The Ash Family's Culinary Adventures

Domestic Bliss

David and I had been enjoying a little semblance of domestic bliss in the past couple of weeks.  No, we were not attempting to make babies, to the relief of Joel.  We had been busy in the kitchen, exploring our inner Gordon Ramsay and Nigella Lawson. We got reacquainted with our kitchen appliances and utensils again.  Previously, we bonded only with the refrigerator when David peered into it 173 times a day to look for food.  Even the blender was no longer a tool solely used to fuel our evenings with exotic cocktails.  We have been baking breads, scones, cupcakes, cookies, whipping up jams, chutney, spreads and experimenting with different types of bruschetta toppings and canapés.

That’s not all!  I have also been channeling both my favourite food writer, Nigel Slater of BBC's famed Simple Cooking program as well as Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall of the River Cottage series by growing my own herbs and vegetables.  I have been using them in my cooking by getting  recipe tips from Nigel on Tweeter too.  So far, I have got an array of herbs and vegetables growing by my window sill like rosemary, thyme, basil, mint, chilies, celery, bak choy and water convolvulus.  The list may be expanded soon to include oregano and chives.  Nigel made a suggestion about sprinkling lavender flowers on roasted tomatoes and cheese on toast.  I would probably need to grow a pot of lavender soon.

Anyway, I did promise some of my friends, a couple of recipes from the Ash Family’s culinary adventures, so here they are:


Spiced Pineapple Compote

Ingredients:

·                     2 pineapples - peeled and grated (do not use a blender)

·                     1 cup water  - scented with juice of 2 oranges and a tablespoon of orange zest)

·                     cup brown sugar

·                     sticks cinnamon , 2 star anise and 4 cloves

Directions:
1. After grating the pineapple, put the pineapple, water, juice, zest and spices in a pot and cook over low to medium heat until the pineapple mixture is soft.  This takes about half an hour with intermittent stirring.
2. Stir the sugar into the pineapple mixture and continue cooking till the mixture thickens over slightly higher heat for another half an hour. Once the mixture has thickened, leave to cool in pot. 
3. When sufficiently cooled, spoon the compote into sterilized jars with tight fitting lid and store in the refrigerator.

Raisin Scones

Ingredients:

·                     2 cups Self-raising flour

·                     2 tablespoons brown sugar

·                     1 teaspoon baking soda

·                     1/2 cup butter

·                     1 cup raisins

·                     1/2 cup buttermilk

·                     1 egg white beaten

Directions:
1. Combine, flour, baking soda, and sugar in a bowl
2. Rub in butter till mixture resembles coarse crumbs, then fold in buttermilk and raisins.
3. Knead mixture on floured surface, then shape them into circles and flatten slightly.
4. Brush the top of each scone with the egg white and then bake it in pre-heated oven at 200 degrees for 20 minutes.

David and I really enjoyed tottering about in our kitchen and our little herb garden like a couple of geriatrics in a wee cottage. I guessed this was another outcome of that pre-empty nester syndrome we had been experiencing with Joel spending a lot more time out with his friends.  Our housekeeper Evelyn has not quite bought into our recent spate of culinary adventures yet as she had to deal with the massive cleaning up afterwards.  I had to force her to sit and watch Heston Blumenthal on TV in the hope that she could feel thankful that we had not attempted to stuff and roast a pig on a spit right in the middle of her pristine kitchen or attempt to recreate a menu from Medieval Europe using Bailey as yet.


About the writer:

The writer of this blog post is a 43 year old mother of one, who spreads her time between her day job as a marketeer at a financial institution, her hobby as a certified professional tarot reader and numerologist, and her family which includes a 19 year old son.  She's married to a Scot who has been affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" and prays that he does not find out that the term when translated, has labeled him as a "Ginger Head".

Mum Must Love Hello Kitty Too

Mothers’ Day Mania

I know Mothers’ Day is traditionally a day most mothers would blog to death about how wonderful it was to be a mother.  I know because I was one of them gushing about my son’s home-made card.  When I logged on to Facebook, my entire wall was filled with friends’ pictures in all manner of poses, with their kids and their Mothers’ Day presents.  I even knew what they had for Mothers’ Day lunch or dinner because they posted pictures of their scrumptious meals.  My single friends were not left out of the celebrations too.  They fancied themselves as “mothers” to their pets and posted pictures of themselves and their pets, some of them had their dogs wearing clothes with the words “I love Mom” printed on it.

