Garfieldhug's Blog

This & That Including What Ails

Back To The Grind, 4th July 22

For Americans, 4 July is Independence Day. But when I read about the shooting down of Roe vs Wade, I wonder how Americans in America will be feeling about 4 July 22.

The stars of the red carpet have also come out to protest, with one saying to renounce their USA citizenry and take up UK citizenship.

For me, 4 July 22, is the day that I return to work after a hiatus of almost 6 months to recuperate from 7 surgeries.

Am I dreading it or am I looking forward to it like an eager beaver?

Honestly, I am not excited but know that I need to line my pocket with pocket change for survival and hence, I have to get back to the grind.

Dreading it is real as I know that the projects that were supposed to be done during my absence were all stalled, waiting for my return to kick it off and conclude it. The stand in for me, whom I call “Imbecile” is a political player and with my new head, Ms Secretive, they make a beautiful pair. So, I am not all rah rah ready to dive back in to the work scene.

But life goes on….whatever their agendas, they need an asinine me to do the job and so, I have to suck it up and get it done. I will only know the atmosphere once I am back in. I just hope the waters are not as murky as I think it is.

Eunuch’s last day is end of June 2022 and his parting remarks to me was to “shout for help” if I am overloaded. He knows that the lean team of Ms Eager, Ms Blur Blob and I are grossly insufficient to get things done.

I must get to know Ms Imbecile as she is heavily shielded by Ms Secretive and this motely duo I need to untangle and know their modus operandi.

To get ready for work, I went shopping for a pair of black sports shoes for work. I needed a good pair of shoes for my spine. It was a factory outlet for New Balance products and pity I was not buying more than a pair else I would receive a further 30% off. The pair I bought was priced at SGD200 but I received a discount of SGD49 and ended up paying SGD160. A decent savings for me! I am happy.

I saw a pair of New Balance sandals for kids priced at SGD40 and wondered if it would fit Garfield’s legs. But after staring hard at it and showing the sales assistant a photo of Garfield, we both agreed that Garfield’s paws or legs were way to big for the pair of sandals.

Silly me, yet the sales assistant, indulged me haha! Garfield was not with me as I needed to get hand soaps and groceries….Watson had an offer of SGD5 for 3 large bottles of hand soap and I selected chamomile, lavender and peaches and cream fragrances. It was a steal as Guardian was selling at SGD2 per bottle and NTUC was selling their house brand at SGD2.45 per bottle.

Minion hood is required as it provides for me and Garfield LOL!

I hope there will not be civil strife in USA as a result of the shooting down of Roe Vs Wade. May the people in charge, legislators or government officials come to their senses and restore faith in their governance of things. As a woman, I sincerely cannot see how a rape victim if becomes pregnant with the child of the rapist is forced to have that baby delivered and provide for it as a parent.

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I’m Happy Cos I Made My Physiotherapist Happy

Physiotherapist has been with me for several of my surgeries at Bates Motel.

I did not like him at first as he was rude and just snubbed me as a patient whenever he attended to me. I felt it was his sourpuss character brought on by shyness and his long list of patients to complete daily.

It was awkward as I did not like him though he was touted to be a better therapist than the other 2 friendlier ones. My White Coats chose him to help me and I had no choice but to comply, as he was the best for my condition.

So, I had a chat with his supervisor on discharge to highlight where he could improve and be nicer. He may not realise it, but as a patient experiencing it, it was not nice.

My last 3 incarcerations at Bates has shown how a patient and physiotherapist relationship can blossom for the benefit of myself as a patient.

Physiotherapist is of Indian origin and has lived in lil red dot for some 19 years now. He is in his forties and still single.

His character is unique as he does not have bedside manners and bark instructions for therapy as if like a drill sargeant. After knowing him better, he sports a funny laugh and has a nice and kind side underneath the not so nice exterior of a character he exhibits.

