to all appearance, my injury has healed. the eye is no longer flushed with blood like edward cullen about to make a kill. the cheek area is not swollen and the eyelid is not bruised. the numbness in the cheek and lip is only slightly discernible to the perceptive by the tightness with which i smile. i look normal once again. only a friend who knows me well, with one glance, could tell that i was off. well, he wasn't telepathic or my soul mate. it just wasn't a very good day. the pain came back after i did some light spring cleaning and after too many hours of work behind the desk. it was probably stamped all over my face. eating, laughing and even just trying to carry up my end of the witty conversation was too taxing. i don't think i am quite ready to rejoin the social circle just yet.
i am that happy easy-go-lucky girl who handled my pain and injury with laughter and jokes. i choose to look on the bright side and be thankful for everything that has gone right. but today i realise i am also that girl who is on the edge of breaking down, that who is on the brink of neurosis. i wear the word 'traumatised' very lightly on the corner of my mouth but few take me seriously. i am anxious at the sight of people playing sports, chopping things, throwing stuffs, doing loud big actions around me. i jump when the cat leap to the side of my chair and the dog barks out of the blue. i panic when people say 'here, catch'. i can't think, can't function with noise and i need the quiet and tranquility to be at peace. i cry at the silliest and soppiest movie, but perhaps i have always done that. this morning, i looked at the mirror and saw that one iris was slightly higher than the other. that was the hair on the camel's back that pushed me into the spiraling abyss today. a million thoughts of gloom flew into my mind, unbidden and unwelcomed. i am drained. i have to remember that even though everything looks alright, i still need more time to recover....inside. and i have to take things slow.
one good thing to come out of all these.....i am finally eating slowly. i don't know if i am chewing more, like i should, but i don't gulp food down like a hungry ghost let out in the lunar month of july anymore. i have had that problem since the little ones were toddler (it's a survival technique. eat fast so that you can feed them or eat last) and it has led to so many digestive problem but i have never been able to stop myself. now all of a sudden i am cautiously picking at my food. i am afraid of the soup splashing into my eye, which is akin to striking lottery but nowadays i am striking so many lotteries, just not in the monetary sense.
so, on some days i will fall. i will want to cover up and hide. i will withdraw and cry. but i will stand up again and smile.
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Friday, June 20, 2014
rabbits and the poor will take over the world one day
i am sick of talking about my eye. i am so sick of talking about me. me me me. *rolls eye, yes i can only do it for the good one* beginning to sound like a broken record. so today we are going to talk about why do poor people give birth to more children as compared to the more financially-comfortable .
i read an article in the newspaper today. well, yes, occasionally i tend to do that. read. :p anyway, this poor lady, and i mean financially deficient, although her predicament does seem to be quite wretched, rents out her daughter to other people so that they can use her to beg for money at the nearby mosque. for something like $50. ok, perhaps she can earn more by actually doing the deed with her daughter (i am not familiar with the begging business but if there is a viable business in renting someone's child for $50 to beg, the beggar must be earning more than that. simple economics. demand and supply) but perhaps that is another different study altogether. so, back to this lady. she rents out her daughter to help out in the family income because her husband earns $900 per month and it is insufficient for her family of 7. 7! which means they have 5 children.
ok, i am assuming. it could be 2 grandparents, 2 parents, and 3 children but i hardly think so because 1. the couple is not that old, which goes to reason that the man will not be the sole breadwinner if the grandparents are young enough to help contribute to their income, and 2. the wife may still be able to work for some paltry income if she had only 3 children, as opposed to 5. if one child was to hold on to one limb, there will still be one left who has nothing to grasp on to. the torso perhaps. but little kids can't reach.
which brings me to the question why does the poor generally give birth to so many children? the most popular consensus i am sure is that they are lacking in other sources of entertainment at night. i don't know, you are working your butt off to support your family 24/7, to the point that you find it difficult to even put food on the table, it should reason that you are working yourself to the bones and are sooooo tired, ever so ready to hit dreamland the millisecond before your head even hits the pillow. but noooooo, for some reason you are suddenly full of energy every night and even needs entertainment to tide you over to dawn the next morning where you will have to once again use all your body strength to toil from day to night?? hello, then perhaps you should be pulling another night shift somewhere to bring in more bacon, ya think?
i don't get it. their life is difficult, so their answer to it is to add another mouth to feed? some say that they are not as informed as the city folks. well, this lady that was in the newspaper lives in johor. not kyrgyzstan or djibouti. johor by most standard is a booming city at the moment and information is readily available, especially from the 3rd aunty and 6th por-por next door. their network is so advanced that the person who lives at the end of the street will learn of how his neighbour at the beginning of the street passed gas even before he actually smells it. ewwwwww....grossssss :D well, everybody loves a gross joke. so, really? anyone want to convince me that the poor for some strange reason suffer from severe debilitating
logic impairment when it comes to procreation but otherwise makes fit reasonable judgments day-in day-out?
ok, another reason; because they are not bothered with contraception. let us assume that they at least know that sexual interaction leads to procreation. maybe not the first time, but i am sure the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th time. so because they couldn't be bothered to pull out at the very minute (i'm sorry but this is the best method i could think of if they are not informed and have no money to buy protection, lame as it is but if anybody even bothered to practice that mentality perhaps they are already aware of the problem and trying to do something positive about it. why are the poor so fertile anyway? aren't they not having enough to eat? some people can't even have babies no matter how many million times they time their interaction precisely, using a nasa-issued stop watch even) they will rather have not enough sleep, not enough to eat, not enough to educate and not enough to give medical attention? then in which case, if protection is all that is required to solve the problem of overpopulation in poor countries, why are charities not concentrating 110% on distributing free condoms everywhere? drop them like air bombs. include them with basic immunisation. give them when you distribute food. just super glue the darn thing on. fill the world with it so that you can't walk 5 steps without stepping on a condom, male or female version. put them by the drinking wells. it can always be used as a cup if one doesn't intend to partake in some heavy action later.
someone actually said diversification. as in more offspring higher chances that one will 'strike lottery', so to speak, in the walk that is life. as the cantonese will say, 'kei see sin wui tai ah?' (when only will grow big ah) so, it is not that they are uninformed. not that they are illogical and selfish. they are in fact extremely intelligent far-planning and intuitive. to actually be willing to survive decades of misery and hardship in the off-chance that one of them may become a doctor or a minister, such is the heart of a parent? research has actually shown that it is very difficult for people to break away from their extreme status. not impossible, just more difficult. like the african-american in the ghettos. no doubt some will be lawyers and doctors but because of the lack of a good education opportunity and peer pressure, the chances are very high that many will drop out from school. that said, nothing is more motivating than poverty and i have seen and respect plenty that have manage to turn it around for themselves.