My own Facebook timeline was also shamelessly plastered with posts about Joel’s home-made Mother’s Day card and everything else “mother-related” that is worth cooing about.

What I was not prepared for was Mum’s Mothers’ Day gift to me though.  While the words in Joel’s card brought a tear to my eye, the intent and efforts behind Mum’s gift made me break down in uncontrollable sobs.   

Mum’s Hello Kitty Prezzie

What was the gift?  It was a collection of 10 Hello Kitty collectible figurines.  Ever since I came out of the closet as a Hello Kitty fan, I had my colleagues, my husband, my son, my friends and now my Mum, plying me with many Hello Kitty gifts ranging from a Hello Kitty hairdryer, a Hello Kitty weighing scale, Hello Kitty bed covers, Hello Kitty dolls, Hello Kitty kitchen utensils including a frying pan, a pancake pan ( *hint* I don’t have a Hello Kitty toaster) as well as Hello Kitty crockery and kitchen utensils. My bathroom is filled with Hello Kitty bathroom accessories.  Even David is currently using Hello Kitty bath towels, shampoo and shower gel.  The family had to eat dinner off Hello Kitty plates, bowls and utensils.

I have to stress though that the set of 10 Hello Kitty collectibles were so precious to me, not because they were Hello Kitty collectibles, but because of the effort it took for Mum to collect all of them.

Hello Kitty Tokidoki Promotion

Our local grocery store 7-11 launched a Hello Kitty Tokidoki promotion for about 2 months.  I was a little hazy about the mechanics of the promotion but from whatever little I knew, this was what Mum had to do to get a collectible figurine in a specific design.  She had to spend $4 to get 1 stamp.  Every 6 stamps ($24 worth of products bought) and an additional cost of $3.90 would entitle her to 1 figurine.  She collected all 10 figurines over a 2-month period which meant that she could have spent $280 or more on groceries like bread, eggs, and milk. 

Mum Would Do Anything For Me

One thing was certain.  She must have visited 7-11 on a daily basis for 2 months, collected a shoe-box full of stamps and consumed a truck load of bread, eggs and milk just so her loopy daughter could get a full set of 10 collectible Hello Kitty figurines. 

Mum spoiled me way too much.  This was truly a gesture of Mother’s love.  I would have done the same for Joel, but I would have been suspicious if Joel had asked me to consume $280 worth of bread, milk and eggs to obtain his collection of Hello Kitty collectible figurines.  Perhaps next time when they have a Transformers promotion, I might do the same then.

Yes Mum truly spoiled me silly.  She spoiled me by cooking my favorite dishes when I visited her.  Even when I haven’t had the time to visit her, she would whip up these dishes, and showed up at my doorstep carrying bags of Tupperware filled with a huge amount of food, which was enough to sustain a town in the event of a natural disaster of seismic proportion. 

She spoiled me by boiling soup and preparing her “witches’ brew” of Chinese traditional herbal medicines when I was ill, believing that Western medicines were detrimental to my liver and my brain.  I still have not been able to convince her that it was too late; my liver was malfunctioning due to the copious amount of beers I enjoyed when I was younger, and my brain was, well, loopy as the years had gone by - incurable.

I Love My Mum

I love my Mum.  I am so grateful that I have her in my life even though we get on each other’s nerves often. David said that it was because we were both “2 peas in the pod”, I could not figure out how that was so when I did not spot a tight curly perm.

I appreciate her presence more than anything.  A colleague told me that when she saw my Hello Kitty figurines sitting in a row by my desk, it made her teary because she missed her Mum who was no longer with her.  I would not know what to do with my life without Mum. 

That is why I feel so blessed.  Mum’s gift to me was worth more than anything money could ever buy. 

