Ouchy Bum (Part Two)

Woahhh… I Feel kinda funky…

Nurse: You’re here to pick up Chang Xin-Hua’s cat? You can come in to the back and sit with him for a few minutes while you wait for the doctor.

Hunh? What’s that fuzzy thing over there? It looks kinda like a person… and it sounds like that male-person that mom lets live with us. Man I feel weird…

Doctor: He will not feel good for awhile. But he is okay. Everything went alright. Do you want to see the testes?
Male-person: Sure.
Doctor: There is blood. Will you feel sick?
Male-person: No that’s okay.

Hey… what are they talking about? I don’t like the sound of that. What are “testes” anyway? Why do I feel like something is missing?

Doctor: He will have to wear this plastic so that he doesn’t lick his wound.

Woah hands! What are you doing lady?! Meow! This is so humiliating! There’s something in the edges of my vision! Get it away from me! Meow! Hiss!

Doctor: He should wear it for three days. He can have a little food when you go home. If he eats it and doesn’t throw up you can feed him a little more.

I don’t like this thing on my head! Get it off! Meow! Hey what are you doing now? I don’t wanna go in there! Why is everything still so fuzzy? Why aren’t my legs working right?!

Male-person: It’s okay buddy. Calm down. We’re going home now. You’ll see your mom soon! We’re just going to walk down the street now…

What’s all that noise? Where am I? Meow!

Male-person: Here’s our building. We’ll just go inside first.

Aaahhh! Hiss! What was that loud noise?! Where am I?!

Male person: Sorry buddy that was just the door. Look here’s the elevator. Now here we are at our home. Let me just put your stuff down. Okay now here’s the bedroom – look here’s your bed and some water and food. Let me open the door of your carrier now and…

Waaahhh!!! I’mmm freeee!!! What is this thing around my neck!!!!!??? Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!!

Male-person: Nuenue! Stop! Wait come back here! You’re going to hurt yourself! No not into the living room! Wait come out from under the couch. Stop! Ah – almost got you! Nuenue come back over here! Stop! Got you! Sorry Buddy! You have to have it on. Okay I’ll put you back into the carrier until you’re feeling a little better. But I’ll leave the door open a crack so you can come out when you want to.

[Two hours pass]

Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!! Get it off!!

Male-person: Not again! Nuenue stop! No stay out of the bathroom! Hey you knocked over that plant! Come back here! Almost got you – sorry I hit your head like that buddy! Okay I’ve got you cornered now! Stop shaking your head like that you’ll hurt yourself! Got you! Okay buddy – we’ll take this thing off. But you can’t lick!

Okay that’s a little better. Jerk. I can’t believe you did that to me. I’m going to hide in the corner of the room. Keep that scary thing away from my head! Meow! Hey… what’s going on here anyway!? What’s this thing on my leg? And why does my back end feel so sore? Ugh.... I'm exhausted...... Let me just close my..... eyes..... here......

[few hours pass]

zzzz......zzz........ ugh?!

MOM!

Mom’s back mom’s back……. I can hear her at the door……. I’m coming, mom! Aw~ my bum!..... Must go to the door…..Man, does it hurt when I walk!.... I’m feeling a bit woozy…. MOM! You’re home.

K: Nuenue! [chuckle] Is he okay? He looks…… scruffy.

I feel like shit and all you care about is my looks?

B: Oh~ he got up to welcome you home.
K: Where has he been?
B: Sleeping in the bedroom. He’s still out of it a bit, I think.

Hey mom….. Oooo….. dizzy…… You wouldn’t mind if I just sat right here for a sec, right?! ….. Ah! Cold floor!

K: So what did the doctor say?
B: Everything’s fine. They gave him a plastic collar to wear but he went crazy so I took it off.

Mom, I can’t sit on the floor. It’s too cold and it really hurts when I sit down.

K: YOU TOOK IT OFF? I thought he was supposed to wear it for a few days!
B: Yeah, but he really doesn’t like it. He couldn’t get to his food with it on.
K: He ate?
B: Yeah, a little bit.
K: Nuenue, you must’ve been starving, eh? Not eating for almost 24 hours…Why are you sitting funny? You’re half sitting on one leg, half leaning against the wall.

Let’s see how graceful you’d be when your bum hurts as much as mine.
I’m exhausted. Can we just go to bed and cuddle?

B: He was really pissed off with the collar on….running around the house like crazy….. bumping into things….knocking things over….
K: My mom said Mocha was like that after his surgery.
B: I think he’s calmed down a lot.
K: Has he been licking?