i will actually be more convinced if someone was to tell me that the dad was in his throng of passion too much to care, but seriously after the 3rd child, no sleep, no food and no rest, wouldn't your passion flicker out like a dying candle? how are they sustaining all these energy??! perhaps we should be putting hidden camera in bedrooms and tapping this unknown source of energy. can replace bio and carbon fuel!
i know there are some people who are poor but they are happy with their large family and is contented, especially in the rural area because one can always work with the hands to grow food to supplement their income. as long as they are fed and clothed, they will survive. but if you are renting out your daughter to bring in more dough, perhaps you should have stopped at no. 2?
so, despite all these theories that i normally hear, i am not convinced. they sound flimsy at best. poverty affects rationality? or perhaps poverty gives them extra super-human strength and stamina. why are they making the situation worse for themselves with no thought of tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow? why add suffering that may not be that bad to begin with if one was to exercise moderation and rationality? someone interview someone in gamibia or congo and let me know? however, when using words like irrational and uninformed, be prepared to duck.
i read an article in the newspaper today. well, yes, occasionally i tend to do that. read. :p anyway, this poor lady, and i mean financially deficient, although her predicament does seem to be quite wretched, rents out her daughter to other people so that they can use her to beg for money at the nearby mosque. for something like $50. ok, perhaps she can earn more by actually doing the deed with her daughter (i am not familiar with the begging business but if there is a viable business in renting someone's child for $50 to beg, the beggar must be earning more than that. simple economics. demand and supply) but perhaps that is another different study altogether. so, back to this lady. she rents out her daughter to help out in the family income because her husband earns $900 per month and it is insufficient for her family of 7. 7! which means they have 5 children.
ok, i am assuming. it could be 2 grandparents, 2 parents, and 3 children but i hardly think so because 1. the couple is not that old, which goes to reason that the man will not be the sole breadwinner if the grandparents are young enough to help contribute to their income, and 2. the wife may still be able to work for some paltry income if she had only 3 children, as opposed to 5. if one child was to hold on to one limb, there will still be one left who has nothing to grasp on to. the torso perhaps. but little kids can't reach.
which brings me to the question why does the poor generally give birth to so many children? the most popular consensus i am sure is that they are lacking in other sources of entertainment at night. i don't know, you are working your butt off to support your family 24/7, to the point that you find it difficult to even put food on the table, it should reason that you are working yourself to the bones and are sooooo tired, ever so ready to hit dreamland the millisecond before your head even hits the pillow. but noooooo, for some reason you are suddenly full of energy every night and even needs entertainment to tide you over to dawn the next morning where you will have to once again use all your body strength to toil from day to night?? hello, then perhaps you should be pulling another night shift somewhere to bring in more bacon, ya think?
i don't get it. their life is difficult, so their answer to it is to add another mouth to feed? some say that they are not as informed as the city folks. well, this lady that was in the newspaper lives in johor. not kyrgyzstan or djibouti. johor by most standard is a booming city at the moment and information is readily available, especially from the 3rd aunty and 6th por-por next door. their network is so advanced that the person who lives at the end of the street will learn of how his neighbour at the beginning of the street passed gas even before he actually smells it. ewwwwww....grossssss :D well, everybody loves a gross joke. so, really? anyone want to convince me that the poor for some strange reason suffer from severe debilitating
logic impairment when it comes to procreation but otherwise makes fit reasonable judgments day-in day-out?
ok, another reason; because they are not bothered with contraception. let us assume that they at least know that sexual interaction leads to procreation. maybe not the first time, but i am sure the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th time. so because they couldn't be bothered to pull out at the very minute (i'm sorry but this is the best method i could think of if they are not informed and have no money to buy protection, lame as it is but if anybody even bothered to practice that mentality perhaps they are already aware of the problem and trying to do something positive about it. why are the poor so fertile anyway? aren't they not having enough to eat? some people can't even have babies no matter how many million times they time their interaction precisely, using a nasa-issued stop watch even) they will rather have not enough sleep, not enough to eat, not enough to educate and not enough to give medical attention? then in which case, if protection is all that is required to solve the problem of overpopulation in poor countries, why are charities not concentrating 110% on distributing free condoms everywhere? drop them like air bombs. include them with basic immunisation. give them when you distribute food. just super glue the darn thing on. fill the world with it so that you can't walk 5 steps without stepping on a condom, male or female version. put them by the drinking wells. it can always be used as a cup if one doesn't intend to partake in some heavy action later.
someone actually said diversification. as in more offspring higher chances that one will 'strike lottery', so to speak, in the walk that is life. as the cantonese will say, 'kei see sin wui tai ah?' (when only will grow big ah) so, it is not that they are uninformed. not that they are illogical and selfish. they are in fact extremely intelligent far-planning and intuitive. to actually be willing to survive decades of misery and hardship in the off-chance that one of them may become a doctor or a minister, such is the heart of a parent? research has actually shown that it is very difficult for people to break away from their extreme status. not impossible, just more difficult. like the african-american in the ghettos. no doubt some will be lawyers and doctors but because of the lack of a good education opportunity and peer pressure, the chances are very high that many will drop out from school. that said, nothing is more motivating than poverty and i have seen and respect plenty that have manage to turn it around for themselves.
i will actually be more convinced if someone was to tell me that the dad was in his throng of passion too much to care, but seriously after the 3rd child, no sleep, no food and no rest, wouldn't your passion flicker out like a dying candle? how are they sustaining all these energy??! perhaps we should be putting hidden camera in bedrooms and tapping this unknown source of energy. can replace bio and carbon fuel!
i know there are some people who are poor but they are happy with their large family and is contented, especially in the rural area because one can always work with the hands to grow food to supplement their income. as long as they are fed and clothed, they will survive. but if you are renting out your daughter to bring in more dough, perhaps you should have stopped at no. 2?
so, despite all these theories that i normally hear, i am not convinced. they sound flimsy at best. poverty affects rationality? or perhaps poverty gives them extra super-human strength and stamina. why are they making the situation worse for themselves with no thought of tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow? why add suffering that may not be that bad to begin with if one was to exercise moderation and rationality? someone interview someone in gamibia or congo and let me know? however, when using words like irrational and uninformed, be prepared to duck.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
the list of things i can't do
i can't sneeze with my mouth/nose closed. this is right up there in the list. no. 1 priority. will my eyeball fly out with the pressure? *faint* i don't intend to find out.
i can't jog, run or jump. i think it's because the implant isn't affixed to the site of the fracture, so any large vertical movement may dislodge it. it's like walking on egg shell, until the doc later told me that only a hit in the eye will dislodge it. phew!
