2013 is leaving....

It is now nearing mid December as 2014 is drawing closer, I realize I have not only grown up a year older but also significantly becoming a lot wiser. I have come to realize it's not going to matter how many breaths we took, but to value those moments that took our breath away and when life gives you a thousand reasons to cry, yet we have a million reasons to smile.

A sad thing in life is when you meet someone who means a lot to you, only to find out in the end that it was never meant to be and you just have to let go. It's true that we don't know what we've got until we lose it, but it's also true that we don't know what we've been missing until it arrives.

In all the delusion about staying young at heart, don’t mean that you have to forgo maturity entirely. And as much as you’d like to go back to your younger years when things were so much less complicated, you’d have to face the fact that life is so much better with the complications tagging along with you.

It took me an hour to walk down memory lane a few days ago back to the house that look so magnanimous to me and the same street that look so long and winding once upon a time ago.

Scrutinizing the same house now, it looks tinier than before and only took me a few strides from the porch to reach the backyard... The street on which I used to walk on to sneak to my then best friend’s house at the other side of the road looks so short and less winding. 

In fact, the incidence of sneaking out crossing the same road became reason for mom to palpitate each time she discovered I crossed it alone. (I got several slashes of the cane and a few days detention).  Now it makes my mom look like she was making a big deal out of nothing!

Yeah…..those were the days and I have cross such a long way to see bigger, better things.

As much as I hate to see 2013 go, I really can't wait to see what 2014 has in store for me.  

I miss that young carefree spirit.

There was a time when I feel it is all right to share everything about me with someone but unfortunately it backfired. Finally I guess it is not okay to share everything, but it was interesting to observe the uneventful outcome of what I did back then.

When I first started a blog, I never really thought of sharing anything with anyone, let alone everyone and that answers why I remain an anonymous.  

But the prospect of having others read you was a real thrill but finally when someone got to read your aura and knowing your true essence, it is now a thriller.

People can be so insanely psychotic and judgmental even if they don't really know you at all.

Which is why I stopped being so honest about certain matters and the reason why I should start to write things which are inspiring in contents.

My life is not a drama but it’s not perfect all the time either.

And most of the time, I wish I were more open, like I used to be.

Because in real, anyone who met me in person will know who I really am…

I really miss that young carefree spirit I once had.

Abang?????......Ewwww

If we ever have our meals out together (diiner /lunch), it normally lasts for an hour, the most. And in within that special one hour we are like the best of friends, after so many weeks of hard work and seriousness. 

At dinner, last night was no different. He was remarking over how wonderful it was for him to have found a much cheaper alternative to his favorite drink, the caramel machiatto from Star****s. 

Me: "Does this taste exactly like your favourite caramel machiatto when chilled,?"

Him: "Yeap. Pandai tak abang?"

 (Am I (abang) not smart?)

                                                                                                       

Tersembur icecream!!!

(the icecream that was melting in my mouth spurred out of a sudden)

Both of us: Bahahahaha nananana

Me: "Awak nak saya panggil awak Abang???"

(You want me to call you abang?)

Him: "EWWWWWWWW, nooo hohohoho"

No offence please to all the wives out there, who calls their husbands “Abang”

I just can’t…                                          

CAN’T call him ‘Abang’.

Been friends for waayyy too long, I guess. 

So I guess we're good, eh Zoul?

(He doesn’t know I have a blog…..)

Aku yg gigit cili...

Have you ever been accused as the one who simply come and go in and out someone's life as you pleased?

Have you ever been accused of trampling on his life so many times as you please? But being him, he would respond ever so nicely despite the fact that he was upset, dissatisfied and utterly disappointed?

Have you ever been the ‘bad’ in that similar spot before?

If you have been the ’bad’ in that spot before, tell me what to do... please?

I think he is not the revengeful, remorseful, hating kind of person and does not hold grudges against another...

I may be moody (where I have fluctuating mood swings, which are totally and completely incomprehensible) admittedly, and had been to the point of being totally and completely rude or dismissive of people but I am never ungrateful.

So, it does not seem silly that he is angered, annoyed and upset with the fact that I acted like he is a mat I can trample on as and when I please.

I disappeared almost completely out of his life after all that has happened and then to come back strolling into his life at my own pleasure. Absurd isn’t it? 

 

Aku yg gigit cili, aku yg terasa pedasnya.

I just need to make a statement.

I will understand if you shut me out completely... 

Of tears and raindrops....

