Sand and Sea before surgery

I squeezed in a bit of sand and sea time today before leaving for KL tomorrow, before the big surgery. 

Today was the first time we went to the beach since being back in Malaysia. It felt good to feel the sand under my bare feet. It feels like home for me now.  I've flown over the South China Sea so many times but until today I wasn't in it.

I took a wrong turn and went to the popular beach close by instead but when I realised my mistake, I quickly made my way to our usual secluded beach that was not far away. In this semi-private and not so well known beach, there are no vendors, no hoipolloi. Sometimes there's a few local kids hanging out here and fishermen, but it is usually a small number.

We got there really late, well into the evening, close to dusk. The sea was calm, and there was no rain in sight. It had been raining every day for a while with scattered thunderstorms, but this beach was clear of all of that.

The South China sea felt warm and inviting. I knew I didn't have much time to savour it fully. I was satisfied with just being in it, walking around, barefoot.  

Zoe took great delight in digging for crabs after initially complaining about them running rampant on the beach, squealing at the slightest sight of crab holes.

If you want to stay and play, quit whining and get over it! I said.

And with that...she was let loose!

I love that the first thing she did was write L-O-V-E in the sand. It was cute! 

I had told my parents at the last minute, that I intended to take a short ride to the beach and even though they usually don't enjoy it, they must have sensed that it was important to me to go today. I have no chance of going to my usual Perhentian getaway, so this little outing will have to do me for the rest of the year.

They too came along with little fuss. We took so many pictures today especially after I discovered my camera was capable of some special effects!

Zoe knew her time was running out when the light faded. It was hard for me to leave too.

Because of my surgery, she and I both won't be able to go to Perhentian this year.

If it is for your safety, Mummy, it's okay. We can go next year.

In the moment those words were uttered, I felt such pride. And such sorrow as well. I knew it was a great disappointment for her too, that she couldn't go snorkelling. 

We will swim with the fishies next year baby. 

Soon, darling. We will go to the island we love.

I don't know where to start

I have a date for my surgery. It's finalized.  And it's a mere few days away.

Suddenly it feels like reality hit me. Originally I was just going for consultations, appointments, scans, blood draws, and nothing was certain. Nothing was because every cancer marker was normal. The last cancer marker has not come back, but a surgery date is scheduled. This, is for real. I now have a tangible date.

I would love to go into surgery without a care in the world, but I'm left wondering what my mum is going to do, the worry-wart that she is. Who is going to sit with her while she waits for me outside the operating theatre? What is she going to do for dinner that day? Who is caring for Zoe while I'm away? Are they going to be able to handle her because she can be precocious? Who is going to watch my stuff while I'm in the OT? I can't leave it lying around or trust anybody else with it. I also worry about having to be admitted for more than 24 hours before the procedure. I'm going to talk to the surgeon about it. I'm going to be bored senseless. If the op is in the afternoon, let me come really early in the morning, for Pete's sake!!

If I had my way - nobody will be with me overnight either. But plans have been hatching around me to stick someone with me overnight to "take care of me" because "it is the way it is done here in this country". Somebody has to be with me so they can do what? Hold my hand when I have to pee? (I think I will have a catheter for that) I should be a veteran by now but I still hate being in a hospital. I have stayed as long as one month before. Granted, my husband stayed over almost every night and brought me outside food. I am determined to do this stint as unassisted as possible. I hate to be fussed over. As long as I have my phone and iPad, I think I'm fine. I can keep myself occupied and concentrate on recuperating.

That said, it would be nice to have my mum to sit around with me for a while. I just don't want her to stress over me and I know she will. It will be uncomfortable for her to sit around the whole day, to say the least. And, she will be bored as well. 

I know they all mean well, but I just want some peace of mind knowing that Zoe will be looked after and that I won't be hearing complaints about her later. Find a way to resolve problems without my assistance or knowledge. I just want to see her smiling at me later. For that matter, I want to see everyone smiling at me later. 

Whether this is cancer or not.

I5 mins to write

I shall allow myself  not more than 15 mins to leave these thoughts before I head out to see the surgeon tomorrow in KL because it is late and I have to be up to catch a flight in -oh -5 hours!

I leave with a light and heavy heart -

I feel like I have a pretty good attitude towards this whole thing. I have an upcoming surgery that is certain. What is discovered is uncertain. But what happens happens. I can't change that. Nobody can. I don't believe in God, so nobody can save me. I'm a realist. I am not worried or depressed. I just want to bloody fix things!! Everything else is not in my hands. I can only be happy and have a good attitude and that's the best I can do. I hope that whatever it is in my pelvis is fixable. And if I do have cancer, it is treatable.

Look at James Gandolfini today. He didn't anticipate his end was nigh. Nobody could have. Life is like that. I accept it. It could be this our that that takes you away from everything and everybody.

I am lucky because I have parents, husband, daughter and an amazing brother who love me and unconditionally at that. My family has lent their support, my friends - new and old - have stood by me, and wished me luck. Most of you who know me don't give me "false hope" and say everything will be fine. And those of you who have said that - I know you mean you hope the best for me. And I appreciate it all the same. Love and hugs to all! Massive love and hugs.

