Rafting in Idiopathic Anaphylaxis River

The moment I got assigned to go white water rafting on Idiopathic Anaphylaxis River in the country called Adventures in Arduous Land, I knew that I was in for THE ride of my life. The state that this river is in is called Not-For-The-Faint-Hearted. And so I got strapped on with a helmet called Use-Your-Brains, a vest called I-Work-Like-The-Epi-Pen and a paddle called Use-Me-If-You-Want-To-Survive.

Round One

I thought they would usually start you with the basics which meant that this was the easiest level. But NO, you are thrown into the sea before they put you in kiddies pool. And I had to raft with seven other companions. And so we introduced ourselves. There was Miss Courage (whom I thought did not look like courage at all with her full-of-fear-fishball-eyes), Mr.Know-It-All, Miss Grumpy, Mrs.Cannot-Eat-Or-Smell-Any-Chemicals, Mr. Panic-Attacks, Mr. Righteous and Mrs. Angioedema. And the eighth person is yours truly. What a delightful combination our team was!

And so off we went, into that crazy river, with its twists and bends and rapids and steep drops. Many times I had thought that I was on the verge of meeting St. Peter at the Pearly Gates the moment the raft had a sudden drop. It was as though the river was alive and was bent on swallowing us all alive. But we survived somehow. Miraculously.

Round Two

So we patted each other on the back, congratulating ourselves on surviving the toughest round. And we thought that this second round would be easy-peasy. Piece of cake. Boy, were we wrong! At the first drop, I thought that Miss Fish Ball Eyes would have popped her eyeballs out and fallen into the river. Miss Grumpy was grumpy as usual, grumbling away and swallowing mouthfuls of river water. One would have thought that she would have learned her lesson from round one that is; one should keep one's mouth closed. But no! Miss Grumpy could never stop her mouth from grumbling. And Mr. Panic Attacks was well... himself. So you can imagine what a ride we had. The turns were tricky. And Mrs. Angioedema thought that her throat was going to swell shut and then, she started having problems breathing. It was actually panic attacks caused by Mr. Panic Attacks.

And then the turns became even trickier and the current grew stronger. I struggled to breathe as the ride was becoming very strenuous. Every breath I took ended up with water entering my nose. And I swallowed gulps of water. I felt like I was drowning in my own lungs. Fatigue set in. Exhaustion crept in. And then Mr. Righteous STOOD UP! Right in the middle of the rapids. Demanded that we kept our faith up. Insisted that we kept our spirits up. And demanded that we do it HIS way. And as he blabbed away, he fell off the raft and got sucked to God knows where. Lesson number one was to never ever stand up while rafting. So much for being righteous. Righteousness without common sense = a moronic idiot. So it was goodbye for him.

And then suddenly, it was calm. For it is when it's at its calmest, that you must be at your most vigilant stance. Things could just go haywire at the snap of the fingers. And it was then, that Mr.Know-It-All decided to remove his helmet and vest, and lay aside his oar to enjoy the 'serene surroundings'. Miss-Fish-Ball-Eyes told him off, but nooooooo, Mr.Know-It-All said that he knew what he was doing. I mean, he was Mr.Know-It-All right?! Unknown to us, the raft had been going in circles. We were caught in a whirlpool and we did not even know it. Talk about being savvy! Once we realized that we were caught in a whirlpool, we quickly used our oars and started paddling. Mr.Know-It-All started wearing back his helmet and vest in haste and in the process fell into the river and got sucked into the whirlpool. And there went our companion number two.

By the time we arrived back at base, we were soaking wet to the bones, exhausted beyond words and on the verge of puking out our guts and lungs. As I lay panting for breath on the ground, a pair of boots stood in front of my face. And then I heard his voice. 'What are you all?! A bunch of wussies?!! Now get off your asses before I make you all do 100 push-ups!!!' By the time we had gotten ourselves up, he had left. And we found out later that he was the new instructor. More like a boa constrictor than an instructor.

The next few weeks were never ending episodes of rafting, rafting and MORE rafting. Many of the women broke down. Many ended up in the infirmary. And I was seething with anger.

And then one day, I exploded.