Okay, seriously, can you two continue talking in the bedroom? Let’s go to bed and cuddle.

B: I haven’t noticed it. He’s been so out of it he hasn’t done much. He only got up once just now when you came home.
K: Well, as long as he doesn’t lick his wound, I guess he’ll be okay without the collar.
B: He’ll be fine. We just have to keep an eye on the incision….. that it doesn’t burst open again.

You realize I’m still here waiting? Cuddle! Cuddle! Cuddle! Cuddle! Cuddle! Cuddle!

K: Oh hey Nue! Wanna cuddle on my lap?

You humans talk about how cats have an attitude problem....... It's not that we have an attitude. It's really that you guys can be so dumb sometimes. Now stay still. I'm going to sleep now.

Ouchy Bum (Part Two)

Please ask Mr. Bill "I-don't-wanna-write-about-a-silly-cat" Martin.
It was his assignment.

Ouchy Bum (Part 1)

Yuck! The place stinks like a wet dog! Wait! I remember what this is..... Where’s that funny-looking black Labrador with curls on his back? The humans called him “curly”. Hee hee hee..... how original!

Doctor: “Good afternoon, Ms. Chang. Hi, Nuenue, are you ready for your surgery?”

Oh, hey! That’s the nice lady! Last time I was here, she patted me and scratched my neck. She's so nice....

Doctor: “Ms. Chang, let’s weigh Nuenue first. Ms. Lin, do you mind taking Kitty off the scale and putting him next to you? It helps him relax knowing that you’re close by. Thank you~~~! Okay, now come over here, Ms. Chang. Why don’t you put the carrier on the scale with Nuenue in it?! We’ll then take him out and weigh the empty carrier later.”

Look! An orange tabby! Oooo….. you don’t look good...... What’s the matter? You have a tummy ache? Um…. (sniff sniff) Did you pee on yourself? Oh, okay! I’ll leave you alone if you don’t feel like chatting.

Doctor: “Okay, 4.55 kilograms. Now please take Nuenue into the exam room.”

Bye~ orange tabby! Hope you feel better soon.

Doctor: “Okay let’s take Nuenue out of his carrier. Ms. Chang, why don’t you open the top and I’ll pull him out?!”

Who’s grabbing me? Mom!!! Someone’s pulling my hind legs! Meow~~~~!

Doctor: “Okay! Okay! Nuenue’s a good kitty cat, isn’t he?! Here we go. Now you’re free!”

Oh hey, mom! Here you are. (purr) Did you see how brave I was? Someone grabbed me by my hind legs and I meowed and she let go! Can I lean against you for a sec? My heart's racing like a horse......... What’s that in her hand?

Doctor: “We're taking his temperature. Nuenue, it will only take a moment, okay?!”

Wha-? HEY! That’s rude! Mom, make her stop!
Okay, how could you be ignoring me right now? I’m very uncomfortable here! Hello~~~?

Doctor: “Nuenue, don’t wiggle around or it’ll hurt. One more second and….. we’re done!”

Phew~! That felt weird! (purr) Someone comfort me, please.

Doctor: “Oh~~~~~ Isn’t that cute?! Nuenue, feel good in mommy's arms?”

Doctor: “I’m gonna go get a towel to cover him up ‘cause we’re goning to draw some blood. I’ll be right back.”

Are you scared too, mom? Let me lick your hand to make you feel better.
No, mom! Don’t put me back down!
Hey, who turned off the lights? Is it beddy-bye time?
Ow~~~~~~~~ No! No! No! No! No!

Doctor: “No kicking, Nuenue! I couldn't get any blood. Hold on to him tight. Let’s do it again.”

I don’t …… OW!!!!!! It hurts!

Nuenue, stay still. You're a good boy.

Let’s go home, mom. I don’t…… OW~~~~~~

Shhh… I know….. Okay, it's done. No more ouchy!

I don’t like this place anymore…...The nice lady isn’t nice after all! (hiss!)

- a while later -

Doctor: “Ms. Chang. Nuenue’s very healthy. His blood tests came back normal. You can put him in a cage in the back….. we’ll let him relax there for a while before taking him in to the OR.”

Doctor: “The surgery itself takes about 10 minutes. It’s the pre-op and post-op that take a lot of time. We’ll call you when we begin the surgery and after the surgery is done. Is it okay to call you on your cell?”

Doctor: “Of course, you can’t answer the phone when you’re teaching. We’ll leave a message for you then. And your boyfriend is coming to pick Nuenue up later? ............ Oh, (chuckle) that’s no problem! I can tell him how to care for Nuenue in English.”