The weather of late has been pretty bleak and rain pours every day of the week and when the sun peeks, we normally don’t get our hopes too high because we know for sure that it wouldn’t be long before the rain starts pouring heavily again.

The holidays will come to an end, not too soon yet but the children seem to have lost patient waiting for the weather to be good. Honestly, I don’t really mind not going to Pangkor Laut, we could go to Batu Feringghi instead or Langkawi. Well.....its 3:1 vote so Pangkor Laut here we come....

Everyday has pretty much been the same; late nights and late mornings, meeting and hanging out with friends, cooking lunch and for dinner I’m applying CIY policy (cook it yourself...hehehehe) It’s been pretty much a routine, actually, every single day since I am back here.

(Four days but sounded like we are already here months)

Truthfully, nothing productive or fruitful has been done to fill in the time. Just hours and hours of sleep, binge and more sleep. I’ve also made several attempts of writing two or three more chapters of  "A fighter to the end" but to no avail and there are  just about thousands of issues on which I have my 2 cents to contribute. Dear me!

After all, change is inevitable, agree?  Is there even a necessity to feel so ashamed for tears that come so naturally? I mean, wouldn’t you cry if you seen how well and fine is Kriss doing right now even when his mom is gone?

It’s just my tears and raindrops...

My heart smiles at such good luck, Alhamdulillah. Truly, Allah is fair. He will not give you hardship or obstacles you cannot handle. He puts you through hardship so that when all the rain and storm is gone, you’d appreciate the rainbow see is even more beautiful.

 Allah is kind. He shall never leave you even if you forget Him at times. In fact, He forgives when you ask for forgiveness.

And I am truly thankful for the blessed life Kriss has now, and for all the good luck that has come tumbling, after all the hardship his daddy had to go through.

But my heart cries; though just a little bit, it cries for her.

Rest in peace my lovely friend.
Al-fatihah.

A craving mom..;)

I am back in my hometown.

The journey was good, despite some minor air pockets and turbulence..

I was thrown from my seat a few time, not that I bounced from my seat high up and landed flat on the floor but my butt did lift a few mm from the seat….hehehehe

When I fly alone and there was such turbulence I would sometime picture myself as falling from thousands feet high. I closed my eyes…pray

And then I die. Alone

But things were different when I was flying with Zoul. When there were turbulences I felt less scared since my tension was somewhat released when I squeezed his hand, at least he was there with me and I wont die alone if we fell….

I have dabai daily since a month ago.  B$5 /plastic container (800gm? Or less?) but since I love it so much Zoul would go to all length to get them for me. Hmmmm….so far so good….supply is over demand. Thanks daddy!!

It’s been three days since I had the last dabai and now there is none left for me to savour.

What is dabai? Some of you might ask..

Dabai is a seasonal fruit that could be found in Borneo. You can tell fresh dabai from the colour of the tip where the stalk was (upright end) it’s yellowish, if fresh but it’s white if not so fresh although still edible.

 The locals scrape the skin before consuming but I eat without scrapping them. Dabai has to be soaked first in warm water (not hot water) until they get tender before consuming.. Zoul will do it for me since my judgment was never precise and I would end up eating not tender enough dabai.  I like dipping them in soy sauce which gives the ‘lemak masin’ taste but Zoul doesn’t like it. Alhamdulillah….I always had more than I bargain for. Thanks daddy!

I told Zoul that maybe we should plant the seeds here so we can have endless supply of dabai but then Zoul said my craving for dabai will soon be over. No need to go to such length.

Well, I don’t think so.  

Oh, I cannot wait to go back to Brunei where gloriousssss dabai awaits!

Part seventeen: A fighter to the end

Cotton candy in my mouth

The specific organism infecting Kriss was identified as the serratia which at it’s worst could cause meningitis which could result in sudden death. (inflammation of the protective membranes covering the brain and spinal cord,).

Serratia  is a coomon cause of hospital-acquired infections, especially in neonatal intensive care units (NICU). In order to eradicate Serratia outbreaks in NICUs, including all healthcare procedures such as hand washing with antiseptic gel, enhanced cleaning and disinfect of medical equipment and wards, use of single-patient medical instruments and earliest discharge of the infants from hospital.

Alhamdulillah the infection has cleared off. Thanks to friends and family members for their supports and prayers. Kriss had passed the critical stage.

He is now in his second dose of Indomethacin. According to the nurse in charge, he would be taking the drug for 6 days and the PDA would be reviewed soon. Hopefully the opening to his heart will be closed by then and he wouldn't need a second round of Indomethacin. If he does, there will be a two-week break before they could restart treatment.