i can't get hit in the eye. self explanatory. duh.
i can't wash my face. well, technically, i can't splash water on my face. i can clean it with a towel though, otherwise i'm going to look like santa who came down the chimney. waitaminit, why is his face never sooty and black?
i can't wash my hair. again same rationale as washing my face. i can't have soap run down my face and into my eye. so i engage contortionist mode and hang my head back in the shower when i wash my hair. which can be really tiring because i have long hair. it takes forever. i think i'm also training my neck muscle somewhere along the process. next i can join the olympics and lift weights using my neck.
i can't bend down. hmmmm, this i'm not so sure but i have tried various alternative to bending down and it didn't seem to do any damage. during the initial post-surgery stage, the build-up pressure in the eyeball was pretty high so i guess i shouldn't bend my head down and increase that pressure. i have since learn to adapt and can do wondrous things with my leg and toes. with all these new skills perhaps i should think of enlisting in a circus.
i can't cook or do household chores. ha! sounds like i had to bribe the nurse to say that. *crooning smoke gets in your eyessssssss........*
i can't carry heavy stuff. this is what i find the most frustrating of all. firstly how heavy is heavy? when i feel the strain on my eyeball and the incision maybe. but i don't have a bodyguard mirroring my every movement 24-7. i need to go grocery shopping. i'm forever transporting stuff between my place and my mum's. sigh. i feel so helpless and it drives me insane.
i can't drink in one big gulp. i tried. the pressure builds up in the eyeball and i nearly choke with surprise. why would anybody want to drink in such a hurry anyway?? hallo, do you not know me? i do everything in a hurry. i need 200 hours in a day.
i can't scratch my eye. arggghhhhhh. this is frustrating no. 2. because the incision is healing, it gets itchy. so i scratch the person next to me. hahaha. can u imagine having an itch and not being able to scratch it? one of top torture methods that concentration camps employ i am sure.
i can't carry children. this the doctor specifically reminded me several times. until he found out mine are 15 and 13. chehhhhhh! what?! you don't carry your 15 and 13 year olds? i probably should tell them that.
i can't drive. sigh. another frustrating thing. i can hear the prison door slam and the sound of the key being thrown away. release meeeeee, let me goooooooo. i want my freedom. i need my freedom. simple things that we sometimes take for granted. well, the doctor didn't actually say that i can't but with my double vision, i'm not so sure i won't kill somebody.
i can't play sports. ha. my family thought i will be happy with that knowing that i have a set of lazy bones. but when you are told you can't do something, you want to do it. it's not so much that you actually want to go out and throw some hoops, but you want to have the choice to be able to do so if you feel like it. and i don't actually dislike sports, i just need a lot of cajoling and persuading. i actually don't mind it, if someone can pry me off the couch.
so, patience. one day i am going to be able to do all these again and i will once again take them for granted.
i can't jog, run or jump. i think it's because the implant isn't affixed to the site of the fracture, so any large vertical movement may dislodge it. it's like walking on egg shell, until the doc later told me that only a hit in the eye will dislodge it. phew!
i can't get hit in the eye. self explanatory. duh.
i can't wash my face. well, technically, i can't splash water on my face. i can clean it with a towel though, otherwise i'm going to look like santa who came down the chimney. waitaminit, why is his face never sooty and black?
i can't wash my hair. again same rationale as washing my face. i can't have soap run down my face and into my eye. so i engage contortionist mode and hang my head back in the shower when i wash my hair. which can be really tiring because i have long hair. it takes forever. i think i'm also training my neck muscle somewhere along the process. next i can join the olympics and lift weights using my neck.
i can't bend down. hmmmm, this i'm not so sure but i have tried various alternative to bending down and it didn't seem to do any damage. during the initial post-surgery stage, the build-up pressure in the eyeball was pretty high so i guess i shouldn't bend my head down and increase that pressure. i have since learn to adapt and can do wondrous things with my leg and toes. with all these new skills perhaps i should think of enlisting in a circus.
i can't cook or do household chores. ha! sounds like i had to bribe the nurse to say that. *crooning smoke gets in your eyessssssss........*
i can't carry heavy stuff. this is what i find the most frustrating of all. firstly how heavy is heavy? when i feel the strain on my eyeball and the incision maybe. but i don't have a bodyguard mirroring my every movement 24-7. i need to go grocery shopping. i'm forever transporting stuff between my place and my mum's. sigh. i feel so helpless and it drives me insane.
i can't drink in one big gulp. i tried. the pressure builds up in the eyeball and i nearly choke with surprise. why would anybody want to drink in such a hurry anyway?? hallo, do you not know me? i do everything in a hurry. i need 200 hours in a day.
i can't scratch my eye. arggghhhhhh. this is frustrating no. 2. because the incision is healing, it gets itchy. so i scratch the person next to me. hahaha. can u imagine having an itch and not being able to scratch it? one of top torture methods that concentration camps employ i am sure.
i can't carry children. this the doctor specifically reminded me several times. until he found out mine are 15 and 13. chehhhhhh! what?! you don't carry your 15 and 13 year olds? i probably should tell them that.
i can't drive. sigh. another frustrating thing. i can hear the prison door slam and the sound of the key being thrown away. release meeeeee, let me goooooooo. i want my freedom. i need my freedom. simple things that we sometimes take for granted. well, the doctor didn't actually say that i can't but with my double vision, i'm not so sure i won't kill somebody.
i can't play sports. ha. my family thought i will be happy with that knowing that i have a set of lazy bones. but when you are told you can't do something, you want to do it. it's not so much that you actually want to go out and throw some hoops, but you want to have the choice to be able to do so if you feel like it. and i don't actually dislike sports, i just need a lot of cajoling and persuading. i actually don't mind it, if someone can pry me off the couch.
so, patience. one day i am going to be able to do all these again and i will once again take them for granted.
