MJ's Passing

Yesterday (26th June '09), Michael Jackson dubbed also as the King of Pop by beautiful-gone-eccentric Elizabeth Taylor, passed on.

I was never a huge fan of MJ himself (though I loved the beautiful Elizabeth Taylor esp. in that movie "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof".. err sorry, off-tangent here).. but I liked him enough to have bought a couple of albums back in the 80s and 90s. I remember freaking out everytime I saw the "Thriller" music video (it scared the bejeebers out of me), and I hated that famous red jacket he wore, but after that found "Bad" extremely entertaining. Like most teens back then, I adored that weepy song "You Are Not Alone" until the radio played it soo often your ears would bleed if you heard it one more time. After those turbulent years, to this day I still like his oldies from the Jackson Five days, especially "Ben" (for some reason, dunno why!) and of course you couldn't have grown up in the 80s and not recall "We Are The World" with much fondness.

Suffice to say, I did appreciate some of his music and talent as an entertainer. Who on earth could've created those dance moves other than good ol' MJ?

Frankly, I wasn't one of those people who was so sure that he was a molester as charged. I wasn't too sure that he wasn't either. Whatever the truth is, isn't it for God to judge and not us?

Now he's passed on, and his cycle of life is complete. Whether it is true he died a Muslim or not, only God knows.

Yang dah pergi tu, sudah lah. Let it be.

When I was in primary school, I had a friend who was veryyy much into MJ. You could say she lived and breathed MJ. I saw her last during our uni years, and she was still very much into him. I wonder how she's handling the passing of her idol. I don't particularly have an idol, so I wouldn't know.

Anyways..

His songs however will live on in my fond-nest childhood memories. A bunch of us singing "We Are The World" for some concert in SRK SSP. My friends Audrey, Zarihan and myself clumsily attempting the Moon Walk dance one day when we stayed back at school for co-curriculum activities... laughing our heads off when we came across like chickens doing the hokey-pokey instead of the glamorous Moon Walk. We've all gone separate ways and live separate lives now. A group of black-clad girls hanging out at the neighbourhood park with walkmen hanging out of our ears, singing "You Are Not Alone" at the top of our lungs, with much passion and weepy-ness. I still see some of the girls once in a while with kids or boyfriends in tow at the Sunday neighbourhood pasar malam.

So even though he won't be hearing this.. thanks MJ, for your songs.

H1N1 Gets Too Darn Close For Comfort

My nephew Shazwan's school (SM Damansara Utama / SMDU) has two cases of H1N1-infected students. Said students are supposed to have been properly quarantined as we speak.

Then for the life of me, please explain, SMDU, why we had to learn of this from the TV3 van parked in front of the school, which of course evoked Shazwan's dear old Atuk's curiousity (dear ol' Dad).. and he of course walked into the school to make enquiries on the matter. I doubt any parent was properly informed about this. Then TV3 talked about it during the 1.30 news and I suppose that's how most parents would learn about this piece of news.

Schools. Don't they have any sense of responsibility towards their students and the students' parents? And what the heck are those people in Jabatan Kesihatan doing? Wanna wait till the whole Damansara Utama is infected or quarantined, then baru decide to close the school, issit?

Excuse me if I sound pissed. That's coz I am.

H1N1's too close for comfort indeed.

Of Cicaks

I HATE house lizards a.k.a. cicaks. I hate it when they appear out of nowhere and start crawling and squirming all over your legs in utter panic (who's supposed to be panicky here?!). I hate it when they sneak their heads out of under the washing machine to peak at what I'm doing in my own kitchen in the middle of the night and early mornings. I hate the very way they wriggle and squirm. They are utterly disgusting and I cannot stand them. The very thought of cicaks squirming anywhere within a ten-foot pole's distant is enough to make the hair on my neck stand up. Gross!

Today it happened again. I was busy washing chicken pieces to cook for lunch and had been standing there for a good 10 minutes when suddenly a cicak crawled onto my foot and started wriggling from foot to foot. Grosssssssss!