Sometimes I feel like I am asking too much from God, but there's nothing else that I could do at this point except pray.

Sixteen hours ago...I held my son in my arms for the first time, two weeks after he was born... I had tears rolling down my cheeks. I was excited. I wanted to kiss him but I was scared that I might cause him to have another infection, so I had to be contented with just rocking him slowly in my arms for about 15 seconds while the kind-hearted nurse cleaned his incubator.

I held back the air I inhaled, in case my exhaled breath might infect him again. Then I slowly kissed both sides of his tiny cheeks...any mother hates seeing her infant ill. If I could just wave a wand to instantly heal his tiny body or take his place to free him from the discomfort…I wish. But his body must fight it out on his own.

These bonding moments together is like I am having cotton candy melting in my mouth. My heart feels at utmost peace.

The same nurse allowed me to hold him again...for about 10 seconds before I started writing again.here ... those moments were the best seconds of my life....

I still cry...but I'm taking this better now.

I hope Kriss would be discharge soon, so he could come home with us. I don't know how much time I have left...since little nodules have merrily emerged on my left chest where there used to be a bouncing breast onced.

Part sixteen: A fighter to the end

Think Positive

It is confirmed that Kriss has an infection...gram negative bacteria. These bacteria are extremely drug-resistant.

Despite advances in healthcare, neonatal sepsis, and especially that caused by Gram-negative rod bacteria, is a significant cause of morbidity and mortality among preterm and very low birth weight (VLBW).

The specific organism infecting Kriss will be identified in a couple of days. 

The other two babies with infection don't look good. One of them is so skinny you could thread her through a needle and the ribs bones extremely protruding. She barely moves. If Kriss is infected by the same organism suffered by the other two...It really scares me to even think about it.

.

At the moment he looks tired, but he looks better than yesterday. He has started taking 8ml of baby formula every 3 hours.

I had my chest x-rayed, thanks to Dr Eeson of O&G. If he leaves it to the Oncologist, I’d probably be in the long list wait which like it will never happen. I took a look at the film...the left lung doesn't look good. In fact, it looks pretty bad...

For most cancers, the grade is a measure of how abnormal the cancer cells look under the microscope. The grade is usually assigned by a number from I to IV. The lower the number, the more the cancer cells look like cells from normal tissue. Cancer staging will determine the severity to which cancer  cells has developed by spreading to other normal tissue.. 

It  Stage lV of most cancers patients is when the cancer has spread or is at a point when it cannot be successfully treated or cured in most people. But sometimes a successful treatment can be found, so a person with cancer should never give up,

I hang on to my husband for strength. He is absorbing the whole situation better than I do, thinking positively most of the time. He truly believes that the antibiotics will work well for Kriss, and chemo will do wonders for me.

...do pray for us

Part fifteen: A fighter to the end

God will help me.

I still cry daily......

Experiencing the birth of a premature or a sick new born, is so overwhelming and traumatic. Watching Kriss struggles to survive is extremely a difficult time for me and hubby. It’s like stepping into a foreign captivity where hope and faith keep us going on strong..

Kriss didn't react well to indomethacin. It causes havoc in his kidney and the doctors suspected him of having an infection too. I was not too surprise since he is placed together with two other premature babies who are having an infection. I wonder why he is not isolated from them on the first place.

Last night he was taken off milk because his tummy suddenly couldn't process the amount of 14ml baby formula fed every three hours. Today the doctors restart feeding him with 5ml baby formula every three hours.

The next plan is to stabilize his blood count and blood gas, and retry indomethacin.
Anything for him goes as long as it helps him to be better.

I have come across, surviving miracle babies. In one case, a baby who was born at 24 weeks gestation weighted 500gm is finally discharged from the NICU after 4 months intensive care and, a 28-week baby weighted 780gm who now is still in the same care unit struggling to survive...

My biggest concern is I may not be able to visit him five times daily like I used to now due to my deteriorating condition.

There are little nodules rapidly appearing on my mastectomy scared areas which I finally had to notify the O& G doctor who then promptly notify the surgical team. My appointment with the oncologist team is urgently carried forward. They scan and restage my condition for advance treatment. I'll probably start chemo treatment sooner than the initial planned.

God will help me pull through......

