Just Do It

When I was growing up, I would always wonder to how my father could be so cool even when he was under pressure at work. Working at the press is no joke. And did I mention that he was known as Mr. Cool? But of course still water runs deep. He was stressed out! There is no denying to that fact. Running the news desk is definitely not for the faint hearted. One fine day, I decided to ask him THE question! I asked, 'Daddy, how do you go about running the desk under severe stress?' And he had three words for me, 'Just do it.' He then told me that it is something that he had to do, there are no other ways about it and that he had to do it well. In other words, just take the plunge and do it.

I have been thinking of his words of late and when I reflect back on what has happened since Joel started Year One. I now fully understand what he meant many, many years back. I have always hated driving at the time when the sun is not out shining. And I had to do it when Joel started schooling in this new school. And so I adopted this 'Just Do It' mantra. I WAS stressed. I was up at 5am. I was in a new environment. I was exposed to so many chemicals. I had to take the 'famous interchange' where the flyover that was built to reduce the jam is an epic failure. It stops at the point where the congestion is at its worst! Talk about efficiency and common sense. Though this interchange is a nightmare, it cuts the time of the journey to Joel's school by half. To survive this interchange, you need guts! Lots of it. You have to be ruthless, brutal and yet make sure your car does not get smashed or even scratched. You have to make sure you are as close as possible to the car in front till it is like almost kiss-ass (make sure you do NOT kiss someone's ass), all senses alert that when there is a small opening, put on the signal and switch lanes immediately and then inch slowly like snails until you're out of it. Sounds like mission impossible eh? And I H.A.T.E it!

As I approach this interchange everyday, I will be chanting the 'Just Do It' mantra. I know I cannot avoid it. I know I have to do it. And I know that I have to do this everyday.  By adopting this 'Just Do It' attitude, it actually lessened the stress. Instead of stressing out, going bonkers and freaking out having to face the situations that I hate, my mind, body and soul instead, focus all their energy to get the job done. And to do it well. And to end up in one piece and arrive safely at my destination (wherever that is). It made a huge difference.

I have been thrown in a few situations where I wanted to scream that I did not ask for this! But instead I chant the 'Just Do It' mantra and move on to get whatever it is that needs to be done and found that I am indeed calmer in stormy seas. And I realised that stressing out and huffing and puffing around like the big-bad-angry-wolf will not make the stressful situation any better nor will it go away. And if you are one who is constantly looking for shortcuts and tries to squeeze yourself out of ANY difficult situation that comes flying across your path, assuredly I say to you, you will either end up six-feet under prematurely or you will be one of those famous epic failures in life.

Shall we all 'Just Do It?'

Perfect?!! NOT!!!!

I really do not understand why people would perceive my life as perfect. When I say that I am stressed, they will ask, 'Why are you stressed? What is there to be stressed about?! Your life is PERFECT!' Perfect my ass. Even THAT is not perfect. Try living my life for even one hour and we shall see whether you would still deem it to be 'perfect'.

How can my life be 'perfect' when I have to fight Idiopathic Anaphylaxis every single day? And now I don't even know what the trigger is! I have been eating fish for 35 months and then WHAM!!! out of the blue, I get a near-anaphylaxis attack after consuming fish which I have been doing so every week. It was supposed to be salicylates. Then it became chemicals. And then now FISH??!! WTH??!!

How can my life be 'perfect' when I have a son at the age of seven who still asks me every single day about death though it has been 35 months? His seven-year-old mind has been seared with death ever since my near-death experience. And he is afraid of loosing his mother and everyone else who is dear to him.

How can my life be 'perfect' when I am constantly running away from people who reek with perfume, places that reek with fragrances/chemicals and even my own house when the neighbour's cooking or detergent wafts over??

How can my life be 'perfect' when I can count the types of food which I am able to consume with 10 fingers and still have some left-over fingers?

How can my life be 'perfect' when I have a hormone problem which plagues me every month and the gynecologist said that the only way to rectify this is to have synthetic hormone replacement? And did I forget to mention that I have to be in the hospital for one week and be placed on high alert?! And there is a possibility of me reacting after that one week.

How can my life be 'perfect' when I cannot even plan my life for 2 bloody days ahead??!! Make that one day.

How can my life be 'perfect' when I do not have 'perfect health'?

How can my life be 'perfect' when I can't even blow my top (as my immunologist said that the stress would lower my immune system and thus cause me to be susceptible to even more anaphylactic attacks)! You mean I can't scream and swear??!! Never mind I will cuss and swear with my pen. Ooops! I mean with my keyboard.

Shall I go on? Or do you still deem my life to be 'PURR-FECT'??!! Just because you can't deal with your own insecurities and setbacks, it does not give you the right to judge and to tell me in dripping sarcasm that my life is 'perfect'.

