Ayah once yelled at our Indonesian helper for ‘spoiling’ his fresh-from-market lamb chops. He told her earlier that he was going to prepare the lamb chop – but by the time he went to the kitchen the girl had already cut the lamb chop into small pieces, which made him really upset. The poor girl thought that she was making things easier for my father by cutting the meat beforehand, innocently oblivious to the fact that lamb chops are supposed to be as they were.
Mak quickly consoled Ayah, “Well, she’d already cut it, you can’t do much about it now. But I’m sure she’s learned her lesson, dear. After all, she thought she was just being helpful. She did not even know she was doing something wrong because she was totally ignorant about lamb chops and what they are supposed to look like”
It’s true isn’t it – sometimes we did something wrong and did not even realised it due to our ignorance?
For example, yesterday I unintentionally caused a friend some distress over an e-mail sent to higher-level officers. Apparently, there was some flare-up at her office involving e-mail sent to a higher-level officer which have caused her colleague some trouble. Working in another office, I had no idea of what was happening at her workplace, so when I forwarded her e-mail to a higher level officer, it was done in good faith. After all, the officer also knows my friend and so I thought it wasn’t a big deal.
So I was taken aback when I received an e-mail by my friend scolding me rather harshly for what I did, which was also c.c. to a few other mutual friends. I took a deep breath before I replied that e-mail, apologizing and at the same time explaining why I did so.
When she replied, in a softer tone – telling us how disturbed her friend was, and how she cried on my friend’s shoulder due to the mix-up caused by the e-mail sent to the higher-level officer, and all - only then understanding dawned on me…
I did something wrong, for which I am really sorry. But believe me, I did not realised it due to my ignorance of what took place in her office. If I had known, I wouldn’t have done such thing. And dear R, trust me, I've learned my lesson. If it's any consolation, you may take this as a public apology.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Maybe it's in our nature
Unlike happy news which have a mysterious way of travelling fast, not-so-good news seldom travel far or fast. Which in a way, limit the dose of support and encouragement the people in pain could and should get.
Three of my friends are giving birth to their respective third child this year. Juz is counting her days now, while Wina is due a bit later and Yam (yes, my goddaughter, Khadijah Najwa is getting another sibling) even later. Most of our friends have heard about the anticipated arrival of additional bundles of joys.
Three of my friends just went through some rough times. One girl has to let go of her new fetus after the doctor confirmed that her fetus was not growing and no heartbeat was detected. Another friend’s wife went through a similar experience – she had to let go of her less-than-two-months-old fetus due to some complications. As for the other girl, she is still healing her inner wounds after a broken engagement recently.
They say that friends could help double our happiness and divide our sorrow when we share them. But I supposed, it’s always easier to let others know of happy news – weddings, births, promotions, getting a new and better car – than to share one’s gloomy news. Maybe it’s in our nature that we don’t like to trouble others with our own troubles. Maybe it’s in our nature that we don’t want others to worry about us too much. Maybe.
But often we forget that sometimes the best way to soften one's troubles is to solace those of others. Since everybody has their own problems, sometimes in comforting others, we comfort ourselves too. Besides, isn’t kindness an inner desire that makes us want to do good things even if we do not get anything in return? Maybe that is in our nature too – but often we tend to forget about it.
After all – it is in our nature to be forgetful…
#####
I learned of an old acquaintance’s death yesterday. He was 29 and was suffering from cancer. Allahyarham Ahmad Najmi Haron had been safely buried in Newcastle, England.
I heard that he discovered of his illness some time in mid 1999. All these years, I had never known about it at all, perhaps partly because we are from different batches. Thanks to some project in which we were both involved, I remember Najmi as a strong-willed person, a little on the serious side and very dedicated in whatever he was doing. I believe he will be remembered fondly and will be sorely missed by family, friends and even acquaintances – Al-Fatihah…
Three of my friends are giving birth to their respective third child this year. Juz is counting her days now, while Wina is due a bit later and Yam (yes, my goddaughter, Khadijah Najwa is getting another sibling) even later. Most of our friends have heard about the anticipated arrival of additional bundles of joys.
