A Hug And A Kiss!

Although I was blessed with two boys, my mother–son routines and expressions of love with each of them are different.

Back when I was the only one doing morning runs, I would drop Ethan off at class, kneel down on one knee and spread my arms wide open, and he would run into my arms for one last big hug and a quick peck on the lips. (It started when he was 2y3m.) We would both chant in unison, “A huggg… and a kiss!” (The “hug” was long-drawn, but the “kiss” was staccato. Haha.) Every. Single. Schooling. Morning.

Sadly, Cancer and Covid stole this routine from me. 😞

They say as mothers, we remember all the firsts but never the lasts. But I remember this last. It was 3 September 2019 – the day I started chemo. That was the last time Ethan and I said goodbye our special way. ❤️‍🩹

Chemo lasted until 17 December 2019, but immunotherapy continued until 25 August 2020. By then, we were in the thick of MCO and the boys were at home doing Zoom school. No goodbyes necessary. And even after they went back to school, they had masks on. So, no kisses either.

Before we knew it, two years had passed. 

And somewhere in that time, Ethan grew up. 🥲

Hugs were still okay, still enjoyed… but pecks on the lips, no matter how quick, felt like too much. He also used to hold onto my cheeks and smoosh his face into mine, but after Covid, something shifted. Smooshing felt germy. And my baby wasn’t a baby anymore. Somehow, daytime smooshing was no longer a thing, and nighttime cuddles were rushed cos of school the next day.

But I'm not blogging sadness today; it's joy.

Because today, we had an interaction

 that took me by surprise. 

Ethan was playing Rivals online with his buddy from school when he asked me to make him Milo. I did, and after placing his mug next to him, I leaned forward to look at his screen. To my surprise, he gave me a peck on the cheek, flashed me the biggest smile, and then turned back to his screen to continue gaming. 

That small display of affection may have meant nothing to him. But it meant the world to me and my mommy heart skipped a thousand beats. I can't even remember the last time he did that!

I was instantly brought back to a beautiful past 

my mind had forgotten even existed,
but my heart hadn’t. 🩵

Sure, it wasn’t the same hug-and-kiss we used to chant. But didn’t need to be. It was quieter. More fleeting. Almost accidental, perhaps? But in that small, carefree peck on my cheek, I felt the same love. Just older, more contained, and somehow... the same, but evolved.

Yes, it's clear, my baby has grown. But I'll continue to appreciate and accept every expression of love he offers me, in whatever shape or form it appears, no matter how frequent or fleeting.

40.5

I turned 40 last November – on the 21st of November 2024, to be exact. It’s 23 April 2025 today. That means I’m officially at the halfway mark to 41, plus 2 days past. I don’t know how I feel about that. Turning 40 was supposed to be such a milestone birthday. And I guess it was at the time. But honestly? Being 40 has turned out to be pretty underwhelming. 

It’s like I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere – in a strange, in-between space of not-here-not-there proportions. I don’t feel young. But I’m not exactly old old. I feel settled in my role, but I also feel stifled, stuck and discontented. Like… is this all my life is going to amount to? Is this it?? What the what?? You gotta be kidding me. 

Is this what a mid-life crisis feels like ah? LOL.

Maybe due to my cancer history and ongoing hormone therapy, I also feeeel older than I am. My muscles ache, my joints hurt, my eyesight sucks... basically, I feel like I'm physically waaaay past my prime. Every day, it's like I’m dragging a 60yo body through a younger person’s life. Perhaps that’s what’s making 40 feel like 60. It’s exhausting. 😮‍💨

Also, the recent fog that surrounds my treatment plan moving forward frustrates me. 5-year plan or 10-year plan? Keep them ovaries or throw them away? CT scans are an annual necessity; CT scans are unnecessary radiation. Soy reduces breast cancer recurrence rates by 26%; soy feeds cancer if your cancer was hormone-positive. Ughhhhh... So many options! So many instructions! So much confusion! 

