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".

I Love My Imperfect Family

Mum Brought The Party To Us Through Food

In the last 2 weeks, as we celebrated Lunar New Year as a family, I had given much thought to what family is about.  With just my weekly visits, I don’t see Mum and Dad often enough, though David begs to differ unless something delicious is brewing on Mum’s stove.  What he sees as lunch, I saw as love.

Mum and Dad know that I am never far away.  I often dig out the treasures of past childhood memories from within my heart as a means to help me ride the rough of adulthood.  In the Tarot language, we call this the “6 of Cups” moment.  In the marketing language, I call it “Mum’s Exquisite Culinary Delights Prepared With Love” ( I have to be 'marketing-savvy' about how I term this with Mum so that she'll do more of it).

Over the last 2 weeks, we had been bonding over Mum’s home-cooked lunches.  We have been eating our way to a comatose state whilst catching up with the extended family on everything from babies, to weddings, to work, right down to the recent hot topic about facing an over-crowded Singapore.

The more we had to eat, the livelier the discussions were, across the dining table.  It’s not just merely food.  It’s Mum’s cooking.  There’s a magic dust she sprinkles over her cooking that creates all the animated chatter and the loud laughter.

We Brought The Party To Dad With The Feasting

Even Dad had a lot of fun.  Ever since Dad’s health deteriorated over the years, given that he had suffered a “silent” stroke, Mum tried to bring any form of celebrations at home so that he could enjoy them without having to move about too much. He definitely enjoyed the array of dishes Mum cooked to celebrate the Lunar New Year.  He didn’t even mind tottering gingerly across the kitchen for half an hour to take his place at the kitchen table so that Mum could serve him some of his favorite dishes.  It was the only exercise he did for that month I think…tottering across the kitchen.

Although Dad just sat there in his favorite chair  most of the time to enjoy the family around him, and he didn’t talk much because his speech was a wee bit slower than usual, his mind is still lucid as ever.   From time to time, he would interject about a topic closest to his heart – his dislike for “The Establishment”.  For me, that was wonderful to see because it’s a sign of his unwavering fighting spirit within him.  Also, while I noticed that he might be physically slower and got quite tired often, I saw him reach out a hand to grab my nephew, pulling him closer so that he could play with the little boy.  I thought that was amazing for someone who took half an hour just to shuffle across a tiny kitchen.

When Dad couldn’t peel a fruit with his weak hands yesterday, I happily did it for him and remembered how he did the same for me when I was very young and didn’t know how to fiddle with a rambutan.   Knowing that Dad has an appetite for junk food, I watched  him look intently in anticipation at me as I removed the wrapper around a chocolate for him.  I did the same when I was very young as he opened a box of chocolates for me.  Dad had fond memories of our family dog Blooie when I was a child.  Blooie was a white toy poodle given to me as a birthday gift.  He died long ago in a road accident and that was the first time I saw my stoic father cry.  My current family dog Bailey, bears a close resemblance to Blooie.  It was heartwarming for me to see Dad laughing at Bailey and annoying the daylights out of the poor mutt who patiently allowed Dad to prod him, blow in his ear and pull his tail.   

I Love My Family

I love my family.  We aren’t perfect.  Half the extended family’s either living abroad or about to live abroad.  My immediate family looks like ambassadors for the United Nations Council For Cultural Diversity given our different last names and different nationalities.  Dad’s not in perfect health, Mum’s sometimes not in the perfect mood, David’s not a perfect shape, but hell, sometimes I am not in perfect mind!  It really doesn’t matter.  All the more I love my rather imperfect family.   However we bitch at each other, no matter how much we get on each other’s nerves and however little doses we can take of each other, at least once a year, particularly every Lunar New Year, Christmas and Easter, I would remember why I love my imperfect family.  In every way, they are perfect to me.

I can’t wait for Easter 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".

Dad and Mum visited the newly opened Gardens By The Bay recently.  Thanks to my cousin, they enjoyed the visit very much and it gave Dad a wonderful tan.

Dad's so happy when Bailey visits.  Bailey reminds him of Blooie, a white toy poodle Dad had given me as a birthday gift when I was a kid. Dad truly loved Blooie like a son.  Today he loves Bailey like a grandson.

Sighhhh....why can't I have a normal family.  The boy uses Bailey as a cushion from time to time.

Don't underestimate Dad...he's lucid enough to remember the past

My United Nations Family - We look like Ambassadors for Cultural Diversity.

