Daddy’s best!

These days the events I blogged about are pretty backdated, typed only when I truly have the time or energy to plonk myself in front of my ramshackle Compaq.

Anyway, the other day a colleague commented that underneath my tan, there seems to be more brown than yellow, which prompted her to ask if I have any mixed blood heritage somewhere up in my family tree.

And as how fashionably coincidence works (actually I bugged my parents) I recently found out that indeed, somewhere way up in the ancestry branch we had some javanese blood. After a meagre calcuation, I guesstimated that I possess a possible 3% (OMG. THREE PER CENT! Am I supposed to be in utter shock?) of Javanese blood, amongst other common ancestry roots from Malaysia and China. FWAH.

(Self-mockery, heh.)

Then again, is that really the reason behind my not so fair skin? Trivial food for thought on a friday night. This happens when your boss is invited to a F1 party and there are not enough invitations to bring you along. Hmpf.

Last weekend, there was a major wedding so the entire team was tasked to help out. A few of us helped out for both Saturday and Sunday, which was church blessing/hi-tea and wedding dinner (hotel) respectively. The newlyweds will not be making up for the bulk of this entry even though the bride was SO SO SO PRETTY, truly bringing the word ‘beauty’ to life, even without make-up per se. ANYWAY, there were a lot of standing and walking around for both days; but at the end of the first day my feet were feeling quite alright, and I even met Jim and Ying for dinner. Little did I know Sunday will be hellish for my feet!

Absolutely inhumane feet-torturing heels! Perfect for looking good, but totally inept for shows! Quoting Fen, I’m not quite sure if those feet were mine towards the end of the day. The strain were all at my toes, and it was so bad (I’m not exaggerating) the parts of my feet from my lower ankle to my toe cracks were flushed – I suppose it’s a sign of TOO MUCH blood flow towards the toes for an overly long period my feet not accustomed to (we were standing and moving around for 13hrs straight), at least for me!

Was limping and moaning in pain when I got home (image to maintain in public) and my mum who was awake “thoughtfully” dragged my sleeping dad up at frigging 1am+ because I was fantasizing about soaking my sore feet in a pail of HOT water. During my shower, daddy actually woke up (I am not all that surprised; my dad’s a good man), boiled the kettle of water, waited for it to boil, pour it into the bucket and mixed the temperature perfectly for my sore feet.

And while goner-me was having the absolute shiokness feet therapy, dad prepared a mug of hot Milo for me upon hearing that I have not had food since 2pm. No instant noodles because it was by then close to 2am, and therefore unhealthy. Aww.. how can I not love my dad? How can I not compare my future man to my dad? How can OB tease me when I say I want my future man to be on par, if not as good, as my dad?

Even though my dad is illiterate and probably don’t earn as much money as most people, not to mention don’t know how to save up, does not speak good english, is very dark (from working since the age of 8/10) and not too tall (but a suave young man!), is getting old, losing hair and has a super oily face – he loves the family in his own ways and with everything that he has; everyone who knows him says he is a good worker, good man, good husband, good father, and a good grandfather for the last eight years and counting, which by the way, is more than enough to prove my point. I don’t even have to go into the nitty grittys.

And for that, he is also an airy fairy who gets bullied and/or taken for granted by some people! I do not allow that to happen, just because you are elderly does not give you the right to manipulate or stop me from hitting sense into you. You are not entitled to my dad’s goodness if you don’t deserve it. Just because he does not stand up to you does not mean you can continue to step all over him! One more time, I will go straight to your wife! HMPFFFFFFF.

For the record, and in case you do not know, I am dubbed by UG the GOGM (pronounced gomng) aka Goddess of Good Memory, and therefore whatever you have done I remember, and I will bear them in mind for a long time. Oh, I am an occasional malicious Scorpio as well. Just so you know. Yepp.

Other than that, I am a harmless sheep and I love my family, friends and ipod. And my job! Love love.

Wishing for his pink of health

Last week has been pretty hellish, emotional wise.

Dad complained of chest pains for the past few days, but pushed away the idea of visiting the doctor until he got worried himself. We have initially thought the pain stemmed from his “pu zua” but since it lasted for a tad long, I suggested he visit the doctor. If it turned out to be nothing too worrying, at least we know for sure.

So Dad went to the polyclinic on Monday, and was referred to SGH on the same day. He was warded eventually, and kept under observation as the doctors couldn’t determine the cause of the pain. A series of tests (blood tests, x-ray and scanning of the heart) has to be conducted to ensure the pain wasn’t signs of a heart attack or blocked arteries. This shocked me since I thought the referral was only routine.

I rushed down shortly after work, and was informed that Dad would most likely be discharged before the end of the day. After the tests results were out, we were told everything was normal; we can prepare for home sweet home after the doctor conducts the final check. Following the check, however, the doctor called in the cardiologist, told me I may have to leave first and they’ll need to keep my Dad for the night! They heard murmurs from his heart and gonna get the cardiologist to verify if it’s anything threatening (Dad has had a tiny ‘hole’ in his heart since young, but somehow not documented on his medical history) before they can release him from observation. So with trepidation still, I dragged my feet home at twelve midnight.

I got a rude shock the next morning when Dad called and informed us that he wasn’t going to be discharged, but instead, the cardiologists were going to transfer him to the National Heart Centre ward for further examinations. As one of my colleagues was on medical leave, I could only visit him after work around 9pm. For the entire day at work, I was worried sick, and at one point in time, couldn’t control my emotions and started weeping silently in front of the PC. Meanwhile, on MSN, Sis had to console me and cheer me on about keeping positive, and reassured me it’s anything but life-threatening..etc. As soon as work ended, I fled like my ass was on fire, caught a cab soonest and rushed down to SGH (it was a cheap cheap $5) Seeing Dad with the stupid needles jabbed into his wrinkled arm was so saddening It’s prolly psychological, but it seems he lost some weight two days into his hospitalization!

On a side note, Ag’s crying was in ratio to Dad’s hospitalization, somewhere near 2:1. He would cry in the day when Dad calls home from the ward, and cry again when we are going back after each visitation. Sometimes, he would tell us he wept in school, or during his recess. Hah. So endearing, no wonder Dad loves him most!

On Wednesday, the cardiologists are not releasing my Dad yet. FURTHER examinations needs to be conducted still (sometimes I wonder how much further? It’s further examination each day!) and as per the norm, Ag shed a tear or two when we left for the night. Ay.

Dad called me when I was on the way to work on Thursday, saying he could be discharged in the noon, like finally! So I rushed down during lunch to do the necessary and got a cab for Dad before I went back to the office. Thank the almighty god that everything looks fine for now, except for the fact they now claimed that my Dad has got high cholesterol and has to practise some abstinence from certain foods!

And the conclusion after all those tests and scans? Uncertain.

Following so many blood tests and heart scans, they are STILL unable to ascertain the cause of the pain in my dad’s chest/heart. Based on their super professional deductions, the pain may have stemmed from aches of his heart muscles OR some gastric problems. WTF? muscle aches? gastric? How is it possible that it caused my dad such friggin’ pain? I questioned the doctor about it, but the only thing they can assure us was that all scans and blood tests showed negative results, and there wasn’t any signs of a heart attack nor blocked arteries, which was of course a good sign for us.

I’m still baffled though. Shall heed the doctor and dietician’s advice to let my dad take the prescribed pills, and see how it goes from there. Scope test scheduled for next Wed to check the internal heart area, another further examination they say. Follow up review two weeks later, crossing my fings. Everything be well. Like I said, I’ll trade in my cheap life for his good health, anytime! So long Dad’s well.