Pet Pet Pet

Few years ago an Irish tourist was bitten by Rottweilers while walking in a fruit orchard in Penang. She died of massive bleeding.

Two days ago a guy was attacked by few Rottweilers while walking near a fish pond. He survived with 120 stitches in his body. The victim said that he was helpless and horrified when one of the dogs actually bit and ATE and CHEW his flesh...!!! I couldn't imagine it..

In the first case : the dogs were "put to sleep" and the owner was fined.

While I symphatize with the victims, I also pity the dogs. They were doing their duties to "guard" their owners's properties. I felt bad that they had to be put to sleep. But they were too dangerous to be left with irresponsible owners.

Rottweilers are not for everyone and they shouldn't be let loose outside without leash. Anyone who is thinking about having a Rottweiler as a pet should know and practice a very strict monitoring on the dog.

A lot of people taking pets without thinking it's consequences. I am not talking only Rottweiler... I am also talking about other pets such as little dogs, cats, fish, monkeys, and other animals.

I used to have cats who came to my house, had some gatherings in my tiny gardens and did their "big and small businesses" there, leaving horrible stench everyday. My poor maid had to clean the garden everyday, wearing mask and gloves...

I tried all kind of cat repellents, from gel, spray, granules, and Powder. I spend hundreds of ringgit every month trying to get rid of the cats. I even tried stupid silly things like making something like a scarecrow and put it on the tree. I google "ways to keep cats out of your garden" and followed almost everything. I sprinkled crushed black peppercorns on the soil, I put wires around the gates, I even poured kerosene around the garden..! I knew it might be dangerous but I was so desperate... I just couldn't take it anymore.

I didn't know where those cats came from. I asked my immediate neighbors who had cats. He said his cats didn't go out and do their business outside. They were trained to do it in the sand box at home. Everybody said that... Nobody was responsible..

Finally my maid came up with brilliant idea... She took 100 gr of bird's eye chillies, pound them, poured water on it and sprayed the water on the garden. It worked magic.... The cats stopped coming to our house. It becomes our ritual, spraying the garden with liquid chillies once a week.

My point here.... Pet owners should not let their pets roaming outside their houses. Sharing is good, but this kind of sharing is really irritating..

Having a pet is a big responsibility..... Not only to the pet itself but responsibility to the public too. Make sure the pet is leashed when it is out of the house. And please.... Don't bring your dogs or cats into malls, they don't care about the sale at Zarra or the latest model of Coach... Leave them at home...

"I don't know....." is good

I grew up visiting Gynecologists almost on monthly basis since I was 10 years old. I had gone to Indonesian, Chinese, Korean, American, Malaysian and Singaporean Gynecologists trying to understand what was wrong with my body. I tried traditional Indonesian herbs, western pills, traditional Chinese herbs, massages, and few other things to cure this thing.

It took me 14 doctors and 21 years to finally find the problems and fix it.

For male readers, my apology... Today's write ups may not be for you but I think it may be useful if you have sisters, wives or girlfriends who have problems with their reproductive organs.

I had irregular periods. Most Gynecologists I visited told me not to worry too much as I only had some cysts in my ovaries. Sometimes I had my period very light, sometimes I didn't have any period for a year, sometimes I bled profusely until I had to be rushed to Emergency room.
So, it baffled me when the Gynecologists told me not to worry about this coz I was worried sick when I was stuck in freezing-cold ER for few hours with piles of ice packs on my belly.

When I reached early twenties, few Gynecologists told me that I might not be able to have children. At that time I didn't like children. Having seen horrific restaurant events where children ran around screaming and finally vomiting their meals on the floor, I found them to be annoying creatures. So when I was told that I might not have children, I was cool... It didn't effect me at all except when I had serious relationship.... when I thought I would marry the guy. I would tell him that I might not be able to give him children. As I wrote earlier, I had few failed relationships. Some of them were contributed by this. When I told my (ex) boyfriends about my conditions, some started to avoid me, some said we could adopt and some even said we could get dogs.

