn. Then i heard his wheezing and when i approached him, he was actually drooling and he was perspiring profusely. When i lifted his head, he was drifting into unconciousness and his face was a deathly shade of pale. He was cold, really cold and he seemed to be gagging.

The next few moments was a blur. My brother and a friend were there and we called him, shook him. Dad was vomitting and gagging and had difficulty breathing. And for ONE moment, i thought he was gone because he went limp in my arms and there was no breathing.

My heart was gripped with fear - a fear that i've never experienced before. i was crying for him, calling dad and calling God. Calling God to save my dad. I didn't even know what i was praying (it is all a blur to me now) but i remembered calling God, DEMANDING that He heal dad and restore him.

It seemed like forever; it seemed like a fleeting moment. My dad awakened and said that he was alright in English! We normally speak in Hakka. And at that moment i knew dad was alright. i knew God answered my cry for help.

That night i couldn't sleep. i didn't know why dad went unconscious and i kept watch over him, measuring his BP every 2 hours. He turned out okay.

But images from that night are still fresh on my mind. At one point, i remember my heart went weak with fear, with overwhelming sadness, with brokenness, when i thought he was leaving us.

i do not know how long my dad is going to be with us. i know that he, like everyone else, will meet his Maker one day. But there's one thing that i fervently pray for - if and when he leaves, he will go peacefully. That is my prayer. i do not want him to suffer, to struggle like that fateful Tuesday night.

There are so many things that are beyond my control. So many things that i cannot see. And all i could do is just to pray, to pray, to pray... and let God take care of them.

Faithfully,

God's child '.'

Just a Child

i could hear a child babling away, whining, complaining, seeking attention...

He wakes up at 6, lies on his bed quietly until it is time for his feed. He eats his cereal and drinks his milk. Satisfied, he hums to himself. He is good for awhile before he decides to cry out for someone, for anyone. He is agitated. He is uncomfortable.

No, he does not want to be carried.

He just wants someone to scratch his back... it is itchy. When he sees someone approaching, he will quickly turn to his side, as best as his clumsy movements could allow him to, and wait for that soothing touch.

"Ah, that is good. To the centre... uhm, that's it. Now, scratch the left side. No, no, not there, more to the left," he ordered.

"Okay? Do you still feel itchy? Can i stop now?" i asked.

"No, not okay. It's okay only when i say it's okay. Not okay yet. Now to the right. Yes. There. I want the circle. Do the circle," he demanded.

"Is that okay? Have you had enough? Can i stop now?" i asked, after some time.

"Mmmm... okay, okay. No more itch. Okay, okay. Thank you very much," he said, grateful.

He slowly turns to his back and lies comfortably in his bed.

He is happy. He is comfortable. He is satisfied.

He hums to himself again, his lullaby...

And his humming slowly fades...

He is sound asleep, again.

My dad is asleep...

My heart cries.

Mondays

i don't know what's it with me and Monday.

It's the ONE day that i truly do not look forward to. i used to dread Mondays when i was a student. After two days of rest, i was so not happy at the prospect of wearing uniform, seeing my teachers and getting homework (Students, you must do your homework coz it's good for your brain).

Thought i had outgrew it all but i still dread Monday now... back to work, waking up early, beating the traffic (well, if i wake up much earlier than normal, i wouldn't have this prob), etc...

The dread starts early Sunday morning. When i wake up, all rise and shine, i'd think to myself, "It's Sunday! Yeah! ^__^ Tomorrow's Monday --___-- " Then as the day progresses, i'd get gloomier and lazier. Then by evening, i'd have this indescribable feeling... er i really don't how to describe it. It's a mixture of gloom, depression, sadness, laziness and all the negative feelings... (Hope it's not a sign of me going cuckoo.) i'm having it now coz it's a Sunday night.

As a responsible adult, as all adults should be, i should be mentally preparing myself for Monday, for work, for deadlines... but i could not. i am running away from work mentally... is there such a thing?

And the worst thing is that i could not sleep properly on a Sunday night. No matter what time i go to bed, i'd find myself tossing and turning, mind twirling, heart beating, telling myself to go to sleep... and nothing happens. Eventually i would fall asleep and tadaa... it's morning! Time to get up and go to work... and i look like... erm i just don't look good and neither is my mood.

When it's really bad, i'd find myself dozing off when i'm seated at my place in the staffroom. Great! What an embarrassment to the teaching profession. Let not ANY of my students catch me doing this... or have they already? But most of the time i'd look like as if i'm having a bad headache and therefore, the drowsiness... just to look good. Well, to my credit i have yet to fall asleep while teaching in class... Should that day arrive, i'd retire.

So now i don't go to sleep early on a Sunday night. i'm just wasting my time tossing and turning in bed. Might as well do something more 'productive' like... blogging? Maybe as i blog, i'd discover the answer to this issue i have with Monday; the solution that has been eluding me all these while.

But what puzzles me is that i'm fine with Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday and there's definitely no problem with Saturday and Sunday. Anybody out there has a solution? Do let me know ASAP.

It's 11:30 p.m. on a Sunday night and i should be sleeping. But i'm still pretty much awake. Gotta find something else to do... just being productive...

Cheers! --___--