It was during one of the days when we had arrived back at base during late evening, exhausted beyond words, that Mr. Slave Driver barked at us that we were to be up at 4am the next morning for ANOTHER round of rafting.

That night, with me being too tired to sleep, irritable beyond words and hearing my teammates cry themselves to sleep, I snapped. I got out of bed and promptly marched to Mr. Pompous-Arrogant-Bastard's quarters. I was an unstoppable locomotive. Steam was pouring out from my ears. Enough was enough!

-------------------------------------------------

I barged into his room and erupted like an unstoppable volcano. Lava flowed out of my mouth. Words with venom that could kill a thousand men. I screamed like a mad-woman.

'Do you even know what anaphylaxis is? Or is your vocabulary so limited that it only consists of words such as push-ups, rafting and wussies?!'

'Do you know what it is like to have an anaphylaxis?! DAMN IT! I was never given an option to whether I wanted to live on this land and to raft in this river! I was blindfolded, thrown into this place, and left to survive on my own devices!'

'Do you even know what it is like to have Death staring at you in your eyes?! Seriously, what is your *#@!ing problem?!! Did your wife ditch you that you are such a pain-in-the-ass? What the bloody hell is wrong with you? You are such an ass****!!!'

I could feel my blood pressure sky rocket through the roofs of the skies. And as I was panting from my tirade, I suddenly realized that the room was in darkness. It was so dark that I could barely hear myself breathe. And then I panicked. He could just overcome me and rape me!

As if hearing my thoughts, his voice came from the farthest corner of the room and said, 'You allow yourself to be raped.'

WHAT??!!! I was LIVID! If I was a volcano just now, I was now an armed grenade. I could kill this man with my bare hands!

He then continued, 'You allow yourself to be violated when you allow yourself to wallow in defeat. You allow yourself to be raped when you do not fight back. You allow yourself to be raped when you say you cannot, it's impossible and then give up. YOU allow yourself to be raped when you give up your dreams. And you allow yourself to be violated when you do not thrive.'

I wanted to see this mad man spewing crap before I beat the crap out of him. And when I flicked on the lighter, I had the shock of the night! There he was lying in his bed, with a drip in his hand and a used Epi-Pen lying on his bedside table. I could not close my agape mouth. I was too shocked. He looked so weak and frail. I sat on the floor with a loud thud.

'I've had this since I was 16. I am now 54. How would I not know what you all are going through? I lived with it before you were even conceived.'

'The problem with you bunch of people is that even though you go through the motion of rafting and going on in life, you are NOT on the insides. Your insides are dead. You allow this so-called 'disease' to rob you of your life. You smile without smiling. You laugh without laughing. You breathe without breathing. And you live without being alive. How can you conquer the river when you refuse to conquere yourselves?'

And then I suddenly saw what meant. We were all hoboes. We were all emotionally bankrupt. Not because we could not afford to live a lavish life of happiness and contentment. But because we chose to live a life of destitute, desolate and wallow in self-pity. And then we proudly shout from rooftops that we had made it! We are alive but we are in fact like he had said, 'Living without living.'

I left without a word. I could not speak. I was broken. And then I slept. For weeks. And then it became months. The realization hit too close to home. You mean to say I rafted all these while without rafting? I was deader than dead? I did contemplate on leaving. But that would mean that I had given up. On myself. On life. Which would be equivalent to hanging myself.

And so I finally got up and out of bed. And I rafted. And this time I really rafted. I truly rafted while rafting. Of course the exhaustion was still there. I still had 101 questions that still had big, unresolved question marks. I still swallowed big gulps of river water. I still craved for stability which this river could never and would never give me. This river would forever be unpredictable. Nothing was constant. Nothing was the same. But this time, I was constant. In my life. In rafting. In living.

You should have seen Mr. Boa Constrictor's face when we rafted in one of the roughest waters. We did not come out unscathed. We did not come out without exhaustion. We did not come out without suffering beatings to our fighting spirits. We did not come out without wanting to puke out our guts and lungs from sheer fatigue. But we were victors. Why? Because we truly rafted while rafting in one of the world's toughest river, the Idiopathic Anaphylaxis River. And that wide smile on his face said it all.

