bob [b-orb] adverb, noun, verb
~ term for a variety of emotional states :
excited / confused / hopeful / a bit fearful / confident / loved
After tomorrow, someone new will come into my life.
My Physiotherapist.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
i'm fine... soon
as some may have known, i recently hurt my hand in a fist fight with my kitchen wall. Yes, adrenalin made me assume the wall is filled with beanies, thus my latest research findings; adrenalin is actually brain juice pumped to every part of the body, sans the brain itself.
Anyway the fierce battle left me with a distorted hand and a pair of hysterical parents. It was a surreal moment as I reasoned within myself seconds after impact. I thought, did my knuckle shift back? No, not possible. Unless, i dislocated it in the weirdest fashion possible. And i really believed so. Coz given the pain at that moment, nay, how serious could it be?
I was so wrong.
We went to the A&E at SGH. Initial examination had everyone believing it was a bruise swelling that gave me a pain scaled 5 out of 10. Did a routine X-ray and nurse gave me a queue number to wait along with the rest of the patients. Nothing strange, until i got a phone call shortly after i got my queue number.
"Mr Li, can you please come to room 12 now?"
Eh? Why the special treatment. Something's not right.. And as i was being led to view the x-ray, doc lamented to me...
" Nian qing ren, why so chong dong?"
And lo and behold. My x ray result.
( vulgar text here ).
My hand's screwed. Big time.
I couldn't believe beneath the swell was the broken ends of my bone. It's a pretty clean break i must say. So effectively, I have increased my body's bone count by 1. It's so uncool.
I was whisked off immediately to see the hand specialist. A big friendly man. Nice fella who did an analyst of the x-ray and like some CSI show, explained how it became so ugly. Basically it's a typical boxer's fracture. When we drive our fist forward, the initial contact point is the middle knuckle. As we impact, the wrist naturally bends the fist to transfer the momentum downwards from the middle, to the ring knuckle and finally, the pinkie's knuckle. At this junction, there isn't any more knuckles that I can transfer the flow of energy, so the last knuckle absorbs all the force. And it's a lot of force by non boxer's standard. Therefore the inevitable fracture.
Like what my doc Tay said, " Wah, you pumped the wall so hard?"
Strong ah, bob?
Then i found out why we needed such a big man for a hand specialist. As he prepared the cast for my broken hand, he told me it's gonna hurt a bit.
And.. i believed him. Coz, he's the doc.
right.
IT FREAKING HURT A BIG BIT.
Wah.. i could feel him pressing the broken ends down to meet again. His huge hands provided ample strength to forcibly hold my hand together again, and he packed in a lot of pain too.
So that was it. The cast was set till last week when the doc changed it to a plastic splint for support and increased level of convenience. Currently i am waiting for my ops next monday, and hopefully no complications watsoever, I can resume my life with my new metalic implant.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
It has been an amazing life's lesson that I have never prepared for.
I learnt a lot. I saw a lot of emotion. I saw how vulnerable is the human brain. I saw mankind's weaknesses. I saw those who cared, those who tried to care and those who never did. Some encourage, some simply disgust me big time. Then i realised how much my heart has been wrought by my circumstances. Yes I have changed as a result of this incident. But i guess it's just a routine I needed to go through to be me.
Overnight I became a burden. I couldnt do the dishes, sweep and mop the floor. I relied a lot on people around me. I came closer to understanding how it feels like to be a handicapped. It is just so tough. Many may try to empathize, but who really knows the emotional strain we go through? Who really understand our thoughts? It is more than just a disablement of a portion of the body, but a lost of some of our abilities that we have taken for granted all our lives.
So wounded that i felt wasted. I fought so much emotional battles just to smile again. Don't assume I am weak. Try standing in my shoes as you remove the splint to wash your hand; the deformed hand with a cavity in your palm and an unnatural bump on the reverse side beckons out to you. As you scrub it, a sickening feeling runs through your body as your last finger sways precariously because it is no longer supported by the palm structure. Every wiped is coupled with an unnerving sensation that runs from the finger to the elbow. As you turn your hand around to wash the underside, half of your palm flops along with gravity. Try holding the soap and you realize you lost the use of ur last 2 fingers.