When I told my husband the facts about my reproductive malfunctions, he told me we could either adopt or spend the rest of our lives just the two of us, traveling without excess baggages.

Everywhere I lived, I had to have a trusted gyne. So when I moved here, searching for a gyne was my top priority. I tried more than 3 gynes here who also told me that I had cysts and nothing could be done about it except taking pills to "force" my period to come out.

One night I was driving the Damansara area when I saw a woman clinic opened until 9pm. It was perfect for me coz I could go there after work so I didn't need to take a day off work.

When I went there, I met Dr. Collin Lee. After listening to my medical history and had my USG scan, he told me, "I don't know what's wrong with you."

He was the first and the only gynecologist who told me "I don't know"

But then he was the one who gave me my two "miracle daughters"

Because he didn't know, he did further tests. I was put into so many tests and I had my first laparoscopy, a procedure where a mini camera was inserted into my body to "see" the condition of my organs clearer. He also performed a biopsy, taking liquid and tissue samples from my uterus.

Finally he found out what's wrong with me, put me in 1-year treatment program and performed 2 DDNC procedures. Throughout those years, he always said, "We will try our best."

My first daughter was conceived naturally two months after the last DDNC. Both Dr. Collin and I never expected this. We thought I would need to try IVF to have babies. After the delivery of my first daughter, my period has been very punctual... No more pills, no more injections, no more monthly trip to gynecologist.

Two years later, my second daughter was conceived.

It all started with "I don't know"

How many times were we too scared or too embarrassed to say "I don't know" when we were unsure?

A lot of narrow minded people think saying I don't know means admitting stupidity.

Our world is huge... So many things to see, so many things to learn.... It's impossible to know everything.. yet so often I heard people said,"I know everything, no need to learn."

To me, learning is a lifelong experience.... I learnt from my trusted gynecologist that a simple and humble "I don't know" has made him one of the most influential Gynecologists and Fertility experts in Malaysia. His small clinic has grown into a public listed company and he was conferred a datukship (similar to a "Sir" in England) few years ago.

I also learnt that it pays to get a second, third, or even fourteenth (Dr. Collin Lee was my 14th gynecologist I visited in 20 years) opinion when we are not sure about something.

If it weren't for the "I don't know", I wouldn't be able to survive my daughters's nonstop challenging questions of "why". They ask me at least 5 why's a day.. And I often have to answer, "I don't know..... let's find out."

Mend my broken heart...

I fell in and out of love so many times. Every time I had a serious relationship, I always thought "this is the one" until few months or years after that we started arguing, feeling bored with each other, finding faults, getting irritated of small tiny unimportant things or avoiding each other.

No matter how many times my heart was broken, how many gallons of tears shed, how many painful memories made and how many tequila I swallowed to reduce the pain, I could never reduce the pain of broken heart. People say "practice makes it better" but I think it's not true for broken heart.

Although the experiences didn't reduce the pain of broken heart, they have taught me a lot of things:
1. I learnt that the first few months of the relationship is the best time. I would smile just thinking about him. I could really be super slim coz I didn't need to eat... Seriously, love alone could make me full... I skipped my meals just to hear his voice or just to be with him. I didn't feel hungry at all.... A very weird thing for me who eat even when I don't feel hungry.

2. No matter how the boyfriend looked, the first few months he could easily beat Brad Pitt or George Clooney. At that time, I could find a lot of things that made him beautiful and handsome. I really learnt that "beauty is at the eye of the beholder" is really true.

3. I think "Nothing's gonna change my love for you" is totally bullsxxx!! and overused. If I fall in love with another guy, will he still love me? Of course not...!! If I hate his mother and always break her heart, will he still love me? Of course not...! If he said he would, then I would not want to have him as my husband anyway...