The Battle of Conquering Ourselves

Buddha once said that it is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, heaven or hell.

What does conquer mean? Again conquer is a verb. It could mean:

1. To acquire by force of arms; to win in war.

2. To overcome by force or to subdue.

3. To gain, to win or obtain by personal effort.

4. To gain a victory over, surmount, master, overcome.

In our situation, people with Idiopathic Anaphylaxis, life as we all know is a daily battle. We can never forecast what will set us off. For me it is salicylates and chemicals. There are all sorts of chemicals! Even our body produces chemicals!!! So how do I define what sets me off and what does not? One day I do not react to the smell of cabbage being cooked (and that is organic cabbage, mind you) and the next round, I am feeling sick and nauseated like a pregnant woman pumped up with Duphaston (hormones) and a migraine from hell which makes me feel like my head is going to erupt like Mount St. Helen. And that is only cabbage! And I am supposed to conquer myself??!! I can't even conquer the pain and my bowels!

I think conquering can be equated to the daily trudge up the steep Idiopathic Anaphylaxis mountain. You claw your way up even though you know your hands are at the risk of frostbite. Reaching the peak is your ultimate goal and bleeding and broken fingers is not going to stop you from your arduous journey.

I think conquering can be equated to getting on a horse for the first time and learning to ride with the flow even though you know that your behind is going to be so sore the next day to the point that you can hardly walk. Reaching your destination is the ultimate goal in your life.

I think conquering can be equated to fighting IA and moving on attack after attack. It would mean that I have surmounted my struggles.

I think conquering can be equated to taking breaks or having rest stops to refuel, recharge and regain my energy and fighting spirit.

I think conquering can be equated to disallowing fear to rule my life and dictate my motives and actions.

I think conquering can be equated to living my life to the best that I can even with my setbacks and even to the point of having the quality of life.

And I think conquering can be equated to living my life in a happy, peaceful, grateful and serene state as much as possible to the end of my days.

Hence, by conquering oneself,  I, you and we would have won a thousand battles.



35 months ago was the day I met Death.

Move On

You fall to the ground
With a loud crashing sound
Pick yourself up and
Move on

You feel so weary
Life is getting to be so dreary
You get yourself up and
Move on

The pirates came
They plundered and looted and took your game
You tighten your belt and start anew
Move on

The blizzard came
And buried you, almost extinguishing your flame
It's ok, a small light is fine
Just stay alive

Life is never easy
The trick is to be pliant
As much as you can, keep the ship steady
And trudge on in the land of the Giants

Say goodbye to your sorrows
Though they may drop by again tomorrow
Life is never without a fight
With all of your might
Move on.

Rest

For the first time in a very, very long time, it dawned on me that I had forgotten about how to rest. I am always on the move. I have this 'belief' ingrained in my brain that I could drop dead anytime or have another anaphylaxis episode or even a near-anaphylaxis episode. Therefore whatever that can be done today ought to be done today. Not tomorrow. Life is short!

In the process, I have become a never-ending-chugging-train. Always on the move and always on the go. I think I have become the rabbit in the Duracell advert. Non-stop, non-stop and non-stop. Hence, instead of 'thriving', it became striving. I became antsy whenever I sat down and did nothing! 101 things will flood my mind on what needs to be done. I had become the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland constantly running in a harried and hurried manner.

And so I needed a wake-up call.

On Sunday evening, I was in the garden harvesting siu pak choys for our dinner when the Neighbour at the South-West direction started to cook 'vinegar pig's trotter'! You see, vinegar is my number one enemy. About 2 years back, the three of us went to a Chinese restaurant to eat. I of course brought my own food. But I ordered some plain, white rice from them. Before I could even reach home, I was already having a terrible reaction. It was a near-anaphylaxis attack which resulted in a tingling sensation in my fingers and feet and numbness in all my joints for a few weeks. It was months later that I discovered that chinese restaurants add vinegar to the rice to make it fluffy and tasty! Talk about being ignorant. I had thought white rice was safe!