To those of you who have heard me speak endlessly about the ups and downs...I hope you don't mind! I talked to you a lot because you listen well. I might have bored you but you were there for me. And I thank you! Those who have heard me briefly, just know that I didn't want to rehash things over and over for everyone. If you read me here, you'll know what I mean.

The heavy heart of course is if things go wrong - my dear Zoe: Mummy's favorite girl. Forever! I hope you always keep a good attitude and remain strong no matter what. Life goes on. There's many things that I haven't had a chance to teach you but I know you are in good hands with Daddy and everyone in Malaysia. Love love love!! Big love!! Remember to treat your family and friends well, and with respect, at all times.

I'm not a fatalist, don't think that at all. But I don't want to leave important things unsaid. Going forward, I'm not sure if I have the heart to add to this, but I more than likely will. I am always looking up and always smiling..

Yours,
Gigi xoxo

Several notable things today!

*  My father has severe gas pains and we are extremely worried because he's suffering. We have to give him a suppository which is an unpleasant thing in itself. Finally after some hours, there is some relief and we can all breathe easy.

*  In the meantime, my pain has been one of the worst since returning home. Even with 600mg of ibuprofen, it is barely under control. I lie down in between checking on my dad.

*  The ENT specialist calls me twice but can't get a hold of me. This is the first time during the day when I do not have my phone as my arm extension. I'm having lunch with my mum who is still worried about my dad who is recuperating.

*  My friend also tries to call me four times (while I am without the phone) to tell me the ENT is trying to get a hold of me, but he leaves me a Whatsapp text instead to tell me I'm CLEAR. My nose biopsy is negative!! Hurrah for that, and phew, what a relief!!! And just like that the pain in my pelvic region subsides a little. Maybe the ibuprofen is beginning to work. (I am swimming soon!)

*  I have to take Zoe to the dentist who self-proclaimed, "I'm not good with kids" to have two cavities filled and she screams at the mention of it. Later she declares she wants to use laughing gas but she doesn't want to as well. But I don't want to be controlled by gas! I laugh my ass off because that is the funniest line I've heard in a while; and my nose is clear, so I can afford to laugh!!

*  I had chided a close friend in America who repeatedly assured me that everything was going to be all right. I just simply don't want to be promised things that no one can promise. Is that asking too much? So she writes a long message lamenting her life with an uncaring and almost certainly bipolar and untreated husband. She said my situation with my health is bad, but her only way out is if she were gone from this earth. And that at least my husband does not treat me like hers treats her.  Here is my response to her:

Hey, you need to do what makes you happy and not pin your happiness on your family or your husband. I know how you feel right now but you have to really just try to be the happiest you can be. By yourself. For yourself. Be happy every day. Think happy things that make you happy and that make you smile. And just smile all the time. And you see you will feel better. 

I am not losing hope my friend. I am a fighter and always will be. I just don't like to hear things that no one can promise. That's all. I am still hopeful that I don't have cancer. But if I do, I will face it and fight it bravely.

So please my friend, don't think unhappily even if your life is. Look up, be up, and be smiling even through pain. You will see that it helps.  

Love you, Sending you lots of hugs. Even in my weakest moment, I shall not be weak. And I am here for you! PS. Don't be upset any more, and please don't drink so much.

PET/CT Scan - what was my experience today?

My family doctor wants to be thorough about things so I was told to go to this place in Bangsar on Jalan Maarof - called Austral-Euro Diagnosis to get a PET/CT Scan to see if there is cancer. Even though cancer markers were taken, only 2 were obtained, not the usual 4. So this scan is supposed to see everything?  Really??

I get there 8am in the morning, I'm early. There's already 3 or 4 patients in front of me. They register me, get an IV catheter going and get a brief medical history while they are at it. I am then ushered into a tiny room with a comfortable chair and a place where I can put my clothes. I am given 1.5 litres of water to drink. In the meantime they push some clear radioactive dye I suppose in me through the IV. I'm to undress and just wear my underwear and a robe. All my accessories are off - earrings, rings, and phone!!  I'm left alone in that tiny closed room with a ventilator to contemplate what the scan's going to show and to drink my water. Not my idea of fun. And that took a long time. The mind wanders you know?

After that, I'm told to pee several times to get as much liquid out of me as possible so my bladder is not full of water and they have to scan me again. They shuffle the patients from comfy chair to comfy chair in a waiting area outside the scanner room to indicate your turn. The closest chair to the scanner room is up next. Musical chairs. Fun? No. A better way of doing things should happen here.

Everybody sitting out in the waiting area is really almost naked under the robes, and the robes are pretty short. I don't really fancy looking at these fellas who are out there with me. And thankfully everyone has the decency to just close their eyes and think about what's ahead.

I am quite claustrophobic so that was my biggest concern. Turns out the machine is not really that bad. It is open on both sides and they shuffle you back and forth so you are never quite covered all the way, nor do you feel like you're entering a closed tunnel. The attendant tried to strap me in and I told her, Look, I am claustrophobic so please don't do that! So she makes sure that I will hold myself  on that little tray they slide in and out of the covered area, and not fall off. Arms over my head and off I go. There's a little sticker that reads Laser Beam, do not look directly into it.  Or something to that effect. I just close my eyes and try not to fall off. The whole scan takes barely 15-20 mins. I almost fell asleep!