Three of my friends just went through some rough times. One girl has to let go of her new fetus after the doctor confirmed that her fetus was not growing and no heartbeat was detected. Another friend’s wife went through a similar experience – she had to let go of her less-than-two-months-old fetus due to some complications. As for the other girl, she is still healing her inner wounds after a broken engagement recently.
They say that friends could help double our happiness and divide our sorrow when we share them. But I supposed, it’s always easier to let others know of happy news – weddings, births, promotions, getting a new and better car – than to share one’s gloomy news. Maybe it’s in our nature that we don’t like to trouble others with our own troubles. Maybe it’s in our nature that we don’t want others to worry about us too much. Maybe.
But often we forget that sometimes the best way to soften one's troubles is to solace those of others. Since everybody has their own problems, sometimes in comforting others, we comfort ourselves too. Besides, isn’t kindness an inner desire that makes us want to do good things even if we do not get anything in return? Maybe that is in our nature too – but often we tend to forget about it.
After all – it is in our nature to be forgetful…
#####
I learned of an old acquaintance’s death yesterday. He was 29 and was suffering from cancer. Allahyarham Ahmad Najmi Haron had been safely buried in Newcastle, England.
I heard that he discovered of his illness some time in mid 1999. All these years, I had never known about it at all, perhaps partly because we are from different batches. Thanks to some project in which we were both involved, I remember Najmi as a strong-willed person, a little on the serious side and very dedicated in whatever he was doing. I believe he will be remembered fondly and will be sorely missed by family, friends and even acquaintances – Al-Fatihah…
Monday, March 21, 2005
How to do well at the PTD Assessment Centre
It’s that time of the year again – many have just discovered that they passed the PTD entry exam and had been informed that they would be asked to proceed for a 3-days Assessment program at various locations.
Friends and strangers have asked me to provide some tips on how to do well during the Assessment. Well, I don’t know much, but I guess my answer would be similar to other fellow PTDs…
So here’s some general guidelines:
- be yourself;
- be original;
- don’t domineer;
- don’t over do it;
- make new friends; and
- enjoy the experience.
There'll be lots of team-building sessions as well as public speaking sessions -in English and Bahasa. Preparing ahead of time might help. Be ready with good reference. And if you think a lot of people will talk about tsunami or Bukit Cherakah or haram sausage made from pig intestines - talk about something else. Be creative, be different - it doesn't even matter if you talk about the teh tarik culture or napping at work (which I did during the Assessment in 2000 - so you might want to talk about something else...) so long as you prove that you have the confidence to stand up in front of everybody to state your case as clearly and precisely as possible.
Among others, the observers will be looking out for leadership skills, ability to work well in a team, good manners and good personality. I am not saying that all PTDs have great personalities – but it helps. Smile and make friends - even with the pakcik and makcik at Dewan Selera.
And yes – watching, observing and learning from other peoples’ mistakes on The Apprentice might help too.
Friends and strangers have asked me to provide some tips on how to do well during the Assessment. Well, I don’t know much, but I guess my answer would be similar to other fellow PTDs…
So here’s some general guidelines:
- be yourself;
- be original;
- don’t domineer;
- don’t over do it;
- make new friends; and
- enjoy the experience.
There'll be lots of team-building sessions as well as public speaking sessions -in English and Bahasa. Preparing ahead of time might help. Be ready with good reference. And if you think a lot of people will talk about tsunami or Bukit Cherakah or haram sausage made from pig intestines - talk about something else. Be creative, be different - it doesn't even matter if you talk about the teh tarik culture or napping at work (which I did during the Assessment in 2000 - so you might want to talk about something else...) so long as you prove that you have the confidence to stand up in front of everybody to state your case as clearly and precisely as possible.
Among others, the observers will be looking out for leadership skills, ability to work well in a team, good manners and good personality. I am not saying that all PTDs have great personalities – but it helps. Smile and make friends - even with the pakcik and makcik at Dewan Selera.
And yes – watching, observing and learning from other peoples’ mistakes on The Apprentice might help too.
Friday, March 11, 2005
Don't worry...
Sometimes, things we were so worried about never happen anyway.
Take last week for an instance, when I was notified that I had been among the few selected to be recipient of Japanese Government Monbukagakusho a.k.a. Mambusho scholarship to pursue my Masters degree in Waseda University. I had been scheduled to leave in early April 2005.