Back to Sunday's incident. The smell was so strong and pungent that the only mask that could save me was the gas mask that the soldiers use in chemical warfares. It was just too strong. It smelt as though the cook had used 10 liters of black vinegar. And it wafted into the house. Of course I quickly finished my harvesting of vegetables and ran into the house as fast as possible. But the smell was already seared in my brain. And it is still in my brain today! I started to feel 'sick' after an hour of being exposed to the vinegar. The insides of my ears felt swollen. I prayed so hard that it would not end up in an anaphylaxis attack. It did not and I went to bed four hours after the exposure feeling grateful that nothing disastrous had happened.

Monday 5.50am

I woke up with my mouth filled with ulcers/blisters. On my tongue, in my mouth and at the back of my throat. They came out overnight. It hurt like hell. I could not swallow. I had thought that my throat was closing up. I quickly checked my BP. It was normal. I checked my throat. It looked normal. Other than the pain in my mouth, I was fine. I could breathe. No sensitivity-induced-migraine-from-hell. I tried to continue on with my daily routines but I was constantly distracted by the excruciating pain. Eating became a nightmare. So was swallowing saliva. And even drinking. And so was talking.

But I persevered on.

Tuesday

I went to the market to buy some fresh fish as the freezer was devoid of them. By the time I got back from the market, the insides of my ears swelled till they felt like they were stuffed with golf balls. And I could still 'smell' the vinegar smell. And the ulcers were killing me.

But I persevered on.

Wednesday

I totally crashed. The little young man fell sick too. And he had to stay back home. I couldn't wake up. I couldn't function. I moved so slow like a tortoise. The pain had taken a toll on my body. My blood pressure plunged after lunch. I was so dizzy that I fell into a drowning sleep that lasted for four hours. It felt as though I had a mini hurricane in my head. My brother was at home, so I wasn't too worried if an anaphylaxis were to happen. And the little one played by himself entertaining himself with his building and creating games for four hours while I totally zonked out. But he came and woke me up one time and asked me, 'Mommie, you are not going to die, are you? Should you go to the hospital?' I think I mumbled something like I needed to sleep and I would be fine. And no I wasn't going to die. And then I fell into the drowning sleep again. I felt better during the night but my BP was on the low side which was 93/78.

In a way, Joel falling sick is a blessing. I dare not imagine what would have happened if the drowning sleep had struck me while I was behind the wheel. Things do happen for a reason. And though sometimes we do not understand why they happen, it is best to flow along with it.

Thursday

I am a wreck. Pain is my shadow and my constant companion. I cannot sleep. I cannot eat. I am even drooling as I can't close my mouth because of the ulcers. I should be wearing a bib!!! My nerves are frazzled. My ears feel as though they have been boxed at.  I'm bloody irritated and tired and weary from fighting the pain. Chewing food = chewing nails. My teeth hurt. My gums hurt. I want PAINKILLERS! God, the things I would do just to be able to take paracetamol. My mood is like a roaring T-Rex.

I realised that I am like a warrior who has been constantly on the battleground for almost 3 years now. Weariness, exhaustion and fatigue crept up on me, the seemingly 'hardy and tireless non-stop machine'. Even when I sleep, my mind is on alert in case  'anaphylaxis the enemy' creeps upon me and bludgeons me to death.

Thus, I am going to take a step back and just learn to be still. While I am in a storm, I will learn to be calm. While my soul is exhausted, I will learn to rest. Though I am feeling weary, I will allow myself to be refreshed. And when I am restless, I will learn to be still.

Therefore, I will just do it. By resting, I will thrive, in a different way and life would definitely be more 'perfect'!!

 Let's see how SOON I can practice what I preach! (nyuk nyuk nyuk!)

Thrive

I was going through a host of websites looking for useful information pertaining to my condition when I stumbled upon a woman's website. She is a survivor of sexual child abuse. She and her twin sister were raped, sodomised and forced to perform oral sex by their father almost nightly for eight years. And many times they were subjected to sadistic torture. She started her blog to reach out to survivors like herself and to obtain healing by speaking out. The thing that really caught my attention was what she wrote. She asked whether, '... is it enough to merely want to survive? Or would you rather live your life by being a survivor who wants to thrive?'