After I came out of the scanner room, I promptly got dressed and waited outside to hear my results. The procedure was as simple as that.

As to whether my results were good - No. I didn't hear what I wanted to hear - which is that everything was clear. I was told that I have something that looks like cancer in my pelvic area but that it was not clear - 50-50 chance, the doctor said. And that he was almost 100% sure I had nose cancer, and that it needed to be treated with radiotherapy and chemotherapy immediately. But it is very treatable, he added.

THUD?!!

My brother was waiting outside. Prior to the scan, I'd told him - Don't freak out, no matter what the results are. Or I will as well. He did well composing himself. He didn't freak out. I didn't freak out. I was stunned. And then I started making calls and sending texts. I told people I had it. Because who says nearly 100% sure if they don't know? And a PET/CT scan is supposed to be the be-all and end-all that shows you every goddamn thing. I told people - I'm not afraid. Whatever it is, I will deal with it. Let's fix it. In my head, logistics of how things were going to happen just weighed me down. I should go back to America. I shouldn't. What?! I need to get it done soon...blah blah...all in my head - I was hashing this out.

 

I thought about Zoe. Even in moments of weakness like these, I shan't be weak. But I couldn't help feeling that I was fighting Goliath. I kept thinking about Zoe. I made my husband promise me that he will always keep the connection with my family if I weren't here. I was thinking all the things that were worse case scenario. It would be foolish for me not to. Yeah it is good to be positive, like I always strive to be. But I still have to think for Zoe, if for nobody else. What happens to her without me in the picture?

I felt so lucky that I had my brother with me. It wasn't a planned thing for him to be with me. He had work to do today. But he chose to come and it was a great comfort to me. Truly. And I'm not just writing for him to see either because I know he reads me here. It was just having someone there to help maybe take it in alongside me. And to drive me away from this place! ASAP!

No matter what, don't anybody give me false hope. Some have said, everything will be OK. No...how do you even know that? You can't say that. So don't say that. I like it upfront and honest. Don't promise me something that can't be given. I'm a realist and I don't live in la la land!  I almost have to laugh despite the dire news. Just so people realise how ridiculous they sound.

To be continued.

Swim again?

So I defy doctor's orders and go swim. I'm supposed to "forget about exercising and dieting" for now. hahaha...what doctor ever says that?? I've never heard that from anyone, let alone a doctor!

I'm still in a wee bit of pain despite the painkillers I took a couple of hours ago, but I'm in desperate need of some thinking time. I had been pushing through the pain and the fatigue for the last few weeks, doubling up on treadmill and swimming so I am not using my thyroid problem as a poor excuse for lying around. Come to find out, maybe it's not my thyroid that is making me tired. Well, who knows? A combination of everything? Who cares, until tomorrow? That's when I know something for sure.

I wonder if my arms will be sore tomorrow. I do have pretty good upper body strength to carry me through my laps with little use of lower body strength. Using my legs causes more pain. I think I'd rather stay away from that. Lying curled up, fetal position on my bed for hours on end is not really that fun. Been there, done that. On top of that I can't even fall asleep and the mind wanders. Worse for wear.

I did OK. I felt refreshed after the swim. I swam alongside Zoe's lithe body, admiring her slenderness, her free spirit, her ignorance to the stuff I was going through. I wondered how long it would take me to heal from the impending surgery and when I would swim again because that's the one thing I absolutely love to do. Swimming. It is good for my psyche. And it is good for my body. Especially when I can swim under the sun. It does wonders for me. I wondered how Zoe would do under the care of my parents. Less lip, more respect, please, little one!

Tomorrow. I'll know more tomorrow. For today, let's just be happy. And hope there's no more pain tonight.

I was just thinking..

There have been several distinct stages in my life, and within those stages maybe different realms.

The first stage was my childhood through teenage years. The second was when I was learning to be my own person when I left home to study overseas. The third was when I inadvertently got married while I was still growing up. A fourth was when I realised I had grown up and was married. A fifth perhaps when I was gaining experience working, and hoping to start a family. A sixth started when I was pregnant and then gave birth to Zoe and taking care of her full time for many years. And now, when she's herself growing up and when I am taking back some of my freedom that I had lost taking care of her full time.

I'm still not exactly sure if the stages are well defined, but they seem like they are quite distinct for me.

Taking back some of my freedom may sound really exaggerated. Actually I merely mean that sometimes, I am able to step out of being mum to Zoe to being just myself.

Acting as mum to Zoe can be really tiring sometimes. It's trying to find the right balance of being caring and militant. It's trying to manage expectations and hopes. It's trying to do the right thing all the time just because you want to be a good example.