4. Opposite attract is amusing in the beginning but after awhile it's more fun to have someone who enjoys the same thing like I do, even the simplest thing like eating spicy food. I love spicy food but there were times that I had to settle ordering non-spicy food all the time for the sake of accommodating my ex. At the end I used it as a weapon when we argued by saying that I sacrificed for him... Which now I find it very immature and selfish.

5. No matter how many times I told my self I didn't want to fall in love again so I wouldn't get hurt, I still did... Falling in love is not something that I can plan... It just happens.

6. I believe that if it's meant to be then no matter what happens, it will happen.

7. I strongly believe that I have to use my heart AND my brain in any relationship. Love alone can blind a person for awhile but once the lust and passion simmer, the relationship may not be that beautiful anymore.

8. Bad breath and body odor combined is the ultimate #1 turn off factor. No matter how handsome, how rich or how romantic a guy is, if I could smell a mixture of durian, belachan and blue cheese oozing from his pores, I would just run as fast as I could. Because of this I learnt that look and money are not that important....!!!

Actually there are more things I learnt from failed relationships but the point I am trying to make is, no matter how bad the broken heart is, after awhile it will heal and we can learn something from it.

It's better to have loved and hurt than to never have loved at all... What do you think?

A fine young man.... Gone too soon

I've never met him. He didn't even know that I existed. But I felt like I've known him all my life. I cried when he was in pain. I smiled when he wrote funny things. And today.... I cried and cried and cried..... He went back home to God leaving beautiful memories to those who know him.

Rheza Christian struggled against Alveolar Soft Part Sarcoma, a very rare cancer that ate his bones. He lost his arms, his legs and his freedom to breath, walk, and sing. Despite of his difficulties, he didn't complain to God... He was still grateful that he was blessed with friends and families who loved and supported him throughout his fight against cancer.

With his blog, he made hundreds of people smile, laugh, and cry. He had inspired me to be a stronger person, to be grateful for my arms, my feet, my lungs, my eyes, my overweight body, my sagging skin and even my house chores..

He lived a shorter life than mine, he was only 29 hrs old, but he surely had taught me more about life. Even during his last months, he still wrote and twitted, inspiring his followers to live life to the fullest.

I started blogging coz I got a bit bored with my new life as a housewife. He blogged because he really wanted his friends to change their views about lives, to appreciate every small little things in lives, to live life to the fullest, to ignore minor irritations, to love our parents, to know that God is the boss, and all other good things that make our lives richer.

It's too late for me to say thank you to him.

The only thing I can do to honor him is by asking the readers of this blog to pay a visit to   http://gayot.posterous.com/ or to google his name and read his write ups in his facebook.

Rest in peace Rheza... May God bless your soul...

The age of innocence

It's Friday morning and I am taking a break from my housework of washing dishes, doing laundry and ironing... so this blog will be short and light.

We went to Nadine's friend birthday party last month. The mother rented inflatable slide, gigantic jumping castle, two clowns, and an event organizer for the party. Judging from the amount of food, party packs, party props, and the decoration in the house, I was sure that she must have expected at least 50 kids.

The party supposed to be from 2-5pm. I was a bit late, arriving around 3pm, and found out that Nadine was the only friend who had arrived. Half an hour after I chatted with the host, few more kids arrived. At 4pm, the party started with 6 kids. I felt so sorry for the host... I was sure she expected more than that but sometimes things just didn't happen as expected. The fact that she didn't put any phone number for RSVP on the invitation card contributed to the inaccuracy of the guest numbers.

But despite of just having 6 kids, the party was really fun... Everybody had good laughs looking at how the kids were so innocent, answering and doing hilarious things the clown asked them to do:

The clown started the party by asking the kids their names and where they came from. The first kid reply, "My name is Adam and I come from my mommy's tummy." We just burst... The clown didn't give up...

He asked the boy,"Adam, where do you live?".

Then Adam answered, " I live in a house."

"Where is your house?" added the clown.

Adam replied, "Next to my grandma's house."