Now let me tell you why my life is 'perfect' since you insist on it being so.

My life is 'perfect' because I choose to fight for it every single day. Or on some days every second.

My life is 'perfect' because I am grateful for what I still have.

My life is 'perfect' because I refuse to be bullied in life and choose to stand on my ground whether people like it or not.

My life is 'perfect' because I refuse to compromise my principles.

My life is 'perfect' because I have my family and good friends.

My life is 'perfect' because I believe in equality and in being fair. I do not believe in being shortchanged in life.

My life is 'perfect' because I choose to be happy.

My life is 'perfect' because I refuse to wallow in depression.

My life is 'perfect' because I refuse to be a failure.

My life is 'perfect' because I choose to embrace the storms in life with courage.

My life is 'perfect' because I have inner-peace. And THAT cannot be bought.

And my life is 'perfect' because I am imperfect.

So the next time you decide to have snide remarks about my life being 'perfect', please run it through your gray matter (if you have any) before you open your mouth and know that there is no such thing as a 'perfect' life on planet Earth.

The Perseverance of a Lifetime

These six weeks have been the the most fully utilized holiday that I have had since the anaphylaxis attack 33 months ago which had totally changed my life 180 degrees.

What did I do, you asked? I did what I have been doing all these 33 months which is fighting the good fight of IA. The difference? I went ahead and walked in the disgustingly smelly, gooey and slippery mud. Though I have been trudging in the mire all this while, this round I made sure I wore boots that were knee-high and a mud-proof coat and I walked through the mud unsullied. And I walked on. On and on and on and on. Of course I had mud slung onto parts of my face that were exposed. But this time, I protected my eyes with goggles. My head with a cap. And my face with masks. Tons of masks. 

And what did I do during these 6 weeks? I went out! I met up with friends whom I have not seen in a decade. I practiced driving in the blinding storm to my son's new school. I made sure I got used to driving in all sorts of weather and at all sorts of time of the day. I made new types of food that I have not eaten in these 33 months. I started adjusting my waking up times to be earlier bit by bit as I would need to be up at 5am when school starts. I had holiday projects with the little young man. I cleared the garden. I fell sick. And I had two near-anaphylaxis attacks. But I refused to wallow in depression. I took my anti-histamines and made sure life went on. And whatever methods that did not work, I threw it out of the window and applied a new one. With no self-condemnation that I failed. With no self-kicking or cursing myself that I failed. Because in life, as long as we do not give up, we do not fail even if we fall trying. And I can proudly say today that I tried. I did fall. But I got up again. And at a faster pace this time. And the getting up was much easier. And in all that I did during these six weeks, the little young man was with me. In this persevering journey of mine.

And so as I am writing this, the Joel of today compared to six weeks ago has grown enormously and tremendously. He has become such a confident little boy. He is no longer afraid of of new situations or people like he used to be. And even if he was afraid, he did not show it and he could even stay in that situation for hours, enjoying himself and having fun. He became bold. We no longer have to have a tug of war where going out is concerned. In all those months of depression this year, I became a recluse, hiding like a hermit in the house. And Joel picked up this behavior from me. It was a struggle to bring him out for an outing as he would want to 'stay in the house forever' as he puts it. Yup, he picked up depression from his mother. Going out to the garden was fine. But an outing to the mall, to meet people, was a HUGE struggle. He was petrified of people. He hated to leave the house, which had become his sanctuary, when in fact there was nothing for him to hide from in the first place. Today, he is a totally different person. And I am screaming 'Hallelujah' at this amazing transformation that I see in him.

Like I wrote in one of my previous posts, I am in this race where I constantly have to jump over hurdles after hurdles after hurdles. And at many, many times, I thought I would have crashed into the hurdles and be permanently disabled in my soul as a result of the crash. But it is a miracle that I somehow not only managed to survive but to also have a clean jump. And the more amazing part is that, the little young man at the age of six, managed to clear the hurdles with me and jumps with joy that I had made it through. And it is so rewarding to see him grow as a person although his mother has failed numerous times in so many areas.

So in one week's time, the both of us will be on our new journey. This journey begins in a new year, a new environment, meeting new people, facing new challenges and new adventures. A good friend of mine asked me to whether I am ready for this new phase. Am I ready? Then I asked myself, 'Will I ever be ready?' We can prepare ourselves till the moon becomes blue and until the cows come home and yet we would only know whether we are ready when we are thrown into that situation. And so yes, I have sharpened my sword, strengthened my armour, fed my body, soul, spirit and mind. So yes, hopefully I will be ready for the battles, adventures, journey and to continue on with the perseverance of a lifetime.