He is a very good therapist, fully endowed with technique and skillset as a physiotherapist.

What broke the ice between us as patient and therapist was when I started telling him jokes which led to who he is, family and background.

So in my last 3 surgeries, he heard me ordering green tea and took upon himself to go to Little India to get me a box of organic green tea from India as a celebratory gift on my discharge.

We keep in touch and from time to time he would send me funny jokes or video clips on TikTok.

The ice between us continued to melt whilst he started to share about his father’s passing during Covid 19 pandemic and he could not return to India for his late father’s funeral.

He further shared that he hoped to have his mum living in India come stay with him now that borders have reopened for a short period of time to help her cope with loss of her husband, his father.

Unfortunately, his application to bring his mum in on long term visit pass was denied. I studied his case and found the reason for being denied not congruent with the offer for frontline health workers to bring their loved ones into Lil Red Dot to stay with them for a stint. His human resources department did not bother to appeal nor help him and I surmised it could be that they too, may not be getting along with him as a result of his unique character.

I drafted an appeal on his behalf and guided him on how to send to the Head Honcho of the relevant governmental department.

A week after, he told me he received a successful reply from the Head Honcho of the departmeng he wrote to.

I am glad to be able to unite mother and son.

I understand as my mother too has 2 other children besides me who choose not to return to see her nor care for her.

I am happy and reasonate with Snoopy’s message herein.

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Tuesday & The Skies Are Fickle

The skies are fickle,

La Nina and El Nino are full of cloud tickles,

Like pee, the clouds pours till it becomes a trickle!

I cannot complain about the clouds as I love rain, be it in buckets, trickles or sheets as it waters the lawns, gardens, curbside plants and parched grass.

“Hate the sin, love the sinner.” – Buddha I read this quote from Chen’s blog site.

Sin and Sinner – Chen Song Ping (wordpress.com)

Chen writes meaningful posts and I find this especially meaningful to me given what I have gone through in life thus far.

I have written long and hard on MR EX in my blog posts.

Admittedly, I am not a saint and cannot openly say that I can “love the sinner, MR EX” for all that he has done or not done as a person who claims to care.

I had a good laugh when I read MR EX’s post on his Facebook when he shared his “near death” surgery and pain he suffered. His ardent fans would support him and offer him a lot of well wishes as he lives for the limelight.

I compared MR EX to myself. I underwent 33 surgeries and MR EX was nowhere to seen as I went through each on my own, suffering pain and literally “code blue” and was revived. I do not call it my near death experience. Though it qualifies literally!

Pain is relative and each person’s threshold for pain is different. What I laughed at was how MR EX saw his own pain as “intolerable pain and that a line of butchers are waiting to cut him if this near death experience does not eliminate his pain”

I never belittle anyone’s pain as I have gone through pain. I receive compassion and empathy from my mum, friends, my surgeons and especially my loyal team of White Coats. But why am I so harsh towards MR EX?

Simply put:-

I have experienced pain “everywhere” except from my hair.

I have been surgically operated on for 33 surgeries of which the last 7 were done in the last 7 months. My sanity was tested time and time again but I had to find strength to overcome. MR EX was nowhere to be found, nor was he a person who stood by me even when I went through 2 literally near death surgeries; of which for 1 surgery, I did literally become quite clinically dead only to be revived.

So, can I hate the sin and love the sinner?

MR EX may have “deep pain” as he professes but he could still take a flight to travel and return. His tolerance for his claim of “deep pain” is admirable.

I find it very very hard to offer anything nice to say to MR EX or even offer my empathy or sympathy as reciprocity is not there. Yes, I cannot be an angel even!

I find it easier to tell MR EX, karma bites and when it does, learn the pain this so called once upon a time someone he claims to care and still care for and experience it to know it. Perhaps then, MR EX will be a better and more sincere person instead of shielding behind a façade of saintly reverence by worshippers of his public relations blitz!