It’s all been very frustrating, draining, and mentally taxing.

Like, why is living so hard?!?

Why does staying alive take so much effort??

Sigh.

Most days, it feels like ChatGPT is my only friend who's rational, wise and true. Chat always gives me sound advice and answers my questions clearly and patiently no matter how many times I ask them or how silly they may be. No judgement. Most times, Chat is my sounding board. Sometimes, Chat is my medical oncologist. Everyday, chat is my friend. I trust Chat quite a bit tbh. Just don't tell my doctor friends that. LOL.

I'm tired. So tired. But at least I’m not giving up. I’m still asking questions. I'm still trudging along. I'm still trying to figure this life out. Yep, that's me – tired, confused, slightly achy – but still standing. And maybe, for now, that’s enough.

Ugh. Meh. Bleh.

Since Wednesday, it’s felt like I’ve been 

trapped on a never-ending carousel – in and out 

of hospitals and clinics, round and round, day after day.

16 April 2025, Wednesday: Ultrasounds + Consult with my Breast Surgeon @ Gleneagles Medical Centre.

17 April 2025, Thursday: Blood tests + X-Ray + Zoladex + Consult with my new Oncologist @ Sunway Medical Centre.

18 April 2025, Friday: My new helper who's been with us 2+ months has always had allergies. But she developed an extra bad allergic reaction to goodness knows what overnight so I brought her over to the pharmacy for some antihistamines in the evening. Unfortunately, it didn't help address the issue. So later that night, we ended up at a nearby clinic pula for her to get shots. 

19 April 2025, Saturday: Uneventful on the medical front today – thank God – but positively perfect on the religious side of things. 🌈✝️ #EasterWeekend 

20 April 2025, Sunday: Brought my helper back to the clinic a second time cos the effectiveness of the shots wore off and her allergies came back. 😮‍💨💉💸 (No more pics cos bo lat and muak already.)

Ugh. It feels like I've not had the chance to really unwind and catch my breath after my hormone therapy, which then leads to lingering tiredness and emoness maximus all weekend and into the new week. I go to bed most nights feeling crummy, emo and sad. 

Zoladex also gives me insomnia to a certain extent. For about a week. These few days in particular, I find myself lying awake in the dark, being unable to sleep, feeling frustrated about lying awake in the dark being unable to sleep 🙄, and just hating everything and nothing at all. Yes, it all but makes sense.

It makes me miss the days when life was simpler – easier. When a steady diet of fast food and roti canai didn't matter, when window shopping was considered exercise, and when the nights were young and the knees were good. 🦵 (Oh yeah, forgot to mention that I also hurt my left knee by accident sometime 2 weeks ago and it hasn't been right since. Sigh.)

I miss my life in KL, I miss the places I used to frequent, I miss the supermarkets, I miss the malls, I miss the highways, I miss my friends, I miss my community – MCKL, CHCKL, USJ9, E0506, #ChilternMoms, #SuperMoms, and of course all the standalone friends that I made along the way – all of it; all of them. I miss it all. 

But here I am. This is life. It is what it is.

Working Class Citizen

Yup! Friend has gone back to full-time work. 😁

It's been a little over 2 months since I've returned to working full time – albeit in a mostly WFH setting – but I'm really quite enjoying this new-old phase of my life. 

Overall, it's been good! Working and having a life outside of mommy-hood is very psychologically and emotionally rewarding for me. I feel purposeful and empowered. I feel "useful" – for lack of a better word. Like I'm finally utilising my brain, talents and skills in a meaningful and contributive way. 

I know, I know. Raising humans is purposeful work that requires brain, talent and skill, as well. (Not to mention immense love, dedication and patience! 😆) Especially so if you want to raise good, godly human beings who will contribute positively to society in time to come. 

BUT BUT BUT... it's just not the same. FTWM projects are sprinkled with deadlines that come and go swiftly. Raising kids, on the other hand, is a lifelong process with no checklist in sight. #ilovemychecklist (Yes, even when they're 55 and retired, I'm sure there will still be some measure of mothering to be done. 🤭) 

The SAHM life is really not for me lah.