Then there is this host of people I need to coax and reassure. I lied so that they wont feel so sad. I encouraged them by day and cried by night. I have put up such a fort that no one knew the wounded me inside. Not even myself.
I have lost a lot, But i am not giving up. I have cried all i needed, so now it's time to move on. At least my hand's a lot more mobile now ever since the swelling gone down. At least i can still type.
Thank you to all who stood by me and encouraged me in your big and little ways. Much appreciated. Special thanks to my granny, my fav cousin, girlfriend, church friends, Sim friends who bothered to ask ard for my condition, and of coz my parents, for standing by me despite being such a disappointment.
I will be better. I promise. Because you all have given me a reason to.
loved.
bob
Anyway the fierce battle left me with a distorted hand and a pair of hysterical parents. It was a surreal moment as I reasoned within myself seconds after impact. I thought, did my knuckle shift back? No, not possible. Unless, i dislocated it in the weirdest fashion possible. And i really believed so. Coz given the pain at that moment, nay, how serious could it be?
I was so wrong.
We went to the A&E at SGH. Initial examination had everyone believing it was a bruise swelling that gave me a pain scaled 5 out of 10. Did a routine X-ray and nurse gave me a queue number to wait along with the rest of the patients. Nothing strange, until i got a phone call shortly after i got my queue number.
"Mr Li, can you please come to room 12 now?"
Eh? Why the special treatment. Something's not right.. And as i was being led to view the x-ray, doc lamented to me...
" Nian qing ren, why so chong dong?"
And lo and behold. My x ray result.
( vulgar text here ).
My hand's screwed. Big time.
I couldn't believe beneath the swell was the broken ends of my bone. It's a pretty clean break i must say. So effectively, I have increased my body's bone count by 1. It's so uncool.
I was whisked off immediately to see the hand specialist. A big friendly man. Nice fella who did an analyst of the x-ray and like some CSI show, explained how it became so ugly. Basically it's a typical boxer's fracture. When we drive our fist forward, the initial contact point is the middle knuckle. As we impact, the wrist naturally bends the fist to transfer the momentum downwards from the middle, to the ring knuckle and finally, the pinkie's knuckle. At this junction, there isn't any more knuckles that I can transfer the flow of energy, so the last knuckle absorbs all the force. And it's a lot of force by non boxer's standard. Therefore the inevitable fracture.
Like what my doc Tay said, " Wah, you pumped the wall so hard?"
Strong ah, bob?
Then i found out why we needed such a big man for a hand specialist. As he prepared the cast for my broken hand, he told me it's gonna hurt a bit.
And.. i believed him. Coz, he's the doc.
right.
IT FREAKING HURT A BIG BIT.
Wah.. i could feel him pressing the broken ends down to meet again. His huge hands provided ample strength to forcibly hold my hand together again, and he packed in a lot of pain too.
So that was it. The cast was set till last week when the doc changed it to a plastic splint for support and increased level of convenience. Currently i am waiting for my ops next monday, and hopefully no complications watsoever, I can resume my life with my new metalic implant.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
It has been an amazing life's lesson that I have never prepared for.
I learnt a lot. I saw a lot of emotion. I saw how vulnerable is the human brain. I saw mankind's weaknesses. I saw those who cared, those who tried to care and those who never did. Some encourage, some simply disgust me big time. Then i realised how much my heart has been wrought by my circumstances. Yes I have changed as a result of this incident. But i guess it's just a routine I needed to go through to be me.
Overnight I became a burden. I couldnt do the dishes, sweep and mop the floor. I relied a lot on people around me. I came closer to understanding how it feels like to be a handicapped. It is just so tough. Many may try to empathize, but who really knows the emotional strain we go through? Who really understand our thoughts? It is more than just a disablement of a portion of the body, but a lost of some of our abilities that we have taken for granted all our lives.