Mum is attempting to clown about with fashion glasses. 

Chinese New Year Is A Family Thing

Chinese New Year

Indeed Chinese New Year is all about family.  It’s the longest and most important event in a Chinese festive calendar.  The purpose of which, is to welcome the wonderful season of  Spring.   This year, we celebrate the Lunar New Year of the Chinese Zodiacal sign of the Snake.  It reminded me of the stories my friends told me about how snakes, a symbol of fertility, would appear  out of their hidey holes to test the weather, some time just after Imbolc, which celebrates the midway mark between the Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox. 

As I have been blessed with so many friends from all over the world, I thought to take this opportunity to share a bit of my culture with everyone in this blog post dedicated to my family's celebration of the Lunar New Year of the Snake.

There is a folklore that surrounded Chinese New Year.  When I was very young, I was told stories about this beast called “Nian” who would come out of the Winter hibernation to visit the villages with the intent to hunt for food.  It would  eat crops, livestock and the villagers, causing much fear.  So the villagers would put food out at their front door in the hope that “Nian”’s hunger will be satiated by the food and would leave the crops, livestock and their fellow villagers alone.  “Nian” was afraid of the colour red too, so the villagers would hang red lanterns above their doorways and everyone would wear red during Spring.  “Nian” was also afraid of loud noises hence the villagers would be lighting firecrackers throughout the village in an attempt to frighten “Nian” away.

This week, we celebrate Chinese New Year similarly by hanging red-colored decorations around the home.  I’ve got pretty calligraphy of Chinese couplets printed on red-colored paper hung all over my home and pasted on my front door….much like a Christmas wreath. 

It’s All About Family

We’d spent the week before the festivities spring cleaning and shopping for festive goodies and new clothes.  While my family and I had done all that together, the nicest thing this year was that I did the same with my team at work who are very much family to me too.  My team and I spent our lunch hour one afternoon, shopping along Chinatown and we even rolled up our sleeves to spring clean the office!  One of my more nutty staff suggested that we should be spring cleaning our office, using water with pomelo leaves soaked in it.  Pomelo is seen as a symbol of luck and success, so I hope our projects at work will be launched successfully after breaking my back wiping down my entire office using pomelo leaves.  It was hilarious really, when I started sprinkling my office space and my nameplate with the pomelo leaves in the hope of bringing abundance to my work area!

What’s most important for us during this festive holiday is the “reunion dinner” on the eve of the first day of Chinese New Year.  In China, the villages and town centres are spread far and wide so the younger generation in the family who were working all over, would make a trip home to their villages in time for the Chinese New Year celebrations which would be kicked off with the reunion dinner.  Honestly, it happens here in Singapore too, where some of my Malaysian Chinese, Australian Chinese, British Chinese, American Chinese, Indonesian Chinese, Thai Chinese and Vietnamese Chinese friends had already taken the week off to fly back home to join their extended families for the celebrations.

As today is the eve of Chinese New Year, we celebrated it with a reunion dinner at Mum and Dad’s (much like Thanksgiving), and all my uncles and aunties, my cousins, my brother, my sister-in-law, Granny, David and Joel congregated there for the scrumptious meal.  Mum laid out a smorgasbord of food themed to the festival, for example, the “Prosperity Roasted Duck”, “Longevity Noodles” and “Abundance Hot Pot”.  Okay, slightly cheesy, but you get the message.  My favorite dish at the table was the “Prosperity Raw Fish Salad” which was a dish made of slivers of freshly sliced salmon ( to represent wealth) and a colorful assortment of vegetables. The dish tasted wonderful and tossing the salad  together as a family was fun. As we tossed the salad, we had to utter words of prosperity to “seal the spell”…know what I mean?

Tomorrow, on the first day of Chinese New Year, we will visit Granny, as well as Mum and Dad – the older generation. This year, I wouldn’t visit my uncles because I wanted to dedicate more time during this holiday to David and Joel, just relaxing at home and watching movies together.  What we'd be missing would be the little “pop-up” black jack tables at my uncle’s home.  It’s always filled with much fun and laughter.   During our visits, we would give each other mandarin oranges and red packets filled with money to the children as well as to Granny, Mum and Dad. Giving out mandarin oranges and red packets is seen as a token gesture wishing our relatives, and friends a blessed Lunar New Year full of good health and prosperity. 


