A Trip to the Clinic

I have been having a mild cough and, at first rhinorrhea, now a nasal congestion since Friday. I didn't want to depend too much on medication. But, because of headaches and dizziness and blocked nose, I self-medicated.

I didn't have the slightest intention to go the doctor. However, last night, after taking a nap, I checked my temperature because I felt hot. It was 38.1. I got scared. I called my mom and she advised me to go and see a doctor. It was already 10pm. I have a medical record in the clinic near our block, so I checked the card the clinic gave me. They were open up to 10pm only.

It is amazing what perseverance can do. I decided to call the clinic first to verify their operating hours. It was a long day for them, they had a lot of patients yesterday, and yes, they were up to 10pm only. Extension was subject to approval by the good doctor. Though the nurse was very accommodating, she discouraged me to see him as they were already closing. I insisted. I asked her if a 38.1 temperature was safe to be procrastinated, I would not mind delaying it. I could sense hesitation in her voice upon hearing my situation. I told her I could run from my house to the clinic. I was at the front door opening the gate, without changing clothes nor combing my hair, when she called me again. I was told to see him the next day. Still I insisted.

The medical profession is a philanthropy. The doctor had quite a number of patients. I know he's tired. But the greatest fraction of being in this benevolent field is their big humanitarian heart. I reached the clinic some minutes after ten. I was attended with great care. Though the nurse told me the doctor was not in a good mood anymore, I didn't perceive it. He was still listening patiently, doing his normal routines, thinking and prescribing. He didn't show any sign of exasperation, and I admire him for that.

After I was given my medication and was ready to leave, we heard someone outside the clinic begging for help. The lady's daughter, maybe about two years old, was having high fever. After consulting with the doctor, the nurse let them in. When God showered all the virtues in this sinful world, doctors might have captured most of them, if not all. I guess it is no longer the logical side that dictates them what to do. They are ruled by their hearts. I left the clinic, psyched up to eat dinner again and take the medicine, but the night was still young for the doctor. But I don't think it mattered to him. When one is governed by their humanity, everything else is secondary.

Gift of life

Everything is fast paced nowadays. The information superhighway is trafficked with heavy data and are being distributed in an instant. The moment you stop to look around, someone will overtake your spot. Everyone's on the go. Things come and go in a blink of an eye. Everything is swift. Even life is.

A couple of decades ago, the life expectancy was 70 years. I doubt if this is still applicable to our current state. I have been hearing news about people stricken with terminal illnesses lately, cancer in particular. It used to be the malady only of the rich. Now, people, all across races, all walks of life, are getting it. And the patients are getting younger and younger. Life is becoming shorter and shorter.

They say the world will end in fire and ice. With the way things are going, this statement is becoming a fallacy. While human beings are trying to conquer the farthest planet, cancer is zooming in on the tiniest cell inside, creating havoc. They said cancer cells are inside each one of us. It is like a time bomb ticking, waiting for the right time. We are at its mercy after all.

So it is like a locked fire exit. A dead end. A one way street. Everyone is walking towards the end, and there is no U-turn. But there is still one thing we can do. One thing not even the deadliest affliction can take from us. Enjoying the journey.

When all else seems dim, and we are like a blind man groping, our spirit soars. We live by the moment, we laugh some more, we love some more, we believe some more. Our bodies may be disappointing us. It will falter. It's not perfect. But our spirit will soar. We recall the happiest moments, and despite the pain, we smile. We arrived in the world crying, but we will depart grinning. It is one of the greatest gifts God gave us, our freedom to choose. And we choose to look at the brighter side.

Life is short. And life is worth living.

FIFA on sundae

Second day of the second semester of Sunday School. There was no lesson proper today. Good for me, because I was sick these past few days. I would not have been able to materialize them properly had we had a lesson proper.

Today is Bible Sunday. We were supposed to have some quiz which I confidently thought was one of the activities in the activity book. Later did I find out, when I browsed through my emails again after class, that it was supposed to be a separate quiz our dear head distributed through email some weeks ago. Ooopps.

Anyway, after looking for some things to do in the activity book, letting the kids answer, and wrapping up that boring part of the day, we finally got to bookmark making. We handed out the pieces of paper our dear head prepared for them to work on. And guess what the most popular theme was.

The World Cup is such a big success here in the country. While Philippines is not bothered by who won and who lost, and which country Paul the psychic octopus predicts to take home the bacon, Singapore is entirely the opposite. World Cup is the talk of the town, even of the kids in Sunday School.

So we asked them to make bookmarks. Simple rules: Use their creativity, and should be biblical. I didn't know World Cup or Holland had been in the Bible all along, because a number of the boys' drawings are FIFA inspired. One kid wrote, "Holland FTW (for the win)", followed by a Biblical passage, "I will bring them endless disasters and use all my arrows against them." Beware, Spain. You have been warned.

I continued to sneak a look at their work of art. Guess what, or who, should I say, one kid drew. Yes, Paul the psychic octopus!

I told him, in between my chuckle, if he could tell me which part of the Bible could he find Paul the octopus, I would accept his masterpiece. "I don't know", he said, tittering. He erased it. Hehe.

His second attempt was more comical. If you are aware of how Jesus looks like in the 3 o'clock prayer, where His hands with open palms are extended and He is wearing a white robe, imagine that translated by a twelve year-old kid. It looked like a ghost to me. So I asked if it was a ghost. He laughed and erased it again. Hahaha!

Third attempt. And this time, maybe I gave him an idea after the second drawing, he drew a ghost. Like the ghosts in the pacman game. With the word Boo! Very funny.