The clown gave up....

Then the clown asked the kids to line up, put on some fancy shawls on their shoulders and asked them to do the catwalk. All 6 kids, boys and girls, bent on their knees, started crawling and do "meow meow..." LOL.... The clown really unexpected this... We had a good laugh...!

Then time for games.  The clown asked the kids to give him 50 cents. The fastest kid who can give him 50 cents would get a present. One kid quickly put his hand inside his trouser and gave RM1 to the clown.  The clown told the kid, " I wanted 50 cents NOT 1 Ringgit."  The kid said, " Yes, you can give me back 50 cents."

That kid must be a math wizard... He outsmarted the clown.

Here's what I learnt from the party:

1. To always put RSVP number on the invitation card.

2. Kids are really amazing, they can turn simple things into laughters.  Sometimes we don't really need fancy bouncing castle, inflatable slides or other props to have fun.  People are the ones who make a party fun.. not the hardware.

3.  To try my best to attend every invitation I get.... It's such a sad thing when your guests do not turn up on your party.  Sometimes we get a bit carried away... We expect people to come to our party but when we are invited, sometimes we skipped the invitation... I am guilty of this.. I promise to try harder, to make time attending invitations wherever it is.

Thank you for reading my blog and have a great weekend....:)

Spread the eggs...

I heard and said it a hundred times and I had probably applied it more than ten times : Don't put all your eggs in one basket.

In terms of investment, I did it. I spread the little wealth I have in cash, stocks, and property. In terms of love, I spread the abundant love I have to my family, my relatives, my friends, my neighbors, and some deserving strangers. In terms of food choices, it's definitely widely spread. Imagine if I put all my passion only in Asian food.... I won't enjoy traveling anywhere outside my comfort zone.

But after so much said and done... sometimes I still forget to keep doing it in every aspect of my life.

Last weekend my family spent a nice 5-day holiday in Bangkok with my in-laws. We went to the amazing Safari world, shopped at the malls, had relaxing massages, and dined scrumptious seafood and Thai food. But the much anticipated trip was going to Jatujak market or JJ market as the locals call it. It only opens on weekends and has everything under the sun, from funky clothes, furniture, bags, perfumes, plates, cutleries, food, to pets... Yes, it has traders selling cute puppies and kittens. All sold at very reasonable prices.

While my husband took care of the kids at the hotel swimming pool, my in-laws and I braved the heat and Bangkok traffic jam to go to JJ market. We shopped like mad women let loose from the mental institution for the first time, ignoring breakfast and lunch, hopping from one shop to another . We just had some snacks in between our shopping spree. After more than 6 hours melting under the heat of zinc roofs, finally we called for a break... We decided to have a few minutes before going to the household section.

To us, break means finding a bench to sit down and check on our handphones. To my relief, I got no SMS and no missed call, meaning my kids were alright and my husband did an excellent job entertaining them.

When my sister-in-law checked her handphone, she noticed that her bag had a big hole. Someone had slashed her bag and took her wallet. She had all her money there plus credit cards, ATM cards, ID card and driving license. We made a police report and apparently it happens all the time there, just like in any other tourist spots anywhere in the world.

At that time, we were reminded again not to put everything in one basket. My mother-in-law and I started to rearrange things inside our bags. I spread my cash and credit cards, I put some in the handbag, some in my jeans pocket , and some in the shopping bags. We were so paranoid that we did some silly stuffs by putting our cash in the candy canister and inside the pocket of the our newly-purchased clothes. Luckily we didn't put it under our bras, like the old indonesian women used to do. Can't imagine the face of the shopkeeper when we took the money from the bra..... LOL

But on the second thought, maybe I should.... Who knows the shopkeeper will give away d goods for free in exchange of the yucky sweat-drench money from the bra..

Anybody dare to try...?