Ooo… What’s this place? So interesting......must sniff around….. Huh? Oh, okay. Bye, mom!

I've been back on full-time schedule for three days. I'm very excited and nervous. Though it is like riding the bicycle, it still takes a while to get back into the groove. I've also been wearing my wig to work. Originally I just wanted to see how people would react, but now it's gradually growing into a routine. It's been obvious that, for a lot of my coworkers, it itakes some getting used to. I was told to leave the Teachers' Room a few times because the secretaries couldn't recognize me from behind and thought I was a student. A Japanese teacher who went on sebbatical last term stared at me for quite a while before she finally gasped and called my name.The Kate in Taiwan has always had short hair. No wonder people here are really having trouble getting used to the long-haired Kate. Hell, my own boyfriend didn't recognize me when we were out with some friends two nights ago. I was talking to a friend by the entrance and Bill was on his way to the bathroom. He looked straight at me (and I did the same to him), looked at Jimmy, looked at me again, and headed for the door. There was no expressions of acknowledgement on his face whatsoever. I swear he was shocked when I grabbed him by his waist as he walked pass me ("Who is this crazy chick?"). He explained later that it was dark and that he was on a mission to relief himself. It really didn't bother me that my boyfriend didn't recognize me. After all, we've only lived together for 2 short years.

"I wonder what I'd look like with a wig on?" I thought to myself while watching the movie "Dream Girls". That afternoon, I did a search for wigs on Chinese Yahoo and ordered this one on a Japanese wig collection site. It was delivered to my door the next morning. While it may not surprise those of you in Vancouver 'cause you've seen me with long hair, it's a bit of a shock for people I know in Taiwan. The front desk staff at our school, for example, screamed when I entered the door and kept telling me how much more girlish and quieter I looked. When asked how I knew this wig would look good on me, I was dumbfounded 'cause it never occurred to me when I was punching in my credit card number. "I'd save it for Halloween," I said.

IT’S GARBAGE TIME IN TAIPEI

Pre-game Analysis

They’re fast. They’re sharp. They’re the most efficient. They arrive the earliest and are the last to leave. They’re punctual, accurate, and cooperative. A quarter to the event is the time they assemble. Upon arrival, they help each other put down their bags at the precise location , then they gather in the least noticeable corner. Though they come from Thailand, Indonesia, and the Philippines, they seem to have no problem communicating with one another. Averaging around 5 feet tall, these tiny ladies usually carry a much heavier load as individuals than anyone else at the scene, and they also perform the best in the paint. There seems to be consent for a unified outfit among them: hair pulled back into a ponytail, a washed-out, hand-me-down T-shirt with an oversized cartoon character in the front, denim trousers that wrap to the ankles and showcase the rear, and a pair of flat-bottom open-toe flip-flops that are sometimes a tad too small for their already small feet. The only occasional accessory is an umbrella. They wear no more or less in freezing cold or scourging hot.

The second group that arrives is “the Dudes”. These are not your average healthy buffed sunny boys with six packs; these are 60-odd-year-old Dudes with men boobs and walking canes. Watching how slow and clumsy they are, one might find it difficult to imagine that, 5 decades ago, these Dudes were lean mean killing machines who believed they were fighting for freedom and democracy. Some of these veterans left their families behind in China and moved to Taiwan with Chiang during the war. Most of them ended up marrying Taiwanese women and starting new families. However, if they’re out here at the scene, that usually suggests celibacy. Let me tell ya, no wives would ever allow their husbands to be walking around in blue-n-white striped PJ bottoms with a big hole in the crouch area that opens and closes as they walk.

There’s always immediate tension in the group of the tiny ladies as soon as the Dudes arrive. First they change the group formation into a horseshoe with the opening gap facing the general direction where the Dudes are. They take turns keeping an eye out while carrying on a lively conversation in Tagalog-Thai-Bahasa-Indonesia. The Dudes also keep an eye on the tiny ladies, but they do so in a much creepier, “you-don’t-wanna-know-what-goes-through-their-minds” kind of way. It’s kind of like what goes on between boys and girls in 6^th or 7^th grade. The only difference is that the tiny ladies here are more on-guard than gigglish when a Dude approaches them.

If you’re unfortunate enough to be caught in the midst of this awkward unfamiliarity that makes you doubt your physical and mental whereabouts, not to worry. There are always a few cuckoos at the scene to remind you of your rightful existence and to offer comfort to your self-realization.