If things had been different – I would be jumping with joy. Out of 8000 applicants, less than 30 finally got the scholarship so I must admit that it came as quite a delightful surprise to know that I made it. The fact that I actually got a placement in Waseda University (yes, that’s where Royal Prof. Ungku Aziz went to study) was a wonderful surprise too – since none of my previous e-mail seeking help with getting a Letter of Acceptance from them were replied. I thought that I might stood a better chance to go to Kobe University, as the then possible-future-Supervisor responded positively to my queries. Besides, with my 2nd Lower degree, I wasn’t putting high hopes on getting a place in Waseda although I put it as my first preference in my application form. If there is such a thing as Ivy League among Japanese universities, Waseda would definitely be part of it.
But circumstances have changed. When I applied for the scholarship more than a year ago I was single and had no immediate plan of getting married. But wedding bells came my way and now I am in the family way. I am expected to deliver my baby sometimes in September 2005. I am excited to have this baby and I am equally excited and fascinated at the idea of going to Japan to experience new frontiers of education and life itself.
However, understandably, I am a little hesitant to leave for Tokyo right now due to fact that I’ve gone through some rough times since becoming pregnant. Since this is my first pregnancy, my doctor has advised me not to travel for long hours until after delivery to avoid undue complications.
Besides, I am also worried about the high cost in medical expenses in Japan considering the fact that the scholarship does not cover maternity and related expenses. Should I decide to take a risk and leave for Japan in April 2005 and deliver my baby in Japan, where do I fork out the amount needed to cover the expenses – I’ve spent most of my savings for my wedding last year. On the other hand, if I decide to give birth in Malaysia, I have to return to the country some time in June-July 2005, of which I am not too sure whether I would be allowed to travel as by then I would be about seven months pregnant and many flights refuse to allow such ladies onboard. In any case, it will affect both my financial situation and my studies.
As for my husband, when he first heard the news on the phone, his first response was “What did Ayah say about this?” Nope, he did not sound ecstatic at all. The “Congratulations” that I received from him sounded rather flat. The news came at the wrong time - he had been increasingly worried after learning that his coursemate's wife who was also expecting and had gone through a bad case of nausea and vomit had just had a miscarriage. And he'd been told that it's necessary for people with my condition to avoid long hour journey, especially on a flight.
We made sort of a deal before our wedding. I told him about my application for Mambusho scholarship and how I’d been looking forward to pursuing my Masters, to have a chance of enriching my experience in Japan as well as to fulfil my dream to be able to converse well in Nihon-go. He told me about his application for KPLI (a course to train government school teachers) and how his family hoped he would accept it if he get to go. So, we both agree to let each other go, should we be successful in our application, to fulfil our own dreams and oblige our respective family’s wishes.
In fact, he even reassured Ayah that he had no problem of letting me go when the time arrive, with or without him going along. So, that explained why he first asked about Ayah’s opinion when I told him the news. I know, secretly he was hoping that Ayah might not let me go and if that is the case, he could say that he agrees with Ayah’s opinion. But Ayah said – “You’d better go Kak. Do well in your studies and we would figure out something for the maternity expenses.”
Hubby asked if there’s any possibility of postponing the departure until after delivery. I told him that since I need to learn the Japanese Language and pass certain level of the Japanese Language Proficiency Test, I have to go in April. But I checked with the Japanese Embassy anyway.
After listening to my dilemma, the officer in charge at the Embassy kindly told me that yes, it might be possible to defer the commencement date of my study to October. “But wouldn’t it be better if you go next year? Why don’t you re-apply?,” the officer advised. She was worried because I’m due to deliver in September, and normally they only allow student to go two months after delivery. But, no thank you – I refuse to go through all the procedures all over again. Besides, there’s no guarantee that I will get the scholarship if I re-apply. So, I was asked to write a letter, in addition to my first letter of appeal to defer the commencement date of my study, to state that I’m willing to take all responsibilities with regard to my post-natal condition as well as willing to oblige should I be asked to leave in early October.