Old Kebaya

My mother had always bought new clothes for Chinese New Year when I was young.  She said it's a MUST to wear something new for Chinese New Year.  During that time nobody wore cheong sam (Chinese traditional dress) for Chinese New Year in Indonesia.  The previous government banned everything chinese in the country so our CNY celebration was only at home, having family lunches wearing new dress or pants or even new jeans while waiting for ang pao (red pocket money). After CNY, we would wear our "new CNY clothes" like any other normal clothings.

My mother-in-law also has the tradition of buying new clothes for Hari Raya Idul Fitri.  She usually takes her grandchildren for shopping spree weeks before Hari Raya.  I started going to my tailor months before Hari Raya.  It's a custom in Malaysia to wear traditional clothes during Hari Raya. While men wear Baju Melayu, women can wear either Kebaya or Baju Kurung. 

This is the typical Baju Melayu worn by Malaysian men

 Baju Kurung

The Kebaya

I like to wear Kebaya instead of Baju Kurung because I always had my baju kurung loose-long sleeves accidently dipped into curry gravy or rendang.  I still haven't mastered the art of wearing baju kurung without dirtying its sleeves or skirt. 

Malaysians celebrate Hari Raya Idul Fitri for one whole month.  We will have a full month of "open houses" where friends and relatives visit each other's houses for breakfast, lunch or dinner.  Companies will book hotel ballrooms to host open houses for their employees and clients.  Because of this, I have to have at least 3 or 4 Kebaya on standby. 

So, every year I would ask my tailor to make 3-4 Kebayas. 

Unlike normal clothes that I wear during Chinese New Year, after Hari Raya celebration is over, I hardly wear my Kebaya anymore.  I am a jeans-and-t-shirt kinda girl so the only time I wear my Kebaya is when I have to go for weddings, which at this age, I seldom get any wedding invitation anymore.  Most of our friends are married (or decided not to get married) and it's too early to get invitation for friend's children's wedding.

After 8 years of Hari Raya in Kuala Lumpur, I was stuck with a lot of kebayas that I rarely use.  I don't want to throw them away because I still need them once in a while.  The Kebayas occupy too much space in my small closet. 

Since I couldn't make my closet bigger and I couldn't throw the kebayas, I told myself not to buy or make new kebayas for Hari Raya.  If I have to buy, maybe buy only 1 piece, just to participate in the festive mood and to contribute to the economy cycle. I decided to just reuse the old kebayas (which I wore max 3 times each).

Initially I was a bit uncomfortable wearing previous years' kebaya.  But I think my decision was well justified.  Let me tell you the reasons:

1. NOBODY noticed that I wore the kebaya that I had worn 4-8 years ago.  Kebaya has the classic and everlasting style so there is no "out-of season" kebaya.

2. I save the space in my closet.

3. I don't need to waste time going back and forth to the tailor to make the kebayas.  I have to go to the mall, stuck in traffic jam, find parking, and buy the fabrics.  Then go to the tailor, stuck again in the jam, find parking again, have the tailor measure my ever-changing body size.  After 2 weeks, I have to go back again to the tailor for fitting, another round of driving and parking.  Then after another week, I have to pick up the kebayas... again... another round of traffic jam and parking hassle.   Imagine how many hours I used to spend for that. I got tired just reading this no 3 reason..!

4. I save some money.  Tailor-made kebaya is much more expensive than the ready-made but since I don't have an ideal model body, I could never find any ready-made kebaya that fit me.

5. I can contribute a little bit to the environment by polluting less (eliminate the CO2 emission from my driving back and forth in the attempt of getting the new kebayas) and reducing the waste from clothes  (Reuse, Reduce and Recycle)

6. It makes me feel super good... coz I can still fit into my old kebaya...! Either I had a great tailor who could make my kebaya fit my enlarged body or my enlarged body is actually not that large..:)

7. It motivates me to keep my body size in check. 

So... the secret is out.... I am wearing my old recycle kebayas for Hari Raya. 

