“I’m a sick person. No, not all the time, just today, last night and the couple of days before that. It’s this pain here inside, deep in my abdomen that just won’t budge. Doctor, is there nothing you can do?” Okay, maybe that line was laced with a little too much melodrama, but still, the situation was all real. I have no idea what caused it, now that my mom (M.D.) says it was not due to eating too much shrimp. It comes and goes, but strikes at its worst in the middle of the night. It’s possibly my digestive system hitting back at me for conforming to normal sleeping/waking times. It’s true, I’m sleeping normally again, but my body is still shunning the norm. I’ve been told it’s a “colloquy” pain or another word that sounds like that; a pain that comes and goes. Does a colloquy pain interfere with one’s ability to converse? (check the dictionary) Answer: yes it does.

Both my parents are medical doctors. Yes, both of them, and I guess the only individuals who know my pain are those who also have “doctor parents.” True, we were always looked after… but ever so relentlessly. When I was younger, kids my age would look in their diary in the morning and realise they have a test in maths class. After this realisation, they would clutch their abdomen with one hand and their forehead with the other and tell mom and dad they’re not feeling well. They’d be told to go back to bed by caring mom and dad, while their GP (General Practitioner) was called to make a home visit to check up on much loved son/daughter. By the time the GP arrived, the aches would have cleared up and the maths test would be over (and hopefully the school day too). Okay, zoom back in on me… I would never have been successful. One morning I woke up feeling a little ill, but well enough to go into school. However, I really did not feel like going in so I over-exaggerated the intensity of my pain. My mom checked my stomach and my head, reached into the medicine cabinet, made me slurp down several teaspoons of medicine, packed a few pills and told me to get changed into my school uniform and hurry or else I’d be late. It was from this early age that I realised there was no escaping, no faking illness. Ever.

I’m now feeling much better compared with the middle of last night where I was curled up like a fetus, with my hands over my stomach. It’s times like this now that I am so appreciative of good health. Now I’ve got my health back. Now I feel alive again. Hmmm, time to eat… and I know what I want. I love meat, meat is life… but somedays I just crave cheese. One cheese sarnie with all the trimmings, coming up. Oh, before I forget… have a pinch and a punch for the first day of the month.