I’m still waiting to get a formal reply from the Japanese Embassy – but things seemed almost resolved now. I’m greedy that way – I want both the baby and the scholarship. So, all things considered, perhaps going in October is probably the best option I have right now – after my delivery insya Allah. I know I will probably still be weak in October. And I might not be able to breastfeed my baby for long. And I will miss both baby and hubby terribly much until baby is old enough (3 months) to travel to Japan. But I’ll worry about that when the time comes…
After all, sometimes, things we worry about never happen anyway.
Take last week for an instance, when I was notified that I had been among the few selected to be recipient of Japanese Government Monbukagakusho a.k.a. Mambusho scholarship to pursue my Masters degree in Waseda University. I had been scheduled to leave in early April 2005.
If things had been different – I would be jumping with joy. Out of 8000 applicants, less than 30 finally got the scholarship so I must admit that it came as quite a delightful surprise to know that I made it. The fact that I actually got a placement in Waseda University (yes, that’s where Royal Prof. Ungku Aziz went to study) was a wonderful surprise too – since none of my previous e-mail seeking help with getting a Letter of Acceptance from them were replied. I thought that I might stood a better chance to go to Kobe University, as the then possible-future-Supervisor responded positively to my queries. Besides, with my 2nd Lower degree, I wasn’t putting high hopes on getting a place in Waseda although I put it as my first preference in my application form. If there is such a thing as Ivy League among Japanese universities, Waseda would definitely be part of it.
But circumstances have changed. When I applied for the scholarship more than a year ago I was single and had no immediate plan of getting married. But wedding bells came my way and now I am in the family way. I am expected to deliver my baby sometimes in September 2005. I am excited to have this baby and I am equally excited and fascinated at the idea of going to Japan to experience new frontiers of education and life itself.
However, understandably, I am a little hesitant to leave for Tokyo right now due to fact that I’ve gone through some rough times since becoming pregnant. Since this is my first pregnancy, my doctor has advised me not to travel for long hours until after delivery to avoid undue complications.
Besides, I am also worried about the high cost in medical expenses in Japan considering the fact that the scholarship does not cover maternity and related expenses. Should I decide to take a risk and leave for Japan in April 2005 and deliver my baby in Japan, where do I fork out the amount needed to cover the expenses – I’ve spent most of my savings for my wedding last year. On the other hand, if I decide to give birth in Malaysia, I have to return to the country some time in June-July 2005, of which I am not too sure whether I would be allowed to travel as by then I would be about seven months pregnant and many flights refuse to allow such ladies onboard. In any case, it will affect both my financial situation and my studies.
As for my husband, when he first heard the news on the phone, his first response was “What did Ayah say about this?” Nope, he did not sound ecstatic at all. The “Congratulations” that I received from him sounded rather flat. The news came at the wrong time - he had been increasingly worried after learning that his coursemate's wife who was also expecting and had gone through a bad case of nausea and vomit had just had a miscarriage. And he'd been told that it's necessary for people with my condition to avoid long hour journey, especially on a flight.
We made sort of a deal before our wedding. I told him about my application for Mambusho scholarship and how I’d been looking forward to pursuing my Masters, to have a chance of enriching my experience in Japan as well as to fulfil my dream to be able to converse well in Nihon-go. He told me about his application for KPLI (a course to train government school teachers) and how his family hoped he would accept it if he get to go. So, we both agree to let each other go, should we be successful in our application, to fulfil our own dreams and oblige our respective family’s wishes.
In fact, he even reassured Ayah that he had no problem of letting me go when the time arrive, with or without him going along. So, that explained why he first asked about Ayah’s opinion when I told him the news. I know, secretly he was hoping that Ayah might not let me go and if that is the case, he could say that he agrees with Ayah’s opinion. But Ayah said – “You’d better go Kak. Do well in your studies and we would figure out something for the maternity expenses.”
Hubby asked if there’s any possibility of postponing the departure until after delivery. I told him that since I need to learn the Japanese Language and pass certain level of the Japanese Language Proficiency Test, I have to go in April. But I checked with the Japanese Embassy anyway.