You bet I did a grand red-indian-rain-dance complete with shrieks that put those crows on the windowsill to shame. And to add salt to wound, the maid who had never seen her stalwart employer so out of control immediately got to her feet like a person at the ready to go to war, with exclamations of; "Puan! Puan! Apa itu? Apa ituuu?? Apa ituuuu Puannnnn???!" .. and in all that commotion, Gibran grabbed his lightsaber and rushed into the kitchen with shrieks of; "Kenape Mummy?! Kenape Mummy?? Kenapaaaaaaaaaaa Mummyy!! Are you okay?! ARE YOU OKAY MUMMYYYYY!!"....

Pffft.

All that just for one lousy cicak's sake.

I wish I know how to exterminate those pests!

Trust Issues

I have major trust issues. When Gibran was little and sick soo often, I hardly let anyone else hold him at family gatherings because I was sick of having a sick baby all the time. I also felt as if I was dreadfully troublesome if anyone held my baby too long because I hate troubling people.

I never leave Gibran alone with the maid at home. Hardly ever. The only times I'd left him alone at home was when he was sleeping and I needed to get bread or something important that wouldn't require more than 30 minutes. Even with our trusted old maid, I didn't. And now with the new one, lagi lah never. Hardly ever. Whenever I need to run errands or go for classes, I'd drop Gibran and the maid off at my parents' place. I have "visions" (of the not-good-sort) of maid running off or simply neglecting my kid in some way. Always.

I never even let the maid feed or bathe Gibran. Except for those days when I was very ill (last year when the implants were infected), and on days when I'm not around (running errands or at class), I would be the one feeding or bathing or simply doing anything/everything for Gibran. The maid is there only when I need assistance of some sort.

I've only left Gibran to go to bed without me during the times when I was hospitalised and was too ill. Other than that, noone else puts Gibran to bed except for H and myself. I have not been out till late at night with friends or for whatever function since Gibran was born because I always make sure I'm there when he's put to bed. As a result, whenever we're forced to leave him at night (the occasional wedding reception or discussion after our night classes), he'd start asking for Mummy and Baba as soon as the clock hits 10 p.m. Sometimes when he gets into fights with his cousins, he'd cry his eyes out for hours if we're not around. On that sort of occasion, we've had to rush back home to see to him. Like tonight for instance, our friend from Melbourne is in KL and hoping to meet up for late dinner and supper and a late-into-night gossip session.. and I was forced to back out because I didn't want to leave Gibran alone well into the wee hours of morning. Normally he'd follow us wherever we go, but tonight's meeting was a smokey joint (the sort we never failed to frequent a few times a week pre-Gibran days), and we couldn't risk exposing Gib to all that smoke.

My Dad likes to take his grandkids out with the maids as guardians/assistants. Last year they went to the zoo when I was still bed-ridden, so I didn't let Gibran go because I wouldn't be there to monitor him. H and I aren't comfortable with the maid being in charge of him on an outing like that for the whole morning. If he messes around with filthy things, the maid wouldn't care. She wouldn't even care about thoroughly scrubbing her hands and nails before feeding him if we weren't there. And what if he gets sick from all that heat and sun and lack of water because for sure the maid wouldn't pay attention to all those small details. That was when we had Nila, whom we actually did trust. Last week his cousins went to the zoo (with my Dad and sister's maid tagging along as Dad's assistant), and Gib couldn't go because I wasn't feeling too well and again, I wouldn't be around to fully-monitor the maid. New maid some more this time. How can we trust her..? But then, we didn't let Nila be in charge back then too.

Nowadays, Gibran is my constant shadow. He'll rush upstairs if he hears me walking around although I've just sent him downstairs to the maid not two minutes before that. And I was just about to take a shower and solat. Everyday I have to make sure we go to the park because that's the only place where he'd be too busy to look for me, and for once I'd have a chance to exercise. When the weather's lousy and I'm forced to workout at home, guess who'd be sitting right beside me while I'm working out?

Ninety percent of the time I love it. I love being a mother, I love this great kid I've been blessed with. He talks so well that he is now like a companion. I don't regret sacrificing my career because I believe that having me stay at home is the best thing for all of us. Not a minute goes by that I don't thank God for the ability to live normally. Things people take for granted like standing, walking, cooking, driving and so on. I try never to forget the days when I could not do all of that.

But then there are those times when I am unsure if these trust issues are making life harder... not easier. Are they, really?

When friends ask us to go out till the wee hours of morning, our conscience just can't take it. What if the people we leave Gibran with aren't taking care of him right? I don't miss the nightlife and I don't particularly like to hang out all night and come back to a quiet home and a sleeping kid who didn't get to hug Mummy goodnight. And yet there is that small part of me that sometimes wishes that I could just let go and relax a little.