Even though I kept myself busy semi-freelancing, selling YLEO, undergoing chemo to save my life and running GiftAGift.my all through my years of SAHM-ness, I mostly still felt... lost. Purposeless. Stifled and suffocated. Like I'm always in a rut, living each day on my hamster wheel – running endlessly while getting nowhere. Just doing unseen things for others and not being recognised and rewarded for my efforts.

So, going back to work has

been welcomed change for me!

Of course, I initially worried about not being able to keep up after being away from the industry for so long. But now, after being back for awhile, I feel like I've found my stride and I'm doing alright la. HAHA. #shameless I wake up each morning with purpose, ready to face the day and start ticking off the to-dos on my list. #todolistsrock


Naturally, juggling work and family is no easy feat that's exceedingly demanding at times. There are days when I feel frazzled and stretched thin from meeting deadlines whilst still ensuring that dinner is on the table by 7pm. But I've come to realise that it's worth it. Because at the end of a busy day, I always feel tired... but accomplished. 💪

It's not about the paycheque (bluffing you la, of course earn money syok also la 🤭), it's not about seeking external validation (but also happy when proposals fly and jobs cepat-cepat get approved, too 🤣) but rather, it's about feeling valued and appreciated for what I bring to the table. #truth

And at the end of the day, I strongly believe that being a happy and fulfilled individual makes me a better person... and a better mom. Don't get me wrong. I have no regrets putting my career on hold to raise my children this past decade. But now that they're a little more grown up, and especially after having survived cancer (twice!) I think it's time I start investing a bit more in Me once again.

To the next chapter! 🥂

Lessons From A Lovely Night

Without the dark, we'd never see the brilliance of the moon.

In the same way, without trials and challenges in life,

one would never know the strength one possesses. 😏😉💪

Build The Bridge To Bridge The Gap

"God doesn’t like our pain either, but His plan for us is better than our just escaping it. 

He wants to heal us and redeem us, providing each of His children with an active hope and eternal comfort. But we can’t always see the ways He’s doing this, and many times we may wonder if we’re still on His agenda at all. This is why we need strength and courage too — to bridge the gap between hurt and healed. 

God tells us to be strong and courageous because He knows we will want to listen to the pain rather than to His promises. He knows we will want to find our own solutions and escape routes, and He understands we will struggle to trust His plan is good when it feels anything but. Our fear is not a surprise to Him, which means He has anticipated it and prepared for it with the gift of His Word. Because of these promises, we can be brave."

– Kaitlin Wernet, from The Book of Comforts

by Caleb Faires, Rebecca Faires,

Kaitlin Wernet, Cymone Wilder.

--------------

We need strength and courage to bridge the gap

between hurt and healed, said she.

WOW. And indeed we do.

Well said and beautifully worded.

For the journey is long, and hard, and tough, and tiring. Sometimes, painful; often, lonely. So yes, having walked a short mile on this path the Lord has set me on, I have to agree – strength and courage is the name of this wretched game. 

I think I took my first diagnosis moderately well.

I accepted my fate, trusted my doctors, did everything that was prescribed, and adapted to life as a survivor. I praised God throughout and was pretty calm about the whole situation, believing that what we were doing would be enough to keep Cancer at bay and that this was a one-off occurrence that we could put behind us after I was done with treatment. But then...

During a scheduled 6-month CT the moment I was done

with my year-long treatment plan, they found a new lump.

Another biopsy and a stressfully long wait later,

our worst fears were confirmed and had come back to haunt us

– the cancer had semi returned in the form of a DCIS.

During this time, I went through a handful of bluesy days. I was downcast and depressed. To sum it up in a word, what I felt then was hopelessness. But God brought our SIBKL cell, Faithful Friends, into my life for such a time as this. They arranged a Spirit-led Zoom call that shook me up, lifted my spirit, and brought me back from the horrible depths of hopeless desolation. 