A thriver. That made me think really long and hard. I then asked myself, 'Am I not surviving well?' I did not go through sexual abuse as a child. But I did go through a very, very tough period in my life which required me to fight daily in order to survive. I am still fighting daily for my life. And I am surviving. So that makes me a survivor. And I can proudly pat myself on my back that I survived and made it out alive. So what am I lacking then? I fought. I survived. I am alive. But am I thriving?

The word 'thrive' is a verb. Which means it is an action. It is something which you have to do.  The definition of 'thrive' is to prosper, to do well, to flourish, to grow, to develope, to advance, to succeed, to boom, to bloom, to grow rich, to grow strong and healthy. Which brings me to my point: are we people with Idiopathic Anaphylaxis thriving in our lives? Are we prospering where our souls are concerned? Are we doing well mentally? Are we flourishing in our attitudes toward life? Are we growing stronger in our attitude to fight? Are we advancing in this battle with Idiopathic Anaphylaxis? If you are not thriving, then you are merely surviving.

The thing with Idiopathic Anaphylaxis is that we never know when an attack will occur or how bad an attack can get. And in the midst of trying to find our footing in life all over again, we need to move forward and live a life which is full of LIFE! What is wrong with merely surviving? That would mean you are undermining your life from growing in leaps and bounds. By being a thriver, your soul would heal and be strengthened and that could attribute to your healing physically. Yes, we might not be able to travel anywhere to our whims and fancy (or even at all), we might not be able to eat whatever we want, we might not be able to spray ourselves with Elizabeth Arden or Christian Dior's Poison or even walk down the detergent aisle without holding our breath but to run past as quickly as possible with two fingers stuck into our nostrils. But by thriving, we will have the quality of life which all mankind so desperately need. And that is to live our lives even with our setbacks with a happy, contented and peaceful heart. So my million dollar question to you would be this: Are you a survivor or a thriver?




35 months ago was theday I met Death.

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 Three Henchmen

They were a trio. They were the meanest trio that ever existed. Wherever they went, Fear, Pain and Despair were inseparable. . Fear of course was the leader. It would go around scouring for potential victims. And boy, did they have plenty of victims.  


Fear made sure it gripped the heart of the woman who was abused as a child and who is currently living in the women's shelter.  Fear made sure she grew up fearing that no one would love her and thus she grabbed the first available guy that came along though he showed signs of being abusive. Fear made her fearful of walking out of that relationship even though her body, soul and mind were as battered as the battle grounds of Armageddon. 


Fear then proceeded to scour the playground for the most timid child. It made sure the fear that the bully instilled in him stayed. Fear made sure he stayed mum about it until the day he died. Fear also made sure the child was bound by that fear so that he remained bullied even in his adult years. 


Fear then moved on to the housing area of the upper class. It went into the house which was the poshest of the poshest, and floated into that particular room. There sat a woman so plastic that even the plastic recycling company would reject her. Fearing that her husband would replace her for a SYT (Sweet Young Thing), she went under the knife multiple times to make herself 'perfect'. The fear of being rejected and unloved overode the fear of going under the knife so many times, risking her life. And yet after achieving 'perfection', fear still gripped her heart. The same old fear of her husband not loving her, not wanting her and rejecting her. 


Fear then roamed the streets and saw a driver suffocating with fear. Fear then pounded his brain with thoughts of fear of accidents and of loosing control of the vehicle. The driver was seized with a panic attack, stopped abruptly and stumbled out of the car and vomitted on the street. 'Job done!' laughed Fear with glee. 


Fear then went to the office of the woman who feared to be alone. Though she was constantly surrounded by people, she feared that she would end up alone in life. And because of that fear, she made a lot of unhappy compromises in her life. Though she was not alone, she was lonely. 


Fear proceeded to the restaurant where an elderly lady was dining with her husband. Fear ruled her life. She was afraid of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, afraid of doing the wrong things, afraid of the unknown and even of the known. And up to the age that she was now at, the grip that Fear had on her did not lessen. Instead the talons of Fear were embedded in her soul. Sad to say, Fear dictated her life. 