When he saw his classmate drew Jesus on the cross with the two thieves on each side, he was motivated. He drew the same thing, conveying it from his own memory. It was nice. The traces of Paul and the ghosts were still conspicuous underneath it, but it still is nice.

Speaking of the other kid who drew Jesus with the two thieves. We gave them about 10-15 minutes to think, draw, and create something on the rectangular cardboards. And I guess that amount of time is all it takes to design and produce such magnificence. His drawing was very good. He even had time to retrace it in black ink, because initially it was in pencil. In fifteen minutes. In fifteen fleeting minutes. While most of the kids were still struggling, he was polishing his. These kids never cease to amaze me.

There was one question we popped today. "What is the greatest commandment?". The kid who drew Paul and the ghosts replied, "Eat McDonalds everyday!". Hahaha! How can you not love them despite their importunities, tell me? =)

I'm okay

Sometimes, all it takes is one teeny question, dabbed with a tinge of concern, to brighten someone's dejected spirit. My day started okay, it got screwed up in the middle, and it has gotten worst by the end of the day.

But there was a rainbow in the midst of it all.

After I was scolded for something I was not sure I did wrong, I went back to my cubicle with a heavy heart. I started serving again. The queue was long. My face was gloomy. I wasn't beaming at all.

And then it was his turn.

I read somewhere that a true friend is someone who asks how you are and waits for your answer. This client was not a friend. Neither was he a regular. I wasn't sure if it was apparent on my expression that I was affronted, but the first question he asked me upon reaching my counter was, "How are you?". And the moving part was, he waited for my answer.

The melancholy feeling vanished.

We don't need monumental acts to change the world. One simple gesture, a trivial statement, or a millisecond smile is enough. We might have done a good deed without even knowing it. We could have contributed to the renewal of the world without realizing it. My trouble continued until the end of the day, but it was okay. I am okay. The world is still a delightful place.

Beautiful Sunday!

1am: I reached home from Sempang Bedok, where a whirlwind of events happened I don't think I am sober from it.

7am: Woke up from a deep sleep after fifteen minutes of snoozes to go to the Church. Today is the first day of Sunday School, and boy, it was all disaster and laughter!

1130am: Julie and Julia. If you hated Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada,

you'll adore her as Julia in this inspiring movie about finding oneself, excelling in it, and changing the world at the same time.

3pm: Lunch. Let me tell you in detail this version of lunch. It merely consisted of apples and ham courtesy of my friend, Wheng, bread from QBread, and Milo with its Australian recipe. No wonder I'm still famished. I'm sure it didn't even reach my digestive system.

My friend invited me to go to Orchard this afternoon, and I said yes. But after coming out of the loo, where most of my realizations transpire, I had to take it back. I am fickle-minded, I know. I feel guilty. But I still have three rented movies to finish that needed returning tomorrow. If I was asked to choose between movies and shopping, on a life and death scale, I'll go for the former. I prefer colorful imagination over tangible fashion that is transitory. Plus, I'm broke. :D

Fringe vs Bangs

I rebonded my hair last Tuesday. It was the second time I did it. This time, though, it is rebond in the truest sense of the word.

I carefully instructed the hairstylist to iron my hair inward, so it wouldn't look too straight. In fairness to him, he gave his best. And in fairness to my hair, it gave its best too. To defy it. Two days and two washing later, it became so stiffly linear it looks like a wig. Stubborn. Like me.

The rebond is not the highlight of the night. I had been pondering for an infinity if I should cut fringe. I used to have bangs when I was six years old, back in the golden days when I still had silky, shiny, inwardly straight hair. It was during the days of milk and honey when my hair had not yet realized it's meant to be curly, like my mom's and dad's. And I remembered it looked cute on me.

So, after some surveys and reckoning, I did it.

I feel like the story The Emperor's New Clothes. Almost everyone is telling me it looks nice on me, and I'm wearing it grandly. What perturbs me is that I may not have clothes at all and never realizing it. However, there will always be two sides in every story. Two faces in every coin. What's done is done, not that I am regretful, but I welcome change. This is the first time I have fringe after a very long time - one of the many firsts I've done this year. I am choosing to look at the brighter side of it.

Anyway, one of my colleagues said in two weeks' time the rebond will soften, and as the hairstylist said it, it's going to look natural. I believe them. I believe them with every beat of my heart and every strand of my hair. Patience is a virtue. And it is also applicable to stubbornly straight rebonded hair, yes.

Cycling Part 4

This is my version of movie installments. It's my fourth attempt to master cycling!

You would think by now I should be over having the contusions part. I'm not. My first one hour was just about dragging the rented bicycle, with my left foot on the pedal and my right on the road. I bet tomorrow all the bruises will be visible on my right leg because of this.

They said one cannot forget, once it's acquired, the skill of balancing. My last attempt two months ago, though I fell and I fell really hard, I went places. I pedaled the bike smoothly. I guess it's the trauma of the fall that made me very cautious today. For the first one hour, at least.

If there's one thing I learned, it's to look beyond. The secret to balancing the bicycle is not to look at the handle and the front tire, but to gaze beyond it. Focus on the road. Feel the gush of the wind. Hear the live music being played by the people around. Appreciate the patience of a friend who offered a company. Wear a smile.

Sometimes, in this busy life, we neglect to experience the moment. We are so concentrated on going somewhere that we ignore the sceneries laying before us. I felt my legs pedaling, I brushed off the thought of falling, and I breathed the fresh air and listened to the whistling of the trees. It was magnificent.

I know I still need to harness my skill. I want to get the hang of it. It is actually an achievement for me. I began learning biking this February only, in four different occasions, and I am starting to get the hang of it. And boy am I so proud. ^^