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
eye am truly blessed
it's monday and i finally found an oculoplastic surgeon across the causeway. four actually, a whole department, all seemingly trained in surgery for orbital trauma. wow! jackpot. ya, remember the way my life goes? no. 1 was on leave the whole week and the earliest appointment available, even for emergencies, is on thursday afternoon. which means surgery could be friday or the next week at the earliest. it has been one week since the injury and the clock is ticking against a complete recovery as time passes. no. 2 was also on leave until the next week and earliest appointment was next monday. no. 3 was.....yes, you guessed it, away and won't be coming in until friday. no. 4 only handles vvip. errrr, i hate to point this out, but how does the oculoplastic department run without any oculoplastic doctor available? what are the chances all of them are not around? considering what happened i believe that sounds just about right. but it's an emergency case, i pleaded. it's the best they can do, they said. they are not interested in listening.
even though the national eye centre was my best bet, they didn't have any doctor available. i was desperate and called around the other hospitals. the most famous one wanted me to call their ophthalmologists one by one to see which of them deal with blow out fracture. you would have thought they know their doctors but apparently they do not have that kind of service nor do they know that information. sounds more like a doctor supermarket to me. you pick what you like and pay; the hospital just provides the venue. after looking through all the biodata, i came up with a big fat turkey egg. zilch. as usual, retina surgery, lasik, plastic surgery, the lucrative business of cosmetic surgery and retina detachment. no one hardly gets hit in the eye. i wonder why. my hubs wonder what happens to all the boxers in the boxing arena. i tell him that they don't get punch in the eye at 60kmh. people duck or turn their faces most of the time, i am guessing. me, i never saw the ball coming.
so i called another equally famous hospital. they asked me to email my ct report and will get back to me with a suitable doctor. bearing in mind that they did not have an oculoplastic department but still i was soooo desperate. that eye-patch with the skull picture is looking more real as time pass. i called a few other numbers, which in the end i didn't know which was for what. none of them had the doctor specialised for the skill. i recalled doctor no. 4 and i was suddenly pissed off that she only handled vvip. did i hear that wrong? i called them again. this time apparently it was the branch of the national eye centre at hospital no. 2. nope, hospital no. 2 didn't think to recommend me to that eye centre annexe that was sitting very prettily in their hospital ground. a very sweet lady answered my call and listened to my pleading. she passed me on to her supervisor who tried to tell me that all their consultants are very experienced and that i should just go down for an appointment. i have no doubt they are but mine is a very special case and only a handful of surgeons are experienced in performing the surgery. i need an oculoplastic surgeon i told her. she passed me on to her manager, who upon hearing the word 'blow out fracture' said that i definitely need an oculoplastic doctor. hell yeah! i felt like shouting hallelujah at that point. break out into a dance step with some dancing on my table. finally someone who understood and spoke the lingo. i could have reached through the phone line and kissed her if i could, but well i'm not that limber. i told her i know but all your oculoplastic surgeons are away. she agreed to call their secretaries to see if any of them can come back just to see me.
this lady is an angel, i tell you. one simple gesture that makes all the difference in a person's life. not even that difficult, not even that demanding but not one single other person bothered to do that little bit extra. not the hostile angry receptionist. not the dense one that started work not long ago. not the indifferent one who looked at the computer screen, saw that no doctors were available and just read what it wrote. not the nice one who tried to help but wasn't trained on where to look. not the bored one who just wanted the clock to strike 5 times and go home. we are all of them sometimes. we do what is expected of us and nothing more. we don't ask more, we don't try more, we don't touch more. simply because it is just easier. i should remember this. i should remember the lesson this lady taught me. i don't want to live my life like the others, not bothering, not trying, not touching, not making a difference.
so, to end the story, the doctor came back to see me after hearing of the nature of my injury. he agreed to perform the surgery the next day. i went through my first GA, my first hospital stay (aside for births), my first serious injury, my first surgery, my first implant and my first overnight stay in the hospital alone. i know this sounds really weird but the hospital bed was the most luxurious and comfortable bed i have ever slept in, even more so than 6 star hotel rooms and palatial residences. it's probably the GA talking. nothing like a little GA to really knock you out.
he has since performed the surgery and everything is on the road to recovery. i have to go back for check-ups. the numbness in the cheek, lip and teeth will fade with time, and the double vision, which seems to have worsen for the moment, will also eventually improve. i just have to avoid being hit in the eye for a few months, or hitting myself in the eye, which i seem to be doing a lot of post-surgery. i guess i am still traumatised on a deeper subconscious level. i am dreaming of insects zeroing in on my eye. also poking my eye in my sleep but as i have to wear a plastic eye guard at night, it's not too bad.
so, i survived all these new firsts. funny thing is i never once felt that i was unlucky to be hit by a ball or lament my lamentable luck. if anything i feel blessed. i am blessed that the ball hit me and not any of my loved ones. my pain i can take. their pain will rip my heart out. i am blessed that i have so many people around me who sincerely cares about me. my son was a little detached, cool and aloof perhaps, but maybe, i am hoping, he just has trouble expressing what is inside his heart. i like to believe he loves his mum just as much. i am blessed that i am able to find the best doctor and afford the medical attention. i am blessed that my eye didn't rupture and i still can see, double-vision or not. i am blessed that everything is behind me now.
even eye have enough of my eye-puns. groannnnnn!
even though the national eye centre was my best bet, they didn't have any doctor available. i was desperate and called around the other hospitals. the most famous one wanted me to call their ophthalmologists one by one to see which of them deal with blow out fracture. you would have thought they know their doctors but apparently they do not have that kind of service nor do they know that information. sounds more like a doctor supermarket to me. you pick what you like and pay; the hospital just provides the venue. after looking through all the biodata, i came up with a big fat turkey egg. zilch. as usual, retina surgery, lasik, plastic surgery, the lucrative business of cosmetic surgery and retina detachment. no one hardly gets hit in the eye. i wonder why. my hubs wonder what happens to all the boxers in the boxing arena. i tell him that they don't get punch in the eye at 60kmh. people duck or turn their faces most of the time, i am guessing. me, i never saw the ball coming.
so i called another equally famous hospital. they asked me to email my ct report and will get back to me with a suitable doctor. bearing in mind that they did not have an oculoplastic department but still i was soooo desperate. that eye-patch with the skull picture is looking more real as time pass. i called a few other numbers, which in the end i didn't know which was for what. none of them had the doctor specialised for the skill. i recalled doctor no. 4 and i was suddenly pissed off that she only handled vvip. did i hear that wrong? i called them again. this time apparently it was the branch of the national eye centre at hospital no. 2. nope, hospital no. 2 didn't think to recommend me to that eye centre annexe that was sitting very prettily in their hospital ground. a very sweet lady answered my call and listened to my pleading. she passed me on to her supervisor who tried to tell me that all their consultants are very experienced and that i should just go down for an appointment. i have no doubt they are but mine is a very special case and only a handful of surgeons are experienced in performing the surgery. i need an oculoplastic surgeon i told her. she passed me on to her manager, who upon hearing the word 'blow out fracture' said that i definitely need an oculoplastic doctor. hell yeah! i felt like shouting hallelujah at that point. break out into a dance step with some dancing on my table. finally someone who understood and spoke the lingo. i could have reached through the phone line and kissed her if i could, but well i'm not that limber. i told her i know but all your oculoplastic surgeons are away. she agreed to call their secretaries to see if any of them can come back just to see me.