Perhaps then, MR EX will be kind enough to tell me, he is deeply sorry and understands me for what I have suffered, still suffering and for what he has done.

Till hell freezes over you think? LOL!

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A Heartfelt Story

Credit: The Right handed sweater by Dr. Laha

[I found this on the internet and am sharing it with my readers. It was written by a Dr Laha.]

I quote……

“Long back… for the sake of treatment of my nephew, who was suffering from cancer, I used to travel from Thane to Dadar daily in suburban train.

One day I marked one couple in their 50s , fair, slim, smiling and gracious — husband in office dress with brief case and wife with sober colour saree with shawl…

They sat very close, hand in hand on the station bench.

They used to board the train, take a window seat and sit close to each other. Husband would read newspaper and wife would start knitting a cream coloured sweater…

Seeing day after day I fell in love with them.

I used to come early to station to find them out and see them from a distance… admiring and thanking God that the world is full of such beautiful people.

I saw the sweater get completed till the waist portion… then the chest portion…. then the neck… then the right hand. The lady was knitting the sweater as if there was no hurry, with her quiet and steady pace and smiling face.

And every time they would board on and alight the train hand in hand… taking care of each other amidst crowded local train.

And then suddenly, I missed them, couldn’t find them in the station.

The next day… couldn’t find them. Days passed… 2 months passed. I got worried and impatient… I somehow started loving them.

And when I almost lost hope altogether, suddenly I found that the gentleman in his usual dress and with his briefcase was sitting on a bench.

Gathering my courage and with all hesitancy, I walked towards him, sat beside him and asked –
“Sir, sorry if am bothering you, where is ma’m?”

He saw straight to my face with lots of queries.

With a hurried breath I continued –
“Sir, in fact I have been watching you both for so many months… I saw you as one of the most wonderful couples. God has created in the world. I silently admired and respect you from a distance…
I used to come to station early to find you out. I used to board the same compartment as you boarded…
But where is ma’m? Is she alright?”

“No. She is no more. She left me almost 2 months back.”

I got a goose bump. I got a choking sensation…

“She was suffering from throat cancer in terminal stage…
She wanted to stay beside me and feel me every moment of her life. So against the advice of doctors, she used to accompany me to my office , after quickly finishing her household chores… and she started knitting a sweater for me so that I don’t catch a cold and throat cancer, because she always thought this cold and pollution caused her throat cancer.”

Two trains came and gone. He was not in a hurry. Then the 3rd train came.

He said, “I have to board this train or else I will be late to my office.”

He didn’t wait for me. Straight hurriedly headed to board the train…
And then I discovered the left hand of his cream coloured sweater was still incomplete!
The gentleman had put on the unfinished sweater so easily and unhesitatingly that everything else was so insignificant to him.

He could still feel his wife beside him with this unfinished right-handed sweater….

I couldn’t resist my tears rolling down.

The sweater was incomplete but their loving relation was complete — a complete full circle!

We all struggle to lead an incomplete life like this incomplete sweater but the warmth of one-handed sweater has the power of making the relations a full circle. With whomsoever you want, let all other things be incomplete in life… all relations be complete like a full circle… with love, with affection, with respect, with trust and with gratitude…

If you run away from incompleteness you will reach incompleteness.

If you strive to complete the circle, you can make a full circle with the warmth of incompleteness.

Let the circle of love, affection, respect, trust and gratitude…. full of divine light be there in your life!

Wish you all a Divine full circle ! “

End of quote.

I enjoyed this little tale and I cannot ascertain if it was real or a fiction piece but one thing is for sure, it is a lovely poignant feel good story.

Love in such eternal settings bring a lump in our throats and I sincerely wish all married couples or couples together, having this same magnitude of love. It would be tough but for that, I wish it to be true.

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Inclusivity & Oversensitivity

In today’s society and with social media, online postings can be taken out of context, warped and create online furore. So much so, words like “inclusivity” is used very often to remind us that cyber bullies or keyboard warriors are out there.

