Endoscopy and Stuff~

I went to do endoscopy yesterday because my stomach has been giving me problems again. Mom got really worried that it could be a relapse of Helicobacter Pylori infection or maybe even cancer.

Honestly speaking, the fear of having a tube shoved down your throat into your stomach is really much much worse than actually having a tube shoved down your throat into your stomach.

For all of you who are lucky enough to have not done endoscopy before, or just too lazy to google a picture, here is how an endoscope looks like.

Now imagine having that freaky black thing crammed down your throat.

I was thinking about the thousand bad things that can go wrong (like perforating my tummy or my intestines) and a million Final-Destination-reque freak accidents like they accidentally put too much anesthetic into me and I just die.

Basically, I am pretty much a coward and was really freaked out.

When I was lying on that arm-chair like thingy, I was literally shaking and trembling under the blankie, whether it was from cold or from fear or a mixture of both, I didn't know. Then the nurse plugged this needle into my hand (where they will pour anesthetic into me) taped it there.

I actually did ask the nurse if there was any chance that they would go like ooops and poked a hole right through my tummy. She was like, "Very little chances."

That roughly translates into, "That actually happens."

Damn, you have to give her props for her honesty.

After that, the doctor came in to talk to me before I am knocked out, and this doctor is like teachers: he prefers talking than listening. He was asking me how I am feeling, and before I could reply, he is already nodding his head and going mmmm... so I figured I should keep my answers short or I won't get in any words at all.

So I said, "Pretty nervous."

The nurse was like, "She is seventeen and this is her first endoscopy."

This brings us back to some moment ago, where she actually asked me, "Is this your first endoscopy?"

I half wondered through my trembling brain goo whether there is actually anyone that got addicted to endoscopy, so that they go for one every half a year or something just to have a tube put down their GI tract.

Figured not.

Going back to the doctor and how he prefers talking and nodding as compared to listening, he was like, "So you have some pains in your tummy?"

This "Little Me" inside of me, a.k.a my brain was like doing this very annoyed little head-shake at his assumptions.

I hastened to correct him.

"Not so much of pains, just that after I eat..." (nod, nod) "...I feel really bloated despite eating little and will burp quite a lot..." (nod nod, mmmmm) "...then there is this weird feeling in my tummy..." (here he interrupted me to continue his narrative of my condition, cough cough.)

"Is the pain here?" (indicating somewhere above my belly-button)

"Nope!"

"Hereeeeee~~~?" (indicating all around my belly-button)

"Yeah sort of...you know like this squeezing pain thing?"

He interrupted me again and proceeded to mime squeezing a table cloth, "like this?"

"No no no! Not like that! Maybe more like a hungry feeling right after I eat."

He started nodding (impatiently, my guess is) again and hastened to conclude.

"Well, there are two cases. One is that you can have HP infection (haha harry potter infection -.-) or two, you have some food allergy. So we will check if you have HP, if you don't we will have a food allergy test!"

I was like, "Okie."

Then he took this clear liquid and said that he was about to begin, so the nurse came to me to put this mouth-piece into my mouth to keep it open, and took away my glasses. I felt this really cold liquid flowing into the inside of my hand, felt my blood shiver, replied to some question that the doctor asked, and then I was out cold.

The next thing I woke up to was the nurse ripping the tape off my hand and a dull stinging sensation where the needle had invaded me. My head was still swimming, but thankfully I didn't feel nauseous like the other people said they did. I had some pain in my tummy and that's about it. Okay maybe some stomach cramps.

Yup, so that was endoscopy.

(Shhh, sometimes I wonder if I really had a tube put through me....)

~*~*~

So what I am really annoyed with is that recently, I got really put off by this girl from one of the top JCs around here.

Point is, I barely knew her (smiling politely does not qualify as a "I know her") and she had the audacity to question my privacy.

First she was like, "Has your school started teaching J2 blah blah blah topics?"

I was thinking to myself, hmm well good question. So with all honesty, I was like, "Nope, have you?"

She was like no. So I was like okay, and went back to my work.

A while later, she was like, "Has your school given you all the next year materials?"