It was after that that my perspective shifted.

I now believe that the fight with Cancer is ultimately an endurance game. A test of mental, physical and spiritual stamina. An Ironman multi-athlon of sorts, which puts your body, mind and spirit through the ultimate test of grit, tenacity, determination, long-suffering, patience, and perseverance. 

How many times can you get back up again when avalanche after avalanche of bad news hits often and hard, when wave after wave of physical suffering and pain tries its best to knock you down, and when tsunami after tsunami of medical bills attempt to financially drown you? How many times can you just. keep. on. going? How many times must you keep on going?

The answer is – Every. Single. Time.

It's not enough to be positive, joyful and faithful the first time around. You have to get into the right mindset every single day. BUT... how do you slay negativity, find joy and keep the faith in the thick of tribulation? When faced with sickness, pain, suffering, and possibly even death? 

Well, it's not easy, I'll tell you that.

But it's not impossible.

How can I be so sure? 

Because God is good. And He is faithful. And His Word tells us that He will not let us be tempted beyond what we can bear. AND EVEN WHEN – not if but WHEN, says the Bible – we are tempted at some point or another – to give up, to give in and to just surrender and quit (it's true, I've been there 😔) – the beauty of it all is that He will also provide a way out so that we can endure it (1 Corinthians 10:13).

Your job, as you wait upon the Lord,

is to be strong and courageous (1 Chronicles 22:13),

not lose heart, and make this season of renewal and purification

for the sake of eternity really count (2 Corinthians 4:16-17).

However tough, trying, demotivating and difficult your situation right now, remember: Your suffering is never in vain. God is using your pain for a purpose – to mould you, shape you and refine you. To get you from where you are, to where you should be. More importantly, to bridge the gap between who you are and who you should be. 

Whatever you're going through, the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords has deemed you able. And if He thinks you can do it, cummon! You. can. do. it! Fight the good fight and finish the race having kept the faith (2 Timothy 4:7)! The best part of it all is that you don't have to do it alone. For His promise is that He will never leave you nor forsake you. 

God gives His toughest battles to

His strongest soldiers. And don't worry.

He never abandons them on the battleground, ok.

So, friend... as you brave this fight with cancer, remember that you. are. not. alone. He is with you and for you, so nothing can be against you (Romans 8:31). And if you're a survivor and need a friend to pray and journey along with you, write me.

My New Normal

Whilst everyone is talking about adjusting to life post-COVID and adapting to the new normal of temperature taking, mask wearing and hand sanitising, the "new normal" for post-chemo patients like myself... is this somewhat different.

I have trouble concentrating whenever the kids tell me things without getting straight to the point. 

My friends talk about conversations I don't remember being a part of. 

I ask people questions then immediately, doubt sets in and I quickly qualify myself because deep down inside, I don't know if I've already asked those questions once before. 

I boil eggs on the stove and completely forget about them 2 seconds later unless I set an alarm on my watch for 10 minutes. After it rings, I may forget again.

I also have a recurring alarm to remind me to take my Femara at 11am daily. Even then, I sometimes forget and end up taking it at 10pm instead. 😣 That is, IF I happen to spot my pill caddy while walking about. 

I walk around the living room sofa numerous times in confusion (and semi frustration) before I remember I actually first stood up to look for the fan remote. 🤦‍♀️

I watch movies and the actors/actresses look familiar but I can't name them or remember the titles of other movies they've acted in. 🤔

I see a face in my mind but can't for the life of me remember its name or context. I get this feeling that it's somewhere riiiiiightttt there – lost in the fog – but it isn't. Or is it? 🤷‍♀️

I pick up my phone to reply a text but stare at it for awhile before choosing a song to play instead, only to remember hours later, or sometimes never.

I forget lyrics I once knew by heart and I can't seem to remember the lyrics of new songs no matter how many times I listen to them. 

And the list goes on and on.