Inclusivity is so sensitive that labels for the deaf or blind are changed to hearing or sight impaired. Children or adults with disabilities are now portrayed in media as physically challenged or persons with special needs.

Yes, fanciful and kinder words to lessen the stigma for these unfortunate persons. I remember once upon a short time working in a mental institute, I was part of a group that coined, “Loving hearts, Beautiful Minds” so that these persons will not be ostracised by society. I learnt to walk, talk and sup with these persons and understood their difficulties often triggered by trauma or psychological pain that robbed them of having a peace of mind.

“FAT” – calling anyone fat is not nice. I remember how inconsiderate kids will bully their classmates by singing this rhyme of “fatty bomb bomb” and teachers then did not even bat an eyelid to intervene. These days, “obese” is used by clinicians and for retail clothings, “plus” or “full” or “larger” size persons are used.

In terms of skin color, the biases against Asians (chinese including non mainlanders and Indians) still periodically appear in parts of USA, Australia or New Zealand. “Negroes” or “Colored” people were used once upon a time as a label, then “blacks” – I remember how a toothpaste labelled as “Darkie” with a toon showing dark colored face with sparkling white teeth was deemed politically incorrect and the brand is now rebranded as “Darlie”

Nursery rhymes are ripped apart as sensitivity has set in.

Baa Baa Black Sheep, have you any wool – tossed out from playschools or pre-educational classes for kids.

I believe soon the 3 fat pigs with big bad wolf with different materials for housing will be branded as bad too!

Humans did not use to tear apart works of classical nursery rhymes, but now they do and I suppose the past works of these creators will no longer exist for future people to know of the simple fun and not use it as a means of deningrading any race, religion or creed. Or maybe they did and we were once upon a time, insensitive to it?

Having now gone through so many medical and physical challenges in life, I am unlike others who are afraid to share their illnesses. Cancer is a taboo subject to tell anyone you are suffering from it and with this stigma, many suffered in silence. But given the positive spiel on Cancer and support groups, some are now speaking up as Cancer warriors. I am a Cancer survivor for now. I am unsure what will be my status in the coming years.

For now, I have difficulty with mobility as I recover from shoulder and spinal injuries and have a lot of empathy for those who have this ten times worst. I may not recover from the challenges of mobility and my team of surgeons have warned me. So to prepare self for the inevitable, I have applied for a special parking decal to help me get in and out of parking lots as normal lots are a challenge as it is a tight fit and I am unable to open my car door fully to allow me better access. Still, I need to wait for the approval from the relevant authorities and I sincerely hope they do accord me with this.

I wish life was simple. No need for special overthinking and everyone sees everyone as they are in full acceptance. No need for garnishing or replating and be open and upfront with the disabilities one faces without discrimination from life, work or at play.

My utopian and unachievable think thoughts you think?

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I Never Intended To….

I never intended to have food waste and discovered that tossing a tea bag per day for the mug of daily morning tea is wasteful as I can refrigerate it and use it for the next day. I learnt this useful tip from an Aussie pal. My 50 tea bags per packet will last twice as long now and the tea taste is not compromised. I felt so achieved.

I never intended to toss out disposable chopsticks, but could never find an alternative good use for it, other than re-using it for eating again but it only can be used for 2 times as the wood would splinter and it would not be good for me. Now I have discovered a use for it. I would tie these used chopsticks to form a trellis for my money plant to creep upon on wound around or form a barrier for the creeping plant to creep onto the floor. It gives the money plant a full bodied mini “tree”.

I never intended to undergo so many surgeries in my life. I finally did an audit check of the number of surgeries I have gone through in my life time thus far and numerated a whopping 33 procedures. It is a miracle that I am still alive, albeit minus childhood memories that have been wiped out due to that many general anesthesia sessions.