So wounded that i felt wasted. I fought so much emotional battles just to smile again. Don't assume I am weak. Try standing in my shoes as you remove the splint to wash your hand; the deformed hand with a cavity in your palm and an unnatural bump on the reverse side beckons out to you. As you scrub it, a sickening feeling runs through your body as your last finger sways precariously because it is no longer supported by the palm structure. Every wiped is coupled with an unnerving sensation that runs from the finger to the elbow. As you turn your hand around to wash the underside, half of your palm flops along with gravity. Try holding the soap and you realize you lost the use of ur last 2 fingers.
Then there is this host of people I need to coax and reassure. I lied so that they wont feel so sad. I encouraged them by day and cried by night. I have put up such a fort that no one knew the wounded me inside. Not even myself.
I have lost a lot, But i am not giving up. I have cried all i needed, so now it's time to move on. At least my hand's a lot more mobile now ever since the swelling gone down. At least i can still type.
Thank you to all who stood by me and encouraged me in your big and little ways. Much appreciated. Special thanks to my granny, my fav cousin, girlfriend, church friends, Sim friends who bothered to ask ard for my condition, and of coz my parents, for standing by me despite being such a disappointment.
I will be better. I promise. Because you all have given me a reason to.
loved.
bob
Monday, August 18, 2008
no tear, no fear.
world oh world, where is the beautiful soul i so believed in? why is your countenance turning darker by the careless flow of time? is there no love?
i shall not crumble, never will i fall. i will fight on, even when all has forsaken. i'm down, not out.
Oh God, please help.
i shall not crumble, never will i fall. i will fight on, even when all has forsaken. i'm down, not out.
Oh God, please help.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Boonbag photoshoop
Yes! Finally we had our first ever professionally taken photoshoot.
Okay i lied. Again.
It's actually for Kun's wedding photo / video. Nevertheless, it was great fun, despite the erratic weather.
And do you know what is the coolest thing of doing your own MTV? You can play wrong notes, get in and out of tempo at will, headbang like Michael Jackson (hah) and at the end of the day when everything is mixed together, MAgic! Action-beh-dey like dunno what and we get studio quality output. Talk about the adobe revolution~!
As for the sound on site, we didnt even need to bring our amps along. Just plug one end to our instruments, and the other end to the drummer's stool~! truly, we bring new meaning to "musical chair". No wonder Waiyin looked a bit out of sort with all those cables running from his position.
Everything went pretty well. Yupz. Can't wait to see the jumping shots~!
Bob
Okay i lied. Again.
It's actually for Kun's wedding photo / video. Nevertheless, it was great fun, despite the erratic weather.
And do you know what is the coolest thing of doing your own MTV? You can play wrong notes, get in and out of tempo at will, headbang like Michael Jackson (hah) and at the end of the day when everything is mixed together, MAgic! Action-beh-dey like dunno what and we get studio quality output. Talk about the adobe revolution~!
As for the sound on site, we didnt even need to bring our amps along. Just plug one end to our instruments, and the other end to the drummer's stool~! truly, we bring new meaning to "musical chair". No wonder Waiyin looked a bit out of sort with all those cables running from his position.
Everything went pretty well. Yupz. Can't wait to see the jumping shots~!
Bob
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
blog for my dear brain
i'm here again. in a place i almost forgot. My rambles are no longer heard, as much of it is concealed beneath this scalp of mine, suppressed and never really expressed, except in little notions driven in all directions but the obvious.
work has been choking up my weekly schedules. I watch my life slip thru my fingers as i slowly lose control over what was once mine. i feel like i'm constantly giving, be it of my time, finance or effort, i'm diverting all these personal resources to anyone but myself. Although many a times i find myself at the losing end, still i derive joy from such charitable acts. Perverted, but in a good way.
National Day would have taken little significance if it weren't for the passing of my alma mater's ex-principal. I had volunteered to play in my alumni band for his funeral service that morning. Yes, after years of trombone abstinence , i picked up my instrument in good faith and contributed whatever talent(or the lack of it) I have, in remembrance of a great leader of the St. Andrew's family. Truth of the matter, i was never under him during my secondary school days. When I joined st andrews i was already under the then acting principal Mrs Krempl, who eventually saw me all the way thru my saintly days. So why did I actually bother to drag myself out of bed at 6 am with barely 4 hours rest and ignored my scheduler to scorch under the sun for a man i never really knew?