Part fourteen: A fighter to the end

The C-sec

The C-sec was on the 25th. I was not worried about the surgery then,since it was my fifth in five years, minus the oral surgery when I was eighteen to remove a set of wisdom teeth  that was causing problems since there was not enough space for them to grow at the back of my mouth, That was the first time I was put under GA.

What worried me the most was not knowing whether Kriss would be ready to stand on his own after his birth. These past 32 weeks, I have been breathing and eating for the two of us and after the C-sec would he be ready to start breathing on his own?. I prayed in good  faith he would..

I'm writing this on the hospital bed, feeling severely depressed. I cry at least 7 times a day. Some days I managed to keep my spirit high, stressing myself everything will turn out fine otherwise I am a wreck.

 
The passing by in the other world, it's a personal experience with no testimony to describe the exact feeling of that moment but I know that moment will come soon.  The problem is I don’t really know the exact time and how I will face that moment. 

When I was injected the spinal and epidural anesthetic before the C-sec, I firmly believed that my son would survive the ordeal.. The shots had numbed parts of my body as to block pain while I stayed awake and aware of the movement of my lower body and there was a sense of feeling and tugging during the surgery in progress.

Finally, I was feeling so happy when my baby screamed the moment he was born. It was a beautiful cry. He continued to cry, his voice echoed the operating room. All at once I had tears rolling down and completely forgotten all the pain I had to suffer during thirty two weeks of pregnancy.

He was then taken away and I didn't get to see him until a day after...

A few hours later he was diagnosed with Respiratory Depressed Syndrome, which is expected in premature babies. I was so unhappy and sad. It really pissed me off since my effort of enduring pain of the dexa shot twice failed to save my baby from suffering RDS.

 

But that wasn't all. He has a condition term as PDA (Patent Ductal Asteriosus). Before birth, these arteries are connected by a blood vessel ie ductus arteriosus, a vital part of fetal blood circulation. In new borns the DA closes within minutes or up to a few days.

However, in Kriss case the DA which is suppose to close after birth remains open (patent) flooding his left lungs with poor oxygen  create strain in the heart and increases the blood pressure making it difficult for him to breath.

I have struggle and confronted lots of obstacle in my life before. I have cancer cells in my body right this minute, multiplying happily. But even that doesn't make me as depressed as knowing the uncertainty of my son's survival..

Today he started on Indomethacin, a type of drug that could shrink and eventually close the hole in his heart.

But Kriss looks so beautiful, He's fair with sharp nose and long thin fingers and toes.

I love him to pieces already...

Do pray for us, for his complete recovery

Part thirteen: A fighter to the end

Kristina my little angel

When I revisited my gynecologist I was given a shot of dexamethasone on my right butt, and another same shot a few days later on my left. The purpose of the dexa jab is to accelerate maturation of fetal lungs, decrease number of neonates with respiratory distress syndrome and improves survival in preterm delivered neonates. Optimal gestational age for use of dexa therapy is 31 to 34 weeks of pregnancy

The first shot was pretty painful, but the second one I felt so much less pain. But what I did not expect was this lethargy that engulfed me the entire weekend plus headache, skin rash and depress.

It could be due to the side effect of the dexa or may be due to the uncontainable rapid multiple factor of the cancer cell zapping up all the nutrients I eagerly consumed for the sake of my unborn baby boy. I can never tell for sure of which causes the lethargy, but I was lying on the couch like I'm already on chemo treatment. I had to break a promise to my little girl that we would play with her color book.

My angle, Kristina has a lot to cope with at such a young age. She already understands what being sick means, because Mummy is always too tired or too sick to play with her. It was hard on me but I sense that sometimes she was depressed too.

She understands that sometime the priority for papa to be with mommy and the nights papa has to stay at the hospital, she was sad because she has to go to bed with no kiss from either of us. Mr. Hubby sees the importance that she shared her feelings with him about me, about herself as it will help her feels loved especially when most of her time was spend with her nanny at home when I stayed in hospital. She wanted to visit me as much as she could as I wish I could be with her as much as I could too.

As she softly touches the place where my left breast used to be, she would ask me "Hurt here? Not hurt here?" as she moved her little cute fingers on my reconstructed right breast. She knows too well that she is forbidden from asking me to lift her up and carry her in my arms. As a mother I could not resist such pleasure to be able to do it, so I did once a while lift her up and carry her anyway, especially when papa is not around.

How I wish for all these restrictions and limitations to be over soon so I could resume a normal life.

Part twelve: A fighter to the end.

