Dying Is Something People Don't Talk About

...except here at Tinki Talks. =p

You know, being sick and being under involuntary house arrest for 3 weeks is no easy feat. Cos your body's half dead but your brain's still working as per usual. And because no energy is being burnt doing anything other than everything useless, your brain gets all of it. And overworks itself to madness in the process of trying its best to expand all that pent-up energy before it blows itself up. :-/

Too much for you?
Well, there's more to come. =D

The first week after leaving the hospital, I pretty much hated everything about anything I could hate. I hated the fridge. I hated the stairs. I hated the air-conditioning. I hated the movement of the wind caused by the swirling fan blades. I hated the mosquitoes in the room. I hated the bed. I hated getting in and out of the bed. I hated sleeping on my back all the time. I hated the back aches I had. I hated how tired I always was. I hated how terrible I felt. I hated bath time. I hated the temperature of the water. I hated the heavy shower head. I hated not being able to actually enjoy my bath. I hated everything!


And then Week 2 arrived and I slowly started feeling a little better on the outside. My body was healing gradually and that was good. But by then, I was also bored out of my mind from all the stuck-at-home time I was dished! I discovered that feeling less than sick but far from perfect actually feels like hell. Really! Cos I would feel energised and well enough to go out for a little bit of fun... until I was actually out. I'd be totally zapped out in an hour! And that sucked cos going out was supposed to be fun! T_T


Then... surprise-surprise, I just had to be unfortunate enough to need last weekend's killer jab right into my second butt cheek. Right after that, all hell broke loose. I went right back into my Week 1 Mode of hating everything. I even hated the food cos it started making me want to puke my guts out. All I really wanted to do was sleep... and never wake up. And even then, it was a problem for me whenever the pain kicked in. But that was until last night. And now, I'm finally seeing that little pinhole of light coming through the clouds. =)

But because of alllll... that – phew! –
I've also begun feeling well enough to think.

*cue end of Introduction*

About dying.

See, when I was put under GA, I totally blacked out. Didn't know what happened or what hit me. All I knew was that when I woke up, everything was done. And all that happened when I didn't even know a second passed! So I started wondering that maybe – just maybe – dying under the knife could possibly be a blessing to the deceased instead of a curse! @_@

You think I'm crazy, I know.

But seriously... think about it!

You won't feel a thing cos you're put under. Your friends, family and loved ones are all there to send you off for the op with all the love in the world. You exchange kind words and smiles, then say your goodbyes with light kisses to the forehead. And more often than not, there's a prayer tucked somewhere in between all that for good measure. Don't you think that's a great way to go???


Plus, on a more personal level, going in for an operation is a pretty scary thing! (True story. Take it from the first-timer. :-/) So... you'll probably find yourself automatically praying and asking God for His forgiveness over EVERY single thing you've ever done to displease him. Haha. You pretty much face death with a clean slate! You can go in, and be ready to die. Prepared to go to sleep and never wake up after that needle hits the back of your left hand.

Heck, I think it's a great way to die!

If that said operation takes place

when I'm ready to go, of course.

Cos let's be real about this. It's no fun dying, like, just 2.5 months after you get married, right? *uncomfortable laughter* And it's not at all cool to die before really experiencing life. Like going through the joys (and pains) of motherhood! And seeing my kid off to pre-school! Or seeing my grandkids piss their parents off! Or travelling the world! And going to Venice! And Greece! And Switzerland! And Barcelona! Maybe even Japan! Or owning my own home! And decorating it just the way I want it to look! With a walk-in wardrobe included! And a pretty cabinet just for bags and shoes! You know what I mean??? It's just not cool to go before ALL this comes into play for me.

So, yes. I probably wouldn't mind dying on the operating table, high on general anesthetic (if I've gotten my last will and testament sorted out and it's not some emergency op where I don't get to really mentally, emotionally and spiritually prepare myself for the possibility of not waking up @_@ *gulp*). I mean, I'd totally rather that happened than some gruesome accident that smashed my face in or anything that involves prolonged suffering and a lifetime of hospital visits, injections, and blood taking. :-/

But that's just me.

How would you want to die? =)