About the writer:

The writer of this blog post is a 43 year old mother of one, who spreads her time between her day job as a marketeer at a financial institution, her hobby as a certified professional tarot reader and numerologist, and her family which includes a 19 year old son.  She's married to a Scot who has been affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" and prays that he does not find out that the term when translated, has labeled him as a "Ginger Head".

Happy Mothers' Day To Me

A Special Mother-Child Bond

Today is Mothers' Day.  It is my 19th Mothers' Day to be exact and the 43rd one for Mum.  

Mum has a very special relationship with me.  Whatever little arguments and differences we may have had occasionally, we actually have a very close relationship which I felt was based on a lot of selfless love balancing delicately with our individual characteristics.

Like my relationship with Mum, Joel also had a very special relationship with me.  I always thought I did well, and that Joel had grown up very sensible in spite of his younger years when he had to bear the brunt of the negativity when I was undergoing a divorce with his father.  We were both very close and we told each other everything, governing our relationship with a lot of openness and trust.

Then it hit me that he was all grown up as I had alluded in my last blog post  - I found myself going through  Pre-Empty Nester's syndrome, seeing Joel increasingly lesser at home.

Joel's Special Prezzie For Me

However, I do get reminded from time to time, how blessed I am to be a Mother.  Last night, I found a drawing of Joel, David and I, done by Joel when he was about 8 years old.  It was such a heart-warming drawing of our "not very normal but beautiful" family.  It brought back fond memories of days when Joel still "needed" me when he was younger.  Now that he was older, and I saw lesser of him at home, these memories became even more precious to me.

I was thrilled today when I woke up to a giant home-made Mothers' Day card on my dresser.  Joel was not very subtle as I spotted him clumsily fiddling with stickers, pens, and scrapbooking materials late last night.  I knew he was creating something for me and secretly I felt very pleased.  In the wee hours of the morning, I heard his heavy footsteps stumbling into my room.  He was trying to place his completed Mothers' Day card on my dresser without my knowing but of course I knew, and had to turn over to smile secretly to myself.

I read every word on that card this morning when I woke up, and it made be cry.  You see, I had "separation issues" when he was spending a lot of time with his girlfriend and less time with me.  I was quite possessive of his time with me.  I didn't quite minded his time at school, with his friends, on his hobbies, but time spent with his girlfriend often sent me into an insane frenzy.

However, when i read the words on that card, I felt I was now ready to let go because this was what it said, "I chose to put my efforts into my relationship with her.  She's done many things that have reminded me of my time with you."  

Ready To Let Go

My son is all grown up.  I am ready to let go now.  I should be happy, if he had found a girlfriend who shared his passions, his good times and his bad times, nurtured his personality and created fond memories with.  I had a lot of precious memories of times spent with past boyfriends.  Each one of them taught me something new, and developed my emotional resilience.  I became a better wife because of my past relationships.  

Being a mother meant that I had to also be ready to let go as he grew up to discover the world out there.  Discovering the world out there meant that I had to accept that he might trip and fall on his face from time to time.  I would not be there to help catch him when he did fall, but I could be there to pick him up, brush the dirt off his knees and send him off again to discover more new things.

So yes, I think I am ready to let him go now.


About the writer:

The writer of this blog post is a 43 year old mother of one, who spreads her time between her day job as a marketeer at a financial institution, her hobby as a certified professional tarot reader and numerologist, and her family which includes a 19 year old son.  She's married to a Scot who has been affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" and prays that he does not find out that the term when translated, has labeled him as a "Ginger Head".

I Am A Pre-Empty Nester

Empty Nesters Syndrome

In the last few months, David and I had been experiencing odd moments of solitude at home as Joel increasingly spent time at campus, with his friends, on industrial attachment at the hospital or with his girlfriend – just fill in the blanks because one never gets  a straight answer from him to a simple question of “Where are you going?”

The environment seemed so quiet and peaceful, sans the occasional barking of the dogs when the newspaper delivery guy appeared at our door.  Instead of cooking a feast for the family, we both would be munching on salad leaves and left-over’s for lunch or dinner during weekends.  In the past when the dogs were automatically walked 4 times a day by magic, we now have to roster the dog-walking duties between the 2 of us.  While I used to have a car-door opener and shopping bag carrier during our window-shopping trips, I now have to carry my own bags.  As there is only 1 other tea aficionado at home, I now have to brew my own cup of tea.