We are not normal

I was always confused on who I was when I was a little girl.  In fact, I believe most of Indonesian Chinese were, growing up in a place where they felt like they were second class citizens all the time.  Our homes were never homes to us.  Our ancestors were immigrants who came to Indonesia to seek better living.

I never thought that I really belong to "one particular group".

In Indonesia, the country I love dearly, the place I was born and grew up... I am not really considered the true blue Indonesian.  I am a "tionghoa", a term Indonesians use to call Indonesian Chinese. Indonesian Chinese is never considered as one of the ethnic groups.  I am not a "pribumi" (a term for the real Indonesian).

If I were to go to China and live there... The Chinese will also never consider me as one of them.  For them, I am "Ing Nie Hua Chiao" which is a term for Chinese who are not originally from China, but from Indonesia.  The fact that I don't speak Mandarin (or any other dialects) and I don't eat monkey brain even confirm that I can't be the real Chinese.

So, I really don't belong in either country.  I never feel that I have equal rights with the "real citizens" of any country.

Fortunately someone invented the word "globalization" which made me feel that I am a real true blue citizen.. Not of a particular country, but as the citizen of the earth.

But how can I explain this globalization to my daughters?  When Amber, my eldest daughter was 4 years old, she had already felt that she was different, she didn't belong to any particulart group. 

One day, coming back from school, she looked so sad and asked me,"Mommy, what am I?"

I was taken back.. At that time I really didn't know what to answer. It came as a total surprise to have a 4-year old ask me that question.

She said that in school, her friends told her that she was not a Malay because she had Chinese mother.  But her Chinese friends also told her that she was not Chinese because her father is Malay and she is a Muslim.  Poor little girl.... at such a young age, she had to choose to be in a group where she would always be different from the rest of the group members.

I told her that she is not really Malay and not really Chinese, she is just special.  A 4-year old didn't really understand what special was... She said,"I don't want to be special, I just want to be normal"

My heart ached when she said that.  That's exactly the feeling that I had always wanted to feel... To be normal.

Since I can't afford to send my daughters to international schools, the least I can do for them is to expose them to kids from mixed race marriages.  I am sure some kids with parents of different races also feel the same way as my daughters. I remember one day, Amber and Nadine told me two of their friends were exactly like them, they have Chinese mothers and Malay fathers.  They were so happy at that time, finding out that they are not that "weird".

I have accepted the fact that I can't never be a normal citizen.. I learn to embrace the fact that I am special.

I hope my daughters will soon feel the same way.  In today's world, normal is boring.... Everybody wants to be special... I hope they will realize it soon.

A month of "real housewife of KL"

My maid, Inem,is going back to her hometown this Monday. She will be spending her Hari Raya holiday with her family at Central Java for 1 whole month.

She has been with our family since my eldest daughter was 1 month old. Prior to that she worked for my mother in Bandung for 8 years. So practically she's been with us for 16 years plus..! How time flies...

I am very fortunate to have her helping me coping with my houseworks and my children's well beings. Every 2 years she would go back to her hometown for 1 month. In between, she also went back with me to Bandung during holidays. From Bandung she would take 11 hour bus trip to her hometown for a week or so.

No matter how often I was left without her, the feeling is still the same... I am totally loss without her..!!

By western standard, I am super spoiled... but by Indonesian standard, I am a bit deprived of "maids" as most of Indonesian households have 2-3 maids.

A lot of my friends thought my Inem must be super smart, hard working and efficient, so good as she is close to be a Supermaid.

Well, let me tell you something... She is NOT.

Same thing with her friends, who are also working as maids for my neighbours, they think that Inem is so lucky to have a perfect employer.

Well, she will tell you the same thing... I am NOT.

We have our differences...

She forgot a lot of things, she had her bad mood days (which made her accidently shouted at me), she turned some of my white clothes pink, she burnt my trousers, she broke a lot of glasses and bowls, she spoiled my cheeses by leaving them in the cupboard instead of fridge, etc etc..