So as we move on to a new year, a new phase, let's all persevere on in our lives. Let's move on to greener pastures and to the land of milk and honey. What say you?





33 months ago was:
The Day I Met Death

The Ball That Was Unluckily Lucky

“STRIKE!!!!” And the crowd screamed themselves hoarse and in wild abandon. People slapped the back of the bowler congratulating him and told him that he played really well. The congratulations just kept on coming. Finally, he was able to sit and take it all in. He had WON! He picked up his lucky ball, kissed it, gave it a little polish and kept it in the bag. And the strikes never stopped striking.

7 years later

“That was the 5^th game that you had lost in a row!” his manager roared. “What the hell is happening to you? You have never played this bad in your entire life!” He just sat there dejected, with his head in his hands. His manager resigned on the spot and stormed out of the room in rage. He picked up his lucky ball and said, ‘You are not so lucky after all.’ And he threw the lucky ball into the mirror and shattered the glass into a million pieces.

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Lucky? I don’t think there is such a thing as luck to winning a game. Bowling can be akin to life. One needs dedication, patience and perseverance. You cannot expect to strike and not end in the gutter without practicing. You need to put your heart into it. The bowler and the game have to be one. You can’t live your life without investing in it. There will be bad games. And you will have bad days. There will be strikes. And there will be rolling-in-the-gutter times. There will be spares. There will be accidental fouls (or on purpose). And you will have failures. And sometimes failure after failure after failure. The one thing is to never give up because your break will come. It may come in 5 years, or even 10. Some may come in 2 years. Some 20. There are NO SHORT CUTS to winning the game or in life. And the constant changing of lanes are never easy. It is a constant challenge. You just have to learn to adjust and adapt.

How would I know so much, you ask? I was that lucky ball. After he threw me into the mirror and left me lying in that dark corner, injured, he left. He had abandoned me. I knew it wasn’t the ‘lucky’ ball’s fault. I felt it in his fingers for years. It started with a slight twitch. And then the tremors. The struggle to keep his grip and the struggle to keep me steady as he bowled me onto the freshly oiled lane. The sudden jerking instead of the smooth delivering hook that he always had. Parkinson’s. It came upon him like a thief in the night. But he lived in denial.

The cleaner who came in to clean the place saw me, picked me up and told me that it wasn’t my fault. He told me stories of how he used to bowl when he was young, but he never had the courage to go pro. People told him he had that Midas touch. But fear won over. The fear of failure. The fear of rejection. The fear of not knowing what would come next if he stepped out of his comfort zone. And he regretted that decision for life. Now in his spare time, he coaches young kids who want to learn how to bowl but who could not afford to do so. And me? I guess I am just ‘lucky’ because I get to be part of the lives of the young, talented and eager-to-learn kids as they learn how to bowl. I get to feel them grow in their grip, in their hand position, in their delivering hook and in their confidence. And to me, that is as good as a ‘strike’!

The Journey Thus Far

I wrote this while I was going through a very, very tough period during the month of August. I would like to share this with you here.

29 months. That’s roughly 870 days. A total of 20,880 hours. Which is equivalent to 1, 252, 800 minutes or 75, 168, 000 seconds. Time which is enough to have 3 babies and yet have an extra 2 months. In 29 months, a baby would have learned to eat, smile, turn-over, crawl, walk, run, talk, hum, sing and do a multitude of tasks. For me, 29 months has been a journey of waking up everyday wondering whether it would be my last, whether some chemical would trigger another episode from hell, whether my body would overload and go into overdrive or silence in my head, bowels and senses. 29 months of taking one day at a time. 29 months of pushing my body daily to overcome this condition. 29 months of roller coaster rides. 29 months of wondering why I was spared from death to face so many challenges everyday.

These 29 months can be likened to being enrolled in the school of hard knocks. It’s like standing, getting slammed by a bullet train, getting up again and standing up and trying to be strong again. And then the cycle repeats itself.  It’s like the scene from Matrix where Neo fought with Agent Smith in the underground train station. One can never know when or the direction of the next blow or kick is coming from or what ‘form’ or ‘person’ Agent Smith will take. Or when the attacks are going to cease or escalate. It’s a continuous fight everyday. I just can’t wait for the day where I am strong enough that when the attacks come, all I have to do is to just raise my palm and the bullets will stop in mid-air and drop to the ground. And all the attacks of Agent Smith will be futile and I can overcome and destroy ‘my Agent Smith’.