I have to let my hair down every now and then. I'm sure there are mums who don't. I'm sure there are mums who are always mums and they lose their own identity unless it is associated with their children. I actively don't want to be that sort of mum. I realise and love the fact that I will always be Zoe's mum and will love her eternally and unfailingly unconditionally. Yet, I also have a strong need to be recognised as an individual independent of connections to others, be it spouse, family, child or friend. And perhaps it is because of that need that I am the way I am. You can call it selfish or even arrogant. You can hate it or like it. I call it being the only way I know how to be. And that is to be me.

Kenduri

The kenduri was nothing like what we expected at all.

The nephew of a prominent politician was getting married and we were invited to attend the kenduri at his house. I was keen to attend because it'd been a long time since I'd been to a proper Malay wedding and even longer since I've been to an elaborate kenduri or Malay feast.

Imagine our surprise when we got there to be greeted by 2 small marquees with several plastic tables and chairs set up for guests, a buffet that consisted of 5 dishes and some rice and 2 choices for drinks. It was hardly the grand set up that I had envisioned.

We were the only Chinese to be seen and upon seeing us everyone assumed we had come from Kuala Lumpur probably because the groom works for a Chinese-owned law firm in KL. My brother was the groom's colleague.

"Did you come from KL?"
"Buke, dari KB ni..." No, I'm from KB, I answered in Malay, to prove my local accent.
Still, the reply came in English. "Ohhhh...you're from here" almost like it was a disappointment we weren't from out of town.

Had I got on a plane and come all the way from KL to attend this kenduri, I would have been more than a little let down.  I wondered how the royal family who were there before us and had left already thought about the whole set up. Surely they were disappointed as well?

We grabbed a plate and ate hurriedly. It was sweltering. Sweat dripped from my forehead. Zoe was dressed to the nines and suffering in the heat. She didn't want to play with any of the children who were there, and she didn't enjoy the food at all. I can't blame her. It was all a bit weird. They came by with wedding favors but didn't give each of us one.

I suggested to my brother that we get a picture with the bride and groom before we leave. We were invited into their room where a professional photographer took our pictures and then it was all over. We got in our car and left. What a disappointing first kenduri for little Zoe. I think she won't be keen to go to another.

Night mode

I've always been a night owl. I love night time. Or the semblance of night. When I lived in the UK, it would get dark really early in the winter time. Sometimes it would be 330pm and it would be dark. I loved that. I don't get that so much in the US Midwest. Night always comes slightly later than that even in the dead of winter.

Regardless of the season, long or short, it is still night time, no? When Zoe and the husband are asleep, it is most peaceful. I get a lot of things done during this time. I plan my lessons for the private classes I give at home, I study, talk to my friends from the other side of the world, catch up on news and do whatever I want. Nobody else needs my attention in the still of the night. It's bliss. Mostly.

Lately my nights have been difficult to get through. Ironically, it is for the same reasons they were so good before. Circumstances have changed. Outlooks have changed and a friend's unexpected early death also threw a wrench in it. I needed some libation to get through the night, a little self distraction to comfort my aching soul. I am not sure why I even resorted to it because it's not something I do. But for the past few weeks I have been slovenly. I have cared little about food or much else. My usually well stocked fridge was now full of old food that had not been eaten. I made sure Zoe was fed properly and with proper fresh food, but I didn't care about what I ate, when I ate or if I ate. Sometimes I survived on a banana or two throughout the day and ate a meal at dinner that I hardly tasted nor enjoyed. Sometimes I was lucky and had company over who would make me sit down and eat something with them. And I'd have to eat something really sweet or salty to overwhelm my failing taste buds so I could stomach any food.

It's funny how a lack of appreciation of food can lead to much more. My nights were horrid. Being alone at night while the husband worked out of town during the week was getting tougher. All things being normal, it would not have been difficult. He would be asleep if he were home anyway. It would not be any lonelier or harder. The difference was this: I could make my descent into night mode and he would not be around to wake up to find me gone and he wouldn't be able to pull me out of it. So, I allowed myself to drown in my sorrows, choosing to obfuscate the sadness nightly with my gin and tonics, wine or beer.

I was barely holding it together but I knew I had to keep it together. I didn't want to look down at the abyss that was beneath me. Just keep looking up and moving forward. The thing about being a strong person is sometimes nobody stops to ask you how you are because they think you have it all under control. Even strong people are vulnerable at times, no? Anyway, I think I'm nearly out of this sinkhole now. Perhaps.

Flowers for my grandparents

It was drizzling this morning when we set out to pay respects to my grandparents who have passed. I never knew my father's parents because they died before I was born.  My mother's parents on the other hand, I was very close to.  I lived with my grandparents when I was younger and remained close to them until they passed. I have so many good memories of them.

My maternal grandparents lie here.

We stopped to set flowers at my maternal grandparents' tomb or memorial in a smaller temple in what you can call the countryside.  There are numerous Buddhist temples peppered throughout this area that is Wakaf Baru or Tumpat. Our state of Kelantan is the closest to Thailand and many Buddhist temples in our region are strongly influenced by Thai Buddhists.  Some temples are incredibly elaborate, but some are minimalistic.

Traditionally offerings of food are presented to the ancestors. Joss sticks are also used to "pray to" (pay respects to) them, and then stuck in that little joss stick urn to burn to ash.  One would even burn fake money so that the dead can use that money to buy whatever they want wherever they are.

