Senseless ramblings

My relatives drove over from Malaysia to Singapore to stay at my place for a few days. Last night, my dad brought my relatives and our family out to Little India for dinner. After dinner, we wanted to show the Christmas decorations to our relatives at Orchard Road, but we nearly made a wrong turn at 1 of the junctions and had to cut into the path of another car.

The "cut" wasn't exactly legal, but luckily the driver didn't seem angry. Actually, upon closer look, the driver turned out to be Jacelyn Tay. Everyone in the car became a little excited and waved to her. If she saw us, she'd probably think we intercepted her just to get her attention.

I went for my first physiotherapy session, since my operation, today. Unlike 4 years ago when I went to that exact same room, the place is now full of female physiotherapists. Back then, all the physiotherapists were males. It made me wonder what sparked the change.

My leg has improved slightly, in terms of its range of motion. I still rely heavily on my crutches however. The 2 long scars on my leg are gradually closing up, but they look very ugly as they close. I think that when it's fully healed, it would look like I've been to a fight and gotten 2 terrible slashes on my right knee.

I get tired very easily, as though I'm having some illness. In fact, I'm very tired now. Bedtime.

It's not over yet

Yesterday I had my staples removed.

That really hurt. Especially in those spots where my muscles move much more than others because of its location at my knee joint. It felt as bad as putting those staples in. The nurse who removed them felt rather sorry for me.

It seems as though I'm torturing you...

When she finally removed the last staple, the nurse told me that she'll be covering my wound with a waterproof bandage, which I can remove 5 days later. The only good news I heard that entire day.

After she was done patching up my wound, I realised with horror that some regions of my wound - mostly dried scabs - are in contact with the adhesive portion of the bandages. That means if I remove the bandage, I'll also remove the dried blood which protects my wound. Just when I thought the pain would be over...

Anyway, now I have this long ugly scar, or rather 2 long ugly scars, which makes everyone stare, just that they can't see the one at the back of my knee. Wonder how will it look like eventually.

Some day, I'll move away

I still don't know where, and I still don't know when. But 1 day, I'll definitely move myself away from all the crap I've been putting up with since the day I was born.

My leg hurts a lot less recently.

Must be due to all the love and friendship around me. Actually, most of them are not in my immediate vicinity, but the various corners of Singapore, but they came by to my place to remind me that my life is a blessed one.

Right now, I just can't wait to take all those nasty staples off my leg.

6 weeks of overseas training to 6 weeks of medical leave

Yesterday, when I went for medical follow-up, my doctor told me that my knee should recover in approximately a month's time. And next week, I'll be getting my staples removed. Yes, my wound was closed back in place by staples - similar to the ones used to hold multiple sheets of paper together - instead of stitches.

Life is like a pain lately. I wake up to pain everyday: pain in my knee from the surgery wounds, from the swelling which is inevitable after such an operation, from my back which aches from having to remain in the same position for too long, from the lack of blood flowing through my brain due to all that blood loss...I can go on forever.

I try to distract myself from the pain with computer games and books, but due to the swelling in my knee, I have to keep my leg elevated. Elevated means my foot has to be at a higher altitude at least than my butt during the day, and higher than my heart when I'm sleeping. Like some instructions from a yoga master.

In that kind of position, the only thing I can do is to read books. The library books I've borrowed previously are being consumed rapidly. Soon I'll need someone to borrow new ones for me again.

I should have stated this earlier: I have great difficulties moving around, even within the confines of my home.

And all these while, everyone thinks that my girlfriend comes over to my place to take care of me EVERYDAY. That kind of thing is too good to be true.

Enough of blogging. My leg is starting to hurt again. Back to reading Tom Clancy's novels.

Operation PVNS removal successful

I'm glad to be home 2 days after my operation. Quite a lot of people came over to visit me while I was hospitalised, can't express my thanks sufficiently. I think more friends will be coming over to visit me while I'm recuperating at home.

My muscles are rather stiff from lying on the bed for 2 days, and my right leg numb from the anaesthesia and internal bleeding. The doctor suggests that I move my legs often to keep the muscles from becoming too stiff as well as to improve blood flow. However, the wound from the surgery threatens to open if I move my right leg. Caught pretty tight caught between exercising and not exercising. It's hard to find a compromise.

I had a glance at my leg when the nurse changed my bandage gave me a rough idea of how many stitches were used to sew my wounds - should be at least 50 - and that really shows how long each cut (1 at the front and 1 at the back) was.

Feel rather handicapped now. Look forward to leading a normal life soon.

Juvenile delinquent

I injured myself while I was having overseas training in France. The injury was pretty serious and I had to go for an operation to...set things right. Lazy to go into any details now.

Anyway, I have to be hospitalised for 3 days after my operation, and I figured that I might die of boredom while lying in there for that period. So, I decided to borrow a few books from the national library to help me pass the 3 days.

Perhaps it was the loss of blood due to my injury - there was a significant amount of internal bleeding in my right leg - and I had not recovered from the losses yet, I forgot to scan 1 of the 4 books at the borrowing station and proceeded to walk out of the library.

"Beep beep beep beep beep..."

The alarm at the entrance went off. The security officer at the counter beckoned me over.

"How many books did you borrow?", he questioned.

"Three", I replied and took the books out of my bag to show him. As I did, I realised that I had 4 books in my bag.

"You said three books, but you have four. This is no good."

I opened my mouth to explain that I was careless, but he interrupted me before I could begin, "Which school are you from?" he asked sternly.

"School?" I stared wide-eyed at him. After a pause, I managed to say "I'm not studying..."

The security officer suddenly changed his attitude. Perhaps he realised he wasn't dealing with some juvenile delinquent. Or perhaps he felt that his threats were ineffective despite his best efforts.

"Please go to the borrowing station and borrow the book that you left out." he pointed at the borrowing station and then went back to what he was doing.

I was still in a bit of a shock over being mistaken for a student, and it took a few moments before I did as I was told. A little later, there was a stupid grin on my face that couldn't be wiped off.

Qiuping was with me throughout this entire incident and she asked why was I smiling away.

I told her, "I should have said 'I am from Maha Bodhi Primary School (the school at which Qiuping teaches), and this is my teacher, Miss Pearlyn Tan. She can help to inform the principal for you.' I wonder what his reaction would be."

Qiuping shot me a what-a-stupid-idea-that-is look and walked off. I was still grinning away.

Milestone

About 3 days ago, I logged into Blogger, thinking of writing down a milestone in my life. A milestone consisting of a few unpleasant events. Milestones don't always have to be unpleasant, but this one happened to be.

However, after typing for some time, I couldn't carry on. Writing negative things get me depressed, and in turn takes away my mood to blog. Furthermore, stating those experiences also makes me seem as though I'm trying to gain sympathy.

Someone told me I needed care and concern, not sympathy.

Speaking of which, I realised that sometimes it is very necessary to show how bad a situation you are in so that people will not assume that everything is fine. Showing how bad things really are feels to me like putting up a show for gaining sympathy, which is not my style. I prefer to put up a brave front.

Putting on a brave front doesn't mean I don't need any help, nor does it mean I don't appreciate any empathy.

Maybe this is what separates true friends from normal friends.