It’s Significance To Me

I loved Chinese New Year because of the cultural significance of familial piety.  My Granny, Dad and Mom came from a highly conventional background where they held dearly the Confucian values of respect, piety, and loyalty.  Modern day career demands and fast paced lifestyle have eroded bits of my culture and rendering it excusable  to “not observe the full practice” of the Chinese New Year celebrations.  For example,  today, we don’t wear  traditional Chinese garb (except Joel, who often become the butt of jokes when friends pointed to his Chinese traditional shirt and pants, and asked him why he was still in his pyjamas in the middle of the afternoon) and although  a married daughter was not allowed to go back to her mother’s home for the reunion dinner ( this was culturally forbidden because it was thought that once the daughter is married, she belonged to her husband's family.  A visit back to her own parents' home indicated issues with the marriage), I did.   

My generation and indeed the generation after will see  our culture eroding bit by bit but what still remains strong is our Confucian values of respect, piety and loyalty. 


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".

    My table decked with mandarin oranges, a symbol of gold and abundance, plenty of candy and chocs, and a red packet filled with money.

This is the Chinese word for Prosperity.  It's created out of paper-cutting.  I got this from Chinatown and thought it was such a creative piece of craft.

 

 

 

I have to admit, I haven't the faintest idea what the words in this couplet mean.  I was just told by the bloke at the shop that this was good for David's business.  Whatever helps eh?

The ubiquitous Salmon "Yu Sheng" Salad.  The higher we toss the dish with our chopsticks, the more prosperity will come our way....so they say.

My advertising agencies very kindly visited the office bearing these gifts. 

Pomelo leaves soaked in the water meant to be used for spring cleaning the office.  This is a new custom to me.  Haven't heard that one before.  Not sure if that nutter of a staff is being funny.

The girls captured a pic of me trying to "smudge" my nameplate at the office with the darn pomelo leaves.  On looking back, I think that nutter of a staff was indeed trying to be funny.


And below, is a pic of me with Mr Bean, an albino python.  I think he is albino.  I loved Mr Bean. He is a very gentle python and was brought in by his trainer seen beside me, to usher in the Lunar New Year of the Snake with plenty of photo opportunities for the guests at the event.   He was such a poser and would be peering unabashedly at the photographer.  I never had snakes around my body before and thought he was going to be slimey and icky.  But he was warm, comfy and oh so friendly!

Older And Wiser

Older And Wiser

Now that I am older and wiser, I’ve become more tolerant and accepting and even appreciative of differences.

I pinned this new Jo down to age.  Age and experience have mellowed me, and made me a better and more open-minded  person while still maintaining that fight within me.  You’d think that the older, more experienced and better trained or educated people around me would be the same.  However, in the last month, I felt so disappointed when I encountered a couple of people who disgusted me with their prejudicial views and insincerity. 

Assaulted By Insincerity

A few months ago, there were a few fabulous initiatives launched at work with the aim to increase engagement between colleagues.  I thought that was a wonderful intent. We took that opportunity to share our hobbies, create common interest groups, share tips about family life, health and fitness.  I loved blogging, so I shared my blog.  However, through my blogs, a colleague picked up about my love for Tarot and told me that it was “spiritual” and the “mambo jambo” was “personally offensive”.   I spent a week feeling upset about this personal assault based on someone’s lack of understanding, intolerance and complete disregard for diversity of interests and experiences.  I confronted him to find out what then we should be engaging colleagues about.  He promptly replied, “Hobbies.  You know, like movies, books and food.”  So I retorted back, “That’s great, but my hobbies aren’t movies books and food.  It is Tarot.”  He couldn’t provide me a better justification thereafter, for his prejudicial views.  What’s even worse is that I had initially respected that colleague for his progressiveness, strategic thought leadership and experience.  How could I be so wrong in my judgment?  I can only be thankful that in my role, I don’t have to work too closely with him.

I was keen to move on from that incident because I didn’t want a “fuddy-duddy” and unauthentic person affect the individuality and creativity that I had come to respect in each of my team members at work.  I wanted them to know that in a world full of such unauthentic people, we still need to be true to ourselves, and be proud of our respective gifts.  Oh, I am not supposed to use the word “gifts”.  It has potentially offensive “spiritual”cannotations.

Assaulted By Prejudice

Another incident happened just last week within the Tarot community.  I had been working very hard for awhile now, building my knowledge and skills around Tarot.  Having obtained my Certified Professional Tarot Reader’s qualification from the Tarot Certification Board of America (TCBA) was one of the most fulfilling experiences for me.  I am continuing my esoteric studies only because I have a personal ambition to always learn more and be better. 