I got irritated, I was forgetful, I didn't tell her proper directions to do things, I made her upset, I made her work beyond her working hours when I invited people having dinners at my house, I woke her up 2am when my babies threw up, etc etc..

But somehow, we understand each other... Although sometimes we made each other upset.. We both know that inside, we do care for each other. 

We understand that we both are not perfect.. we have our flaws and we accept them.

So, this writing is my tribute to Inem, who will never read this blog.  Because even before she is gone, I have already missed her... The thought of doing piles of laundry, ironing (i really hate ironing), washing dishes, gardening, vacuuming, mopping, etc.., have been haunting me for the past 1 week..

So, for the next one month : my kitchen will be closed, my house will be messy, my mood will be unpredictable and my insanity will be tested.

Let's see what kind of craps I will write in my next blog...

Have a happy weekend...!

Never say never

I thought I could never do it

I tried all kinds of slimming programs, from Atkins diet, liquid diet, juice diet, food combining diet, southbeach diet, etc etc.. All worked for awhile and I would definitely come back to my eating spree.  I just couldn't do those diet for more than two weeks, some even for a few days..

So when I had to fast for the first time.. I knew I could never do it, I knew I would never last more than a week, and I knew I would give up.  I was terrified when fasting month was coming...

My muslim friends and relatives told me to recite the "niat" or "purpose" before I started fasting.  They said it helped a lot.. I didnt believe them but since it's a requirement, I did it anyway.  I recited my "niat" the night before the fasting month.

First day : morning was not so bad coz I was not a breakfast person.  I skipped breakfast most of the time.  But when the time hit 12.30 the hunger started to kick in.  I tried to ignore it and surprisingly after half an hour the hunger dissappeared.  Then thirst and headache came around 4pm.  But since I was working and needed to finish up few things on that day, I didn't have time to entertain them.  By the time I needed to leave the office at 5.30, time went so fast.  I had to rush driving home and buying food.  In no time at all I heard the adzan, the call for prayer.. the time to break the fast.

First thing I did was drinking a glass of cold water.  It was the best tasting water I had ever tasted.  I was amazed on how little I ate that day despite of not having breakfast and lunch.  I broke my fast with 2 dates, popiah, porridge and a piece of kuih.  I was stuffed. 

The third and fourth days were the hardest.  I guess the sugar reserve in my body dropped significantly.  I was super tired. The hunger and thirst started knocking on my brain since 10 am.  But again, since I was busy at the office, I didn't really have anytime to entertain them.

After the first week, everything was a breeze... In no time, I completed my first whole month of fasting.

For some people fasting teach them to be patient, to resist temptation, to feel how it is being poor without enough food and drink, to count the blessing, etc.

For me, my first fasting has taught me about perseverence.. about not giving up... about doing things that I never thought I would be able to do.

I guess what people say is true : when you keep your mind on something, you can do it.  I never really believed in it until that first month of fasting.

Selamat berpuasa to my muslim friends...

For my friends of other religions : it is true that if you don't give up easily, you can do whatever it is that you set your mind into, even losing weight of 70 kg... Just look at the Biggest Loser on TV.. really inspiring. Although I had to admit, my determination on losing weight is probably in the state of crumbling.

No Visitor Please...

I had a surgery to remove tumours in my ovary 3 weeks ago. 

When my doctor told me that I needed to get a surgery, I only told my husband.  Nobody else.  A few days before the surgery, I had to tell my mother-in-law so that she could help me taking care of my daughters while I was hospitalized  I didn't even think about telling anybody else until my husband asked me, "Did you tell your mother?"

I told him I didn't want to tell her coz I don't want her to be worried.  But my husband insisted I had to tell her.  So at the end, I told her and my sisters.  My mom booked a flight ticket right away, came a day before surgery and stayed with me for one week. I was glad I told her.  Just having her beside me making me felt better.

When I had bad news like this, my immediate response was not to tell anyone.  It's a habit that I have been keeping for years. 

