A time once travelled

My head is currently just full of words and I’m at loss as to how to organize them. I have no reason to write them down here really. But heck…

There are times when I wish I could write everything here without having to worry of the consequences. I wish I’m like those other bloggers who could bare their soul on their blog and just write down everything they want. But at the risk of going “naked” and being judged and hurt people and make my mother hate me, or my family laughing at me I feel obliged not to strip off my soul.  Freedom of speech is ironic. Attached to it is social responsibility. It is hard to express yourself totally without having to face the consequences. You voice out something about a person, a race, a culture, a religion, and you are being attacked back. Then everything goes politically bad and you wonder which one should go to rehab or seek mental help. So I tend to always play it safe. “Self-censorship” has been the very first thing I’m conscious of when I jot down a post. Because I’m not that brave enough to face what others might think of me and it doesn’t help that many of my visitors are close friends of mine. Not to mention my family na bumabasa rin!

So well while writing this, my youngest brother (photo) who is currently in Dubai pops out of my yahoo messenger and this is our introductory:

Dyoll: hi
Dyoll: are u there?
Me: yep, wazz up
Dyoll: i’m sick
Me: same here
Me: what have u got?
Dyoll: i went to the doctor this am
Dyoll: tonsillitis
Dyoll: as usual
Me: u have to take antibiotics
Dyoll: the doctor gave mr
Dyoll: me
Me: ok, sick leave ka?
Dyoll: was
Dyoll: dili ko tagaan sa doctor
Dyoll: got fever

Then he invited me to a photosharing. Photos of him in his office uniform flooding my window.

Dyoll: seen them?
Me: cute!
Me: super!
Dyoll: thats how i look at work
Me: ganda pare!
Dyoll: like my blood is clogged in my head
Dyoll: kay guot (tight) ang neckline
Me: ha? is it yours or office supply
Dyoll: office supply
Dyoll: they are not my size actually
Dyoll: wala pa ni abot ang inutil nga tailor

I laugh at the word inutil. He does that a lot. Very bad! The rest of the conversation is censored. And I’m running around looking for tissues to wipe out my stupid nose. There’s no ending of this cold!

So back to rambling. Where was I? Thanks bro, I’m lost.

Teka. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking.

Yeah well, I’m quite busy these days, some projects I’m looking forward to finish and some websites needing so much of my attention. They’ve gone hiatus. I’m so well behind of Photoshop now and Dreamweaver and coding. My pc is going slow with all the home videos and photos taken. The hard part is, I’m hardly in those captured scenes. I need to transfer them to cds, but designing the cd covers and labelling them are time consuming.

The other day hubby was smoking in the balcony and was laughing stupidly at the scene he was witnessing down the streets. He told me that I should blog about it. Why? He told me that there’s this guy driving and looking to park. He saw this limited space and stopped in the middle of the street contemplating if he could insert his car in between the others. He pulled in, bumped his hood to the other parked car, tried squeezing, then realized his car is lopsided and wouldn’t finally fit in. Then he drove off!

Apparently, hubby thinks it’s stupidly hilarious and worth blogging about! I told him, “I see these stuff everyday, I don’t even notice it anymore. I see plenty of idiots banging cars when they park and they don’t give a damn shit if they scratch or damage the other cars!” And yeah it’s not worth blogging….

Anyway, the other week, we got invited over dinner. And discovered that in the French language, penis and balls have so many names!!! You might wonder how this thing came about. We were actually playing these adult cards that ask you things relating to a thing. Don’t bother, I don’t get it either. But hey, it’s always refreshing to pick on some French brain.

And I’m super-excited to hear that a friend-couple is expecting a girl. But David was so scared when we told him there’s baby inside M’s tummy. He wanted to leave! And was crying of fear. Poor M had to hide her tummy behind a table. Sorry about that! Ignoramus pa anak ko.

I have to end my rambling. I’m making typos over here and on my brother’s ym. I can’t concentrate writing with his face laughing on my screen. Alors, voila!

Pahabol. To my visitors who couldn’t leave comments on my previous post. I intentionally put off the comment box. Sorry about that.

 

Just off with the medications and splurging on supplements to keep our bodies strong enough to ward off winter germs and viruses. The physical stamina is going strong.

Then. Comes the emotional challenges, the fear and the pains of the unknown. Not-knowing what the future brings is a total anguish. And I pray. Fervently. Day and Night.

My grandma just had her third stroke that left her bed-ridden for several days. Now she can get up and move around with the help of someone. There’s water in her lungs and is under antibiotics. She is going to be 83 this year. Many people die before they reach this age, and others live much longer. And I pray. Fervently. That she may be given more years without much of physical pain.