Once Fear was done, Pain would then move in onto the people whom Fear had full control. Pain made sure that their hearts ached, their souls ached, their minds gripped with blinding pain and then wrecked their bodies with pain so bad that they became reliant on drugs. And once Pain did its job, Despair came in. Despair made sure that all that have been controlled by Fear and Pain felt lost and a crushing sense of hopelessness. And once these three were done, the rest of the cohorts would move in. Depression, Violence, Worthlessness, Suicide, Destruction and many, many more. 


Fear went to visit an old pal whom it tormented when she was a child. Fear had its talons in her heart, mind and soul for years. And for years, Fear ruled and reigned in her life. But cursed be the day where she was set free because of Sickness. Sickness should never have struck her. If she did not have Sickness, she would forever be in Fear's possession. Her heart, mind and soul would belong to Fear. 'It is all ITS fault. It should have never touched her!' cursed Fear. And as the seconds ticked by, Fear became sick. Because Boldness, Courage and Life was in her heart. And being in the presence of those Three suffocated Fear. Fear was fearful of those Three!! The peace that surrounded her was suffocating Fear. And the serenity in her heart was as loud as the screeching emergency brakes of a runaway train. Fear scampered away from the place and found that it could slowly breathe again. 


As Fear was recovering from its fears, it was suddenly attacked, thrown into the air and shoved into the bowels of Hades. 'Bloody hell! What the hell was that for?!!' screeched Fear. 'You were supposed to instill FEAR into her! Not run away like a wuss!!!!!' bellowed a cold and menacingly evil voice. Voices snickered all around. The air was oppressive and crippling. It reeked with the smell of rotting corpses. The surroundings were filled with the screams of the damned. The coldness that permeated the air could freeze all the boiling lava in the universe. And it was this coldness that sought to take as many lives as possible even before life could take form. And this coldness was displeased with Fear. Dragging Fear up by its neck, the Voice hissed and said, 'Do your thing by the end of this week, or I will deal with you myself.' Fear cackled and retorted, 'You can't even touch her and you expect ME to do your dirty job?!'  The Voice screamed and flung Fear into the farthest corner of Hades. It then roared, 'It is not finished!!!!!!!!' All the other creatures shrunk in fear from the outburst. When the Voice was done, it turned around and there it was in its coldest and menacing splendour... Death. 


'O death, I will be thy plagues;


O grave, I will be thy destruction.'


 - Hosea 13:14

The Finish Line

I had a vision the other night

That I was running in a race with all my might

And I had to keep on going with only one thing on my mind

That was to make it to the finish line

The crowd was cheering us on

Their roar was deafening

Our spirits were greatly motivated

And we kept on running

The heavens suddenly grew dark and foreboding

They thundered and bellowed

A horrible threatening sounding

And most of the runners were suddenly mellowed

I looked to the left

I looked to the right

Gone were the runners

They did not even put up a fight

And then you appeared to me in a great, blinding light

And tried to instill in me, a terrible, great fear

But I put up a courageous fight

And said never in a million years

The heavens then opened up

And poured down so much rain

That it could fill up a lagoon

And the torrents almost swept me into the drain

And then I realized that I was all alone

And I was oh so cold to the bone

And I started to feel the strain

As I was being lambasted by the pounding rain

I struggled to breathe

And tried to stop my chattering teeth

I couldn’t even muster a cackle

It was as if I was weighed down by a thousand shackles

It suddenly dawned upon me

That I was running on fifth gear

It was as easy as do-re-mi

All I needed was to change to first gear

The rain came down even harder

But I wasn’t struggling anymore

I was renewed with a sudden burst of ardour

And I let out a mighty loud roar

There was a sudden change in the scene

The surrounding was all of a sudden very serene

I was now swimming in the great big sea

On my way to fulfill my destiny

I swam faster with renewed vigor

As I approached nearer, the island grew bigger

The young, eternal, wise sage sat on the rock

Waiting for me, never did he mock

When I finally did reach my finish line

He greeted me with a smile so divine

He told me to take a seat

And in anticipation, my heart skipped a beat

When he finally did open his mouth to speak

No words came out, no not even one

What came out made my knees so weak

And my emotions and mind became extremely undone

His vocal chords produced sounds that were unheard of

Harmonies that were so ancient,  way even before the Beginnings

Even time stood still to listen and so did the Heavens above

And my mind just couldn’t stop spinning

The past, present and future became one

What he did could never be outdone

The air, the land and sea came together

And they fused together as one resounding wonder

Time began moving forward again

When he was done with his mighty act

All creatures were in reverence and awe

For never will we see this again

He got up and walked away

Not before saying, ‘You would not have seen had you not run.’