After listening to my dilemma, the officer in charge at the Embassy kindly told me that yes, it might be possible to defer the commencement date of my study to October. “But wouldn’t it be better if you go next year? Why don’t you re-apply?,” the officer advised. She was worried because I’m due to deliver in September, and normally they only allow student to go two months after delivery. But, no thank you – I refuse to go through all the procedures all over again. Besides, there’s no guarantee that I will get the scholarship if I re-apply. So, I was asked to write a letter, in addition to my first letter of appeal to defer the commencement date of my study, to state that I’m willing to take all responsibilities with regard to my post-natal condition as well as willing to oblige should I be asked to leave in early October.
I’m still waiting to get a formal reply from the Japanese Embassy – but things seemed almost resolved now. I’m greedy that way – I want both the baby and the scholarship. So, all things considered, perhaps going in October is probably the best option I have right now – after my delivery insya Allah. I know I will probably still be weak in October. And I might not be able to breastfeed my baby for long. And I will miss both baby and hubby terribly much until baby is old enough (3 months) to travel to Japan. But I’ll worry about that when the time comes…
After all, sometimes, things we worry about never happen anyway.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Burning old memories
Staying at home meant I had more time to do stuff I normally wouldn’t have time for – like flipping through old family albums at my in-law’s place, and flipping through my hubby’s photos from his university days.
Then I found one picture of him in Cairo airport with a pose similar to a picture of mine taken in Leeds airport. I smiled, was quite pleased to note that even when we did not know of each other’s existence, fate had it that we had similar photos taken at the airport. I turned the picture over, curious to read any caption because I know my husband sometimes wrote stuff at the back of photos. What I read immediately wiped the smile away from my face.
Apparently, he had given the photo to his ex, but she had returned it – as I later found out - along with other photos, postcards and stuff. The discovery of that picture somehow prompted me to look for other photos with similar wordings. One thing led to another and I found out that he still kept postcards that he’d sent to her (which she obviously had returned to him) and several pictures of the two of them were kept separately from other albums.
Okay – normally I’m not an overly jealous person. I can’t get jealous easily – he’s an ustaz and is regularly consulted by so many women. Besides, he has always been honest and open with me about his previous relationships, which I didn’t question much because we’ve both agreed to let bygones be bygones and start anew. Thus, right before my wedding, I’d carefully looked through my files and sifted evidence of previous relationships, be it printed email or letters. No pictures of just-the-two-of-us were saved. I made up my mind that my wedding is a new beginning and I wanted to start it clean.
So, finding those pictures and evidence of my husband’s previous relationship – in the same drawer rack in which I keep my stuff – really stunned me.
Granted, nobody wants a person nobody else wanted. But noticing how he’d used the same words he used with me, addressing her with the same term of endearments, noticing how cute and innocent the other girl looked, and how happy he seemed standing or sitting closely next to her and reading his teases on the postcards and the lovey dovey messages at the back of the photos he sent to her – really upset me. It made me felt like I was second best, a substitute for the main player who had been unexpectedly injured in an important match.
Granted, he’s entitled to have his memories with his ex. After all, I have my own share of history too. It’s just that I wished he would not keep those offending stuff anywhere near my sight – and definitely not in the drawer right below mine. I know I can’t take away the memories, but wouldn’t he at least consider to keep them elsewhere so that I will never ever stumble upon them? I can understand if he kept stuff he'd received from her but I felt that it was really frustrating to note that he kept stuff he'd given to her which she had returned to him. Obviously it is a signal that to her, they were done, over, finished. Which made me wonder – why did he still keep them?
A day after my discovery, I was admitted to the hospital. Perhaps my distress worsen my already-not-so-good condition. Yes, I cried. Over some stupid photos and postcards. Don't ask me why, I just could not help myself. But I refrained myself from discussing them with him until he returned home for the CNY break.
I told him about what I’ve found and how my discovery pained me. I’ve put those stuff aside as I wanted to give them to him. I knew I could have secretly, quietly disposed of them but felt it wouldn’t be right for me to do so. They belonged to him, so only he had the right to decide what to do with them.
“Just throw them away,” he quietly instructed.
“No, I don’t want to do that. They belong to you. Throw them if you want to, but don’t ask me to do that.”
“Sayang, honestly I thought I’ve gotten rid of them. I’m sorry, but I must have overlooked these. I’ve burnt the rest before… Why don’t you burn these for me now?”