In these 29 months, I have learned how to survive in a chemical world when it was chemicals that almost killed me. I have fought and lost a lot of battles. I have gone through a lot pain, frustrations, anger, denial, defeat and depression. I have asked myself countless times, ‘Am I a failure?’  ‘What kind of life am I living?’ ‘What’s the point of cheating death and living in pain?’ And then one day it struck me. Who said that people like me who struggle with life are failures?  And then I thought of the people who fight for their lives daily like me but who are worse off than me. People with incurable diseases. The girl who is allergic to water. Or the boy who is allergic to air and who has to live in a bubble for the rest of his life. And the girl who goes into anaphylactic shock when exposed to cold or cool temperature. These are people who live victoriously even in their imperfect circumstances. These are the people who persevere to be a shining light in this world even though their lives are engulfed in darkness many times.

People in general tend to applaud for the people who overcome their hurdles triumphantly. We tend to not give credit to those who are still in the midst of fighting their battles. I beg to differ. I think people who are in the midst of fighting their battles, who persevere even when they are down trodden, who refuse to let the darkness blind them are to be applauded as winners. They are the champions my friends. Why? It’s because they refuse to back down from the fight. They refuse to wallow in self-pity. They go on day to day ‘living’ their lives. And by living, it’s not living by waking up, going through the motions of the daily routines and then going to bed and repeating the whole cycle the next day and the day after that. They live their lives everyday not knowing whether there will be a tomorrow. And they make an impact with their lives EVERYDAY. They shine like a beacon. They affect others to live their lives to the fullest. They encourage, motivate and help others to ‘LIVE’ when they themselves struggle with the simplest thing in life.

Michael J. Fox is one of the winners whom I applaud. He was such a talented and brilliant actor. And to be struck with Parkinson’s disease at such a young age and at the peak of his career must have been a terrible blow for him. But yet today, he thanks Parkinson’s for saving his life, as it was a turn-around-point for him. His life was spiraling down with his drinking addiction. And when he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s he drank even harder and fell into depression and it affected his marriage and his relationship with his eldest son. He said that it was during a lucid moment that he realized that his life was in his own hands and thus turned himself around. He said, ‘‘In fact, Parkinson’s has made me a ­better person. A better husband, father and overall human being. Life delivered me a catastrophe, but I found a richness of soul. I owe it to Parkinson’s, no doubt about that.”[1] And today he continuously contributes to the research of Parkinson’s and continues to encourage fellow patients even though his disease has progressed. And to me, this man is a winner.

Another person whom I applaud is Christopher Reeve. Yes, the original Superman who wore his undies on the outside. Paralyzed after a riding accident, the man who once ‘flew’ high up in the sky became a quadriplegic. The accident had separated his head from his spine. He fell into depression, contemplated with suicide, and went through operations to re-attach his spine to his head, and painful rehabilitation. Though he could not walk ever again, he was a winner because he spent his remaining years of his life helping and encouraging patients who were in the same situation as him. Though he never walked again, he regained back some motor function, and was able to sense hot and cold temperatures on his body. And that was impossible for someone in his situation. He also battled allergies and asthma since childhood. And he reacted severely to the many medications that he had to take after the accident. In Kessler, he tried a drug named Sygen, which was theorized to help reduce damage to the spinal cord. The drug caused him to go into anaphylactic shock and his heart stopped. He believed he had an out-of-body experience and remembered saying, "I'm sorry, but I have to go now", during the event. In his autobiography, he wrote, "and then I left my body. I was up on the ceiling...I looked down and saw my body stretched out on the bed, not moving, while everybody—there were 15 or 20 people, the doctors, the EMTs, the nurses—was working on me. The noise and commotion grew quieter as though someone were gradually turning down the volume." After receiving a large dose of epinephrine, he woke up and was able to stabilize later that night.[2] Though he died at the age of 52 and did not walk again, he was a winner because of the decision to live life at its fullest even in his despairing and depressing condition.

For me, though I’ve been hit, smacked, smashed, knocked down continuously in this month of August, I hope that I will rise above my challenges and setbacks and be a winner even in my losses.

We Are The Champions – Queen

I've paid my dues

Time after time

I've done my sentence

But committed no crime

And bad mistakes

I've made a few

I've had my share of sand kicked in my face

But I've come through

We are the champions, my friends

And we'll keep on fighting ‘till the end

We are the champions

We are the champions

No time for losers

'Cause we are the champions of the world

I've taken my bows

And my curtain calls

You brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it

I thank you all

But it's been no bed of roses

No pleasure cruise

I consider it a challenge before the whole human race

And I ain't gonna lose

We are the champions, my friends

And we'll keep on fighting till the end

We are the champions

We are the champions

No time for losers

'Cause we are the champions of the world

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[1] http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-1326832/Michael-J-Fox-Parkinsons-saved-life-better-man.html#ixzz1UpIwuSnZ

[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christopher_Reeve