Friday, 31 May 2013

Pepsi Twist instead of my all-time favourite Pepsi Max

I may say that it is the post-sickness syndrome.

11 hours straight of sleep and now I feel like doing everything I can get my hands to. Washing the clothes, having a great breakfast, cleaning the room, writing my blog.

I always experience this after I recover from painful sickness; a fever, or a severe headache. Amid the crazy workload in the office, it struck me of what my husband said - Perhaps this is the only way that I might finally have some rest.

And it worked. It had been quite a long time since I feel this energetic.

I was fasting yesterday, and the pounding headache started just after I went out from the subway into the office building. And it built up since; I felt as if I wanted to drill a hole into my head. I tried to sleep, but that only worked for an hour or two. After that, I found myself kneeling on the floor, looking down to avoid the lights, and crying, because I didn't know what else to do.

I vomited green at nearly 5 o'clock in the afternoon. I texted my husband; "I'm going to the clinic; I can't take it anymore."

It was a brief meeting with the doctor, she prescribed me Cefargot with a smile, telling me I should be okay by the morning. "Migraine? But I have never had it before," I conflicted, but she just said, "Well, it can develop." And showed me the way out.

Later when I told my husband that the doctor prescribed me Cefargot, he said the doctor was wrong. We knew better; it was the insane workload, the restless hours, the worries of due dates that drawn my body to sickness. And I guess we were right; I am now okay with only painkillers. I didn't take any Cefargot. I had a feeling that taking those pills will make me sick again, next time with an actual migraine.

I have always hated this clinic. The doctors seemed to be more like machines rather than doctors. I overheard a conversation between the clinic attendant and a foreigner. She should have had an appointment yesterday afternoon, but the clinic had to cancel it, so they called this lady to say so. Thing is, she wasn't able to pick up the call, and presumed that it was nothing so she continued to go to the clinic as planned.

She arrived at the clinic having the clinic TA telling her that the appointment had actually been cancelled. She was devastated and asked why didn't she be informed about it. The clinic TA claimed that they had actually called her to tell her about the cancellation.

"How many times did you call me? I have only one miscall. In my country, the clinic will call many times to make sure the patient is well informed."

The clinic TA fell silent. The lady then shook her head and went out.

Well, I dig her enough. But I wasn't really listening; my head was pounding too hard. At about 5.45 o'clock, my husband came to pick me home.

I wanted to eat beef porridge to break fast, so we went to look for one, much to my disappointment, though.

While my husband ordered chicken rice at a Chinese Muslim restaurant, I waited in the car, viewing the world passing through outside the car window. I looked, and wondered; why is it that most of the time I never get to eat what I actually wanted at the time? I really wanted to eat beef porridge, and I was fasting, AND I was not feeling well. I ought to get what I wanted, right? Is it too hard a request?

I was almost crying, when I realized,

Perhaps this is what Allah wants. Perhaps He wants to teach me that His wills are far better than my desires. Perhaps He wants me to align my desires to His wills.

Oh Allah, then, I will eat what You pleases me to eat. Whatever You have decided for me, they are all the best, because You always know better.

It was a teary realization, but it had put my heart at ease. And I cannot thank You enough, my Lord. Alhamdulillah.

Now, off for some clothes hanging business! :)