This question made me feel rather put off, for one, hello!!! I don't really know you which means that you are not entitled to any (honest) answers. Next, what is with all the "your school, your school, your school" fishing? Why would I tell you anything? Besides her tone was both demanding in a subtle way and oddly annoying.

Still, I answered her politely, "No they didn't, did yours?"

And she was like, "No."

Later again, she was like, "Do you have tuition for every single subject?"

I was so fed up by then that it took every iota of my long bred self control to not push her face into the wall and yell "Get away from meeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!" and I wonder and wonder to myself how in the world did I have such bad luck to ever run into such a nosy but pretending to be cavalier person. Her snobbish tone and questions did nothing to enhance the perfect impression I have of her other school mates I have had the chance to interact with.

Till today when I think about it, I am still fed up. Maybe I am just so narrow in heart that I cannot tolerate that little bit, but whatever. I satisfy in being narrow-hearted.

*~*~

I suddenly felt really annoyed with the printing lady at our school while I was at home.

Allow me to justify my sudden emotions: it was triggered by none other than 2 rather bad experiences with one of them. (The other one is okay.)

So there was this once where I happened to not receive my Biology lecture notes because I don't visit the class bench enough, apparently. The last one Clarissa and I found was crumpled in the recycling bin (hrrrmphs) and Clarissa kept it, so I had to photocopy everything for myself, with the class fund.

Anyways, I went to the print shop to ask the auntie to help photocopy one.

I had one of the most frustrating conversation I ever had.

"Auntie could you please help me photocopy this and bind? Thank you!"

"Why do you need to photocopy this?" (Her tone was gruff and not conversational, oddly)

The last time I checked, she wasn't a undercover cop.

"I didn't receive my notes when the class was giving out, so I have to get one for myself."

"What do you mean you didn't get one! I am sure I gave accurate copies to every class!"

Her voice was getting louder, her tone defensive and agitated and it was starting to get on my nerves. For lord's sake, I didn't even say anything about her not giving enough copies!

"No I am not saying you didn't give enough copies to my class, I am saying that I didn't get one. When they are giving out, I_didn't_get_one." (emphasis on the last part)

See, I am already trying to calm her down by telling her it is not her fault, just that I happened to not get one because like I say, next time I should plant myself at the class bench more often.

"But I gave you all enough!!"

Still agitated, and it was starting to agitate me as well. In my mind, I was like, "Stop! Stop! Stop being so overly defensive and just go and zap the notes already arrrrrghhhhh!!!"

Clarissa and Denyse fidgeted next to me.

"Yes yes I know, I never did imply nor state that you did not give enough. I am saying that I didn't get one okay? Like I didn't receive one so I am photocopying."

I was so close to my boiling point and she has to push it with her next accusation.

"So I didn't do anything wrong and it is your own fault lar."

I really blew up then, internally and it took the last vestiges of my strength to keep the really stiff smile on my face.

"It is not my fault, my class did not give me one. And I never said it was your fault, I am only asking you to photocopy this so that I can have notes. How much is it? I really need to go now."

Yes, right before I scream and yell and become a mad woman.

"Okay, I tell you arh, your own fault so we cannot print the original for you, just photocopy. We stop printing already okay!!"

Goodness gracious, since when did I even ask for an original print? If I did why would I bring Clarissa's notes to her and tell her specifically to "PHOTOCOPY"?

I was so fed up because of numerous reasons. For one, her attitude is really really bad. I don't know why, each time I see her (not the younger one with longer hair), she looks like she is permanently grouching and her tone has never been, in the very least, civil.

Furthermore, I only requested for her to photocopy something, and she could simply do that without questioning me (accusingly) and then bombarding me with questions and accusations while constantly defending herself.

While I understand that she could have been worried that she might have accidentally made a mistake, which she was in such strong denial of, she really could have asked, "Did your class get enough copies?" instead of "I am sure I gave correct number of copies!", when I have never made any implications nor inference that she did otherwise.

Finally, what was with the "original copy"? I was so miffed at that because she made it sound (to everyone else) that I was making things difficult for her by requesting an original copy.