Kriss Eden

Kriss Eden is the name I've been disputing for my baby boy against hubby. It's a pretty name and it’s easy to remember and Eden means heaven or paradise. I trained Kristina to say the name repeatedly to papa so papa won’t forget the name.  Finally Mr. Hubby agrees with the name but warned me, Eden means I/me/mine back in his home town in Gemenceh Negeri Sembilan.

I think a short, simple name is kinda suitable considering he'd be born premature. I hope Mr. Hubby won't trick me and register him as Kriss Oden or Kriss Udin which sounds more Malay. On second thought, maybe I should register him myself after he was born.....

I saw my gynae today for a detail scan. Kriss is in a good condition. His lungs and kidneys are good so are all the other internal organs. The blood flow is good and his heartbeat is normal. He weighs approximately 1.6 kg but doc said it would be great if he could weigh at least 1.8kg or more at 32 weeks of my pregnancy.

I could workout towards 2 kg approaching the targeted week and I will seriously deal with the excess fat later. ( I think I will join London 360 degree absolute curves) or let's just hope chemo will help me lose some kilogram.  

Kind of a wishful thinking since I gained 8 to 10 kg after doing my last chemo treatment for my first mastectomy. Bad steroids!!!

I was ordered to start sick leave beginning 20th September to seriously rest from doing any office work (Mr. Hubby I quit house work too) and I'll be admitted in the hospital on the 24^th September and  the C-sec will be on the 25th.

So, do pray for us my dear friends. I sure hope that this little fighter that has been busy stretching my once flat tummy post DIEP-flap to its limit, to be born strong and healthy. Then maybe I wouldn't have such a hard time dealing with (Puking!!!  Sorry guys, can't help myself) Come the CHEMO treatment next!

I love you so much Kriss. We will fight the battle together lil one!

Part eleven: A fighter to the end

Fake

This morning while I was getting ready for work Kristina, my daughter lost me my breast!!! It’s a fake one that was a “gift” after my previous breast reconstruction.

Each time I took off my bra, as always Kristina would grab my fake breast and would toyed and fooling it around with great admiration. She reminded me of my own experience when I was her age, I was  amazed at my grand dad’s magic teeth. He could pull it in and out off his gum with ease and brushed his teeth while singing. Years later did I know it was his fake teeth (denture).

My fake breast is actually a breast-shaped pocket filled with fiber and given free of charge by the Breast Cancer Welfare Association. An organization founded in 1986 by medical  specialists  to cater the need for peer support  of  women with breast cancer. It is a self supporting  body registered with the Registrar of Societies in Malaysia and a member of the International Union against Cancer (UICC) and Reach to Recovery International (RRI). 

After more than four years of usage, the fiber had gone flat so I refilled it with shoulder pads or wool since I ran out of the fiber refill which I bought for refilling the pocket nearly six months ago

I frantically ransacked my room for my fake breast but it was nowhere to be seen. The shoulder pads I use for refilling were strewn all over the dressing table, but the pocket itself was gone. I couldn't possibly go to work with one reconstructed breast on the right and a flat chest on the left.

If I knew, the cancer cell were going after my other breast I would've saved myself the trouble of going through the 12-hour breast reconstruction surgery and no need to stuff my bra before going to work.

Part eleven: A fighter to the end.

 What is a true friend?

At lunch break, on the second day at work, I was at the café and was happily gulping down my second glass of iced orange juice and the time was about 12.30 pm and walked in Lady Dee the PA to the CEO. Nobody talks much to her because she builds this invisible wall around her that warns others of her reluctance to socialize with any Tom, Dick or Harry. 

She only talks to a privilege few, and that day I was apparently the chosen one. She landed on the chair opposite mine munching a bit of this and that, making faces at everything that touched her palate. She really looks silly while at that. I ignored her, because I only speak when I am spoken to.

There were two other lady walked in and we chatted a bit and then they left and I was alone with LD once again. Suddenly she broke the ice, ask how I was progressing with job…blabla. She stood up, walked over to my side, grabbed my upper arm and said "Why do you suddenly got fat?"
 

I was speechless, uncertain what to say, how to react..

Then she she grabbed the other arm and said "See, fat here too".

"Errm... I always bloat like a hippo during pregnancy".
She looked surprise to know that I am pregnant.

"But you have fat all over you" she added

I rest my case.

Another 'friend' visited me at home after my mastectomy. She was surprised to see that I had my hair cut short. The last time she saw me, I had a head full of wavy hair at shoulder length. I decided to cut it short because when I woke up after the previous surgery, I had dried up blood matting my hair down to the scalp. So I learned my lesson well and with chemo treatment coming up it’s neat to keep my hair short.