this lady is an angel, i tell you. one simple gesture that makes all the difference in a person's life. not even that difficult, not even that demanding but not one single other person bothered to do that little bit extra. not the hostile angry receptionist. not the dense one that started work not long ago. not the indifferent one who looked at the computer screen, saw that no doctors were available and just read what it wrote. not the nice one who tried to help but wasn't trained on where to look. not the bored one who just wanted the clock to strike 5 times and go home. we are all of them sometimes. we do what is expected of us and nothing more. we don't ask more, we don't try more, we don't touch more. simply because it is just easier. i should remember this. i should remember the lesson this lady taught me. i don't want to live my life like the others, not bothering, not trying, not touching, not making a difference.
so, to end the story, the doctor came back to see me after hearing of the nature of my injury. he agreed to perform the surgery the next day. i went through my first GA, my first hospital stay (aside for births), my first serious injury, my first surgery, my first implant and my first overnight stay in the hospital alone. i know this sounds really weird but the hospital bed was the most luxurious and comfortable bed i have ever slept in, even more so than 6 star hotel rooms and palatial residences. it's probably the GA talking. nothing like a little GA to really knock you out.
he has since performed the surgery and everything is on the road to recovery. i have to go back for check-ups. the numbness in the cheek, lip and teeth will fade with time, and the double vision, which seems to have worsen for the moment, will also eventually improve. i just have to avoid being hit in the eye for a few months, or hitting myself in the eye, which i seem to be doing a lot of post-surgery. i guess i am still traumatised on a deeper subconscious level. i am dreaming of insects zeroing in on my eye. also poking my eye in my sleep but as i have to wear a plastic eye guard at night, it's not too bad.
so, i survived all these new firsts. funny thing is i never once felt that i was unlucky to be hit by a ball or lament my lamentable luck. if anything i feel blessed. i am blessed that the ball hit me and not any of my loved ones. my pain i can take. their pain will rip my heart out. i am blessed that i have so many people around me who sincerely cares about me. my son was a little detached, cool and aloof perhaps, but maybe, i am hoping, he just has trouble expressing what is inside his heart. i like to believe he loves his mum just as much. i am blessed that i am able to find the best doctor and afford the medical attention. i am blessed that my eye didn't rupture and i still can see, double-vision or not. i am blessed that everything is behind me now.
even eye have enough of my eye-puns. groannnnnn!
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
how do you like it?
heck, i didn't even know how i like my eggs done. happens apparently to someone who has been the one half of a couple for the longest time. as days pass, you lose a little bit of yourself with every compromise, with every negotiation, with every give and take. sometimes you end up forgetting who you are.
i also didn't know how i like my coffee. americano plain and simple? dripping sweet caramel macchiato? strong and black espresso? creamy soft cafe latte? or did i prefer tea over coffee, for that matter. it took time, countless trial and errors, many visits to cafes and coffee houses to finally found what works for me. life is an endless process of learning, about others, about the things around you as much as about yourself.
i also didn't know how i like my coffee. americano plain and simple? dripping sweet caramel macchiato? strong and black espresso? creamy soft cafe latte? or did i prefer tea over coffee, for that matter. it took time, countless trial and errors, many visits to cafes and coffee houses to finally found what works for me. life is an endless process of learning, about others, about the things around you as much as about yourself.
Saturday, June 07, 2014
eye am what eye am
a family-friend doctor recommended me another ophthalmologist
who seems to be familiar with the procedure, who from his deserted private practice in the run-down part of town seems to be on the verge of retirement. mr doctor however seems
to have no intention whatsoever to carry out the operation. hmmm mmmm, ya ya, ok ok, go back to your ophthalmologist. doctor's decency code not to steal others patients of some kind perhaps? his description of
the procedure sounded like it was from several decades back; using a piece of bone from my thigh somewhere to patch up the fractured area...... a little too barney and
flintstone for me. he didn't offer, i didn't push.
the same doctor friend later
recommended that i look up a facial maxillary surgeon. oral and facial
maxillary deals mainly with injuries and defects in the neck, face, jaw,
tissues of the oral and facial area, starting out as a dentist for most of them
before further specialising in this field. i am not saying that all facial maxillary surgeon do not know how to perform the operation but i will very much prefer someone who is also trained as an eye doctor so that my eye will be given priority and well taken care of. i really hate walking on planks and wearing ruffled shirts. i tried to tell him, i need a good oculoplastic but hard to tell, i think i could have been talking to a wall. he wanted a team of doctors to perform the surgery: an ophthalmologist, a nerve doctor, a facial maxillary surgeon and a GA. all this somewhere across the causeway. a bit crowded in the operating theatre you think? maybe some will be munching on the popcorn whilst others reach for the coke for a bit of refreshment. i want just one. oculoplastic. an eye doctor who specialises in surgery of the orbit. an all in one package. sigh. how do you subtly intimate to another person who is a doctor that his medical opinion is err... misguided and archaic, especially when he is senior to you. well, with hands fidgeting and fretting, you really don't. whilst he is a very good doctor in his own field, it is almost impossible for a doctor to be up-to-date with every procedure that is known to every single part of the body. we are talking millions probably and mine is such a raw odd-case one that even i am having difficulty locating the specialist for it. what he knows is what he had learnt text-book style many eons ago and what i know is what i have thoroughly googled in the last week through countless updated medical websites and research
Friday, June 06, 2014
eye eye matey
so i continue to do more of what i do best, google, and i found that my injury is dealt with by a very specialised field of ophthalmologist. oculoplastic. an ophthalmologist who does surgery for the orbit area, eyelid and surrounding area. there are only a handful of oculoplastic surgeons out there, even less with many years of practical experience in trauma injuries and blow out fracture. simply because that specialty encompasses double eyelids plastic surgery and you can guess which one is the more money-making popular surgery which most of the doctors will prefer to concentrate on. so thus began my search for an oculoplastic surgeon with experience in blow out fracture.
most hospitals do not have an oculoplastic doctor. however, i found a lady doctor in this famous posh eye centre, as opposed to a clinic because they have trucks-full of ophthalmologist in all specialties there but they have only one, 1, sole, single, singular, oculoplastic doctor. two technically, but the other was a really pretty young lady who spend many years in korea and los angeles, the plastic surgery heaven of the world, so i am guessing she is more into the aesthetic part of her field.