Argh argh argh.

Now I always avoid having to ask her with any help because she likes to sort of glare-stare at me, a lot.

Okay, end of rant, so much better bahahha.

The Measure of One's Existence

I was feeling a little under-appreciated one day and that odd moment had brought me to think more deeply about the value of one's existence.

I mean, sure, we have been told a lot of times that we have to be of value to our country by contributing to it; we have to be of value of our schools; we have to be of value to our society.

But then I realized, not every contribution made would be taken into accounts through recording, and indeed, not every contribution needs to be written down in black and white. It is just that people who are contributing to the society in one way or another, in good ways or in bad ways, in trickles or in floods are dying everyday and almost no one would know about them.

Apart from their family and friends of course, and that brings me to my epiphany that one's existence is very much determined by one's family.

Take me for example. To my school, I am just one student out of the hundreds to thousands; to my country, I am just one citizen out of the several million; to this world, I am even more insignificant, a mere shadow among the 6 billion people.

But to my family, I am priceless.

To my mom, I am her only child, her love and her hope. To my dad, I am the pesky kid of his who always asks him to turn down the volume of the TV because I need to sleep. To the rest of my family, I am a important, irreplaceable member whom they love deeply. We can argue, bicker and get annoyed with each other, but we know that there is no better people to be family members than our own family members. 

Imagine if you were to die one day, what would the rest of the world know?

Maybe your friends will be sad, your best friend sadder, your school acknowledges your death and your nation has really no idea because people die. All the time.

But it is your family who will grieve so long and so hard, remembering every glorious (but now painfully sweet) moment they have spent with you. They will remember your eccentricities and idiosyncrasies that define you. 

They will recall how you refuse to eat carrots and broccoli and how you used a potty till you are six years old. 

They will remember how they spent your past birthdays with you and now devastated because there are no more birthdays left. 

They will remember you as a cheeky, naughty but nonetheless sweet and caring family member whom they were always able to confide in, but now you are not there.

It gets worse for your family as they sit down for dinner and then realized that they took an extra set of utensils because you weren't there anymore.

Then they sit down to watch television after dinner, laughed at a funny part and turning back to see your reaction only to realize that there was no reaction to see. 

It gets bad. It gets so bad because there is this hollow, empty void in their lives where you use to be, and like a bruise, it hurts whenever it is touched. 

Maybe it will get better.

Maybe one day your family can visit your family's favorite restaurant again calmly, but imagine if the waiter you are so familiar with happened to ask,

"Hey, where is _______? Haven't seen him/her for a while."

The smiles will slip a little off their faces, your mom's lips will tremble a little as she looked down while your dad will breathe deeply and tell the poor waiter, "He has gone to a better place."

Human memories are indeed frail. But not when it comes to remembering a person whom they spent decades and decades with, remembering and cherishing, loving and caring for. Every year, without fail, they will remember you and grieve all over again missing you so badly while the rest of the world has long moved on.

Maybe the rest of the world has not even stopped in the first place.

But the time for your family has stopped when you left. Every agonizing moment felt like a million hours to them, it can take years for them to reconcile themselves with reality and move on. 

Sometimes they move on with life, but not from you. They take memories of you with them.

See, that's how you have measured your existence. When someone remembers you, when someone loves you even when you are not here, and when someone truly cares for you. 

If you have had no family or anyone to remember you after you leave this world, it would be like you never existed. 

Like you were never even here.

There are so many regrets in life, some small, some great. But I think the most painful regret is that when you realize that you have not spend enough time with your family or done the things for them when you should have, or simply tell them that you love them and you care for them.

People die far too quickly and far too often, and it is the greatest tragedy that family members leave too quickly too. 

Treasure your family members, love them just as they have loved you. Spend quality time with them. Don't stay angry at each other for too long. Don't stop talking to each other because of one misunderstanding or quarrel. Apologies first even though you have done nothing wrong, I do that, because with family, right and wrong has never been so important. 