I never intended to remain single, but it happened as creeps I met did not tally up to my internal scorecard of what makes a good husband. My scorecard is not discriminatory but measures, sincerity, thoughtfulness and genuine care and concern. After dating more guys than my both my fingers and toes added together, I realised that different professions of these chaps carried through to how they treated me. Lawyers are always suspicious and would use the law as defence in arguments. Surgeons are always elusive and controlling. Businessmen are creepy and sneaky as they wheel and deal for business deals. Architects are arty fartsy and their lifestyle is too ornate for my liking as I ain’t a Duchess of Yore character.

I never intended to be smitten with Garfield, my inanimate furball. I had received Smurfs (those lovely blue colored characters with white pants), Pink Panthers, Snoopy toys and Hello Kitty toys. But somehow Garfield, the rotund lazy but cynical cat attracted itself to be with me. Hence my collection amassed to 477 of these inanimate furballs!

I never intended to distrust humans but after encountering several so called “friends” who are actually anything but friends, I decided to select and keep genuine friends. It is not about the physical presence or the amount of times needed to fill a quota to sup together. But it is the presence when help is needed or that kindness is looking out for one another and helping with things.

I never intended to give MR EX such a hard time or reciprocate with the same amount of “hard fights” towards his non acceptable behaviour. I have learnt that it is best to leave this character to account for his own deeds through karmic forces. Should I rejoice in his so called “pain and suffering” or should I have empathy for him? I would stop there as MR EX never showed me an ounce of genuine care, concern or stand by in the event of illness. For me, there is no turning back to MR EX and he is not incorrect to reflect to me that my “love has turned to hatred” for him. I do not deny this. Hate is a strong word, but I am human and my hatred for him will not consume me as I have better things in life to tackle.

I never intended to end up being a good friend of S Man as he was the nastiest person I had ever had for a colleague, not a Lord. I am glad that I could be of help to him during his recent emotional experience. This is one of the strangest thing to happen to me in my life time. S Man is not emotionally stronger and better able to overcome the issues he has had to deal with.

I never intended to be anyone significant in public light. But somehow, I was spotted and endowed with 2 public medals and accolades. I did not do things to be recognised and often went incognito, in my worn out Weinberger sandals, same old pair of shorts and Garfield T shirts. Honestly, I look like any heartlander except that heartlanders dress better than me. This is my only good achievement that I have made in this lifetime.

So, this leaves me with the question of what did I intended to do? Now that is fodder for another blog post 😉


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Tuesday’s Think Thoughts

I was so glad that Mr Nice told me he could be discharge from hospital today and that his wife and 2 sons will take turns to help him with his urinary catheter and urinary bag for the next 10 days whilst he recovers, before the urinary catheter and urinary bag can be disposed of.

I know the feeling as post spinal surgery, I was hooked up to a Pethidine dispensing machine that allowed me to press when I feel pain and release Pethidine to ease my pain. I was also hooked up with a urinary catheter and urinary bag. I was flat on my bed for 7 days before I was allowed to be up and about.

I begged for the opening in my neck for IV plug to be removed by day 3 as I was eating and not dizzy but was refused till day 5. Apparently I have baby veins and the veins collapsed once the IV drip went in. So Dr Anaes had to do one IV plug through use of my carotid vein. He shared that this was usually used for open heart surgeries and or other major heart surgeries as this vein was large.

I learnt humility as I laid on my back. I was beholden to the nurses for keeping me clean and made it point to be up by 4.30am so that the 2 out of 3 nurses in the night shift could be less burdened as they had to take care of 12 patients nightly. This way, they can sponge me and move on to do other things.

By day 7 I forced self to get up on commode and be wheeled to the toilet and it was super painful. I now know how people with disabilities or post operations feel.

I had to wear a diaper at night as getting 2 nurses to help me each time to get to the toilet would be a chore and it eased their workload. I did not like it, but I had no choice.

I also learnt to reflect on my life.