I reckoned this is what they famously called, the “Empty Nesters Syndrome”

Pre-Empty Nesters


When I searched Wikipedia, it defined “Empty Nest Syndrome” as a feeling of grief and loneliness parents may feel when their children leave home for the first time, such as to live on their own or to attend a college or university. This can result in depression and a loss of purpose for parents, since the departure of their children from "the nest" leads to adjustments in parents' lives. Empty nest syndrome is especially common in full-time mothers.

Let me qualify here that I am not a full-time mother and I am certainly not depressed.  While it took some time for me to get used to the quiet surroundings at home without the boy, it definitely gave me a lot of time to pursue my own interests like taking on more Tarot reading appointments and Tarot coaching sessions on weekends.  I know David felt the same because he too started taking on more photography assignments and had even used his spare time to help a friend manage her pub.

Seeing that we should be more accurately termed as “Pre-Empty Nesters”, I then  started searching on the internet for ways to “prepare for his move to the next phase of his life – out of my house”.  Don’t get me wrong.  It’s not that I can’t contain my excitement.  It’s just that whatever I could do to make productive use of time when we had it, I wanted to ensure I was doing just that.

Preparing For The Chick To Leave The Coop


I found  the following information on WikiHow:

1) “Prepare for the departure. If you're expecting your children to be leaving within the next year, take this time to check that they are aware of how to do the basic essentials for caring for themselves alone. Make sure they know how to wash their clothes, cook for themselves, balance a checkbook, …”

Houston, I think we may have a problem.  The boy needs a map to get himself to the bathroom for a shower, his room currently looks like the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy and by the weekend, his allowance is down to a mere 20cents, enough for him to call me from prison should he stupidly land himself there.  While he is adept at making tea, he can’t do much else like wash his own clothes, cook a decent meal  and balance a checkbook.

 
Improving Communication

2)  ”Explore the ways that you intend to keep in touch with your children. You'll feel a sense of loneliness and emptiness when they're gone because you can't just turn around and tell them things as you always used to do. Keeping up constant communications is vital for maintaining a sense of family togetherness..”

Honestly, I think it is better that communication is kept to a minimal.  If there is communication at all, someone needs to develop a dictionary to go with it.  You see, communicating with someone from teenage to early adulthood is quite frustrating.  Can someone please explain to me what “ROFL”, “LMAO”, and less than 3 mean?  Less than 3 was picked up when he sent me this text that said “<3”.

Recognize The Symptoms

3)  “Understand what empty nest syndrome is, so that you can recognize the symptoms in your own situation. Empty nest syndrome is a psychological condition that affects principally women, producing grief when one or more of the children leave home..”

I haven’t experienced that grief yet.  Perhaps I am still experiencing Pre-Empty Nest syndrome which is more accurately described as feelings of being in love with spouse again, feelings of glee because I now have the entire house to myself, feelings of satisfaction because I now have more time to accept more Tarot appointments, feelings of exhaustion because I now have to carry my own shopping bags, and feelings of thirst because no one is there to make tea for me.

Looking After Our Own Needs

4)  “Start looking to your own needs. Once you're satisfied that you've set your child on the right path, you'll start noticing the big change in your life. The way in which you choose to perceive this change will color your feelings and approach to it – if you see it as a gaping hole, you'll feel much more miserable than if you choose to see it as an opportunity to revive some of your own interests and pursuits. Avoid creating a shrine out of your child's bedroom...”

Now, this is possibly the only piece of advice that I resonate with.  David and I have started looking after ourselves better.  i)  We started creating a salad bar at home, upon the suggestion of a friend.  At dinner time, we would just fill our plates with different types of vegetables, nuts, fruits, some roast chicken or smoked salmon, and whatever is available in the fridge.  It’s a simple dinner but it had transformed our eating habits and hopefully will contribute to better health for us. We couldn’t quite do that in the past because Joel had an aversion for anything green in colour. ii) We started spending more time on our passions.  David had been taking on more photography assignments and I had been accepting more Tarot reading appointments and Tarot coaching engagements.  In  the past, we were conscious that time spent with Joel was very limited during weekdays due to school.  However, now that he had been spending more time with friends, girlfriend, and school projects both on weekdays and weekends, we had decided to keep ourselves busy with our respective activities.