Starting with myself, I am going to put down my grudge against my grandmother and my dad and try to embrace them, I will love my extended family more, and love my parents more deeply. I will treasure and cherish my mom and my family, and I hope that all of you will do the same:)

La Riche Directions Dark Tulip Hair Dye!

I haven't had much fun during the holidays so far, so yesterday I decided to dye the bottom half of my hair dark tulip! Remember at the start of the year, Audrey Alyssa gave me the La-Riche Semi-permanent hair dye?

And Audrey did her hair in the same color (just a strand of it) and she blogged about it too, so you all can check it out by clicking her name up there! :D It showed up much much better on hers because her hair was like this light brown shade, super nice, I think!

Dark Tulip La Riche Hair Dye

I picked dark tulip because out of all the colors that were available, I thought that it was the least obvious color out of all of them, and also because I love this kind of purplish-reddish shades hehe.

The color range available

I was originally tempted (like super tempted) to pick a red share like poppy red and stuff, but I decided that I was such a chicken that I wouldn't dare to wear such a color. In fact, I was already contemplating long and hard whether I should use dark tulip, so when I just tried it, I tried it on a very very thing section a the end of my hair!

So, you know, if in case it turns my head into some purple-headed monster I can just like snip! snip! snip! it off before I return to school. 

Tralala anyway, the dying process was semi-horrendous.

The hair dye is a bit like paste, but very smooth.

I wanted to ask mom to do it for me, but her work ends only at like 6 plus, and she would want to rest + eat dinner + rest some more, which means that I cannot get my hair dyed till like 8.30 plus.

And that is decidedly bad because I didn't want to dirty or stain my pillow with my hair dye. Next to my blanket, my pillow must be like the second most important thing to me, bahahaha! You should see my mom's pillow, it is browning from all the hair dye, yuk!

So the first round of dying took me about half an hour, including rinsing all the dye off and stuff, but I decided that the color was awesome since it can't really be seen against my dark brown hair unless I stand in the sun, so I thought the colour would show up more if I redyed the dyed part.

So I dyed the same portion again.

Then I washed all of my hair and showered.

After that I blew dry my hair, and was utterly frustrated because I can't see any red at all, apart from this little tinge at the end of my hair. So I was so annoyed and vexed that my stupidity went into an overload.

I dyed a larger portion of my hair, like bottom half of it, all to dark tulip.

This time it took longer, like almost 45 minutes, and thank god because the hair dye says it needs only 15 minutes before it can be washed off.

After that, I washed and washed and washed and it looked as if my head was bleeding and my hair were bleeding purple-pink blood into the sink (and thank god that Mom wasn't home or she would have throttled me with her bare hands).

And then I toweled it dry and blew it out with hair dryer again. 

End-results

I am actually pretty happy with the hair color, partly because it is not that obvious, which means I wouldn't have to actually cut the entire length of my hair off when I am going back to school, and it also means that I won't get looks of disgust from any HC facilitators when I am attending HC THIMUN next week. 

On top of that, the bottom half of my hair looks like it is sort of reddish-purplish-violet under the sun, which is now officially my favorite color heeee.

But in all honesty, because my hair is dark brown so the coloring turned out to be not dark tulip but like the rubine shade (see above picture).

Not that it makes it any less awesome. :D

The only bad thing was that now one side of my neck is still slightly colored, and also my nails and yesterday my fingers and palm are like reddish-purple. Most of it came off, but some are here to stay. For a while.

Looked like I made a suicide attempt. Hee

Plan for the next months? Dye the top of my hair dark tulip too! I still have like 3/4 to about 2/3 of the dye left and it can be kept for one month.

The other best thing about La-riche hair dye is that it doesn't feel like it damaged my hair at all. In fact, the dyed part is now shinier and smoother than the undyed parts. Basically the dye is like this conditioner thing that you smear on after shampooing your hair, which is pretty cool in my opinion :D

I have included some pictures of those who also did their hair in dark tulip, and theirs is far far more obvious than mine!

weheartit.com

itsallaboutbeauty.co.uk

www.theglitterthread.com

I think to get that color, we have the bleach the hair/ lighten with hydrogen peroxide, which the La-Riche website also sells, but I don't want and don't dare to bleach my hair oh gosh. So uh I shall remain blissfully happy with my tinted hair hehe. :D

Okay, that's all for now, bye!