Laughing aloud, probably thinking it was funny, she reminded me of my plan to perm and highlight my long hair but it all ended up with a boy cut style.

I could ignore her scornful and insensitive remark, if she kept it short and brief but she choose to repeat herself over again with giggles that sound stupid while pointing her ugly fingers at my head, it irritates me to the moon.

"I did highlight and then perm my hair, remember? You have the picture in your mobile!!"
"Yeah, yeah, but you look funny with this hair style now", she insisted.
"I'm going bald soon" I added.
"Still..." she continue to laugh louder

And these remarks came from a woman who came complaining to me, about someone commented the amount of food she was pilling up in her plates, not one but two were as high as the Himalayas during a pot luck gathering a few months back which she found annoying then. And this is the same lady who constantly complains that people always make fun of her big tummy that looks like she is forever pregnant when she actually is not. I would expect her to have some sensitivity towards others as she is obviously so in tuned with her own predicament.

I see friendship as standing back to back both facing the world and protecting each other, friends do not let friends get hurt. True or best friends never ever willfully hurts the other, a friend would rather die than hurt or blindside their friend.

But life would be colorless without such irk irritations.

It makes me realize what a nice person I am.

I'm thankful...

Part ten: A fighter to the end

 The Power of food

Making an incision in the skin, which typically requires cutting through all of the layers of the skin, can result in scarring, regardless of where the surgery is performed.

Of course, surgery performed by a less skilled surgeon may result in a greater degree of scarring, but in most cases the skill of the surgeon is not a factor on the amount of scarring that takes place.

Why is it the skill of the surgeon make a difference in many cases?

 It’s because they can’t control all factors that determine how badly you will scar. Certain factors are beyond control and these risk factors cannot be changed in determining how bad the scar is after surgery..

I was feeling grateful this time round, the scar was less horrendous compared to the first mastectomy I had four years ago. In addition my left shoulder was a bit tense for a few weeks and frequent massages makes it less tensed.

There was more fluid to be drained this time. The drainage tubes were giving me so much pain and being pregnant made it even worst. I couldn't lie on my back, it makes me breathless and I couldn't lay comfortably on my left because of the tubes. So I had to be contented looking at the sink on my right day after day, and lying in the same position, it’s giving me a bedsore worse than the surgery itself.

On the whole, the recovering process was okay. I don't believe in not eating certain food would supposedly delayed the healing progress. On the other hand I don't believe in eating a lot of certain food would speed up the healing progress.

Instead, I ate what I well felt like eating.

I remember when I was recuperating from my DIEP-flap (breast reconstruction) at the plastic surgery ward, the hospital attendant who delivered breakfast whispered to me with all her good good intention in mind...

"I put these eggs here because they tell me to but please don't eat them if you want to heal quickly. These eggs would make your wound worse if you eat them after an operation. They will leave puss mixed blood worse than a diabetic patient". She looked so concerned as her eyes wondered over the two tubes that came out of my right breast and the other two from my tummy. I bet she gave the same advice to other patient as well and I could see two uneaten eggs in each of their trays, except mine.

The DIEP-flap was a twelve hour surgery. I continued to sleep until I was only woken up by the nurse the next day. I had the morphine taken off two days later when I suddenly noticed a man opposite my bed, his left foot wrapped and dangled from rods screwed to the bed. His wife was with him. I noticed she visited him daily to feed and change his clothes. He is a traffic police officer whose foot got run over by a lorry, it wrecked and damaged completely the bones and nerves of his foot. He is waiting for his surgery.

By the worried look all over his face, visitors visiting, would be thinking he is the one with cancer, instead of me. He looked so down and depressed. He didn't talk to anyone, or make eye contact with anyone.

His wife and mom were watching me in horror when I cleaned up all the food in my tray. Curious, they ask, don’t I care of the bad effect of certain food I ate on the healing process of my surgical wounds. So I said I did care...that's why I ate everything. I just had to recover quickly to go back home to my daughter.

Then of course I had to explain about food pyramid, vitamins and minerals, like I was teaching them a Form 1 Physical Ed. I guess she told her hubby what I told them about the food and being positive because the next day he sat up and began smiling at me, and ate everything on his tray. The patient before me who had free DIEP-flap was in the same ward for 52 days. I was discharged after 10 days.

That's the power of food in the healing process......