However, a very experienced Tarot reader whom I had been communicating with via social media slapped me with a personal assault that took me awhile to regain composure from, more so because she was a fellow Tarot reader.  When she found out about my qualifications, she said “Who are the TCBA to decide whether I am a proficient Tarot reader or not?  I have been reading for more than 30 years and am perhaps a better reader than one armed with a certification.”  I was appalled at that arrogance because I don’t believe there are such things as better readers or worse readers.  As lightworkers, we exist for the purpose of bringing clarity and assurance to our clients.  Bad readers and good readers don’t exist.  We are just Tarot readers trying to hold the hands of our clients.  I wrote a lengthy blog post about this on http://sungoddesstarot.blogspot.sg/2013/01/being-true-to-myself.html?m=1

Still Older But Wiser

25 years ago, I would have removed a shoe to throw it at people like that, and plied the corridors of my office with loud rantings. At my age, I have learnt to accept that such people do exist and we just need to manage them well, not giving them the opportunity to shake our confidence.  In fact, I used these examples to better educate my team at work about the importance of being genuine and appreciative of diversity.  I also spoke to my Tarot protégés about not being arrogant about their experience with Tarot as they get better in their reading skills.   I’d like to think that age and experience did not just make me more appreciative of differences.  I’ve also learnt to manage negative situations better too.

In fact, I shared this outlook with David when he was royally "stiffed" by someone who asked him to take some nice corporate photographs of her as she was starting a new business, for a very paltry sum of money. When she got her photos, she said she liked them. Then after sitting on them for ages, David reminded her that he had yet to be paid. She then suddenly said she didn't like them after all but couldn't explain why. David was very angry because it was a matter of principle which she had clearly violated. David was quite outraged as he had been doing fantastic photography work for years and had an amazing portfolio of photography work under his belt as a testament to his skills. He's never had an issue with his clients all this while. This particular one proved to be that odd ball who was just out to get a free ride from someone so dedicated to his craft. I too, would be mad, if it had happened to me.

Having carried my new "older, wiser, more mellowed" outlook for awhile, I tried to be positive and told him," That's ok. It's only a small sum of money. It had nothing to do with your photography and everything to do with the fact that she couldn't accept her lack of er....grace and beauty. In fact, good photography aside, the best photo-editing equipment and an army of make-up artistes couldn't even help that." I was just being completely honest but that got David laughing so hard and perhaps less mad. So you see, whether you are a doctor, a lawyer, an engineer, a strategist or a psychotherapist, it's not your education, profession, experience, and seniority that makes you. My older and wiser self tells me, it's actually your self-belief that does.

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 Child Taught Me To Count My Blessings

A Trip To The Hospital
  
My staff had arranged for our team to spend the morning at the children’s ward at a local hospital today, to celebrate the birthdays of 2 kids stricken with cancer.  We had brought with us colored paper, crayons, markers, colored pencils and other necessary paraphernalia needed to teach the children simple crafts like making Chinese New Year decorative lanterns and firecrackers. 

I was really excited about the opportunity to interact with the kids albeit slightly intimidated.  Up to now, in spite of my younger days as a volunteer at the charity homes for the elderly or mentally disadvantaged, I have never had the opportunity to interact with kids in this capacity.   Moreover, now that Joel is much older, I had forgotten how to interact with younger  kids apart from the fact that I had to shove my iphone in the hands of my colleague’s daughter one Saturday morning because I had forced the rather reluctant mother to be the “cover girl” at the photo shoot for my advertising campaign.  At that moment, I thanked the universe for giving us Barney the dinosaur on YouTube, and helping me to remember the lyrics to that Barney tune.  I’d never forget that weekend because I dreamt of Barney for 2 consecutive nights and was traumatized enough to stay at home, far away from the kids laughing and playing at the playground below my block of flats.

Touched By A Child

At the ward, I had the privilege to meet little V and her mum.  V is 14 months old and had never quite seen the outside of her home apart from the journey to and from the hospital for her cancer treatment.  V’s eyes were so big and bright, like limpid pools and her cheeks were so chubby you’d want to pinch them too.  She was so chatty as a child, and gesticulated animatedly when she wanted something.  Nothing about V betrayed the fact that she had cancer ravaging her little body and was subjected to painful treatments that no one outside of her family could ever imagine. 