New Header

I changed my blog's banner!

I found this image via google search, and whoever that made this beautiful borders, thank you so much!

Now that the holidays are here, it means that I am going to finally have some time to blog!

Point is that...I can't remember how to blog hahaha.

I guess I will take a while to remember again! :D

If I Could Tell You - W.H. Auden

Time will say nothing but I told you so
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

There are no fortunes to be sold, although,
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you I would let you know.

The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reason why the leaves decay;
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

Suppose the lions all get up and go,
And the brooks and soldiers run away;
Will Time say nothing but I told you so?
If I could tell you I would let you know.

by: W.H. Auden

We Can Be

[We Can Be]

We can be blind, eyes open but unseeing.
We can be deaf, aware but not heeding.
A little part of us is biased,
A little more afraid, we realized,
things don't always go as we say.

Far too often, I witness without seeing,
blinded by my own doubts and perhaps even —
anxieties.
Too worried to ask, far too afraid to have my
deepest doubts proven. Right.

We can be writers, each portraying our own
Characters,
fashioned after people we think we know.
We can imagine too much, and know too little.
We can be far too creative and way too unrealistic.

We need to wake up earlier,
look out of our own world more often, and for once,
not fantasize but understand.
Bleak skies, black diamonds, queen of hearts
A scene of dark, sinful black.

Far too often, we stare at crows and wonder,
"Thou ugly beasts! Foulest creatures!"
And even more common is for us to forget,
that the crow had never wanted to be black.
We can be darker than the darkest shade of crow feathers.

Giving up

Okay, I have honestly, fully given up.

I know I haven't been exactly likable and amicable, but hey, give the devil its due. I have been trying and trying and tolerating and giving in and trying to swallow everything, but man I am giving up.

From today on, I am not going to make myself likable.

If you like me as a friend, great, I like you too.

If you don't, then please don't. Don't stress yourself liking me, nor stress yourself hating me. I cannot be bothered any further.

I should have been born as a plant. Ughs.

Laters, going to do PW now.

Trees Bleed

Trees Bleed

I suppose you never knew this,
but trees bleed,
And all their hurt, you cannot see.
Because outside, trees are silent, brave and stoic

I once saw a bleeding tree,
with it bark torn deep,
I caressed its wound and could -
almost hear it weep.

I sat beside that tree,
whom is thought by the world could never hurt.
For they in their blindness,
pompously assume- what does not show, does not feel.

I pitied the tree,
for in its silence, I saw a semblance of me.
Perhaps once, the tree had laughed and sung and cried,
But then lies were breathed; knives drawn, trunks hacked.

Perhaps then, the tree folded itself
into its realm of silence: still, gaunt, unmoving;
ostensibly strong against the lashing storm,
an emblem of strength and tenacity.

Me and my tree, we sat like past and present,
on the edge of the hubbub of everything,
overlooking serpentine crowds, hidden daggers and sweet poison,
branch in hand, both incarcerated by a distant pain.

Alright alright, I get it.

I am worthless because I am fat and everything, you have drilled that into my head enough.

I am very well aware of that already, thanks so much.

In the midst of all my stress, we just have to be a little ray of sunshine and crash what little self-esteem I have, isn't that right?

These conflicting mentalities frustrate me to tears.

I get it okay, I am fat!

So now it begs the question, so what?

Leave me and my fats alone, in peace.

Because I May Die

Because I May Die

Death, the morbidity of it
Haunts me like a sickening shroud.
Never had I given it a second thought.
But I may die, and I am scared to die.

I am afraid to die before I tell you things,
I am afraid that the infinite days will be shortened to a mere few.
I am afraid that I would be selfish and hold on
when I should really be letting go.

If I am going to die, if fate condemns me to death,
then at least let me die pretty. Just once.
I had never been pretty, but if I were to die,
I would take a break to pursue it.

How can I love safely, calmly
Peacefully
In the finite days of mine.