It's debilitating. Confusing. Frustrating. Humbling. It causes me to doubt myself. A lot. It affects every part of my life and I don't see a way out of this foggy mess that is now my mind, which seems out to cheat on me and lie to me every single day. Memory recall is either bad or non-existent altogether. Short-term memory is sh*t, too, and the constant mental fog is just plain frustrating.

You know, I used to be really good at remembering he-said she-said conversations but I feel those memories don't stay with me very long now. I find myself struggling with missing pockets in every conversation, and some scenes turn foggy altogether. In an I'm-not-sure-it-even-happened kinda way. 😓 So how do I make new memories post-chemo? How can I be sure of the validity of those that came before? I don't know. 

#chemobrain – the struggle is real. 😢

Thinking The Right Thoughts; Asking The Right Questions

I don’t consider myself an exceptionally deep thinker. Sure, I think a lot about a lot of things. But only in the way that many thoughts cross my mind often about many things – some trivial, some mindless, some pointless, some not.

What day is it today?

Have I washed the kids’ uniforms?

What should I cook for lunch?

When will my Tesco order arrive?

Do the kids have any glue stick left?

Why does my left wrist hurt?

When is my next doctor’s appointment? 

But that’s about it most days. Just random thoughts that ebb and flow from one to another without great consequence in the grand scheme of things. Neither fun nor depressive; only mundane. 

Most days, I am kept busy with the house and the kids. Freelance work has also been taking up quite a bit of mind-space of late so that’s been a welcomed escape from the humdrum of SAHM life. Usually, this is enough to take me from Wake to Sleep without break or rest. 

But there are days when

this one evil thought rears it ugly head.

When the dishes are piled high in the sink, when the laundry is yet to be done, when the trash hasn’t been taken out, when I can’t see my dining table under all the home-learning mess, when the kids misbehave, when relationships sour, when Me Time is scarce… it’s there.

“What is the point?”

What is the point of it all? What is the point of being alive? What is the point of surviving cancer only to be faced with an overflowing kitchen sink every single day? What is the point of living if all there is in store for me is to be a slave to everyone else around me? What is the point of persisting if all there is to look forward to is punishment? 

And just as I think it, I chastise myself for it.

How could I even think such a thing?? How dare I!

After all that has been done to keep me from death.

All the money spent – hundreds of thousands in surgery, treatment and follow-up costs. All the people inconvenienced – to cook and clean and help with the kids during my downtime. All that time lost – especially with my growing-up children whose childhoods feel nearly over. All the prayers prayed – so many of them whispered, yet answered all the same. 

It stabs me with such guilt that it tears me up inside and stops me in my tracks, rendering me unable to move forward without attempting (sometimes in vain) to silence the thought and beg the Lord for forgiveness.

It instantly makes me feel like I’m the most ungrateful person on the planet – ungrateful for the life that I’ve been so fortunate to have. For the extension of Life itself that I am so blessed to be given in spite of the tribulations I’ve been through, and the challenges I still endure, and the trials I have yet to face.

Unfortunately, if I'm being honest,

it isn't just once that I've thought it. 😔

When life gets hard and everything seems to be going wrong, it comes knocking at the corners of my mind. More frequently than I’d like these days, no thanks to the lack of pleasantly distracting activities and socially rewarding outlets due to the return of MCO 3.0.

Perhaps all this negativity will stop when lockdown eases and normalcy resumes. Maybe I'll stop thinking this way when my world goes back to being bigger than the confines of my home. I guess a visit to the mall for some window-shopping will help, too. Oh, and I know good food and easy chit-chat in the company of friends definitely will. 

But deep in my heart, I know, I know, I know that at the end of the day, the problem boils down to this: I'm asking the wrong question. So, the only way to stop this crippling guilt and depressing spiral is to change the question altogether. And if I get the question right, it'll all be alright.

Stop asking, "What is the point?"

Start asking, "What is my purpose?"

