To sum up this week, which feels too draggy and too long, is “words”.

Colleagues are saying how “docile”(wahahaha!) I have been. But all I can think of, is that I have simply exhausted all my words.

This week is a word-intensive one.

Using words to spite, using words to convince. Using words to fight for pride, using words to fight for causes.

I don’t feel like speaking today, and knowing how I always am, that’s pretty much a surprise to those around me. Strangely, it reminded me of something this chap from my secondary school once told me.

I listened to words. I listened to words that I have to put up with. Words that stripped me of dignity.

I cooked up words. To assure.

Then, it was words that became weapons.

Then, it was words that became business.

Then it was words that didn’t mean anything to me.

Then it was words to pitch, again, and again, for something to take off.

Then it was a long evening on Wednesday when I didn’t return home till late from office.

It was a Thursday evening when I alighted at the wrong place, and I strolled past pretty houses that I could never afford to stay in. And then it hit me – I don’t, and have never, belonged.

Meaningless, meaningless words to introduce myself.

Meaningless, meaningless words.

Then, there are words from Minibean. She seems to be mimicking adults, and try to talk gibberish as if she is talking. So cute, I tell you

And then some other words that came in.

“You were always there for me in the past, n baby brought me so much joy. I really wish I could turn back time. I swear to God on my whole family that almost every day I’d go facebook and browse through the photos of you and baby, and it always puts a smile on my face after that. I hate my life now, and I goddamn fucking hate destiny….. “

I chewed back at the past, and thought of the present moment, and it would be a lie to say I don’t feel the same way about life, and destiny.

Destiny and fate, is it always what it is, or is it a better consolation than anything else that couldn’t quite explain? I know not what, and I ain’t sure anymore.

Maybe, chances are meant to be given. Then again, are we ever healed to do that? I know not. I ain’t sure anymore.

At least those words, in comparison, don’t make me sneer at its insincerity(it would have been, in the past, the girls would know hahaha) like those I have to face these days.

This week, there were many moments, even in the company of my colleagues, I would feel the urge to burst into sudden tears, but I could always bite it back. These things make people stronger, and I like the way it is.

I feel like… I feel as if… the next word that I speak will drain me of my last energy.

But at least, I can type.

Yay. Friday. My favourite people are flying back this week.

Next week will be a busy one, and it would be good to keep me away from the meaningless beings in my life.

Anyway.

Things are happening next week, woohoo! It is always such a joy to see things you are building up, taking place. Yay!

Tramadol rocks! But just not enough.

I went to sleep on Tuesday night with a slight sore under my left jaw, and I know it was my lymph node(I nearly said nymph node! Haha! Nympho!) that was causing the pain, and could sense the left throat getting a little rough.

I woke up on Wednesday feeling a little unwell, with the pain stretching itself to my ear. It was like the pain is stuck between a hollow between my throat and my neck, and I couldn’t quite describe where it was.

But I could feel the pain of my lymph node spreading, as if linked by a nerve, to expand its sphere of influence.

By afternoon, I was experiencing sharp, throbbing pain right above the ear, and then, at the back of my head, and then the top of my scalp.

My scalp was so sensitive that any slight tug of my hair when I comb my fingers through it, would cause intense sharp pain that made me yelp.

I had to press the side of my ear, and the back of my skull, just to alleviate the pain. It comes and goes, and comes when I least expect it, like when I tilt my head a certain angle and when I lean down to pick up some stuff.

Excruciating.

The pain got more intense and it felt like someone was stabbing me in the head with a knife repeatedly and I started to feel it was affecting me at work, and then I placed one hand on the points just to make it more bearable.

I didn’t cry during labour, but hell, I was on the verge of bursting into tears because of the pain.

I realised what is worse than a migraine.

A nerve-headache.

One that gets you by the nerves, tugs at your scalp, and crawls its way to every part of your body.

So, after a meeting at Clarke Quay, I scurried to the nearest clinic at Marina Square to get it diagnose.

May told me how the last time there was this really cute doctor there(young, attentive and blarblarblar), and I decided to try my luck.

Imagine my horror when I went into the room and there sat a man who looks older than my dad! He looks more than 70 and I could really feel a shock registered on my face.

I am not quite sure if it was because it wasn’t a young man like I had expected, or was it because I have never met any doctor this aged.

But he reminded me of my dad. And he was nice and assuring he wasn’t like the silly doctor at Takashimaya who doesn’t give his patients a damn.

I noticed the shake in his hand that was probably brought on by age, and as he reached for the thermometer, or the wooden stick(throat is inflamed), or the torch for the ear(no infection, thus it was the nerves, not that the infection spreaded), his pace was one that was diluted by age.

I felt a sadness surging in me.

He wrote the diagnosis as he steadied his hands, and took his time to listen to me as I listed the symptoms and said how the pain was nearly killing me.

He asked if I was allergic to Penicillin or if I have any allergy.

I affirmatively said no, and added I have an allergy to Panadol, though.

I walked out of the consultation room and towards the lady at the counter.

While waiting, he came out to join the lady, as if looking for company. I noticed the slight hitch in his gait, and then I swear I nearly burst out crying.

He sat down beside the lady and spoke in Cantonese, “Your work seems to be endless…”, and the lady replied the list of reports she had to complete.

As she was churning out the medication, she turned to him and reminded him, “She can’t take panadol but this is acetaminophen…”

He “oh..” and thought for a moment, before asking her if there is Tramadol, and to prescribe me with it.

The lady then passed him the prescription slip and patient’s card for him to correct the mistake, just like how a teacher would point out a mistake and the student would write the correct one above it.

I am not sure if I was just a wreck of emotions or what, but I felt bad for him.

Perhaps because, he reminded me so much of my dad. Who recently, as he aged, told me how he doesn’t feel as nimble as he was in the past, his leg is becoming no good(I saw the little hitch in his walk, and I was worried and asked him about it, though he said he doesn’t feel any pain or difference, just that it just isn’t as good as before), and his grasp is just not as steady as before.

When my dad makes mistakes, he will just say how he is getting old, and getting incompetent, unlike before. And then I started to wonder if the doctor was embarrassed, thinking if the lady and I were judging him because he is old.

My dad had insisted on working even though he is past his retirement age, so that he could still gel with the society and feel useful. Sometimes I think he is lonely too, and I wonder if the doctor refuses to retire for the same reason.

***

I took Tramadol last night, and I was told it is a muscle relaxant as well by the lady.

I skipped the pill cos it is supposed to cause drowsiness, and took it only at bedtime. The pain was starting to get really, really bad.

When I was going to sleep, I spent some time with Minibean though I found it incredibly hard to stay focus.

And then I fell asleep.

I felt floaty.

I felt… woohoo, good.

The pain subsided(the pill is for moderate to severe pain), and then it was bearable enough for me to sleep.

I woke up today feeling weightless and as if my hands were too heavy for me to lift.

It was a floaty feeling and I actually, feel.. high.

I read up about Tramadol about how it also acts as anti-depressant and helps to alleviate withdrawal symptoms for opiates.

I am starting to suspect that I have finally found the happy pill I have been looking for.

The pain is still nagging at the back of my head, but I could feel how it is really suppressed by it.

Tramadol rocks man!

I seriously don’t feel well