this new lady doctor took a look at my eye and scheduled another appointment a week later
for pre-operating follow-up. a week sounded long, but i needed some time for the swelling to go down, and hopefully for the eye to escape its prison (fat hopes! doc said there is no such chance). actually this very delicate timing is a topic of much research and debate because too long and it will lead to fibrosis of the tissues, the orbit floor will have begun to repair across the entrapped muscles as well as scarring. freeing and repositioning of the soft tissue will also become more complicated. too soon and the area will still be swollen. plus there is always the chance that the double vision will correct itself in a week or two. low perhaps but there is always a chance. oh yes, somewhere along the way i forgot to mention that i have double vision. hence why i need the surgery. direct straight vision is a-okay but somewhere north, south, east and west, and all the in betweens i am seeing various degree of doubleness. two lava chocolate cakes, two diamonds, two eye-candy, dream come true? it's most disconcerting, confusing and unnerving. i'm hoping it won't be permanent.
so, i finally found someone who can actually help me in my predicament. hurray, right? life is never that easy. the catch is that the centre is located in one of our busiest and hottest shopping centre. hence there are no overnight stays or round-the-clock nursing care and monitoring as in a normal hospital. perhaps most eye surgeries are simple basic procedures which patients can return to the comfort of their own home for recuperation. in my case however, sigh, i have a heart arrhythmia which i have not really seek professional attention for, which means i have a heart that prefer to beat to kylie minogue rather than the usual boring steady beats. even my heart is full of character. tak boleh tahan. i have seen a cardiologist, for like 5 minutes a few years back, but she couldn't catch the irregular heart beat with a 5 second ecg (or what to my annoyance felt like 5 seconds) and since my heart was of a regular size, she concluded that i have a structurally sound heart. never mind the knock, knock, knocking on heaven's door that i get in my chest every so often. so, since madam cardiologist says live with it and mr google pretty much confirms that, i never had it seriously looked into. that and the acid reflux and gastritis which are pretty much causing the arrhythmia. ha! bet even some cardiologist won't see that link. well, apparently the world is full of people like me. no, not cute adorable ones with a lovely sense of humour even when she is at a risk of going blind but people with harmless heart arrythmia as a result of digestive conditions. see? how the things we don't take care of all comes back to bite us at the same time? that is always the irony of life so pay attention and learn a lesson. take care of all the little things in your life.
with GA (general anaesthesia) suddenly this is something that i have to bring to their attention and post-operation attention seem more imperative somehow. it's probably not likely that people who have already woken up from GA collapse in the middle of the night from a heart that dances to pop music but who knows, i have not googled enough about the heart to be a full-fledged cardiologist yet. so better to be safe. even the ophthalmologist wasn't too sure if it was going to be a problem. it was left to the GA doctor to decide. so, it doesn't look like this eye centre day-care thing will work for me.
another thing was this lady was going to make a incision right under the lower eyelash. and then she will glue it up. haha. glue. elephant or uhu? not the most ideal way to go in considering it will leave a scar. one way or another i seem to be getting closer to my interview as full-fledged pirate. some doctors may go in through the underside of the lower eyelid and hence no scar will be seen but apparently this is not how she intends to do it. scarring is not a big issue in her book. :( er, why not???? it should be right up there with concern no. 1: correcting my vision and concern no. 2: not killing me. how can one be so nonchalant about scarring someone, especially when one has an option. i conclude that she is not experienced enough.
so my adventures continue.......
most hospitals do not have an oculoplastic doctor. however, i found a lady doctor in this famous posh eye centre, as opposed to a clinic because they have trucks-full of ophthalmologist in all specialties there but they have only one, 1, sole, single, singular, oculoplastic doctor. two technically, but the other was a really pretty young lady who spend many years in korea and los angeles, the plastic surgery heaven of the world, so i am guessing she is more into the aesthetic part of her field.
this new lady doctor took a look at my eye and scheduled another appointment a week later
for pre-operating follow-up. a week sounded long, but i needed some time for the swelling to go down, and hopefully for the eye to escape its prison (fat hopes! doc said there is no such chance). actually this very delicate timing is a topic of much research and debate because too long and it will lead to fibrosis of the tissues, the orbit floor will have begun to repair across the entrapped muscles as well as scarring. freeing and repositioning of the soft tissue will also become more complicated. too soon and the area will still be swollen. plus there is always the chance that the double vision will correct itself in a week or two. low perhaps but there is always a chance. oh yes, somewhere along the way i forgot to mention that i have double vision. hence why i need the surgery. direct straight vision is a-okay but somewhere north, south, east and west, and all the in betweens i am seeing various degree of doubleness. two lava chocolate cakes, two diamonds, two eye-candy, dream come true? it's most disconcerting, confusing and unnerving. i'm hoping it won't be permanent.
so, i finally found someone who can actually help me in my predicament. hurray, right? life is never that easy. the catch is that the centre is located in one of our busiest and hottest shopping centre. hence there are no overnight stays or round-the-clock nursing care and monitoring as in a normal hospital. perhaps most eye surgeries are simple basic procedures which patients can return to the comfort of their own home for recuperation. in my case however, sigh, i have a heart arrhythmia which i have not really seek professional attention for, which means i have a heart that prefer to beat to kylie minogue rather than the usual boring steady beats. even my heart is full of character. tak boleh tahan. i have seen a cardiologist, for like 5 minutes a few years back, but she couldn't catch the irregular heart beat with a 5 second ecg (or what to my annoyance felt like 5 seconds) and since my heart was of a regular size, she concluded that i have a structurally sound heart. never mind the knock, knock, knocking on heaven's door that i get in my chest every so often. so, since madam cardiologist says live with it and mr google pretty much confirms that, i never had it seriously looked into. that and the acid reflux and gastritis which are pretty much causing the arrhythmia. ha! bet even some cardiologist won't see that link. well, apparently the world is full of people like me. no, not cute adorable ones with a lovely sense of humour even when she is at a risk of going blind but people with harmless heart arrythmia as a result of digestive conditions. see? how the things we don't take care of all comes back to bite us at the same time? that is always the irony of life so pay attention and learn a lesson. take care of all the little things in your life.
with GA (general anaesthesia) suddenly this is something that i have to bring to their attention and post-operation attention seem more imperative somehow. it's probably not likely that people who have already woken up from GA collapse in the middle of the night from a heart that dances to pop music but who knows, i have not googled enough about the heart to be a full-fledged cardiologist yet. so better to be safe. even the ophthalmologist wasn't too sure if it was going to be a problem. it was left to the GA doctor to decide. so, it doesn't look like this eye centre day-care thing will work for me.
another thing was this lady was going to make a incision right under the lower eyelash. and then she will glue it up. haha. glue. elephant or uhu? not the most ideal way to go in considering it will leave a scar. one way or another i seem to be getting closer to my interview as full-fledged pirate. some doctors may go in through the underside of the lower eyelid and hence no scar will be seen but apparently this is not how she intends to do it. scarring is not a big issue in her book. :( er, why not???? it should be right up there with concern no. 1: correcting my vision and concern no. 2: not killing me. how can one be so nonchalant about scarring someone, especially when one has an option. i conclude that she is not experienced enough.
so my adventures continue.......