The Buddha sits on top of the house
of ashes

I agreed with mother that there was really no need for all that fanfare. I feel it in my heart. Let's not make a fuss. I'm going there to see them. But really I don't even need to go see them to feel them and remember them. Nevertheless, some traditions should be kept. Chinese people feel so strongly about who is going to "take care of their grave" when they are gone.  I personally don't need that but I can understand and appreciate the importance of having the tradition. It is especially important for children to recognise, respect and remember why this is done. And for Zoe, it is good to know some Chinese traditions, even if we as a family are not really exactly traditional or conservative.

Our next stop was a bigger temple a little further along the same road. This one has a huge brown sitting Buddha sitting atop its house of ashes.  Below the Buddha are dead people. This is the final resting place for my paternal grandparents who were for many years buried in a well known cemetery south of Kota Bharu.  

A few years ago, my father's family thought it was prudent to exhume his parents and cremate them so we could move them to this temple. This was primarily done to simplify Qingming or Cheng Beng for the family. Read about Cheng Beng here. 

Cheng Beng was so involved at my paternal grandparents' tomb that you'd need an army of relatives just to clean up the site. It used to be fun when we were kids but with all of us dispersed throughout the world, hardly anybody is left to do this arduous task of yearly maintenance.

My  mother making her way back to the
house of ashes after getting the key

We had some trouble getting to the site because the doors were locked. My mum had to go to the administration, today represented by an elderly fortune teller, to request a key to unlock the main gates so we could enter the house of ashes.  Normally we wouldn't have been able to get in but mum was recognised by the fortune teller: "Ahh, you are Leo's daughter, you have your father's eyes. Let me get you the keys, just make sure you lock up and bring them back."  

A stroke of luck. Guanxi works so well in this part of the world. 

Locating my paternal grandparents'
memorial was easy. Dead flowers still
hung from the last visit.

There's hardly any cleaning needed here. Maybe a little dusting off of the plaques, the removal of the dead flowers that were from a visit about a month ago during the actual Cheng Beng festival. We replaced the flowers with fresh ones and hung them by that little ring by the plaques. My fifth uncle also lies here next to his parents, himself exhumed as well from a different graveyard and then cremated so he would finally rest here.  My uncle was 15 when he took on the almighty Kelantan River and failed. Sadly, he drowned.

It was still drizzling when we left. I didn't do a whole lot of reflecting today but I did think to myself that it was good to be doing this today with my family. On Buddha's birthday, Wesak Day.    

Random Ramblings

Life is too short to hold grudges. 
If I held them I would be completely miserable because life has dealt me one too many blows in the years past. I can't say I don't get miserable and complain a bit when I'm given bad news about people, about lost love and friendships and worse of all about my own health.  I'm not immune to that. My attitude is good but not that good that I can immediately brush it off and move on.  However, I have learned that whining is definitely NOT me. Moaning and whining just don't become me.  I loathe the beginnings of a whine in Zoe.  If it is allowed to blossom into actual words, it would drive me absolutely crazy.

Every time I go see the doctor I go with an open mind.  And if I read on her face that bad news is coming, I breathe deeply. I've had a 13-year relationship with my primary care physician and she knows to give it to me straight. Don't sugar coat it, don't try to make me feel better. What do you think it is?  If it is what you think it is, what do we do going forward?  Simple.  Don't overcomplicate.  Have a problem? Take it on. Don't deny it. Deal with it.  That's the best way forward.

Patience
I was on bed rest for 7.5 months when I was pregnant with Zoe. The threat of pre-term labor was there from the get-go. By far, I wasn't the worst case high-risk pregnancy, but with all that I had going on, it was enough to make you sick every day without mental fortitude. That was an incredibly intense emotional rollercoaster for me.  Every time we would be at the obstetrician's, we were not sure if Zoe would live or not. And with a hyper vigilant doctor at the helm, if her heart rate so much as dipped once, I was admitted to the hospital just like that.

I had a basement that was being refurbished and we had issues with the contractor that I couldn't do anything about. I was entirely reliant on my overburdened husband to provide me with food and water and take me to the doctor 3 times a week.  People have 2 ultrasounds per pregnancy, we had 3 multiple-photo ultrasounds every week.  I have a whole album of Zoe before she was even born!  My job was to make sure I rest, move little and stay calm.  Harder to do than you think for an A type personality.

Finally, a month-long stay at the hospital really tried to do me in! But guess what, I'm still here, I survived, Zoe survived, we are still living and shit...! Patience.  Also one of my all time favorite songs by Guns N Roses.

Hungry for Adventure
Staying home with Zoe for going on 9 years has been bliss.  Even though there have been obvious ups and downs, I've loved every second of it.

Many stay-at-home mothers lose themselves at one time or another. Saying that you haven't felt that would just be lying.  You lose yourself in the things that you do for the family as a whole, your children.  It doesn't matter that I only have one, it's the same.  I try to manage my expectations because I do only have one child. I don't want her to be burdened by the weight of her parents' desires and expectations. I don't desire to live vicariously through her. Obviously I would like her to do things that I am interested in but I realise she is her own person.  When she has a fire to accomplish something, I will be fanning that flame. A mother gets so involved in the well being of her offspring that she sometimes forgets and neglects herself.