I don't like people to know that I will be hospitalized. Why? Coz I don't like visitors when I am sick.

Strange? Maybe...

But I find it even stranger that some of my friends were quite offended when they found out that I was hospitalized and I didn't tell them.  And I was like.... why..??? 

It's stressful enough to know that something is growing inside my ovary but it's another thing to have to call twenty over friends and relatives to tell them about this.  Calling them means having to say the same things over and over again.  Explaining how I discovered it, when the doctor would perform the surgery, which hospital I would do the surgery, how the surgery would be done, etc, etc....

At that time, I just wanted to get rid of those tumours from my body ASAP.  I had no mood to talk, no mood to please anybody and certainly no mood to accept visitors.

But people just can't understand....

Let me explain why visitors are not welcomed when I am hospitalized :

1.  After a surgery, the anesthetic effect would make me look like a zombie, feel like I had just guzzled one bottle of Tequila, and behave like a vain woman who just had her favourite handbag stolen.

2. During the recovery, I had to dress in a hospital gown with no zip, no button and wide opening at the back which exposed the viewers to a sore body of "mature woman".

3. Since I couldn't take a bath for the first 3 days after surgery, I sure was smell funny (funnily disgusting, I mean...). I don't want to expose visitors to hazardous body odour mixed with alcohol swab smell and hospital chlorine. Let the odour be my secret... nobody needs to know...

4. To add to that horrible sight and smell, I would lose all my dignity when I had to meet people with dirty oily hairs.  I have to wash my hairs everyday.  Failure to do so will result in my scalp producing oil that can pollute the whole head like BP petrol polluted the Mexican gulf.

5. Again.. the thought of having to say the same thing over and over again... How was the surgery, whether I was in pain (of course I was...!! what a question..!), how was the tumour (fine, of course, happy to get out from the fat woman body), when would I be discharge, etc.etc.etc.... I just didn't have the mood to do this.

6. I couldn't sneeze or cough coz it would be very painful.  Some visitors might have some flu or cough and pass it to me. At that point, I didn't want any of those.. Sorry, no gift accepted.

7. Visitors usually feel "obligated" to come and visit, to avoid being labelled "not caring".  I totally understand how busy life is in KL.  Most people work from morning til 7pm.  They have to beat the traffic jam, cook, spend time with the children. Going to hospital is not a fun thing to do. 

8. I attract Multilevel Marketing (MML) people.  Wherever I go, I had always been approached by them, from tens different companies, each believing their products are the best.  During this time, despite of my body odour and horrific look, I became more attractive to them.  They would come with all kinds of vitamins and supplements, trying to convince me that I would be healthy and rich if I become one of the members.  I was in pain.... in a very bad mood ..... so when MML people come, visit and try to convert me, the words coming out from my mouth were definitely not the ones anybody wanted to hear. I don't want to offend anyone but I just can't handle this.

So, let us all spare all this nonsense...

By not visiting me : I m happy to keep my "horrible look and smell" a secret.  My friends and relatives are also not burdened for having to brave the KL/PJ traffic jam, scheduling time to visit, finding parking spot to buy some fruits or flowers, getting stopped by the hospital security for bringing durian to the hospital (my favourite fruit is durian), etc., etc.

Now... Since I don't want to repeat the same questions again and again... I want to tell you  how I discovered the tumour:  I missed my period for two months.  I thought I was pregnant... When the doctor checked... Nope, no baby in the tummy... just two cute tumours, happily growing 1 cm a week.  Thank God the tumours were benign.  I was hospitalized for 3 days in Assunta Hospital, PJ where the nurses and staffs were very helpful and friendly. Surgery was done by laparoscopy.  Total recovery time : 3 weeks.

Last note to woman readers : Please have routine check ups of Pap Smear, USG, Blood Test, and Mammogram.  If you experience something irregular, don't take it lightly... Just have a check with your gynea..