In our circle of friends, there are friends with kids (including infants) who leave their kids behind with the maid or family members easily and have the luxury of going out there and having a life well beyond their little homes, and not worry too much about arranging childcare at the last minute, any time any day is a good time for having a good time.

And no, I am not envious or bitter. Honestly I'm not. And NO, I'm not judging them either because they're our good friends and everyone is entitled to their own ways of living. I just.... wonder why I cannot be like that!

The truth is that I'd rather be at home with a sleeping Gibran (who is muttering in his sleep right now) and a snoring H, after having had a pasar malam dinner of meehoon soup while watching Finding Nemo, with house chores waiting by my side (which I'm ignoring because, well.. d'uh, I'm blogging).. than being right there where I could otherwise be. Out there where the loud music used to soothe, the smokey air used to lull the troubles away, and loud and rowdy jokes are told with belly-splitting laughters.

I suppose we are happy in this quiet cocoon of ours.

Tag: Random Happiness

The hot Crash Test Mom has tagged me on 6 (un)important things that make me happy. So here goes!

The 6 (Un)important Things That Make Me Happy:

1. When Gibran says "Ban sayangggg Mummy".. without any prompting from me. Trouble is he doesn't do this often enough.

2. Any sort of retail therapy. Seriously. Go to pasar also can make me happy. Huhuhuuhuuu.. And don't get me started on how happy I get whenever I shop for clothes and make-up. :p

3. The post-workout feeling. Who doesn't like the feeling of having worked-out hard?!!! And tell me, who in the right mind likes to work out lah? I DON'T. I just like the after-workout feel coz I can eat the Peanut Butter Baskin Robbins ice-cream I got yesterday without feeling utterly FAT. If only we could have that after-workout feeling without working out.

4. A good pedicure. Manicures and facials are fun but I can live without them. Pedicures.. they're special somehow. Something about wearing open-toed sandals and looking at your feet looking lovely. Hehhhh perasannn.

5. Smoochie woochies from hubby. Heheheheheeeeeeee. Always works to chase the blues away. Err.. smoochie woochies from Gibby are somewhat better though :p I feel unconditionally loved! Sorry H. You're definitely second class citizen for now, bebeh.

6. Sitting around on the beach sand with my little family without caring what time or day it is. Throw that watch out into the sea!

And now comes the hard part. Who to tag..?!

Err..

Ok.... what about..

1. Slavemom.
2. Yatie.
3. Ummi Sa'eed.
4. Mummy Darren (if you're feeling better, dear!)
5. Family First (because it'll be nice to get to know you better)
6. Feenie (I haven't heard from you in ages! Rindu lah pulak!) ;)

But first I have to TELL them about the existence of this blog first... then baru can tag, right?? Hmmmm.

For Malaysians With Scoliosis

I have finally started a blog on Scoliosis and it is here:

http://scoliosismalaysia.blogspot.com/

It's still empty (no-frills) and I'll have to work on it a lot more. I'm hoping to meet up with several specialists this June and start building a proper support network for young people with Scoliosis. It will be no easy feat, so I pray God will help me as I go along.

To anyone out there with Scoliosis, or knows anyone with Scoliosis, or anyone seeking information regarding Scoliosis and its treatments in Malaysia.. please do get in touch with me through my email as shown in the Scoliosis blog.

This attempt is not to discuss the correct method for Scoliosis treatment, because treatments are patient-dependent. It is not to promote the sort of treatment(s) that I personally went through (surgical and non-surgical). It is for the sole purpose of getting Scoliosis patients together, so that they do no feel alone in their fight for "normality".

I will keep you guys updated with the progress to achieve a support group. Wish me luck, friends!

At Tesco Mutiara Damansara

As a Malaysian shopper, one has to constantly stand for one's rights!


Took this picture at Tesco Mutiara Damansara a while back and have been meaning to put it up. But yes, I've been neglecting this blog.. boohooo. The heart yearned to blog, but the body couldn't!! Go figure. Dunno how sometimes I just can't seem to find some good quality me-time to surf and blog.

Anyways. It seems that the sign was meant to mean.. "Limited to 4 per customer"... not "Limited to 24 units per customer". Ada ka patut????