Rediscovering My Husband

5)  “Rediscover the love of your life…”

This is the best advice ever.  In the last 12 years of marriage, David and I had been so busy juggling our respective careers, family commitments and other projects.  For the first time in 12 years, we started walking on this journey of rediscovery.  Age is a wonderful thing. One’s perspectives, interests and passions evolved with age.  I thought David’s evolved for the better.  He had become more interesting a person to talk to than he ever was 12 years ago when we first got married because of his varied interests and his very bold “dare-to-do”/ “no-harm-trying” attitude to life.  I saw this in the way he passionately rehearsed his guitar for his gigs, I saw this in the hard work he put into his photography assignments and photo-editing that he would  do through the night in order to get the photos to the client the next day. I saw how gamed he was in agreeing to help a friend run her pub. 

Even our weekends now are never pre-planned.  In the past, we had every activity scheduled like a school timetable.  Now, we might just take the car out on weekends saying “ Let’s see where the yellow brick road takes us.”

I like being a Pre-Empty Nester.  It’s somewhat like dating a new guy, only somehow, I know him and like him even better.  As for the boy, I am hopeful that this Pre-Empty Nester period is teaching him new skills to hone his independence for the day I become an Empty Nester.

About the writer:

The writer of this blog post is a 43 year old mother of one, who spreads her time between her day job as a marketeer at a financial institution, her hobby as a certified professional tarot reader and numerologist, and her family which includes a 19 year old son.  She's married to a Scot who has been affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" and prays that he does not find out that the term when translated, has labeled him as a "Ginger Head".

Reliving Youth At Happy Daze

Reliving Youth

One evening, while chatting over dinner and drinks at a pub owned by my friend, she spoke to us about some of her challenges faced running the pub.  The lack of trained and experienced staff was always an issue.  In the F&B industry good service staff is difficult to find and even harder to hold on to.  She was also in the throes of a major renovation then which left her with little time managing the constant stream of customers coming in. 

The pub’s crowded every evening, and the crowd was a good mix of regular customers who lived in the area as well as customers who came straight from work as their offices were located nearby.  I liked the fact that the pub was a cosy hangout, and I could walk in without make-up, dressed in a t-shirt, shorts and flip-flops, propped myself at the bar and used it as my cosy “office space” to complete my Tarot readings via email, while I enjoyed a glass of red wine.

My friend asked if Joel could help out at the pub in the evenings after school.  I wasn’t too keen on that idea particularly when a) Joel needed to put his head down to get through this course and graduate without any drama and b) I didn’t want him to work for free by spending his hard-earned money at the pub on glass and tableware that I foresee he would be breaking throughout his stint serving at the pub,.

So Joel didn’t get past his interview with me for the job as head bartender.  However, out of concern for my dear friend who had grown up with me since school days, and partly because I thought it was a good idea to temporarily get the hubby out of my hair in the evenings so that I could take on more Tarot reading appointments, I decided to “pimp” David out to my friend to take on the role proudly as the new head bartender.

Now, David has a full time job.  He runs a business which sees him meeting clients, managing interviews and working on new business pitches and client presentations on a daily basis. So time is a scarcity for him apart from week nights.  When I was persuading him to help my friend out, I was half expecting him to dismiss the idea as one of my looney attempts to get him out of my hair.  It was not very far from the truth.

In actual fact, David had no say in the idea apart from a slight grunt. When he was studying at Napier University, he used to spend his evenings after lectures working at his local.  I convinced him that this was no different. The pub was down the road from our home, I was there often to do my Tarot readings anyway, I even used the pub as my base to do creative agency briefings and I am there for dinner at least once a week.  So I persuaded David to do my friend a favor and work the “Gordon Ramsay” magic on the operational issues at her pub.  After all, it was just for a bit of fun in the evenings from Monday to Friday.  He was making best use of his time helping someone, while getting a bit of fitness in his life too as he walks to the pub from home and back. 