So, I finally did just that. And oh my – how good it felt to witness those offending photos and old postcards being slowly burnt. I know I will never be able to burn old memories, but at least watching the memorabilia being destroyed was kind of healing. Therapeutic almost.
Then I found one picture of him in Cairo airport with a pose similar to a picture of mine taken in Leeds airport. I smiled, was quite pleased to note that even when we did not know of each other’s existence, fate had it that we had similar photos taken at the airport. I turned the picture over, curious to read any caption because I know my husband sometimes wrote stuff at the back of photos. What I read immediately wiped the smile away from my face.
Apparently, he had given the photo to his ex, but she had returned it – as I later found out - along with other photos, postcards and stuff. The discovery of that picture somehow prompted me to look for other photos with similar wordings. One thing led to another and I found out that he still kept postcards that he’d sent to her (which she obviously had returned to him) and several pictures of the two of them were kept separately from other albums.
Okay – normally I’m not an overly jealous person. I can’t get jealous easily – he’s an ustaz and is regularly consulted by so many women. Besides, he has always been honest and open with me about his previous relationships, which I didn’t question much because we’ve both agreed to let bygones be bygones and start anew. Thus, right before my wedding, I’d carefully looked through my files and sifted evidence of previous relationships, be it printed email or letters. No pictures of just-the-two-of-us were saved. I made up my mind that my wedding is a new beginning and I wanted to start it clean.
So, finding those pictures and evidence of my husband’s previous relationship – in the same drawer rack in which I keep my stuff – really stunned me.
Granted, nobody wants a person nobody else wanted. But noticing how he’d used the same words he used with me, addressing her with the same term of endearments, noticing how cute and innocent the other girl looked, and how happy he seemed standing or sitting closely next to her and reading his teases on the postcards and the lovey dovey messages at the back of the photos he sent to her – really upset me. It made me felt like I was second best, a substitute for the main player who had been unexpectedly injured in an important match.
Granted, he’s entitled to have his memories with his ex. After all, I have my own share of history too. It’s just that I wished he would not keep those offending stuff anywhere near my sight – and definitely not in the drawer right below mine. I know I can’t take away the memories, but wouldn’t he at least consider to keep them elsewhere so that I will never ever stumble upon them? I can understand if he kept stuff he'd received from her but I felt that it was really frustrating to note that he kept stuff he'd given to her which she had returned to him. Obviously it is a signal that to her, they were done, over, finished. Which made me wonder – why did he still keep them?
A day after my discovery, I was admitted to the hospital. Perhaps my distress worsen my already-not-so-good condition. Yes, I cried. Over some stupid photos and postcards. Don't ask me why, I just could not help myself. But I refrained myself from discussing them with him until he returned home for the CNY break.
I told him about what I’ve found and how my discovery pained me. I’ve put those stuff aside as I wanted to give them to him. I knew I could have secretly, quietly disposed of them but felt it wouldn’t be right for me to do so. They belonged to him, so only he had the right to decide what to do with them.
“Just throw them away,” he quietly instructed.
“No, I don’t want to do that. They belong to you. Throw them if you want to, but don’t ask me to do that.”
“Sayang, honestly I thought I’ve gotten rid of them. I’m sorry, but I must have overlooked these. I’ve burnt the rest before… Why don’t you burn these for me now?”
So, I finally did just that. And oh my – how good it felt to witness those offending photos and old postcards being slowly burnt. I know I will never be able to burn old memories, but at least watching the memorabilia being destroyed was kind of healing. Therapeutic almost.