I am self-aware of these feelings but I also feel like I have sacrificed a lot of myself for her. I can't wait to embark on my own personal adventure, free of my family.  It is not some kind of mid-life crisis, yet a dream that was not fulfilled earlier on in my life that I wish to see through at some point.

Not exactly a typical mother
I look around at parents at Zoe's school and I don't feel like I fit in.  I identify on a personal level with very few of them. Maybe it's because I'm not from around there. Maybe they are just cliquey. I'm not one to make small talk about stuff that means nothing to me. I want to talk about meaningful issues, important things. I don't want to talk about what crazy toys or games that are hot, or how my kid is getting along with her teacher, or least of all fake an interest in other people's children.  Maybe that's why I don't fit in. The exchange usually sucks for us too because we have only one child and other people usually at least two.

I don't care about the toys and stuff because we jive to a different tune. We have toys too but maybe not the expensive ones.  We do play games but we are now concentrating on one - chess.  If my kid doesn't get along with her teacher, tough.  Suck it up and adapt. She's not getting any sympathy from me. If you don't learn to adapt to different personalities early in life, you're just going to be coddled and spoiled. Not my Zoe.   She needs skills to survive, not someone to spoil her in this fashion. She might be my only child, but I refuse to parent her like she is the bees knees. I am glad that even at 8 despite her occasional misadventures and tantrums, she is a good and caring friend to others.

Also, I don't have a problem with some of the words that Zoe's schools bans like: stupid, pee, ass, and butt among others. Of course it depends on the context in which they are used. But generally speaking stupid is acceptable in our house: Don't be stupid, Don't do stupid things, Don't act stupidly and Don't make stupid mistakes!  These are common in our household.  I have a thing against stupid. Don't be it and you're fine.

And while I care about some of other people's kids, I don't care about all of them. I'm just being honest. I take full interest in the kids that I have mentored and taught during the course of the last couple of years. Some have become almost like my kids. I have a vested interest in their performance at school or at chess tournaments. They are my charges, and I love having them around.  I love the energy that young people have. It's so uplifting and pure.

I may not have made my case that I am an atypical mother but I truly believe I am.  Maybe time will tell.

Swim For Clarity

600m for my first outing after almost a full year's lack of activity is actually pretty good. I'll take it.  The sun felt good on my skin and with medication in my system, I managed to eke out a workout while still having a desperately sore throat. I'm suitably impressed. I might have made it 1km but I didn't have time. A little color will do me some good too. Being pale is just not me.

The past year set me back a lot. I thought I only had one symptom: tachycardia. A fast heartbeat. To the tune of 125-135 bpm at rest regularly, and peaking at 157.  Who knew it would lead to the diagnosis of Grave's disease or hyperthyroidism? But in reality, I had lost weight without realising it because I wasn't one for tight clothing anyway.  But yeah I'll take that too. And I also did have an incredibly fast digestion rate, which meant....!   All this was surely better than what my doctor was thinking. Worst case scenario, something was wrong with my heart, my arteries were blocked and I'd need a stent inserted.  No thanks, thank you very much.  I'll take the thyroid problem and see you the rest.

I was always feeling less than 100%, that was certain. Now I had the diagnosis, what would ensue was a series of tests, pills, forced inactivity, radioactivity and isolation. Fun, right? Not exactly.

So I was told that I could take pills to suppress my hormones and stay on them for up to a year and continue to enjoy the weight loss without even trying (yay!). But with an impending trip back home, and the observation of dry and flaky skin coupled with acne, I chose to end my suffering once and for all. Why prolong this for a few pounds?  It also meant that I could not be active, I had to avoid sun and I had to avoid caffeine. Caffeine is easy because I don't really crave it. I can't be active? That's hard. Avoid sun? In Malaysia - super hard!

I could get rid of my thyroid by having it surgically removed or take a radioactive I-131 pill to kill off the active nodules and in effect render my entire thyroid worthless without having surgery. The former would get rid of all symptoms at once, and the latter would make my symptoms taper off. The former was also risky because my vocal chords were close to the thyroid. One wrong move and I'd be in deep trouble.

I chose the I-131.  After taking this, one is told that one has to be at least 3 ft away from people for a week so they are not contaminated by radioactivity.  And the distance from children should be double that. This was the hardest thing to do: not hugging and kissing my Zoe, not holding her close. It was torture. One week was.  After one week, I went in for a test and my levels were still high, so they suggested let's try one month away from children. Argghh!!  They didn't think to tell me this before I chose this option. Of course they didn't. In fact it was normal to stay away from children for up to a month. You're also given a Travel Advisory Card to certify that you have had radioactive treatment, valid 3 months from the date you receive treatment so you can prove that you don't have explosives on you if airport bomb detectors go off.  Wow. Blow me down..why don't you?

Luckily all that is behind me now and I'm happily taking my replacement hormones for my thyroid that I have to take daily.  I am well, I am determined to live an unencumberedly active lifestyle. Because every second I am alive counts. I have learned that many times over.