Thankfully, David agreed to it because like his time spent on being the lead guitarist at his band, or his time spent doing photography work at rugby and soccer games, he felt this stint at the pub was Reliving His Youth.


Happy Days At Happy Daze

My friend’s pub is called Happy Daze. This was quite aptly named because she always looked like she was in a daze.  In fact, most of us looked like we were always in a daze then, stumbling through school quite haphazardly.  However the best decision she had ever made, was to turn this little corner of our neighborhood which was previously a second-hand book store called NIB, into a lucrative pub. 

We had so many wonderful memories of NIB.  I used to rent books from there with stories about the Famous Five, Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys.  When I was slightly older and fancied a handsome prince coming to sweep me off my feet and into the sunset, I rented stacks of Barbara Cartland books.  Then, Barbara Cartland was porn to me.  I felt that I had grown up whenever I read about how the main character in the book would get her hair caressed and how she would feel her nipples hardened just by a single kiss.  Wow!  That was explosive for an 11 year old.  Sadly, 33 years later, I confronted the reality that there was no such thing as a mind-blowing, nipple-hardening kiss, particularly when Law and Order, CSI Miami and NCIS were on the list of must-watch programs every night.

So that second-hand book store was the hallmark of my Happy Days as a child.  My friend did well to preserve that memory somewhat by opening a pub in its place.  Well, at least she maintained the grumpiness and eccentric character of the second hand bookstore owner.  Every time one complained about being served soggy chips or cold baked beans on toast, she would growl at the person and bark, “It’s edible in’it?”  It was comforting to know that nothing has changed too much.

The New Angmo Bar Supervisor

I am glad to report that David’s stint at Happy Daze for the past few weeks had been filled with plenty of laughter. His presence at the pub drew a lot of buzz.  One customer asked “Who’s that new Angmo (a commonly used slang for a Caucasian in Singapore) bartender?. Another customer quipped,” I did not realize Happy Daze had a new boss.”  Yet another said, “Perhaps he was  hired to cater  to the  growing population of fellow Angmos living in the area.”    So he was met with these reactions from customers which really made him laugh.  He recounted how he had helped retrain the bar staff, taught them how to make proper mojito fresh from scratch and not use the pre-mixed mojito. He taught them how to do a proper Tequila Sunrise. He also taught them how to make basic Irish coffee.  The staff there were amazed by his skills behind the bar.  Like I mentioned before, he was reliving his youth.   He also reorganized the layout of the bar such that the bar staff had better access to the variety of drinks and even did a review of the kitchen. 

He became fast friends with a bar staff who was a Chinese national.  It was quite fun to watch them attempt to converse meaningfully because one spoke little English and the other had a broad Scottish accent. He became fast friends with some of the customers who lived around the neighborhood and was sorely missed when he couldn’t help out at the pub on weekends.

Happy Dave

David  is still having fun nightly at the pub.  I am there about twice a week to do my Tarot readings there. Often our friends come around to meet us there for drinks too.  My friend had such a weird sense of humour too and decided to hang a parrot mobile up at the bar counter to signify that Sun Goddess Tarot was in the house, every time I showed up.  Moreover, the bar and service staff were often thrilled every time I shuffled my Tarot cards or did a numerological assessment for them.

I am conscious though that David maintains his focus on his day job as a headhunter.  Reliving his youth as a photographer, guitarist and head bartender is okay if it helped him take away the stress of his day job and added a bit of excitement in his life.  We often joked that Happy Daze should rebrand itself into Happy Dave because that is that little bit of light he had brought to the place.

My friend should feel blessed. Do visit this quaint little pub, Happy Daze, if you want to try one of David's to-die-for Oreo milkshakes. It is located in Singapore at a small residential area called Serangoon Gardens.

About the writer:

The writer of this blog post is a 43 year old mother of one, who spreads her time between her day job as a marketeer at a financial institution, her hobby as a certified professional tarot reader and numerologist, and her family which includes a 19 year old son.  She's married to a Scot who has been affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" and prays that he does not find out that the term when translated, has labeled him as a "Ginger Head".