The reason for my long absence
Sorry I was gone for so long. I was away in February – melepek at home due to lots and lots of vomiting. Had several episodes of hyperemesis gravidarum (HG). It came as quite a surprise, really. I mean, I have been warned about feeling nauseous and all, but since I have been quite fit prior to my pregnancy I thought I could handle it. Yeah, right. I learned that while it’s not entirely my fault, whether or not I vomit is beyond my control. Besides, while nausea and vomit may be common in pregnancy, HG is something more, which only occurs in 0.5-10 cases per 1000 pregnancies. The fact that my biological mother had history of severe vomiting did not make things any better, it could be in the genes. I became so sensitive that anything and everything could cause vomiting. A heightened sense of smell meant I could not be in the kitchen during breakfast in the presence of Ayah’s steaming hot mug of Nescafe or while Mak cooked, my husband had to switch to another perfume, and certain brand of car perfumes were simply intolerable. Sensitivity to motion meant not only I could not drive, but also no long journey for me. Daily trip from Seremban to Putrajaya meant early morning run to the toilet after I clocked in and even a short trip from PJ to Putrajaya was enough to make me vomit. I vomited whether or not I consumed anything. If I eat something and I would be vomiting it later, otherwise I would still vomit some yellowish gooey. I could not tolerate food or fluid orally for long. Not even when I consumed what used to be my favourite food – sushi, cheese sandwich, even fruits. As a result of my inability to eat or drink, I think I have become more sympathetic towards anorexics. I still feel nauseous from time to time now, but during the few weeks of HG peak incidence, it was something else. No, asam (sour stuff) did not help with lessening the nausea. Nor did minyak cap kapak. In fact, the faintest smell of minyak cap kapak could send me running to the toilet. I could only stand the smell of Vick’s Vaporub if I needed ointment of some kind. At least now I can lessen the nausea simply by taking Nicolet nutmeg candy. By the end of my 10th week, I’d lost 9kg compared to my pre-pregnancy weight - about 15% weight loss. My blood pressure was all-time low - once the reading showed 89/53. I’d been treated with a total of 14 bottles of drip – 9 bottles of Hartmann’s Solution during my first treatment at Hospital Seremban, 2 bottles of normal saline 2 weeks later and 3 bottles of Hartmann’s Solution the following week. I had also been prescribed with Maxilon (Metoclopramide, a.k.a. Reglan), to be taken no more than three 10mg pills a day. (Later, I found out that despite it being more effective than most older medications, there could be a lot of side effects of taking this ‘safe-for-pregnant-mother-drug). Still, I guess the risk of treating with drugs that are most effective is often less risky than not treating at all since I have been told that dehydration and malnutrition worsen HG symptoms and can adversely affect the baby. Alhamdulillah, in my case, my baby's progress was not adversely affected. The doctor at PPUM who attended to me during my third visit to the emergency room was kind enough to give me a copy of my baby's ultra-sound scan picture and just looking at the black-and-white image of the forming head, hands and legs were enough to make me forget all the vomiting I'd gone through for him (ok, it's wishful thinking, we won't be able to tell the gender of the baby until after a month or two) Alhamdulillah, I have a very supportive family during the incidence. I moved temporarily back to my parents’ place in PJ after I was discharged from Hospital Seremban. Ayah and Mak took the Komuter to Seremban, to pick me up and drove me back to PJ using my car. Still, both Mak and my mother-in-law tried their best to oblige whenever I fancied eating anything – be it rice porridge, sambal bilis kering, terung bakar, pucuk ubi, daun turi or anything. Mak noticed how I only took my (daily half scoop of) rice steaming hot and must always be accompanied by really hot sambal and commented that my child will probably be like her who likes hot stuff. I must admit that while I could normally tolerate hot food, lately, I’ve grown to like cili api more. Anyway, I depended more on bananas instead of rice during those few weeks and Ayah always made sure we had steady supply of those. I’m thankful to have supportive friends too, who kept calling and sending SMS from time to time to check on me. The thing about HG, usually only those who have had it could truly understand how miserable and exhausting it could be. My body would ask me to just lay down and do nothing to fight the nausea as I've learned by experience that being active could only worsen the symptoms. So, even when friends called me at 12 p.m., I would normally still be in bed, but having friends checking up, showing their care and concern helped cheering me up a bit and made me felt better – emotionally at least, if not physically. And that made a whole lot of difference. In a way I’m also thankful that I went through such period. I was unable to go to work for a month because I was very weak and in a constant state of dizziness, but sometimes, when it wasn’t so bad, I could read the Quran and recite some zikr. In a way, the incidence gave me an opportunity to remember Allah more. And my short stay in the O&G ward gave me a reason to be more positive about my condition – it might be bad for me, but others are facing worse conditions. And so I count my blessings. |
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