What does chasing the extra dollar means to me if I have no life or mobility to pick it up. My mum is wise and reminded me that without health, even if one million bucks dropped in front of me, I cannot even bend down to pick it up, much less lug it home to keep. But yes, I know that legally, I need to report it to the police station as finders is not keepers and yes, I could not even lug it to the police station!!

I am also thankful that I did not get married. Chances are with my myriad surgeries (32 as at 31 May 2022), no husband will still stand by me and live up to the oath of “in sickness and in health, till death do us part!” – I will be a forever burden to the chap!

But I am also open to the fact that I get lonely as I age. I will probably need to live in a nursing home in the future or in an assisted living facility and make new friends to co-exist with. I hope the nursing home quality and standard of living improves from now as what I have seen is quite dreadful here. The 5 star ones costs SGD15,000 for a single room and for that price, I might as well live in a 5 star serviced apartment. This cost excludes medical care, medicines and or laundry etc.

So, I will rot like an old crotchety woman, with a raggy Garfield in tow, watching CSI reruns or NCIS series or some other new police drama like Hudson and Rex.

I have given up on romantic love. After MR EX, I decided that love is not real and is superficial.

Even unconditional love becomes conditional. I started out being supportive of a housekeeper at Bates Motel. I gave her money for this or that when she moaned about her husband being unwell in Malaysia. It was small amounts of SGD10, then it increased to SGD50 which added up to a fair bit during my stay each time.

3 days ago, this housekeep forwarded me a text that the income tax department wanted her to pay SGD1,700+ for her income tax. I knew then, that Housekeeper wanted me to pay for this. I stood firm and turned her down as I too, had to earn my money and this is now getting to be sizeable amounts.

If I was Warren Buffet, I could pay for Housekeeper but Housekeeper lives in a landed property in Malaysia and has 2 adult sons. But I am not! I am a wage owner with my own expenses and family to care for.

Housekeeper is not entirely truthful and information comes in dribs and drabs and only after 10 years, I learnt that there were 2 sons instead of 1 son.

I learnt the lesson of “kindness being taken for weakness” too.

I do not know how I will end up in life and if I had a wish, I will not want to live long if there is no quality of life. I do not want anymore surgeries and want this 32nd surgery to be the mother of all surgeries and it ENDS!

I am not depressed or suicidal. I am practical.

Lil Red Dot is an expensive place to live in and it is quite impossible to retire and think savings will suffice. All it takes is a major catastrophic illness to wipe up hundreds of thousands of savings as insurers are now wising up to medical costs and may not approve all hospital and surgical claims.

If I need SGD2,500 to live a month, I will need SGD900,000 to survive me if I live till 90 years old. But this is unrealistic as with premium increments for medical insurances and cost of living, I will probably need SGD5,000 a month and I will need SGD1.8 million if I live till 90 years old.

I sincerely hope I can croak tomorrow. Easier as I will have funds to take care of self and Garfield (poor fella will then be stuffed into the niche with me).

Bummer!

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Saturday Humor

It is Saturday again. I am managing my own “instant” meals, which I will post separately.

Luckily for me, I am a singleton else if I am married, my “husband” will divorce me for sure.

Today’s drama is my 78 year old hard of hearing neighbor tells me of a leak in his ceiling. Lucky again for me, ths plumber was in the estate, I can get it fixed at SGD280. I was not in the state of health to argue who should pay and I just paid for it. Interfloor leaks are always arguable and the last time it happened to me, the upper unit refused to pay, saying it was within my unit below floor slab. So I paid for it. Now my turn, I also had to pay as 78 year old is hard of hearing and I am recovering without energy to argue Sigh….my logic is if $ can solve problems and I have $ then I close it. Else to drag self to Strata Board and file SGD500 is a waste of my precious whatever life I have left!

