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For the past week I’ve been a little paranoid about my health because there was a nagging lump of a lymph node in my neck that I could feel with my index and middle fingers. I’ve went to the doctor at USJ 4, but found his answers and prescriptions to be unsatisfactory (he prescribed painkillers and something for allergy WTF it’s obviously not an allergy!) and I had to seek a second opinion to re-address my concerns.

I’ve always foolishly thought that cancer is that disease that affects other people but not our own, just like how famine is something that will always happen to those unfortunate Africans and other lesser developed places. I always thought we’re immune to such things, that we’ll always be in the best of our healths and will only be assaulted by trivial things like the cough, flu, and fever. AIDS, Hepatitis A/B/C, and other deadly illnesses will never get to reach us. Oh they never would.

But then my mum developed nose cancer out of the blue on a normal nondescript day. No abnormal thunderstorms or typhoons or earthquakes that accompany such a devastating news – everything was routine, normal.

And so as my mum’s cancer passed, it fell upon the shoulders of her children and my next kin that we bear the risk of developing it some day as well. So such a lump wasn’t something I’m going to ignore lest the potential cancer reached an incurable stage – although strangely enough I was already making vague plans of what I’m going to do if I’m dying wtf.

So I went to the all-reliable Klinik Ooi at SS15 at about 11am today and waited 3 hours till it was my turn. =.=” Ironically I was reading Veronika Decides to Die, and I was mesmerised by its ideals against conformity and other issues it managed to address in a novel dealing about death. On finishing it, its ideas were leaking out like raindrops through a hole in the roof and seeped through me – and I was imbued with a sense of strange reluctance to die. There were too many things left undone, left unsaid.

When I finally entered into the doctor’s room, my heart was beating fast because I thought I could be delivered a death sentence anytime. But her diagnosis was otherwise. =)

And I walked out never more alive.

Then as I entered my car and locked it shut, an odd-looking Chinese old man came knocking upon my window wtf and presuming him to be a salesman, I waved him away. Seeing his rather haggard pathetic look I took pity on him and unwound the window a bit as he shoved a piece of folded paper to me and started speaking in rapid Mandarin and asking me things like which shopping mall I go to more often etc.

He kept mentioning something about free stuffs, and I don’t need to pay a cent, all that bull and I still don’t understand wtf it is he wanted me to do until he asked me to tear open that folded paper. Then his face turned into a crooked joyful euphoria as he leapt with excitement – no joke – and exclaimed that I’ve won some RM3000 worth of electrical appliances..

Hahahaha what does he think I am, some very stupid, gullible, uneducated person ah, do I give off that kinda aura or what wtf.

You know it’s funny, I could’ve just spat at his face and say “fuck this shit” but even to a conman like him I was still smilingly telling him “不好意思，可是我真的不用 (bu hao yi si, ke shi wo zhen de bu yong) (I’m sorry/embarrassed? to say, but I really don’t need it)” repeatedly until he backed off (a tactic I learned from Roy, my collegemate, to ward off donation beggars).

And that twisted smiling face of his turned into something black haha. Funny I never thought of calling the cops there and then, but after nearly a week of this fog of false-alarm-death clouding me, I felt a little relieved, a little happier, secretly a little glad that I won’t be offed – not anytime soon.

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But to live for one more day..

...I first have to clamber out of this deep hole I seemed to have dug for myself.