When you can hear Ludwig van Beethoven’s Fur Elise but can’t see the yellow garbage truck yet, that’s when the housewives show up. They give out this false confidence with their perm short hair and newly applied lipstick. You may also identify them by the clunking of high-heeled slippers or the shrieking of exaggerated high-pitch voices echoing in narrow laneways. Unlike the tiny ladies, the Taiwanese and Mainlander housewives only greet one of their own. Amazingly, however, they all do it in an equally superficial way. As a group, these housewives adopt a superior and standoffish attitude toward the tiny ladies. They look down on them because of their race and skin color. At the same time, they’re jealous of the ladies for their more youthful (but curvy) figures. Each of these wives has heard about someone’s husband sleeping with a tiny lady. Every night at garbage time, these wives’ beliefs that their own husbands will not be able to resist the temptation are strengthened by the slimy smirks on the Dudes’ faces. That’s why these wives would rather be out here dumping their own garbage than hire a tiny lady as help at home.

Show Time

There are usually two recycling trucks leading the way, followed by a gigantic yellow stink generator. In garbage-collector academy, the following is a list of items that the aspired were trained to do:

1. ALWAYS charge at the crowd of human flesh at an incredible speed before coming to a sudden halt.

2. NEVER get off the truck. Stay on high ground while the common populace gather and present their offerings.

3. When you read “utter”, “talk” or “say” in this list, we mean SHOUT at deafening volumes.

4. UTTER some unintelligible gibberish at persons who dare asking questions.

5. SWITCH to Taiwanese when talking to foreigners, who are usually here to study Mandarin. See also #4.

6. IGNORE any persons who smile at you. If they’re really that nice, they won’t mind waiting until you’re ready to deal with them at your convenience.

7. INSULT people’s intelligence by grabbing the cans and bottles out of their hands while reminding them today is Monday [1].

8. OFFER HELP only to young and attractive females.

9. DO EVERYTHING for the young and attractive females if they massage your male ego with high-pitched whiny voices.

10. LEAVE the scene at the same speed you arrive. DISREGARD the safety of persons who might be running alongside and banging on the truck.

Performance blow-by-blow

The tiny ladies are first up. They’ve rehearsed the routes so many times that they could do it with blindfolds. They know exactly where the truck would stop, so they locate their bags in the spot that allows them to penetrate into the paint without running into the compose barrels. They run in, get the job done, and regroup back in their corner before the truck completely stops.

In comparison, the Dudes and the housewives are embarrassing to watch. As soon as the garbage truck comes to a complete stop, they pick up the garbage bags in the way a person allergic to cats would pick up a cat. They use the bags as shields to disgust anyone in front of them out of the way, as well as to fight off anybody who approaches from the sides. They storm toward the truck with their shoulders bunched up and their noses wrinkled. As much as they wish no one would touch them in any way, they would blindly and mercilessly elbow you just below the ribcage if you get in their way. Should a pointy heel land on your big toe during all this chaos, you can pretty much expect the owner of the heel to totally ignore you and treat you in such a way that makes you wonder if you’ve turned transparent somewhere along the line.

No one can shoot a 3-point because Taipei City Government designed the garbage bags to be strong enough for you to hold but not quite strong enough to hold everything in. The goal is to dump the garbage and get out somewhat clean. No one’s keeping scores on the sidelines anyhow.

Post-game Wrap-up

The crowd gradually disperses after the yellow stink generator has left. The housewives leave as soon as the only reason for them to pretend to be nice to one another is no longer present. Shuffling their feet one in front of the other, Dudes with walking canes slowly make their way back to where nostalgia of a much more glorious time resides. The young attractive females hurry off to a much different crowd in the east side of town and the crazies wander off to their own worlds in the farside. The tiny ladies linger until the absolute last minute before heading toward the direction of their employers’ houses. In pairs or threes, they talk fast while walking slowly. While most of us consider garbage collection time to be a drag, these 15, 20 minutes are the only time when these ladies get to socialize and be themselves, away from their employers’ reach.

[1] Cans and bottles are collected every Tuesday and Thursday. Mondays and Fridays are paper and plastic.

Owning Up To It

I’ve been looking at pictures of garbage on Google Image. I was going to blog a funny story about the garbage-collection system in Taipei despite the fact that all I wanted to do was to sit in a corner and cry my eyes out. I wouldn’t allow myself to do so because what I should be doing is to count my blessings rather than to feel sorry for myself. Moreover, crying is a sign of weakness, and this is not a time to be weak.