Simply, it was my love of the band members, appreciation of his contributions and the pride of my school.
If it werent for the likes of Shenloong and benny, I would have long deserted that hellhole like 3/4 of my cohort who did so. We practiced so many weekdays' afternoons away to live up to the good name of sasmb, endured countless punishments in accordance to the whims and fancies of our seniors. Still it was because of this comradeship we shared, compelled me to extend a helping hand when my fellow section mate, Arthur, requested for our help.
Mr Harry Tan was the man who supported the band through its infancy and all the way to one that shares the stage with the very best in Singapore and perhaps, the world. How can I not return this favor in his final rites? No Mr Harry Tan, no band, no trombonist me.
Finally, I love my school. I take pride in being called a saint. Although there is this kinda love-hate relationship I have with St Andrews, I still love this place and i hope to send my kids (boys of coz) back there to experience the st andrews way of life.
Anyway i had a great time catching up with my friends, playing my much beloved trombone, and I also saw several of my former teachers and school mates. Guess it's pretty heartwarming when generations of SA boys came together in one accord to remember this great saint of our time. All that fatigue and blazing heat is worth every bit. Definitely.
my love of the school, made me a fool. A happy one indeed.
RIP Mr Harry Tan
With this, I would like to end with the last stanza of my school's hymn:
One family unbroken We join with one acclaim, One heart, one voice uplifting To glorify Thy name.
What's a gathering without a parting shot?
Up and On!
work has been choking up my weekly schedules. I watch my life slip thru my fingers as i slowly lose control over what was once mine. i feel like i'm constantly giving, be it of my time, finance or effort, i'm diverting all these personal resources to anyone but myself. Although many a times i find myself at the losing end, still i derive joy from such charitable acts. Perverted, but in a good way.
National Day would have taken little significance if it weren't for the passing of my alma mater's ex-principal. I had volunteered to play in my alumni band for his funeral service that morning. Yes, after years of trombone abstinence , i picked up my instrument in good faith and contributed whatever talent(or the lack of it) I have, in remembrance of a great leader of the St. Andrew's family. Truth of the matter, i was never under him during my secondary school days. When I joined st andrews i was already under the then acting principal Mrs Krempl, who eventually saw me all the way thru my saintly days. So why did I actually bother to drag myself out of bed at 6 am with barely 4 hours rest and ignored my scheduler to scorch under the sun for a man i never really knew?
Simply, it was my love of the band members, appreciation of his contributions and the pride of my school.
If it werent for the likes of Shenloong and benny, I would have long deserted that hellhole like 3/4 of my cohort who did so. We practiced so many weekdays' afternoons away to live up to the good name of sasmb, endured countless punishments in accordance to the whims and fancies of our seniors. Still it was because of this comradeship we shared, compelled me to extend a helping hand when my fellow section mate, Arthur, requested for our help.
Mr Harry Tan was the man who supported the band through its infancy and all the way to one that shares the stage with the very best in Singapore and perhaps, the world. How can I not return this favor in his final rites? No Mr Harry Tan, no band, no trombonist me.
Finally, I love my school. I take pride in being called a saint. Although there is this kinda love-hate relationship I have with St Andrews, I still love this place and i hope to send my kids (boys of coz) back there to experience the st andrews way of life.
Anyway i had a great time catching up with my friends, playing my much beloved trombone, and I also saw several of my former teachers and school mates. Guess it's pretty heartwarming when generations of SA boys came together in one accord to remember this great saint of our time. All that fatigue and blazing heat is worth every bit. Definitely.
my love of the school, made me a fool. A happy one indeed.
RIP Mr Harry Tan
With this, I would like to end with the last stanza of my school's hymn:
One family unbroken We join with one acclaim, One heart, one voice uplifting To glorify Thy name.
What's a gathering without a parting shot?
Up and On!
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