Warning: Graphic (not really but oh well) pictures below and not suited for the faint-hearted.

I finally managed to change my blog template after struggling with it for the longest time.  Don’t be fooled by its simplicity, cos I just can’t seem to sort out the not-so-nice comment form, and it took me hours, and it still was going nowhere. And the font looks a tad too small on my notebook,

Did some changes here and there, and all in all, a refreshing change.

A weekend that ended too soon, without much fanfare, and these days I find Sundays evil-er than Mondays. I am already looking forward to the weekend with a busy week panning out for me. I thought I was freed last week after the dreadful presentation, but no difference leh!

Anyway.

The episode of the unfortunate finger!

3 weeks after the fateful dive, the pain was getting worse though a long course of antibiotics made the swelling went away.

My finger couldn’t move without hurting, and even just lifting my arm up would trigger a shooting pain.

As usual, most discounted it as a simple, girlie whine.

Hmphf.

So, after getting a “2nd opinion”, it was suggested that I get an x-ray done. Initially I rejected the idea totally thinking it was too over the top (okay, fine, I was also terribly resentment of the idea that my finger would be cut open), and it was suggested that it was highly unlikely there would be anything showing up.

So…. what had supposed to be a quick drop-in during lunch time, showed exactly what was wrong.

Enlarge the X-ray film and you could see a foreign object on the left side next to the bone.

After a fast and furious referral letter, I was at SGH A & E waiting to see a hand surgeon.

First, they tested my fingers’ response with a needle and the masked lady asked, “Can you feel it?” I felt the prick and said yes, but I think because I didn’t yelp girlie-ly, she poked again, harder this time until it bled and I looked at her bewildered-ly and answered a louder yes.

I think I should have screamed like a girl when she pricked as hard for the rest of the fingers.

Then, they gave me a jab when I was on the phone with a business call. Because I didn’t yelp, the needle went in all the way and I could feel the sour pain in my bone.

Lesson learnt. Yelp and scream next time when someone prick you. They just wanna see you hurt.

In the room, there was a patch of blood on the floor with a piece of discarded tissue. Tsk tsk. If I didn’t know better, I would think I was visiting some quack.

The hand surgeon saw me next (seen below talking on the phone to my 2nd opinion) and she was coincidentally common friends to those whom I went diving with. In the beginning I was jittery, and I started joking with the nurses when I went into the OT.

And I was morbidly so curious that I asked the doctor for permission to take pictures while she worked on my hand.

I thought I might faint, but I was getting more curious and started to half sit up to see her inject local into my finger (yes, I got pricked again), she then tied a rubber band round the base of my finger (hahaha, it reminded me of how a cock ring works! Uhm, not that I use one before…) before she cut it open with a sharp scapel.

My finger looks look, red, flushed with blood, hard, and swollen as it stood rigidly under the lights.

She turned back to refer to the X-ray behind her to try to locate the splinter. Her grim words were, “If I can’t find it, you have to be admitted and we need the X-ray machine to locate it.”

Well, knowing how before that I had ticked off the boxes of all the “worst case scenerios” suggested to me with regards to my finger, I was thinking if I had to leave my cut gapping for the convenience of it.

She then commented coolly that some of the flesh around the wound is infected and the bad tissues needed to be scrapped off, briefly mentioning if it wasn’t done cleanly, I might have to go back to scrap it again. Yes, with the finger split open again.

And then she pulled out this white rubberband lookalike thingy out of the cut, showing me. She even gamely stretched my cut to show the white band as I took a picture.

Apparently the 1mm thick rubberband is my nerve. What nerves! And it was pierced. right through in the centre.

I don’t know to laugh or cry. It pierced the 1mm nerve (thankfully, the minor nerve), when it is 1mm.. of all places, you can pierce a nerve!!! Got more accurate or not?

And secondly. It is 1mm. And it didn’t snap?!?! It was like those worn rubberband, stretched thinly at the site it was pierced.

A nerve injury takes half a year to heal, and that also explains the shooting pain.

Fortunately the evil thing that lodged itself in my finger was located and plucked out like a thorn (Bottom row, 2nd from right).

No one could figure out what it was. Nemo’s toothpick? A coral’s thorn? Some fish bit me and I brought its tooth home? Idon’t know!!

It isn’t smooth and looks like a tip of the toothpick, but how is it possible to have a toothpick at that depth?!

Roarrrr!

But after having my finger wrapped up like a popsicle, it was a week plus before it was healed and I had help to get the stitches out (tried doing it myself but I guess I could have chop my finger off unwittingly with an “Ooooooops”).

My index finger is still weaker than other fingers and with all the bad flesh dug out, I thought it would do what liposuction meant to do, but it doesn’t seem to look any slimmer.

The long course of antibiotics also brought forth other ailments, and since then I seemed to develop an allergy to alcohol. Tsk tsk, maybe the kick-off will make me “test water” again to see if the allergy is here to stay for good.

It has been 2 weeks plus since THE night. The Sheng Siong night.

And then it came back to haunt again, sending shudders, after shudders.

And then, hey, the fear is still there, and I am still frightened. Clammy fingers as I type…

I don’t know what I am more afraid of.

Maybe of what is ahead.

Or maybe of what I had gotten myself into.

I see the smiles I couldn’t match, I shook hands without comprehending, I watched faces I couldn’t read, I halted words I couldn’t speak.