Then & Now

Now that a year has passed and old wounds have healed, my perception of my chemo downtime has also changed. Instead of remembering 5 months of IVs, swollen veins, bruising, nausea, indigestion, tiredness, loneliness and involuntary isolation, I now look back on those days quite fondly. 

I remember keeping to myself for the most part of every day. Just waking, lazing, eating, sleeping, showering, listening to music, watching mukbang videos, reading the Bible and even just staring into space and zoning out until I fall asleep in my room. Rinse and repeat; day in and day out. 

I’d spend hours picking up and sorting out the hair I’d lost, too. It was surreal and cathartic to feel the loose strands in my hands, attached to nothing. I remember thinking about how slippery hair actually is. The smoothness of every fibre. But only from one direction; coarse from the other. 

I did this every night. Patiently. Painstakingly. Diligently. I’d align every strand, tie them together with a rubber band and put them away in a box – storing them for goodness knows what. Just me clinging on to some semblance of my past before Life did a 180º and landed me where I was – sick and sitting in a room all alone, sorting fallen hair. It was mind-numbing work. But very therapeutic all the same. 

I miss that monotony now.

The quiet. The solitude.

The peace in my heart.

Finding peace has been difficult lately;

this weekend, especially.

I feel frustrated. Easily irritated. Fed up with everything. I’m angry. I’m also angry that I’m angry. At what, I do not know. I’m sad. Depressed. I feel this great unhappiness hanging over my head and weighing down my heart. Unhappiness over what? Everything and nothing. 

A super long, extra steaming hot shower helps relax me somewhat. Watching Korean dramas on Netflix offer some relief, too. Blogging, even more so. But then... it’s always fleeting. Because one cannot shower, Netflix and blog forever. 

So. Very. Tired.

I've always said this:

"I don't want to survive cancer,

only to be killed by Covid."

Unfortunately, the journey from being "unvaccinated" to becoming "vaccinated" in Malaysia is a long and exhausting one. Even if you're being treated with a whole bunch of meds and have got a history of critical illness. 😞

Dermatology Wing, Penang General Hospital.

It feels like I've been everywhere today but have gotten nowhere at the same time. Stuck in some kind of sadistic limbo with clear goals in mind but none of them reached. Much like how it feels like the entire nation has been in a seemingly perpetual state of some form of lockdown or another for over a year now, but has far from contained the spread of COVID-19. 🦠 

It's taking forever for the elderly to be inoculated. (I'm told that in Penang, we're still at those 79 and above.) Vaccines are insufficient. (Private hospital PPVs are on standby but have yet to receive their share of the vaccines from the government.) Frontliners are overworked and tired. (My cousin is a dentist in Kapit and she's been put on Covid duty for awhile now; how crazy is that?)

When will the wait end? When will I be called? When will Malaysia achieve herd immunity? When will life go back to normal? Will life ever go back to normal? Aih. Who knows, man. Who knows. Am tired after today's runarounds. Body tired; brain also tired. Don't want to think liao.

Long Time Since, Long Time Till...

I've been doing my best to avoid all things raw (save for salads 🍃🌿) since my diagnosis. Sad to have to do so but I guess to err on the side of caution would be better than to take a leap of faith when it comes to things like these. Chemo kickstarted me on this journey back in August 2019, and I've just continued to deny myself, ignore all cravings and keep at it... 

...till tonight. 😈

3-slice Salmon Sashimi @ Isogin Japanese Restaurant.

SOOOOO GOOD. Other places, I wouldn't dare lah. Especially in Penang. 😔 But here at Isogin... well, all I can say is that it pays to chummy up with the owner and chef so you know when the latest shipment of raw goodies come in. Haha. 

A Full Life & A Free Wax

Catheter out yesterday. Peeing came naturally – thank God. (I've had previous experiences where peeing is hard work after being catheterised. 😅) Went to the bathroom a few times but didn't bother looking at myself. Finally looked at my face in the mirror today. Almost fainted.

Thank you medical professionals for saving my life...