Anyway I digress. I swim because it's a childhood activity that I absolutely fell in love with. It is weightless and freeing. When I'm in the water, I can think. I run strategies in my head, I think about life's issues and how I can resolve them. I even run through scenarios that happened before and how I would have handled things differently.  Even with my dangly earrings rattling through the quietness of being underwater, I find clarity. A quiet that is only interrupted by my thoughts. I plan what I'm going to do next.  It's just always brought me a modicum of peace. No one yacking in my ear!  It's almost like night time when all is well.  Not night time when you're missing someone or thinking of lost loves and adventures.  A good feeling to have, that is. I'm going to make more of those feelings.

Chess Talk

For years I had cast chess aside. I didn't play at all. It had been a passion of mine when I was growing up which was fuelled by a maniacal classmate who would take over the classroom when the teacher was late. He’d teach all of us the fundamentals of chess. My father was my first teacher but he was an a4, h4 player who did not know what castling was, much less en passant.  If you are into chess, you will know exactly what I mean. 

I represented my school at the state level and won some prizes. And later in college, I would represent our university chess club in the local leagues in the UK. It was in UK where I had the best time of my life bonding with friends who had the same interest and having fun with a bunch of “chess geeks”. We were not at all what you imagine chess people to be, but we definitely were a crazy and fun-loving group of misfits. There were very few girls and it made for interesting dynamics within our group.

I am lucky enough to live in St. Louis now, and it was recently named Chess Capital of USA.  It’s an honor that befits our city.  The St. Louis Chess Club and Scholastic Center in our city is one of the best facilities for chess that I have ever seen. In the UK, I had been playing in the worst of places – smoke-filled pubs and basements, little rooms tucked away in Student Unions and make-shift tournament halls in schools.  The St. Louis facility is clean, bright, and well-staffed with enthusiastic and knowledgeable people. We have visiting grandmasters on staff at any given moment who give lectures and private lessons. Recently the club hosted the 2013 US Open Chess Championships.  Present were many Women Grandmasters as well as men Grandmasters.

GM Ben Finegold v GM Varuzhan Akobian 

at the 2013 US Open Chess Championships in St. Louis, MO, USA.

I first discovered this wonderful place when I volunteered at Zoe’s school as a chess mentor.  From there, it was a fast track to membership, attending lectures with GMs, and paying for private lessons for Zoe.  We also frequented the club, which was a long drive away, at least 3 times a week. Weekends were all spent at the club: playing, watching and mingling with like-minded folk.  Talk about commitment. This is it.

The club has reignited something in me that was long lost.  It’s given me new friends, new ideas, new beginnings. When I return to it in 3 months’ time after our summer vacation, I will also work for them part time.  What an exciting prospect!! But now I must shore up my chess knowledge.  Back to the grind.

Sage at the Gardens

  Reading about Sage on Paranoid Android's blog spurred on this visit to Sage with the family.  This would be a mini-celebration splurge lunch to congratulate my brother on his new job.  Sage is located on the 6th floor of the Gardens Residences at Gardens Mall at Mid Valley City in Kuala Lumpur. 

 The Discovery lunch menu at Sage. RM100 Nett. 

   Their Discovery Lunch set menu was offered at RM100 Nett for 3 courses, featuring 2 choices from each course. Figuring on ordering a la carte so we didn't have to double up on the same food, we wondered how much to order but our kind waitress suggested that we do the Sage Dinner set priced at RM150 Nett that would come with 3 courses.  Ordering 3 courses off the menu separately, would have set us back RM60 for appetizer, RM95 for entree and RM30 for dessert.  Do the math!  We went for the dinner set.  

   Sage's decor is clean and crisp.  Nothing extraneous. The inter-spaced mirrors on the ceiling offer a nice reflection of the restaurant floor and its patrons.  

  Our waitress took our orders but had to rewrite our whole order on another piece of paper.  I'm not sure what happened there.  If I am to be picky, I would suggest that the staff get briefed on the food being served on their ever-changing menu.  Be prepared for the customer who won't order off your set lunch menu.

    Overall my brother and I were winners because we ordered off the dinner set. While the Discovery lunch appetizers were good, the entrees left my parents a little underwhelmed.

    One good thing about Sage - they weren't at all snooty. The didn't frown upon my little 6-year-old Zoe not ordering a thing.  She was even offered a plate to share with us. Despite having fed her earlier, she happily feasted on our bits and pieces and each of our desserts!

Sage is tastefully decorated and there aren't many tables here. It's also refreshing, in Malaysia, to see a clean kitchen. It's a pity that you have to come to a fine dining establishment to be able to see it!

Confit of duck leg with Puy lentils and olives.  This was the best of the appetizers at the table.  Crispy duck skin, perfectly tender duck leg.  I'm not sure why I thought those lentils were capers at first! Probably a brain fart..

Pasta with seafood was light and tasty.

Seared foie with grapes and red wine reduction.  My first proper taste of foie gras.  Don't like the practice of getting the product but loved the taste.  My brother ate this so slowly it was excruciating to watch. Gimme some more!!  (I only had a teeny weeny bite of it, but I can't complain because the minuscule piece of foie was shared among 4).

