I just had my econs test. Not too bad, not too good. I think it's just okay, considering the effort i put in. Had dinner with zee after the test at my all-time-favorite McDonald's. Hee, i always have cravings for McDonald's :) But then again, I shall refrain from eating burgers from now on hee.

The mid-sem break had finally ended. I don't remember accomplishing anything, but i think i am doing things this one week, just that they are endless, yea. Went to National Cancer Centre a couple of times. I am glad that i spent most times at the wards instead of the office in NCC, because i just have a greater sense of belonging for the wards. Weird, i know. Was digging out many case notes from different places, completing my DUE for my lymphoma patients etc etc.. and trying to hear what the nurses were talking about. In fact, it's depressing to work in an oncology ward you know. Oncology - CANCER. NCC is an outpatient cancer centre, but this oncology ward is an inpatient cancer ward, meaning the cancer patients are hospitalized there for long-term treatment, and the treatment could not be provided in an outpatient setting. It's a direct proportion to the severity of the cancer, in another word.

A lady kept calling. She couldn't accept the fact that her husband had just passed away.
She kept calling. Kept asking for second opinions from another doctor.
Suddenly, i felt like it was me. I was the lady. The feeling of denial, was so familiar.

So many struggles going on in my life these days.
I'm so thankful that God's grace is still evident to me, despite the many happenings in my life.

不 要 因 为 有 感 恩 的 事 而 感 恩 ， 而 是 感 恩 了 才 会 看 到 更 多 感 恩 的 事 。

Hello people! Wonder if anyone still comes by and take a look here. I haven't been blogging. It is just hard to have a blogging mood when there are many other stuffs waiting for you to settle.

Mid-sem break has just started.
It's killing me. But i know it's just a feeling.
Feeling and what really is, they are both DIFFERENT.
You get what i am talking about?
I guess i know, but no one else knows.
Feelings kill, but the facts don't.
That's it.

I went to swim at my sister's condo last night.
Did a steam bath after that.
Cool, and i liked it.
Will sneak into the condo more often this week for more swims.
Weather's hot, you should go swimming.
Running doesn't help anymore >_<

Going chemotherapy 3x/week.
Hope it works.
Hope i don't have to go more than 3 times.
But i don't mind traveling since it's break now.

Just one week break. If you think it's long, then you're wrong.
The methotrexate needs more than 1 week to understand.
The econs are difficult. I think i am going to fail the test on monday.
My tuition kids need help.
The swimming pool needs me as well.
Yet i feel bored.
I am almost done with HOUSE. It's depressing.
At least i don't like everything evolves around SEX.
Life still goes on without sex.
But it stops when there's no LOVE isn't it?
Something is wrong with the Americans.
They're too obsessed with physical interactions- SEX to be specific.
That's why they have the highest occurrence of sexually-transmitted disease. Gonorrhea, AIDs and infections on the genitals.

I really dislike Americans in this aspect.

Argh.. my mood is just bad.
Sorry if my post is absurd.

Suddenly I miss my parents so much.

You know, when I was a kid, when i got bullied in school, never once i would interpret that as 'bully'. But when i grew up, my mom told me that i was being ill-treated by friends when I was a kid. You know, parents just know what you've been going through, without you having to tell them. When I didn't see any ill-treatment, they would see it.

When I was a kid, I rarely ran to my parents complaining about things.
The only time I ran to them for help was when my brother was beating the shit out of me.
I watched movies when I was a kid.
Children run to their parents when they suffered/ encountered bad things.
I wonder how it feels like. Not that my parents didn't care about me, they care about me loads.
It's just me. I have not reached the extent that will make me want to cry in their arms, badly.

I so want to run to them and cry badly.

I so wanna run to my Father in Heaven and cry all my heart out.

Daddy in Heaven, please give me strength. No one understands what I've been going through but You do. You are the only help, my only help. So let me hear You.

Help me to have love in my heart even when i have to confront difficult and trying things.

God, I still want to give thanks to You, in all circumstances.

He Wants to Comfort You

My child’s feelings are hurt. I tell her she’s special. My child is injured. I do whatever it takes to make her feel better.

My child is afraid. I won’t go to sleep until she is secure.

I’m not a hero. I’m not a superstar. I’m not unusual. I’m a parent. When a child hurts, a parent does what comes naturally. He helps.

And after I help, I don’t charge a fee. I don’t ask for a favor in return. When my child cries, I don’t tell her to buck up, act tough, and keep a stiff upper lip. Nor do I consult a list and ask her why she is still scraping the same elbow or waking me up again.

I’m not a prophet, nor the son of one, but something tells me that in the whole scheme of things the tender moments described above are infinitely more valuable than anything I do in front of a computer screen or congregation. Something tells me that the moments of comfort I give my child are a small price to pay for the joy of someday seeing my daughter do for her daughter what her dad did for her.

Moments of comfort from a parent. As a father, I can tell you they are the sweetest moments in my day. They come naturally. They come willingly. They come joyfully.

If all of that is true, if I know that one of the privileges of fatherhood is to comfort a child, then why am I so reluctant to let my heavenly Father comfort me?

Why do I think he wouldn’t want to hear about my problems? (“They are puny compared to people starving in India.”)

Why do I think he is too busy for me? (“He’s got a whole universe to worry about.”)

Why do I think he’s tired of hearing the same old stuff?

Why do I think he groans when he sees me coming?

Why do I think he consults his list when I ask for forgiveness and asks, “Don’t you think you’re going to the well a few too many times on this one?”

Why do I think I have to speak a holy language around him that I don’t speak with anyone else?

Why do I not take him seriously when he questions, “If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” (Matthew 7:11)

Why don’t I let my Father do for me what I am more than willing to do for my own children?

I’m learning, though. Being a parent is better than a course on theology. Being a father is teaching me that when I am criticized, injured, or afraid, there is a Father who is ready to comfort me. There is a Father who will hold me until I’m better, help me until I can live with the hurt, and who won’t go to sleep when I’m afraid of waking up and seeing the dark.

Ever. And that’s enough

By Max Lucado
Adapted from:
The Applause of Heaven