Am So Afraid Of Hospitals

The Universe Must Be Making Fun Of Me

A visit to the hospital in the last 2 weeks threw me into another spate of frenzy. I was in and out of the hospital for a battery of medical tests from an ultrasound, CT scan and blood tests, when the doctor was trying to investigate the cause of my resistant hypertensive condition. In spite of an increased dosage in the hypertension drugs, my blood pressure reading was still high.

My time at the hospital was déjà vu. I remembered going through the same emotional roller coaster just a few months ago when the doctors found excessive calcification in my breast which could be caused by the presence of precancerous cells. I got a clean bill of health after the removal of that affected area of the beast. And then this happened.

Yesterday, the doctor finally gave me a run-down of the test results, uncovering that I actually had a congenital condition, a myocardial bridge in my lower descending artery, made worse by excessive calcification found in a lesion just above that bridge.

Angry And Worried

Of course, I was so angry and worried at the same time. I reacted with a little prayer to the Universe. "What's bloody wrong with you? Didn't I say I want a hospital-free year in 2013? After the knee and breast surgeries last year, I took great care of myself. Really." I was too angry with myself for not watching my diet and fitness when I was younger, I was angry with mom and dad for not knowing, I was angry with David for not being with me at the hospital. And these intermingled with a sense of panic when the doctor started telling me that he may do an angiogram to uncover the cause of the calcification and perhaps put a stent in the affected area. I was not having it. No way. I don't want to see a surgical theatre again. So I asked him to allow me to try some anti-platelet medication, change my hypertension medication and give me 2-3 weeks to manage my diet, then we can decide what the next steps should be then.
I am taking back control of my health.

Taking Control

So the first step of taking control, is to understand my underlying condition. The myocardial bridge in me occurred when my left descending artery tunneled through the heart muscle rather than rested on top of it. As the heart muscle grew around the artery, the myocardial bridge was formed. As the heart squeezes to pump blood, the muscle exerts pressure across the bridge and constricts the artery. This defect is present from birth and often left undetected. It can lead to powerful heartbeats and angina.

The excessive calcification above it is caused by injury to the vessel walls. Because of where that's located just before the bridge, it adds even more pressure to the area.

The second step to taking control, is taking things easy. The doctor and I got talking about my hectic lifestyle, juggling multiple roles, tremendous amount of stress, poor diet, erratic fitness regime and all on 4 hours of sleep. He cautioned me that naturally with age, we needed to be mindful of our health and particularly with my condition, he advised me to take it easy. 

So I got two weeks of ultimatum before I return to the hospital to get the doctor's assessment on next steps. I am taking the next two weeks easy starting from today. I will be watching what I eat and drink ( I believed I heard him say red wine was good), I won't be plying my personal trainer with excuses to skip his training sessions at the gym , I will endeavor to get less worked up about every small issue ( this is slightly more difficult for me ), I will be going to bed by 10pm every night ( no more Tweeting at 1am in the morning and I am putting a stop to wee-hour Tarot readings) and most of all, I am going to enjoy every moment with my family and my good friends.

What You Can Do To Help

So this is what you can do to help me: 1) Please get this message out to everyone to get a thorough medical test at least once a year.  If I could help someone younger to understand that good health is within one's control,  it would be my way of helping save a life.  2) Stop me if I attempted to drag you out to Cold Stone Creamery or Marble Slab for an ice-cream just to relief my stress on a bad day. A glass of red wine at the end of the day is medically proven to be more beneficial.  3) Give me a little push in the right direction if I decide to skip my personal training sessions in favour of that newly-opened steak house across the office. 4) When you catch me on Facebook  and Twitter past 10pm, please tell me to piss-off.

I will be keeping my close friends and family updated on the doctor's decisions in 2 weeks time.  Meanwhile, please pray for me.

About The Writer:

The writer of this blog post is a 43 year old mother of one, who spreads her time between her day job as a marketeer at a financial institution, her hobby as a certified professional tarot reader and numerologist, and her family which includes a 19 year old son.  She's married to a Scot who has been affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" and prays that he does not find out that the term when translated, has labeled him as a "Ginger Head".