It seems that everyone thinks it is time to celebrate. I understand why it may seem like the most logical thing to do. After all, I finished one round of chemo therapy and, if everything goes well, I’ll never have to do it again. I SHOULD also feel good about this and start enjoying life. However, I feel like the person who accidentally walked into the wrong house where a party was already taking place. Frankly, I have no idea what there is to celebrate.

How ungrateful I am?! There are people who have gone through far worse than I have, yet here I am, feeling sorry for myself. How vein I am?! There are people who have lost far more than I have, yet here I am, making fuzzes about my weight-gain and change of appearance. I feel guilty for how stupid I’ve been. I feel apologetic to those who expect more of me.

I’m sorry that I’ve disappointed you.

The thing is, I’m the only one who knows what I’ve been through. I’m also the only one who knows how important these losses are to me. I’m fatigue and I feel faint from time to time. I’ve never been this heavy and out of shape in my life. My heartbeat hits as loudly as war drums when I walk. I gag when I hear or say the word “chemo”. I can’t talk about my treatments without getting misty-eyed. I fear going back into another course of chemo therapy if there’s any sign of cancer within the next 180 days. In sum, I still feel like a cancer patient, not a cancer survivor, so what the hell are we celebrating?!

********************************************************************

Here comes smarty-pants Kate:

I know I’m smarter than this. I believe it’s mind over matter. I won’t allow myself to indulge in self-pity; instead, I’ll fill my days with things to occupy my time. You know, like reading, drawing, planning for my classes next semester, brain-storming the professional-development programs for the teachers, going for a walk with a friend, planning a dinner party, putting together a “baby-survival kit” for a dad-to-be, cleaning the house, looking up jobs in North America, etc. Nothing! Nothing made me feel better. At the end of the day, I sat fighting off the urge to sit in a corner and cry my eyes out.

As a believer of the power of knowledge, I searched and learnt about depression upon/after the completion of chemotherapy (see for example http://cancerguide.org/rgrimm_story.html). It didn’t work. All it did……all I did was that I sympathized and cried while reading the stories. It didn’t do me any good.

**************************************************************************************

My life is an irony.

I knew that I’d be an awesome mom when I was 13 year old, yet I’m a single 34-year-old with one ovary. I spent years developing into a self-sufficient and independent woman, yet certain people seem to be under the impression that they could put me aside at their convenience (‘cause you know, Kate’s tough). I mastered a second language with perseverance and hard work, yet I can’t tell my students the truth because they’d automatically think my English could never be as good as a native speaker’s. My own people think of me as a foreigner; and foreigners think of me as Taiwanese. All I want to say, to these people, is this: unless you have mastered a second language like I did, shut the f*%$ up!

*********************************************************************

I’m gonna own up to it.

Yes, I’m experiencing depression after chemotherapy.

Yes, I’m having mood swings and I want to punch everyone I see (it’s the steroids, I swear).

Yes, I feel as if no one understands, and could ever understand, how I feel.

Yes, from time to time, I’d like to admit that I’m not as tough as you think I am.

And finally,

Yes, I’d like someone to hold me and tell me that I don't have to try to be tough anymore.

*********************************************************************

I’m gonna go work on the piece about the garbage-collection system in Taipei now. I’m sure you’ll love it.

Put In Your Two Cents Please

If Nuage could speak English, what would be the first thing he says?

Oh, this is Nuage's baby picture. He was 2 months old. The picture was taken on the first day he came home with me.

If you’ve played “Pikmin”, you’d know that Pikmins are little sprouts that help you throughout the video game. A Pikmin goes through three stages of “growth” if you leave it underground: first it grows a leaf, then the leaf turns into a bud, and finally it flowers. Their strength goes from the weakest to the strongest throughout these stages, respectively. If my white blood cells were Pikmins, I must’ve had a lot of the ones with leaves on their heads. Though enormous in number, they were diminutive in strength. When faced with a common cold, they fought hard and died fast. How fast they die is jaw-dropping: the head count was over 10,000 on Tuesday, and it dropped down to 1,500 on Friday. Let’ not forget my body naturally makes them all this time too. The combination of chemotherapy and a cold……. scary…..

I’ve been in the house for five days, and it doesn’t look like I’ll be going out today either. So pardon me if I sound a bit loony.

I have a point! The point of this blog entry is this: NEVER TAKE YOUR BODY FOR GRANTED. I’ve certainly gained a lot of respect for those tiny little things that run to my defense at the first sight of danger.

I’m gonna go lie down now.

p.s.
I can't believe I missed April Fool's Day....