Obviously someone made a big blunder here. Maybe that person's been sms-ing or chatting online too much. You know.. when you sms/chat you tend to shorten / abbreviate words and spellings like this.. "U tgh buatpe tu? ru goin 2 work l8er?". Well, you get my drift.

You bet I argued my case there. I'd taken 12 cans of those good stuff and I wasn't gonna pay the full price. Not when the sign clearly said 24 units. It isn't the customers' fault that they screwed it up, right?

They called the manager-on-duty and at first she didn't want to give me the discounted price. Admirably enough (woohoo angkat bakul!) I managed to NOT lose my cool. I just told her that I was terribly disappointed with Tesco and how often we shopped there, spending up to thousands of ringgits per month on groceries and misc. items. And this terribly disappointing incident was definitely going to put us off Tesco in the future. I guess that got to her somehow.. probably started her thinking about the loss of customer lifetime value and whatnot (they'd lose big bucks from our pockets alone and just imagine how many friends we'd be telling about this incident.. yes, you betcha)... and she quickly told the cashier.. "Takpe, takpe, bagi akak ni discounted price tu. Kesian dia."

Kesian ka..? Ataupun takut nanti customers lari? Huhuhuu..

Whatever it is, the bottom line is.. As a Malaysian consumer, sometimes you gotta go the distant to argue your case. Tsk tsk.

The Titanium Implants

April 30th marked one year of my second spinal surgery when the doctors took out the implants which were put in for spinal fusion / correction in October 2002.

I never took pictures of the titanium implants that used to be inside me. Much less blogged about it. Maybe it's hightime I do that, just for memory's sake.


This is a photo of the xray on the broken spinal implants which were taken in February 2008. The implants have been broken for some time and apparently became loose after all that time, especially since I gave birth. The implants caused infection in the area surrounding the spine, and caused high fever (on a daily basis) for nearly four months until I agreed to have them taken out in April 30th.


These are the implants, consisting of two long titanium rods which were screwed in on either side of my spinal cord, from T1 to L4. That means the first thoracic vertebrae (near the nape of the neck) until the fourth lumbar vertebrae (which is your lower back). Mine is an S-shaped curve, therefore it involves practically the entire length of spinal cord. In other words, the two long rods are.... very long. It ran the entire length of my spine from T1 to L4. Some patients only have a thoracic curve or only a lumbar curve, so their fusion (the spinal area which is operated on) will not be as lengthy. For instance, in one of my cousin's case (yes I've two other cousins with Scoliosis but both are doing fine with implants still on their spine), she has a lumbar curve and was operated only on the lumbar area, which means the long rods on her spine are only half as long as mine.


If I had to guess, I'd say the long titanium rods are perhaps about 40 cm long..? Not too sure about that but they're definitely longer than those long rulers kids use in school.


The screws and "pins" (can't remember exactly what they're called) were used to screw / pin the long rods onto the spinal cord. In other words, they help hold the rods in place. From the xray above you can see that the screw on my L4 vertebrae had broken, which caused the rods to slowly losen up because mother nature is after all stronger than titanium rods. By "mother nature" I mean the "natural" S-shape of my spine, which was apparently fighting to be held in place by the titanium rods and screws.

So why do I even bother taking pictures of the implants, and talking about them? Do I enjoy reminiscing and glorifying in the fact that I survived two major spinal surgeries and am still walking and living normally?

The truth is this. I want to remember and never forget. I want Gibran to remember and never forget. That we are small and Allah's fate is big and we cannot fight it. What we can do is to live with it and accept it as best as we can because this is what we do as "hamba" Allah. God's subjects.

To remember that all good things be it good or bad all come from God.

To remember that whatever bad that comes can be turned into something good and you must learn to live with it as best as you can.

To remember that Allah gives some, and Allah takes some. You can never have it all in this life.

And lastly, in the depth of my heart, I want to record this for whoever out there experiencing the same situation. Be it my blood or strangers. Maybe one day one of my grandkids would experience this. I don't know what God has in store. But I want to say my say, and my say is this; you can live with Scoliosis and spinal pain, but you have to have faith and be strong.

For God will help those who help themselves, Insyaallah.

Our fate is written, but not the way how you deal with it. You can accept it with grace, or you can moan and condemn yourself to unhappiness.