Slow down people, what are you guys talking about? Oh. I see. Uhm, hmm, uh… then the words faded away. You know, the same ol’ same ol’, easily dealt with with a simple raise of the corners of the mouth, and a nod.

I tried asking for help to decipher the surreal 2 weeks plus I survived, but then my chowchow snubbed me as it was more interested in being drooled on.

Eh? Oh, like that ah?

Okay then.

Done deal.

Girl, I love your tatt.

It says best.

And this too, shall pass.

The weekend is concluding on a surprisingly peaceful note, probably because of all that had happened in the past 2 days that have left me shaken (and very stirred), scared, and very frightened.

***

It was a nice Friday.

A nice, hearty lunch at Holland Village with a great massage thrown in for the bad back.

I giggled in response to his views on monogamy, and how he justified it was a concept brewed out of selfishness of mankind.

He believes in many.

I believe in open honesty.

A lift to NUS for a pretty long meeting, before I made my way back to town.

***

I thought it was an evening to remember.

Of someone losing it.

Of someone not taking a consistent no for an answer.

Weeks of anger, rage, hurt, and dramas/mindgames I have no wish to be part of, pushed me to be real firm with the decision.

Of threats and aggression.

Our drinks companion was caught in the awkward position when I shot him pleading looks for help, and then he would be met with dagger stares and aggression to warn him to stay out of it.

My phone was snatched, and numbers taken down.

I was “abducted” and dragged from the cab stand into the hotel so I wouldn’t go anywhere.  I was supposed to meet Mum and Minibean at the hospital to visit my dad.

I am so detached from the episode that I could make it like a joke that I was somehow kidnapped and fed with beef burger, steak and cheese platter in the room and my attempts to head anywhere would be met by a sturdy arm around my tummy, and got myself lifted from the ground, even if it was in public’s eyes.

My phone was robbed initially.

Then the door was blocked.

It pissed me off so much more, and more determined.

A part of me has died, and I am not sure if it will ever get revived again.

I left, eventually, but the night concluded with defiance clashing defiance in the face. It was a miracle that the cab window didn’t shatter from all those sharpness.

***

Was out on Saturday until I was asked to join for dinner.

Was reluctant but the companion with us the day before was pretty jovial about it all and that he would protect me.

Of seafood, and sea breeze, and sitting there listening to conversations and all. Spoke about work and all, before 3 hours passed.

Nothing prepared me for the long night ahead.

***

It was perhaps by grace of God, that everything went okay.

Though the image of that moment will perhaps etch in my mind, deeply, for the rest of my life.

If you think my life has been dramatic, nothing beats last night, almost a drama-series worthy scene. But it was real.

My palms get sweaty, my eyes get teary, and I feel the drop in my heart just by recalling the episode.

I don’t even dare to think between the chances of 50-50, what would have happened otherwise.

I don’t know where my strength came from, I don’t know how I managed to react, I don’t know how I managed to pull through the longest 2 seconds in my life, and the subsequent 20 minutes in between hyperventilating (teehee, I need to ventilate on this, Prontip) and pulling together my entire shaken being.

I saw it. My mind slow-framed every single moment though it was such a blur. A buzz, really.

I had nightmares of various images from last night put together.

And with that, sometimes in life, there are certain factors and catalysts that will push us to make a decision out of character. Like last night.

And then, I did. I am not even sure of it myself. I know the challenges ahead. I am not even sure if it is the “worst decision of my life” and what have I gotten myself into.

Cos seriously, everything is such a blur, so surreal that I have detached myself from my reality today, just so I could… have some much needed peace.

I am apprehensive of what the future holds, I really am, but for now, the anchor, needs some anchoring too.

Isn’t it surprising how things could suddenly take such a sudden change?

***

I need to solve my bandwidth problems. I was locked out of it again today and many things I wanna write kinda osmosis out already of my mind already by the time I wanna blog.

***

Nobody is trying to play a game here anymore. The last post was about someone whom I thought was close to us once, and someone who once understood, and someone who had seen us girls through all the misery and felt protective over us, but then…. oh well. Unfortunately, it was misconstrued by people who took it personally.

It isn’t a competition, and should never be.

***

Before I knew it, the new week is here.

Dad is supposed to discharge yesterday after his headache problem was solved, then he had a pee problem so it was supposed to be today, and then another problem cropped up today and he could only be discharged tomorrow.

He has been hospitalised for 5 days already.

I can’t wait for him to get home.

Everyone loves a good piece of drama.

I think it is good I have a phantom writer for what I could not find energy within me to write so. It is way too draining for me…

So, the big, big, revelation, shall come in parts.

I will add in comments and let Fiona tell you the story.

Check comments for the debunking of myths.

I am just too tired. Way too so.

A threat came in with the revelations, and I have to lock it up. Not the cowardy way I want to do so, but I believe the sudden jump in the statistic did mean news travel fast enough for quite  a number of people read it or bloglines did its job pretty well.

Nonetheless, if you want to read it, feel free to email me at joewei.ting at gmail dot com for the password.

By no means am I ashamed of what I wrote, and it is one of my flaws and my past. I am muted now, and slightly annoyed.

My colleague told me I should just abandon this space with the post, and he can always help me to rebuild my life.

I think that was the sweetest thing said to me today.

Of course, all of you others who read it and responded. Much appreciated.