Screeching Halt

*Update:* This is the exchange which determined I was perfectly fine.

Me: The doctor in the ER is kinda cute..

Z: Did the concussion make you.. straight?

Me: No lah, she’s quite hot.

Z: Phew for me, then?

Me: I was like, doctor doctor, it hurts here, here, there, here, yeah..

Z: Good to know you’re still normal. Still ever the perv.

I quietly resolved this year to wake up earlier, and to exercise more. I did both today, and it all came to a screeching halt.

Apparently all I could say in all that time I was semi-conscious was: “Are my cameras okay?” (9 times) “Am I going to be ugly?” (10 times) At the least I know.. I still care about how I look more than my cameras. I think. 3 stitches. What a way to start a year.

Best part: the stump my bike crashed into was the one that said – “Welcome to Pulau Ubin”. Something tells me I’m not going to feel very welcome there for a long time.

In the operating room, all I remember myself saying was.. “Chest.. heart… pain.. butt.. India. India! Don’t think I can cycle to Lhasa anymore”. (I think the nurse told me I had to take a train, in this condition, and I must have said something about political sensitivities and permits). I can’t even laugh at myself or this situation because.. doctors say, contusions make my heart and ribs hurt everytime I laugh.

The result of having studied psychology too hard is.. trying to make sure again and again that I still speak and spell perfect English, haven’t lost any of my languages, and that I can still form new memories and remember old ones. _Lacerations_.

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