I’ve always had a history of stomach problems. For a time, we always dismissed it as a chronic constipation due to my lack of interest in anything green and fiber-y, unless it was actual dollar bills. There were times I would be rushed to the emergency room of which I was discharged after a few hours. One time during a trip in Malaysia, an ambulance had to pick me up from the hotel – something to cross out the bucket list, I guess. Whatever my stomach pain was, which eventually would end up me sweating bullets, pale skin and cold to the touch, vomiting, and tired, as soon as the episode has passed, I would crawl into bed and forget everything about it and continue with my routine.
Bad irresponsible patient.
I’ve neglected it and didn’t raise the flag whatsoever not until in 2007 when the pain was different, terribly unbearable and I had to return to the bathroom more than three times. I vomited so much that all I could spew was just bile and water that I just drank. I knew something was off and we had to run to the emergency room again. I was brought to the small timid hospital called Malvar Hospital along Commonwealth Avenue. Like any government owned hospital in the Philippines, the building was old, patients looked really bad, it looked under manned and the only thing you see new is the consumables. It was scary but when in pain, all that mattered to you was someone to tend to you right away. It was there when the over 35-year-old emergency room surgeon suspected I had something more than what seems to be constipation. The lack of full response expected after jabbing two syringes of painkillers into my arm meant something more. I was quickly scanned and lo and behold, I had gallstones.
Though he wanted to operate on me immediately, we opted not to do it right away because we were unprepared for it – not only financially but emotionally and mentally. We didn’t know what gallstones were, we were unsure how the operation is going to be done, and hell we didn’t know what’s next after that.
Over the weekend, I was walking along Bras Basah heading to Baja Fresh for a good serving of burrito for dinner. Along the way, I came across the Singapore Art Museum (SAM) which is a must visit in Singapore in my opinion. Before the building is a small plot of land where SAM strategically used to display the featured artist. Last time, it was a huge bunny, named Walter. So I wondered what it is this time?
And I saw this:
I think my jaw dropped when I saw it and realized what it was. At first, it didn’t occur to me what it was but then I stopped and thought:
One time, I drove my mother to Banco De Oro (BDO) bank in Tandang Sora. Together with her friend and my friend, we hanged out in the car and waited for the “boss” to be done. Chatting for a couple of minutes a man was about to walk past us and what followed him caught my eye. His smoking buddy!
I have been a netizen for such a long time that I have gone through a lot of handle names, nick names, or simply called aliases, that I have easily identified which friend came from which website, game or chat service I’ve met them. So many but none as prominent as Fivefeetflat.com, a byproduct of my blogging days since 2002, my activeness in promoting my web portfolio and the fondness of my wit and humor on how short I really was.
In a sense, you can say it is the majority of my soul in the Internet world.
The domain has practically witnessed so much of how I grew into the person that I am (if I had practically saved all logs since 2002). Gosh, just thinking of it. Over 10 years have this domain been mine and mine alone and yet soon this will be owned by probably some Chinese, Russian, or Japanese spammers or maybe no one or maybe another short person.
Perfect love is rare indeed – for to be a lover will require that you continually have the subtlety of the very wise, the flexibility of the child, the sensitivity of the artist, the understanding of the philosopher, the acceptance of the saint, the tolerance of the scholar and the fortitude of the certain.