Thursday, June 05, 2014
eye have a story
well, it sure has been an eventful week. i have experienced many firsts again, which at 43 i thought i have already 'been there, done that' for most of the major checkpoints of life. that said, given the choice, perhaps i will not choose to experience the few firsts that i did during recent events. 'perhaps' is maybe too feeble a way to put it. i definitely will not choose to go through it. no sane people will. but then in life we seldom have a say in what cards are dealt to us.
it all started with a very innocent game of softball batting practice. you know, the type that continuously shoots the ball from a machine and the player is suppose to hit it. to make a long story short, the softball hit my eye directly at 60kmh. i don't know why they named it softball because it is anything but soft. ouch is right, but perhaps more like *@Y#*)&^#@* followed by &!&^#!#%&%#!&!&#%. the shock, the pain, the trauma that followed still haunt me very clearly when i close my eyes. the proprietor of the batting cage place didn't bother to show his face until i requested for some medical assistance, and neither did any of his bangladesh staff. their lackadaisical attitude towards safety, emergency medical support and operating guidance and instruction for their machines definitely leave something to be desired.
in the end, he did come, with an ice pack in one hand and a smirk on his face. which brings me to a very funny statistic that i compiled post-event. the first reaction that almost 70% of my friends and families that heard of it thereafter was to sue that bugger. omg, sue that guy. or 2nd reaction....omg how are you?! sue that guy! i don't know, i just don't want to go there. i don't want to be all angry, bothered and caught up in a who was wrong argument. what will i even hope to gain from all that? compensation? it's not worth it. an apology? will that turn the world anti-clockwise and turn back time? he's definitely no superman. awareness for other customers of the danger? googling that, there doesn't seem to be any other complain so i believe this was akin to striking lottery. i will have very much preferred the monetary version to this, but as i said earlier, we seldom have a say in what cards are dealt to us. and well, with such a windfall such as the lottery first prize, i have this wacky fear of karma. you win some, you will lose some. in my case, i am losing some.....so there is no way i will lose some more right? ha, my absurd sense of logic.
anyway, back to the injury. it wasn't a simple bruised swollen eye, as much as i will like it to be. i headed straight to the GP in the shopping mall for emergency attention, incase i die from brain haemorrhage or something like that. ok, i am somewhat of a hypochondriac but i think it's a justified fear in this case. :p not so, according to mr GP. if i had one i would have died in his waiting room and won't live through all that queuing for my turn. that's reassuring! waitaminit, then what about all those stories i have heard about people suddenly keeling over the next day because the brain was slowly haemorrhaging? oh well, if he said i won't die from it, i won't die from it. i definitely don't want to go into intensive hypochondriac mode at this point in time and imagine all types of scenarios to freak me out. breatheeeeee.
mr GP gave me some antibiotics, anti-inflammatory slash painkiller, blood circulation meds and to go back to see him if it gets worse. if i survive the night that is....was softly playing at the back of my head but then that was what the people around me have to deal with, not me. death is always easier on the death-or as compared to the death-ee. morbid. oh well. i did survive the night, with ms pain and ms traumatised as my bedside companion. i couldn't even cry because i didn't want the pressure to build up in that eye. sigh. so logical as ever. best night sleep in a long time i believe. konked out more accurately.
the next morning i visited an ophthalmologist. after the ct scan i think she was even more dumb-founded than i was. she had her head in her hands. it was out of her field of expertise. ha. eye doctor. eye injury is too much for her. see the irony. to be fair, what i had was a blow-out fracture. simply put, the orbital floor was fractured and there was a big gap through which the eyeball was squeezed into from the force of the hit, and as such the muscles and tissues surrounding the floor of the eyeball is trapped and unable to be free. so i am seeing double vision. the median wall, which is the one next to my nose, is also fractured and some orbital fats (what! i have fats there too?! sigh) are squeezed there too but that is a smaller fracture and one of my smaller problem. yes, ms google queen have indeed become an expert in this field. with experience comes knowledge. it will be nice if i gain knowledge through the usual route like studying and reading, like people normally do, but nooooo, i have to do things the drastic way.
i'm lucky that the orbital floor fractured i am told. haha. lucky. funny how i don't really feel that but apparently it's one of life's unsolvable mystery that our body is constructed in such an intelligent self-healing, self protecting way. our orbital floor is designed so that should there be trauma or sudden force to the eye, the floor and the medial wall will collapse and the force will be redirected to another direction, as opposed to the rupturing of the eyeball itself. which is not a good thing because that will mean i will have to wear an eye patch and stand in line to be the next captain of a ship with a picture of a skull for a flag and go argggghhhh, ahoy me mateys! i really don't fancy having black rotting teeth.
so, anyway, ms ophthalmologist wasn't experienced in conducting orbital trauma surgery, as most eye doctors normally aren't. lasik, retina detachment or injury, those are the money making things that they get into. it's quite sad how our world is motivated by that abstract concept of worth on flimsy paper that can at any moment be nothing more than pulps of wood but such is the way our world revolve. anyway, she recommended me a plastic surgeon and will get in touch with me as soon as he returns her call. plastic surgeon. my first thought is finally i am going to see a plastic surgeon and i won't even get double eyelids, sharp tall nose, perky breasts or thin thighs to show for it!!!!! wth! that was when i realised she was out of her depth. that and the fact that she never got in touch with me after that. which seems a little callous to me for a doctor, what with the hippocratic oath and all, but i am resolved not to dwell on the negative. i wasn't very sure that a plastic surgeon is the best doctor for my injury as most of them will have mountain of experience with nose reconstruction, boob jobs, big lovely eyes and a little tummy tuck here and there. but the eye? it is a very delicate area with so much nerves, muscles and tissues and one false move may make the difference between the old me and a new not-so-improved cock-eyed near-blind me. onwards to the next doctor then.
i have never had a surgery. i have never had general anaesthesia. i have never had any serious injury. i had never been admitted to a hospital, aside from the two times i gave birth to the little two bumps that was residing in my tummy for nine months. i have never had so many people ask about me or worry about me. it was indeed an eye opening occasion, lame pun intended. in trying times you learn about people; those who love you truly but don't wear their hearts on their sleeves and are there for you when it matters, those that readily have a kind word to offer you but you neither hear nor see from thereafter, those that say the right words at the right time without anything else of themselves to offer and those who jump in with the sweetest words and the slowest mini actions. regardless of everybody's true sincerity, everyone offered a kind word. that should be what i look at and focus on. what we do or not do is sometimes a result of our own predicament, our own situation. perhaps some are too busy, some caught up in their own troubles, some didn't felt in the position to impose, some thought they have done enough. i shouldn't judge. what i choose to take away is the kindest that one can offer.
