Tag Archives: hope

Diary, Journal, Life, Memoir, True-life Story

June 20, 2012 – Moment(A Diary)

Dear Diary,
I’m not so happy today. It happened again. I tried so hard to hold it but I couldn’t. Visitors are not allowed and the nurses are busy with God-knows-what. I hate it when that happens, it’s as if my body is no longer mine. Every parts of my body now have a mind of their own. They don’t mind me anymore….):

I have another surgery tomorrow and I am so scared. And yes I know I shouldn’t, it’s not as if it’s the first time or second or……ugh! I wish this would be the last; I know it won’t but a girl can at least wish…

Dear Diary, I wish I could write about everything that goes on in here. Every tears, every fears, every pains, every wishes…every one of them. but the discomfort won’t permit me. When I can, I can’t reach you; when I can reach you, I can’t write.
The Anaesthetist will soon be here to prep me.
Maybe I’ll take a short break till I’m much better. Or not, cos I can sense a lot of bad days ahead.
Wish me luck.

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Journal, Life, Memoir, Short Story, True-life Story

June 16, 2012 – Moment (A Diary)

Dear Diary,
I couldn’t write yesterday. It was my dressing day. The pain was really bad and stung for very long. The pain killer couldn’t kill it. I’m a bit relieved today, tomorrow is another day.
Today is my sister’s birthday and I’m happy. Though I can’t see her, I’m glad to be alive. Happy birthday to you, sis. May you have many more and may I witness many more 🙂
I sat for over ten minutes today. The doctor said I need to stay longer to avoid another episode of heartburn.
I am determined to and I will. I’m going to walk out of here and do everything I was too afraid to do.

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Diary, Journal, Memoir, Short Story, True-life Story

June 14, 2012

Dear Diary,
It’s really been a while. Should I say I missed you? I don’t know. I know I have not written anything in a while. Not just you, I could barely hold this pen. It keeps slipping off my fingers. Neither have I kept you since…..I can’t remember. So many things have happened since then.
Dear Diary, I am sitting up! Though not by myself but on my bum, for the first time in sixty five days. Can you believe that? I know it feels more like ply wood and flat like frying pan. But it feels so good and exhilarating, though painful and uncomfortable….to see something else apart from the white ceiling and cob webs, put faces to the voices of my neighbors for the past two months. That long? Yeah.
And they are happy to see mine too. I see their faces and injuries for the first time. It’s always being the screams and sympathies .
I sat for a whole of five minutes. The light of joy on my mother and sister’s face is enough motivation to want to try again in the evening or tomorrow. She looks so happy, when the doctor told her I could sit for a while. Oh how I have missed my mother’s blinding  dashing smile. She has aged over a decade in two months.
I have so many things to say to you, but I can’t now. Writing on my back is not so easy, maybe tomorrow.
Until then.

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