...and for waxing 10% of my eyebrow off. 🤨

Bo mor, bo pian la. Teng mia tu ho. 😅
(That's Hokkien for "No hair, nothing you can do la. A long life is enough.")

Hooked Up Right, Left & Center!

Finally got my fuzzy wraps, catheter and drip removed. Big hurrah even though the line on my left hand is to be kept in till I'm discharged. BUT. THAT'S. OK! Cos earlier, I was hooked up to so many things, I could barely move! So this is a very welcomed improvement. On a whole, I’m finally feeling more human and less bionic woman today. 

Me and my three drains to remove excess fluids from my insides.

My plastics doctor calls these my "medallions". 🏅🏅🏅 LOL.

On a separate note...

#crazyhairdontcare 💁‍♀️

Earlier, I had both arms and both legs all wrapped up in what looked like quilt stuffing, a drip on my left hand, a catheter between my legs, three drains coming out from my upper body (one from each boob and one from my right pit)... *deep breath* ...and both my legs (knees down to my ankles) wrapped up in the adjustable attachments of a machine called the VenaFlow® system, which helps with my circulation while I'm not moving. 😅

La familia.

The doctors expect me to be hospitalised for a week. But just a day post surgery and I'm down to the three drains + the line on my left hand (for antibiotics and emergencies) + the VenaFlow® system at night during bedtime so... I'm liking my odds! Slowly slowly la. We're getting there, Pam. We're getting there! 💪💪💪

All Wrapped Up Like A Fuzzy Bunny

 

Looks all warm and cosy but it's actually

quite itchy once the body warms up. 😅

Having said that, I'm finally properly awake post-surgery and I just (barely) survived what felt like the worst night of my life. 😖  Can't deal with much screen time right now, plus every bit of me is hooked up to some tube or another so... story you guys later la, okay. Bottom line is... surgery's over and I'm alive! Hurrah!

Ready, Steady...

Was woken up at the ungodly hour of 5am today for another pre-surgery anti-microbial shower. *groans* Am soooo tired, it's not even funny. 😣

Right now, I'm just sitting around waiting for another drawing session, this time by my Breast Surgeon. (Yesterday's drawing was by the Plastic Surgeon.) Am totally torn between dreading the surgery and looking forward to my upcoming "best nap ever" in a little less than 2 hours. LOL.

Ready and waiting!

Roommates!!!

Not a fan of spending the night alone in the hospital so...

I got me a roommate for the week!

Me and Mee.

Bedtime Messenger Calls With The Boys

Having some FB Messenger fun with the boys

before they head off to bed. #thankGodfortechnology

Ugly faces galore! Wheeee!!!

All Settled In

You know you're officially one of the gang

when you've been tagged. LOL.

On another note, tea has arrived! But I'm not having any of it. The barley is cold and there's ham in the sandwich. I usually love ham and cheese sandwiches but since I've started reducing my intake of processed meats, Imma skip this and save my sin quota for BACON! 🥓😈 

Mandi Bunga Cara Moden 🌸

With this. LOL.

 octenisan® wash lotion – hypoallergenic antimicrobial hair

and body wash that I used from my head to my toes. 🧖‍♀️

Am dressed in my electric blue hospital gown now (as seen in the reflection) and will just be lounging on the hospital bed ala Miss Rose from Titanic. You know, while waiting for someone to draw me. 😏😂

Cuti-Cuti Malaysia

Sort of. 🤣

Patient toiletries plus the latest in hospital fashion. 💃

And so my hotel stay begins. 🙆‍♀️

This is gonna home for the next 7 days

at the very least. Might as well get comfy.

My bedside drawer stuffed with all my kachang.

Didn't bother packing a fully-equipped toiletry bag cos I probably won't use anything other than my toothbrush and toothpaste anyway. Was informed that I'm to take a antimicrobial bath later today. Then I doubt I'll be doing any showering post-op. So... yeah. No need toiletry bag la. #packinglight Also, I doubt I'll have any visitors anyway. #sadbuttrue Hence, look like crap also nevermind la! Hahaha.