The foie looks deceptively big. It was probably 1.5 inches across.

Kelp encrusted Norwegian smoked salmon. Nice.

Risotto of Hokkaido scallop with aonori and wakame.  This risotto was infused with a seaweed and chicken broth. No cheese like the typical Italian risotto. The scallops weren't as fresh as I was hoping. The crunchiness of the seaweed on top gave different texture to the whole dish, making it a delightful mouthful each time.

Dad's slow cooked lamb was tasty but a tad tough. I'm not sure if he was entirely pleased with it.

Slow cooked Wagyu with carrot puree and beans.  Tender, juicy and savoured very slowly by my dear brother. 

Mum's seabass was overcooked, but the beignet oyster was nicely done. Spinach was a touch too salty.  

The other menu. Only available upon request when you choose not to do the Discovery set lunch.

My brother's Strawberry Romanoff with Mascapone ice cream was simply delightful.

Recapturing Zoe's love for the beach

Zoe had her first taste of the beach when she was about 7 months' old. That was her first trip back to Malaysia.

She loved the beach. Any old beach, as long as it had sand and sea. And she had her pail and tools to dig around. She would play with hermit crabs and build her sand castles. She'd get tickled silly when the waves licked her feet, crawling up her legs. She'd splash around unabashedly.

4 trips in, she has developed a phobia of sand. The colour just isn't what it used to be. There's rubbish all over the place.

"It's dirty, Mummy..I don't want to walk...carry me" she would wail.

Who can blame her? The state of the beaches around Kelantan is quite honestly, appalling. I grew up around beautiful beaches, but where are they now? Erosion has taken out most of the beauty in the old faithfuls like PCB and Pantai Tujoh. Beaches like Pantai Irama in Bachok still retained some appeal until recently when they put up some sort of retaining wall.

I love being at the beach. I don't have to walk on it or play in the sea, nor feel the waves at my feet. Just being there is enough. To look out at the sea is to know that I am at home. And if I'm not looking at the sea from here, I still get reminded of home. It's a win-win situation for me. It would mean so much to me if my daughter can share the joy of being at the beach with me. I sort of need her to love the beach. For me, it's almost like a sense of belonging. For her, I have yet to find out I suppose.

In the US, the closest thing to a beach where we are, is a lake. It's sad and pathetic, I know. The closest beach is probably a day's drive away. We are very inland. Right slap bang in the middle of this vast country. Heart of the Mid West.

So - when I come home to where beaches are aplenty, I tend to want to take every opportunity I have to be at one. So far the popular beaches have been a disappointment. Even the one we went to yesterday, which is a rather secluded one with fewer visitors, was filthy. The shoreline was peppered with rubbish.

Come on though, the Kelantanese have got to see what they are doing to their beaches. Look at Terengganu. Beautiful, spotless, sandy beaches. When you drive from Kelantan to Terengganu, over that bridge by Kuala Besut, going into Bukit Kluang. Wow, what a difference. The sand there is pristine. When you drive back homewards, beautfiul blueish sea turns into a greenish brown mass. The transition is shocking!

I'm not a tree hugger by any means but this is just ridiculous! An environmentalist would have a field day at this Pantai Mengkabang, also known as Pantai Lubang Golok by the local kids. Plastic bottles and bags, broken glass bottles, old shoes, straws, food wrappings, even discarded clothes are everywhere. I'm a little afraid to walk barefoot here. As I get further in towards the sea, I get a little braver. The waves have either taken away the trash or it's simply buried deep enough I can't see it!

Slowly and firmly, I convince Zoe to get off me and walk. She's a little heavy for me to carry around these days. She walks about 20 metres with me, whining and moaning, " I don't want to walk, I don't want to walk!".

Finally I distract her into picking up the shells along the way. We found plenty of cockle shells and these twisty Towers. She starts getting into collector mode and goes for every uncracked shell. Soon, we come upon some men and boys with their vast net. It had been raining for most of the day until this evening so the sea was cloudy and the catch was going to be good. Some of them stay on shore and others spread out into the sea with their part of the net.

Zoe suddenly asks for sand toys. I got my beachlover back!! She's still tentative, scraping sheepishly at dry sand. I suggest moving closer to the sea. She's reluctant, but slowly takes baby steps towards wetter sand. I leave her with my friend for a moment while I take in the Kuan Yin statue that's facing the sea. What a strange place for it, I think to myself. So I venture offshore to take some pictures.

By the time I come back a few minutes later, Zoe is back to her old self. A manic wet-sand thrower (a wrecker of digital cameras!), a wave kicker-upper, a normal 4-year-old who doesn't care if sand gets in her hair. Or in Mummy's hair.

I figure something out too. Maybe I already knew it before. Zoe's phobia of sand was more or less brought on by me. I'm always telling her she has to be clean. Wash those hands, rid those germs from your fingers, don't put your fingers in your mouth, blah blah..

Finding a balance between loving nature and everything around us, and being clean. Sometimes, it's easier said than done.