A Boy Lost

A Daughter For Life!

When I was a child, my parents were my world.    I grew up in fear that one day they would grow old, fly up into the clouds and become angels.  I want them to stay by my side, cook and clean for me, fetch me from school,  sit beside me as I practiced on my piano, buy new accessories for my doll’s house, and repair my baby dolly so that she can pee without my having to squeeze her little tummy.

As an adult, my parents are still my world.  I live in fear that one day they would grow old, fly up into the clouds and become angels.  I want them to stay by my side to cook my favorite food, be arbitrator when I fight with my son, walk the dogs when I am on vacation, feed the hubby when I travel on business ( or was it the other way around, walk the hubby and feed the dogs…can’t remember) and tell me stories about my younger days when I grew up in fear of their growing old, flying into the clouds and becoming angels.

Before I married David, I told him that he had to accept the notion that in my life, Joel was number 1, Mum and Dad were number 2, and he would be number 3 after the dogs in my list of priorities.  He was new to Singapore, a waif and stray, so he agreed and we got married.  He spent the last 14 years of our lives together, being there for Mum and Dad, fetching and sending and running errands for them, like a good son-in-law should.  It made me extremely happy when he did all that.

Mum had always told me before I had Joel, that if I had a son, I would actually be bringing up a man who would  one day  be taking care of another man’s daughter.  If I had a daughter, I would have a daughter for life who would love me forever, and would live in fear of my growing old, flying up into the sky and becoming an angel.

A Son For Life?

When Joel entered nursing school last year, he had put his heart and soul into the course after his initial misgivings about being “Gaylord Focker”.  David and I made every effort to ensure he stayed on track, encouraging him all the way, and appointed him our personal private nurse at home.  On days when I didn’t cut my finger while peeling an apple, he gladly volunteered to be the personal private nurse to our dogs.  They didn’t seem to mind the exercise of running around the house, away from his stethoscope and blood pressure monitor.

Not too fond of examinations, Joel struggled through the stress of burning the midnight oil during the nursing examinations.  He was not particularly fond of pharmaceuticals – frankly how difficult was  it to spell Aspirin?

So like a good mother, I made sure I stayed up with him, blogging into the night, like I am doing now, while he practiced how to spell the word Aspirin.  I even made tea for him, made late night sandwiches and prepared other snacks for him, made sure he was well fed and watered while he studied.  David even did the dog-walking and garbage-throwing duties during Joel’s examinations.

Our display of parental love and commitment surely must be exemplary.

And what did the boy do?

A Boy Lost

This afternoon, Joel texted me with this cursory note, “Passed Exams.”  I was ecstatic!  I told him how proud I was and how wonderful that his hard work paid off, and promised him a wonderful weekend of treats. 

Then as I was checking my FaceBook newsfeeds, I spotted Joel’s post on his status update. A proud declaration rung seemingly loudly across his FaceBook status “Passed all my modules for year 1, semester 2.  Got my girl to thank for pulling up my Human Bioscience grades…if it wasn’t for her constant nagging and dragging me out to study on weekends knowing that I’ll most probably be slacking away at home, I think I’ll be seeing myself re-sitting the year 1 exams again.  Bravo.”

Bravo indeed.  My own son forgot for that moment, how much effort, prayers, hope and sweat his Pops and Mum had put into ensuring his success.

We were gutted.

But We Are Still Here

Like a good mother, and like my mother before me, and her mother before her, I will still walk beside my child throughout his journey through life, unscathed by such lack of consideration for our commitment and love as parents.  Parental love is unconditional, I was told. However, from time to time, I wished he would tell me he lived in fear that I would grow old one day, fly up into the sky and become an angel.

About the writer:

The writer of this blog post is a 43 year old mother of one, who spreads her time between her day job as a marketeer at a financial institution, her hobby as a certified professional tarot reader and numerologist, and her family which includes a 19 year old son.  She's married to a Scot who has been affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" and prays that he does not find out that the term when translated, has labeled him as a "Ginger Head".