it all started with a very innocent game of softball batting practice. you know, the type that continuously shoots the ball from a machine and the player is suppose to hit it. to make a long story short, the softball hit my eye directly at 60kmh. i don't know why they named it softball because it is anything but soft. ouch is right, but perhaps more like *@Y#*)&^#@* followed by &!&^#!#%&%#!&!&#%. the shock, the pain, the trauma that followed still haunt me very clearly when i close my eyes. the proprietor of the batting cage place didn't bother to show his face until i requested for some medical assistance, and neither did any of his bangladesh staff. their lackadaisical attitude towards safety, emergency medical support and operating guidance and instruction for their machines definitely leave something to be desired.
in the end, he did come, with an ice pack in one hand and a smirk on his face. which brings me to a very funny statistic that i compiled post-event. the first reaction that almost 70% of my friends and families that heard of it thereafter was to sue that bugger. omg, sue that guy. or 2nd reaction....omg how are you?! sue that guy! i don't know, i just don't want to go there. i don't want to be all angry, bothered and caught up in a who was wrong argument. what will i even hope to gain from all that? compensation? it's not worth it. an apology? will that turn the world anti-clockwise and turn back time? he's definitely no superman. awareness for other customers of the danger? googling that, there doesn't seem to be any other complain so i believe this was akin to striking lottery. i will have very much preferred the monetary version to this, but as i said earlier, we seldom have a say in what cards are dealt to us. and well, with such a windfall such as the lottery first prize, i have this wacky fear of karma. you win some, you will lose some. in my case, i am losing some.....so there is no way i will lose some more right? ha, my absurd sense of logic.
anyway, back to the injury. it wasn't a simple bruised swollen eye, as much as i will like it to be. i headed straight to the GP in the shopping mall for emergency attention, incase i die from brain haemorrhage or something like that. ok, i am somewhat of a hypochondriac but i think it's a justified fear in this case. :p not so, according to mr GP. if i had one i would have died in his waiting room and won't live through all that queuing for my turn. that's reassuring! waitaminit, then what about all those stories i have heard about people suddenly keeling over the next day because the brain was slowly haemorrhaging? oh well, if he said i won't die from it, i won't die from it. i definitely don't want to go into intensive hypochondriac mode at this point in time and imagine all types of scenarios to freak me out. breatheeeeee.
mr GP gave me some antibiotics, anti-inflammatory slash painkiller, blood circulation meds and to go back to see him if it gets worse. if i survive the night that is....was softly playing at the back of my head but then that was what the people around me have to deal with, not me. death is always easier on the death-or as compared to the death-ee. morbid. oh well. i did survive the night, with ms pain and ms traumatised as my bedside companion. i couldn't even cry because i didn't want the pressure to build up in that eye. sigh. so logical as ever. best night sleep in a long time i believe. konked out more accurately.
the next morning i visited an ophthalmologist. after the ct scan i think she was even more dumb-founded than i was. she had her head in her hands. it was out of her field of expertise. ha. eye doctor. eye injury is too much for her. see the irony. to be fair, what i had was a blow-out fracture. simply put, the orbital floor was fractured and there was a big gap through which the eyeball was squeezed into from the force of the hit, and as such the muscles and tissues surrounding the floor of the eyeball is trapped and unable to be free. so i am seeing double vision. the median wall, which is the one next to my nose, is also fractured and some orbital fats (what! i have fats there too?! sigh) are squeezed there too but that is a smaller fracture and one of my smaller problem. yes, ms google queen have indeed become an expert in this field. with experience comes knowledge. it will be nice if i gain knowledge through the usual route like studying and reading, like people normally do, but nooooo, i have to do things the drastic way.
i'm lucky that the orbital floor fractured i am told. haha. lucky. funny how i don't really feel that but apparently it's one of life's unsolvable mystery that our body is constructed in such an intelligent self-healing, self protecting way. our orbital floor is designed so that should there be trauma or sudden force to the eye, the floor and the medial wall will collapse and the force will be redirected to another direction, as opposed to the rupturing of the eyeball itself. which is not a good thing because that will mean i will have to wear an eye patch and stand in line to be the next captain of a ship with a picture of a skull for a flag and go argggghhhh, ahoy me mateys! i really don't fancy having black rotting teeth.
so, anyway, ms ophthalmologist wasn't experienced in conducting orbital trauma surgery, as most eye doctors normally aren't. lasik, retina detachment or injury, those are the money making things that they get into. it's quite sad how our world is motivated by that abstract concept of worth on flimsy paper that can at any moment be nothing more than pulps of wood but such is the way our world revolve. anyway, she recommended me a plastic surgeon and will get in touch with me as soon as he returns her call. plastic surgeon. my first thought is finally i am going to see a plastic surgeon and i won't even get double eyelids, sharp tall nose, perky breasts or thin thighs to show for it!!!!! wth! that was when i realised she was out of her depth. that and the fact that she never got in touch with me after that. which seems a little callous to me for a doctor, what with the hippocratic oath and all, but i am resolved not to dwell on the negative. i wasn't very sure that a plastic surgeon is the best doctor for my injury as most of them will have mountain of experience with nose reconstruction, boob jobs, big lovely eyes and a little tummy tuck here and there. but the eye? it is a very delicate area with so much nerves, muscles and tissues and one false move may make the difference between the old me and a new not-so-improved cock-eyed near-blind me. onwards to the next doctor then.
i have never had a surgery. i have never had general anaesthesia. i have never had any serious injury. i had never been admitted to a hospital, aside from the two times i gave birth to the little two bumps that was residing in my tummy for nine months. i have never had so many people ask about me or worry about me. it was indeed an eye opening occasion, lame pun intended. in trying times you learn about people; those who love you truly but don't wear their hearts on their sleeves and are there for you when it matters, those that readily have a kind word to offer you but you neither hear nor see from thereafter, those that say the right words at the right time without anything else of themselves to offer and those who jump in with the sweetest words and the slowest mini actions. regardless of everybody's true sincerity, everyone offered a kind word. that should be what i look at and focus on. what we do or not do is sometimes a result of our own predicament, our own situation. perhaps some are too busy, some caught up in their own troubles, some didn't felt in the position to impose, some thought they have done enough. i shouldn't judge. what i choose to take away is the kindest that one can offer.
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before you proceed, let me warn visitors that they may find today's posting a little crass, if not weird. hello everybody. are you all w...
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i'm back. yes, that is pretty obvious, otherwise you wouldn't be reading this. i brought back souveniers, dear readers, to compensat...