  

35 months ago was
 The Day I Met Death

The Number Song

One, two, three, four, five
You need to be kicking and alive
All you need to do is to just dive
And once you're done, you will have your life

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten
You don't ever need to pretend
To be the great Superman
To fight the boogeyman

Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen
In three years, many things I've seen
And I know fear is like gangrene
Once it infects you, your life will be far from serene

Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen
Wallowing in defeat without fighting is obscene
You need to be a lean, mean fighting machine
Then you will be known as Victorious, The Queen

Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty
If you want freedom badly
You will fight for it daily
For not doing so is folly

Sixty, seventy, eighty, ninety
In life we need esprit
Though at times, life can be crappy
It too can be chirpy

One hundred is the targeted goal
Just make sure you do not fall into a manhole
Or get caught in a sinkhole
For there will be occasional hellholes
Just don't loose control
Or even your soul
And you would have scored your first goal
And realize that you have been made whole

2012 - A Year of Reinvention

Change. How I hated that word. How I struggled with the implementation of that word. How I tried to avoid being in situations of change. I had to learn it the hard way, where change is concerned.

2012 is finally here. And no, the world did not come to an end. But something did come to an end. And it was the year of 2011. And for me, 2011 was a  year of unending struggles, pain, severe depression (till I had actually broken down, burst into tears and bawled at my physician's room) and unending reactions to anything and everything.

It was during these six weeks of the year-end school holidays that I worked towards change even more. Mind you, I have already 'changed' where my lifestyle, my beliefs, and my attitudes are concerned. But changing alone wasn't enough. I had to reinvent myself.

How does one with Idiopathic Anaphylaxis reinvents oneself? By being more flexible, more graceful towards change and more open to 'bumpy rides'. And being a mother with IA to a six-year old boy, I have had to reinvent and transform (not only my life), but our lives. And that is not an easy task. And certainly not fair for my family. But it is necessary for my survival and it gives us the quality of life.

Tomorrow will be the day where we will be officially joining the mad, rat race. And not only will the little young man be facing school life in a totally new environment, his mommie too will be entering into uncharted territory. Driving at such early hours and to such a far distance is definitely not my cup of tea. And being a hermit for 33 months has made me very rusty where social skills are concerned. And being so sensitive to smells will put me in many 'unpleasant' situations. But I will make sure that I will take my medication every day.  And I carry tons of masks everywhere I go. I will learn to take it easy. AND sleep as much as I can.

We have been preparing ourselves for these six weeks. I made sure I ate a balanced meal EVERYDAY even though I did not feel like eating AND cooking at many times. I have made sure that my salicylate levels are kept at an absolute minimum. I made sure that my emotional state of health is healthy as possible. And for this past one week I have been baking whatever food that I will be needing for this week. This being Joel's first week of school will see me camping at his school for 7 1/2 hours a day. I will have to make sure that Joel is confident and not traumatized at being so far away from me for such a long period of time. I will have to reassure him that I will be fine and no, I will not drop dead with him not being at my side. I have done my part. I have done my best. And so the rest, is in God's hands.

As I am writing this, I do feel some trepidation. I would be lying if I said I was not anxious and afraid. But in reinventing my life, our lives, I have learnt that we cannot live in fear. The moment fear controls our minds, we have already lost the battle. Of course there will always be the thought at the back of my mind to whether I could have another anaphylaxis attack. But I refuse to let IA control my life to the point where I have to bow down to it and live with a crippled soul. I refuse to live a life full of fear having overcome Death. I refuse to be afraid in crossing this wide chasm where it feels as though I am walking on water. I refuse to shrink back into my hermit-shell and hide in fear. And by refusing to give in to fear, I have reinvented my life. And that will be my journey, our journey for 2012.

33 months ago was
The Day I Met Death

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.

-----------------------------------

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’!