Holiday Never Turn Me Into Lazy Bump Bump

My life has always been eventful even during the holidays, happenings both delightful and sombre never fail to spice my day. Oh, not forgetting virtual incidents too. I had a couple of queer queer dreams in the past few nights. I wonder why. Perhaps sleeping late, watching Secret Garden before sleep (as if a necessary bedtime story), or maybe because it's holiday when you have to much of empty space in the brain.

Queer dream #1: I was informed abruptly that tomorrow would be my wedding and insight of Mum busy preparing flashed.

Queer dream #2: Mr. Mahadi was dead! I was so shock and sad at the same time and kept telling people how remarkable he was when he was alive.

These two are the most vivid in my mind. I still have tonnes of it, but they fade fast before I can store them.



Last Friday, I accompanied Mum to meet Chinese doctor in Port Dickson. After two hours of long drive plus with the time that we got lost, we finally arrived the miraculous place that could cure Mum illness. Whit gleaming light was as if pouring out, showering us with hopes, with clouds and fogs as if floating on the ground when we pushed open the tinted glass door. I appreciated the heritage that still prevailed in the clinic for it was not couch that laid on the bathroom floor tile but wooden benches, for it was not of a large black perspex glued with numerous tiny white alphabets but a wide black wooden plank engraved with gold in colour large Chinese characters that hung proudly and presentably at the top of the wall.

The cozy and chilly ambience made me wanted to stay put longer but the friendly nurse called us in to the doctor's room right after a minute. The bespectacled doctor with wide face and high M-shaped forehead who actually inherited the same interest and gift of healing from his late father, welcomed us with a wide grin and soon became chatty in Cantonese. The doctor stung my mother on a few God-and-he-only knew spots with needles coiled with micro fine copper wires after my mother whined her pains.

Few seconds after that, my mother expressed great relieved for all the stiff muscles had loosen up very much, making her feeling lighter. While the doctor treated my mother, he also shrewdly knew my body conditions by mere looking. He could tell that I did not have very good overall complexion and looked pale and white which indicated less haemoglobin content. Just when I was examining my palm which often turned yellow, he pointed it out to me just as I was hesitating whether to consult him on that matter. He as if knowing how to face read, taunted me for some time. Anyway, he asked whether did I like pumpkin, carrot and papaya. What a bingo! I seriously love those! I meant, carrot was often in my diet since I was a vegetarian in college and the only food that Mak Cik seemed to know was the vegetable curry with lots of carrot in it and also because I enjoyed savouring ABC soup especially all the ingredients. I often scooped up carrot, potato and tomato. As for papaya, it was a common fruit in DM too, and I always would like to have it since it helped digestion. So conclusion, my palm and perhaps my overall skin often turned yellow. Orange always got accused by Mum for being the culprit. Poor orange, just because of its colour, it meant to be the one to be blamed.

Anyhow, he was a kind and loving doctor who was not stingy to share his prescription. Mum was slowly healing. The meeting with both west and east doctor really left me flabbergasted how big the differences could be. The east might lose in the duration of healing, but the west would fail if asked to meticulously analyse the whole human well being.

 VS

Anyway, doctors are always the best regardless which side of the compass they originate from. (: Cheers!