My father is currently in the hospital. Enlargement of the heart, kidneys malfunctioning. Diabetic. There are still plenty of years to live, to love, to forgive, to say sorry, to laugh, to be happy, to be together. Truly. And I pray. With all my heart that he will have them.

The distance gives fear to my heart and doubts in my mind. Prayers give me strength and hope. And telephone conversations give assurances.

Then just when I start thinking that the bad start of 2007 doesn’t seem to end, a new opportunity knocks in. My future holds some beautiful promises. Once again. And I pray. Thankful. Humbled. Blessed.

Mine is like this:

- On the afternoon of the 31st, hubby and I were still wondering if we could go to a friend’s party. David has a cold. Sinisipon lang. But he had been sick almost the whole month of December that a little drop from the nose is enough to bring us to high alert.

- Early evening, David seemed fine, despite of the cold, so we decided to go. Lola was babysitting. We had knots in the stomach all the way to our friend’s place. I’ve loosened up only after wine and champagne were flowing like eternity, and friends, plus a little party girl kicking heels around.

- Partied all night until 5 am on the first day of 2007. Tried a hand dj-ing hoping hubby would start kicking heels too, (since I know what kind of music that makes him swing), freezing up the host’s brand new apple computer because, oh well, because of my free downloaded mp3s. And spent the following day nursing a hangover headache, dreaming of Vietnamese beef soup and just slept it over since I was just so lazy to go out. I have to say I’ve had a worst hang-over during my single days, so I did just fine with my glasses on NY’s eve. And oh, since I managed to get the right answer during our guessing game without cheating that means my head was still clear. (Yeah, defensive reasoning).

- Then woke up in the most unforgivable time on the 2^nd day with David puking, crying and more puking. I spent the whole day washing vomit, feces, cuddling a sick toddler and basically trembling of fear every time he retched. We brought him to his ped later that night. Diagnosis: Rotavirus. A nasty one that affects more than a million people in France every year, especially during winter. David’s weight dropped drastically that if he didn’t drink what the doctor has prescribed that night, we would end up in the hospital for IV fluids.

- The 3^rd was no better. I alternated tea and coffee to keep myself awake. Overfatigued. Lost. Confused. Irritable. And Scared. Scared. Scared.

- The 4^th day ended with less vomiting and 3 times toilet business. Continued monitoring, mixing up magic potions and all the time praying that things that got inside his mouth would not go out. Half-awake-half-asleep at night, listening to the monsters fighting in his stomach. How could they make so much noise!!!

- On the 5^th Day, things started to turn around with David going back to his hyper self, kicking, screaming, and appetite getting better.

- On the 6^th Day, it was my turn to quietly collapse inside the bathroom. Told hubby I might be catching the gastro. At 11:30 am, we went to David’s doctor for his overall health assessment. Everything looked towards recovery but we were given another full week for his strict diet. I don’t know if the doctor detected the worries my hubby felt, he told us that his family had suffered the same right on Christmas Day. If it was to make us feel better, or to reassure us somehow, he managed. A little bit.

I was feeling a bit fine during the doctor’s trip. But by late afternoon, I was going back and forth to the bathroom that before the day ended, hubby ran to the pharmacy. Yet again. Within 24 hours, I’ve emptied myself 20 times. I wondered how much a body can contain so much liquid, and how much damaged it could do if it’s being drained out at such speed. Of course, I was already feeling the answers. Fever, aches, weakness, dizziness, loss of appetite and that stale taste in the mouth, tongue feeling like sandpaper.

I was looking back at the reflection in the mirror. A black hollow formed in the sunken skin around my eyes. My cheekbones more obvious, my lips cracking, hair totally out of life, skin so pale and my neck growing longer than I imagined. There was only one thought during those moments. David. And how he suffered a lot during these parasitic episodes.

Diet has been mainly on bananas and rice, which I have no problem with. At least for the last 48 hours my appetite is slowly coming back. And oh I’ve been wearing a surgical mask, even when sleeping. How about that!

- As of writing, I could pretend David has fully recovered. But there are still some restrictions to food. There’s still the weight to gain back too. But boy, can he kick and get in my nerves! Last night he almost gave his papa a black eye during their rowdy games. And God forbid, I’m back to yelling! I can’t help it especially when trains, cars, dvds and almost everything else are going flying during tantrums! The kid doesn’t get scared with a woman wearing a mask yelling at him!

This is the start of my New Year. It’s definitely shitty. We totally scratched out “Galette des Rois“. But nothing has dampened my spirit really. It’s one of those times that when shit comes, you just let it happen, let the body recuperate slowly and then move on.