Like I said, I don't know if this is the end of the road. Scoliosis is a life-long thing, and one does not heal from Scoliosis. So I suppose in my own way, I am also writing this for myself. To tell myself to always remember that one day life can be good... and then the next day everything can change in a blink of an eye.

The titanium implants are now out here with me, to constantly remind me of all this.

When You Least Want It!

Have you ever gone out looking like a pauper / bag-lady / whatever-not-flattering-term-you-wanna-use-please-insert-here.... and then you bump into a blogger friend or someone you haven't seen in quite a while?

My karma's funny that way. Mind you, not funny ha-ha but funny NOT-funny, you know??!

Last Saturday we made an impromptu decision to go to One Utama because H needed to pick up his suit from Zara (a birthday + anniversary present from yours truly, ehemmmm). So I hurriedly threw whatever clothes I could get my hands on the quickest, tenyeh-tenyeh some light make-up on my face, put on the first hijab I found which seemed to match whatever clothes I'd put on, and hurriedly got Gibran and Gibran's stuff ready. As usual since Gib was born, I definitely spent more time getting him ready, rather than myself. Huhuuuhuuuu... sad case lah!

A few hours later as we ran out of fuel and about ready to head home (but not without some Roti Boy bread), into the lift we went to get some Roti Boy before heading home. As we struggled to get our "cute" bodies into the lift, I suddenly noticed a somewhat familiar face grinning at me. It turned out to be Sasha!

Hey Sasha, you look different than your pictures lah! And your kids are so cute! ;)

So despite not looking my best, I am definitely glad to have bumped into you! Hehehehee. Managed to chat also for a few minutes, which was nice :)

Then the real test happened yesterday.

We were heading home from my parents' house at 9.30 at night, when Mom (who was spending the night at our place) suddenly suggested we stop at Giant to get some stuff. I was dressed in a glorious "Environmental ABCs" t-shirt which I had had since I was thirteen years old and used to wear to the school's house practice and such. I figured since it was quite late on a Tuesday night, what are the chances of bumping into anyone we know lah?

Boy, was I wrong!

I had only one measly-looking scarf in the car which I threw on my head, and I even managed to touch my shiny nose with a spot of compact powder before rushing out of the car to make our quick purchases.

Lifts bring a unique sense of karma for me. I tend to bump into people in them.

As we were once again struggling to fit into an elivator, and heaving sighs of relief that everyone managed to fit into the small space, a lady wearing a fancy office outfit (obviously looking as if she just came back from work) with perfectly applied make-up suddenly called out...

"Nina... is that you...?"

Huhuhuuuuuuu. It was my junior from secondary school. We used to hang out while we attended curriculum activities and gossiped about boys back in the days when I constantly wore shorter-than-shorts cut-offs, Nirvana t-shirts and black nail polish.

So there I was in the greatest outfit of all times, chatting away as if I looked like a million bucks. I'm sure she'd seen me in this t-shirt before, in our teen days during one of those curriculum activities, and perhaps she might've even been amazed ("Wow! How thrifty! Still wearing clothes from our teenage days!").. with make-up-less face and drabby hijab and pants (mind you, I think hijabs are fashionable, just not the one I was wearing!) which may have further amazed her ("Wow! From a black nail polish-wearing girl who even wore make-up to house practice... to such a simple, fuss-less lady!").......

Goodness. Karma is a funny thing.

Lesson learned: Never ever go to public places with your house clothes.

I Need to Learn

Is it true that if a mother does not sleep at night because of caring of her sick child, that her pahala is similar to freeing 70 slaves?

I am ignorant and need to learn. I need guidance and direction. So help me God, and those of you out there?

H's cousin Abang Rizal helped out by sending some materials for me to study. Thanks Abang Rizal, I appreciate them! Although I am ashamed to say that I have not managed to go through all of them yet, I can honestly say I'm starting to make progress with my life, Insyaallah :)

But progress and learning should be continuous. Lollies, ada any advise tak? Where should I start this religious/spiritual quest?

A mother indeed gets a lot of pahala from raising her children. A form of Ibadah indeed. If only I knew better, I wouldn't have complained so much about that first year when Gibran was always ill and we feared we'd lose him every time he was sick.

So there. All the more reason for this much needed quest.


A then-ill Gibran reaching out to Mummy.