Unfortunately I paid SGD280 to avoid “friendships” but so long as 78 year old is ok, then so be it.
When I was in Bates, I asked my staff nurse why she looks so drained and staff nurse told me this is her “RB”. Clueless, I asked what RBF stands for and she said it was “resting bitch face” 😄😄

Happy Saturday folks!

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Saturday Humor

It is Saturday again. I am managing my own “instant” meals, which I will post separately.

Luckily for me, I am a singleton else if I am married, my “husband” will divorce me for sure.

Today’s drama is my 78 year old hard of hearing neighbor tells me of a leak in his ceiling. Lucky again for me, ths plumber was in the estate, I can get it fixed at SGD280. I was not in the state of health to argue who should pay and I just paid for it. Interfloor leaks are always arguable and the last time it happened to me, the upper unit refused to pay, saying it was within my unit below floor slab. So I paid for it. Now my turn, I also had to pay as 78 year old is hard of hearing and I am recovering without energy to argue Sigh….my logic is if $ can solve problems and I have $ then I close it. Else to drag self to Strata Board and file SGD500 is a waste of my precious whatever life I have left!

Unfortunately I paid SGD280 to avoid “friendships” but so long as 78 year old is ok, then so be it.
When I was in Bates, I asked my staff nurse why she looks so drained and staff nurse told me this is her “RB”. Clueless, I asked what RBF stands for and she said it was “resting bitch face” 😄😄

Happy Saturday folks!

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When In Pain & MR EX Continues To Be A Drama Queen

For those who have not read my earlier posts on MR EX, he was once upon a time my boyfriend till I realise he is nothing more than a louse, a lousy person without empathy or concern. I was so glad to leave him once I saw his true colors.

I wanted to believe the good in him. I laughed at his jokes and did enjoy his company but for him to marry someone else when I rejected him within 3 months made me think that I made a good decision.

Well, he haunts me now and then. But he showed no empathy or concern when I am ill in hospital. Instead when I was warded, he played up his own drama saying he was undergoing another op and another op. Each time I am in hospital, he will tell me he is also in hospital.

I have zero empathy for him and told him. He writes text messages like these below:-

MR EX

“Ops next week. May not make it. Get ready for boohhoohoo”

Note1

He does this to make me afraid that if he dies, his spirit will haunt me, hence “boohoohoo”like the spirits do! Bah humbug, it does not work for me anymore.

ME

“Like I said, go boo hoo those you park your wealth under. I do not believe for one minute you are penniless. Go get your wealth from those you park under. If they can enjoy your wealth, they can jolly well hold your hand through this surgery and old age. I am nobody to you.”

Note2

I have had enough of his cries for having not a penny to his name and that he has no money when I gather from the market sources that he has properties all over the world and his current family is living a high life! I am of no significance to him and why should I be bothered if he is rich or poor. If he is really destitute, I will have social services help him but really he is well off! So I do not understand his repeated cries to me of being penniless!

MR EX

“After my ops next week, hopefully I won’t be dopey & in pain to sink. And I can see & read text again”

ME

Drama Queen. I finished 8 hr op with 12 inch wound on my back and still lucid. Your “kachang puteh” [Translated from Malay to mean small like peanut] op shows you are a pampered man who never experienced pain. So it is good you experience pain and suffering and know what I face my life without any care or concern for me. You deserve to feel pain and know what it is like!”

Note3

I know I am evil at this point. But enough is enough isn’t it?

MR EX then sends me a barrage of youtube clips of songs in chinese that I have no understanding off. He is annoying! Silly man! Below are the clips he sent me. Meaningless to me as I do not understand chinese to fathom what he is trying to tell me! Idiot!

Meanwhile, today is Dragon Boat Festival or Dumpling Festival. Wishing all my Asian friends a bountiful dumpling festival and enjoy eating it. Prices have sky rocketed here and it costs SGD8 to SGD12 per dumpling to eat during this season. Off peak, outside of the season, it is about SGD3 to SGD4 per dumpling!
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