While coloring a picture of Hello Kitty for V, I had a chance to speak to her mum who was such a strong and cheerful lady.  She spoke about V with pride, telling me how clever she was, what her favorite food was (chocolate), what her favorite fruit was (dragon fruit) and describing V’s mischievous antics.  I could sense a mother’s anguish and loneliness within her in spite of her broad smile and occasional laughter.  It suddenly dawned on me that as a volunteer, I was also holding the hand of this lonely mother who perhaps needed the comfort and listening ear of a friend.  It was not just all about the patient, V.  

Spending the morning with V and her mum was perhaps a little slap I needed to remind myself that I should be grateful for a healthy family.  With my attention constantly focused on work and other commitments, I had taken that for granted for far too long.   I suffered a breast cancer scare a few months ago, and while that experience was a hard kick in my shins to remind me to live life for the moment, that somehow didn’t last.  Shortly after, I was back to my old self of juggling multiple commitments, whilst barking at the husband and the boy for not pushing themselves harder to get more business, study harder, earn more, learn more and do more.  I was driving us to do everything more, apart from, to live more. 

I forgot to smell the roses again.

Learning To Count My Blessings

Meeting V was an absolute delight for me.  She was such a lively child and I was enamored by her giggles and her generally happy disposition.  How could a baby stricken with cancer, tormented by painful treatments and haunted by the prospect of a possibly limited future be so happy?

I am so grateful for the time spent with her.  She taught me to count my blessings.  Amongst them are my family, my friends, my team at work, my job which I love, my passion for Tarot, my clients…..I am so grateful for them.

Below is a photo of me with my looney team at the Children's ward at the National University Hospital. Thank you Children's Cancer Foundation for the opportunity we had to play with the children.
  
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".

What Are You Celebrating This Spring?

The Hectic Year-End Festivities

 Before I could even put away my Christmas ornaments and discard the Christmas tree, Chinese New Year music had already drowned out the cacophony of bargaining shoppers at Chinatown.   Chinese restaurants were already collating reservations for Chinese New Year corporate luncheons and family dinners.  Most offices and mall spaces were plastered in red-colored decorations,  ranging from the ubiquitous  calligraphy of auspicious couplets, hanging mobiles in the shape of papier-mâché dancing lions, fire-crackers and pineapple-shaped lanterns.

Over the Christmas season, I found myself diving into a hectic rush of preparing a Christmas dinner menu, cooking up a storm and buying gifts  in between completing my work at the office during the day and managing a flood of Tarot readings in the evenings and during weekends.  When the New Year arrived, I had decided that the best way to spend the New Year was to rest my weary soul by camping out at home in the corner of my sofa in front of the television.  I never moved out of that position all day apart from when I needed a pee.  Even my meals were served up to me as I slouched in the couch. I was too tired to do anything else.

What a waste.

What Do I Want To Celebrate This Spring?

I was determined that this Chinese New Year, it had to be different.  I had to appreciate the significance of a festive season that welcomed back the Spring.  It was a festive season that celebrated family togetherness.  It was a the highlight of the Chinese Lunar  calendar that marked the intent for us to create a fresh start, a new beginning.  It was a 15 -day celebration where married couples and older relatives would be handing out little red packets filled with money as a gesture of good luck.  The elderly Aunties in the family would attempt to match-make the next generation of young unmarried relatives within the family, in the hope of extending the family with babies born in the next few years.  The cousins would come together to play a few rounds of Black Jack.  If you’re lucky, you might add a few more dollars to the collection of red packets you had received earlier.

This Chinese New Year festivities will span over a long 4-day weekend. It would be a good time for me to spend more time with my parents, in particularly, my Mum.  Our relationship has been bouncing up and down according to the volatility of our tempers so my approach to Mum as she judiciously organizes the family activities during the Chinese New Year period, is one of humble gratitude.  I want to restore my relationship with Mum, knowing that she has given her time and effort to loving me so selflessly.

I have also had time to think about my constant exhaustion.  Instead of blaming it on juggling all the different commitments in my life, I have decided to recharge my energy by getting back in touch with nature through the 11km trail walks through the MacRitchie Reservoir forest trail.

I used to do that quite regularly in the past but have stopped these walks for awhile with poor excuses given to justify my sleeping in.   I had done well kicking my diet back into shape post the year end festive feasting.  Now I had to use that walk to kick start my fitness regime.  

So this Spring, I am celebrating Family, Fun and Fitness.  What are you celebrating?

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".