Tripping

For a married couple, there's only so little energy you have left for spontaneity. What more a married couple who needs to pack a diaper bag before going on one. Maybe spontaneous trips to buy groceries, or to the drive-through after my afternoon shifts. Wow, how fun.

Yesterday we had another fun one: a spontaneous trip to an acne doctor. I shouldn't have touched my face when I had just one giant pimple back in January. I started using creams, and suddenly I was getting breakouts that lasted for months. Yesterday was my second visit, for phase two they said. 

The doctor's room is full of acne charts and posters; that's how you know they really specialize in dermatology. Only yesterday I noticed a poster at the corner that said: If you find yourself breathing in short pants, try wearing longer ones. That was so close to changing my opinion of this doctor again.

I always thought doctors were quacks, but this one I took quite seriously. He's in a wheelchair, and he has an inspiration poster in the waiting room of him on some snowy mountain that he's conquered. Everest? Wherever it is, you just have to respect him. 

He doesn't talk to me the way other docs do, like you're just there for the piece of paper that excuses your laziness to go to work. He takes me just as seriously, and at the same time punctures it with lightheartedness and camaraderie. He draws a picture of me on my patient card to mark the areas where my acne is the worst. I was about to put back on my mask when he cries Wait! Must draw! and I really couldn't help laughing. But he doesn't draw a smile on my face. 

So he said, phase two. Do you have any intention to get pregnant soon?

I said, God, no.

He nodded, OK, because this medicine is stronger and is unsuitable for pregnancy.

A nod from me, No problem.

He continued, And we also need to make sure your liver is good.

Another nod from me while I was honestly thinking of the last time I'd drank alcohol, Yes, my liver is good. 

He stopped and stared, Oh, we have to take a blood test.

Nod from me, Yeah, sure. 

He laughed and said okay and explained about the procedures yadda yadda, I listened I swear. I signed something and then I stared at the short pants poster again and then suddenly he had a tube and a fresh needle for me. He said, It's nothing, you've given birth before, you're good. 

And I was, but I looked away and closed my eyes and braced for the prick of the needle into my veins. He said I could take out my phone and watch YouTube or Tiktok, but I just kept my eyes shut and pictured my son's face. 

I have gone through worse, multiple times, and for god's sake I have been losing blood every month since I was twelve. He praised me once again for my composure, something I'm always so surprised I have, having been fueled by anxiety my whole life. I laughed, thanked him and left. 

Walked out to the waiting room, where my husband was sitting. My sleeve was already rolled down, but I gestured my elbow to him and announced the blood test I'd just taken. Can't remember the last thing I said before I felt the dizziness kick in. I felt my hearing go numb, then my vision slowly faded. 

Honestly was one of the more psychedelic trips I'd taken while awake. Never had epidural during my labour, and the laughing gas flew me high but I still had some semblance of consciousness. But yesterday in the waiting room, I basically had those long, vivid dreams of mine but wide awake. And it only happened for a minute, I believe. 

I was awake enough to realise a few of my thoughts, first being, I shouldn't have come here today, second being, I hope I don't pee my pants. 

Sadly I was brought back by my husband's voice, Jangan ngada-ngada lah, darah sikit je, and I was almost leaning on his chest when I last remembered sitting upright. Only later on the drive home he said he regretted saying that after he saw how pale my face was, how drained of colour my lips were. I felt better after putting my head between my knees for awhile. 

At one of the red lights on the way home, I called out to him from the passenger seat, Look. And for some reason I started enacting someone about to pass out, with quite a bit of exaggeration. I heard so much pain in his silence before he cried out, See this is why I don't take you seriously! 

Sometimes I imitate the way our kid's eyes roll back when he's falling asleep, and I do it quite often. So yeah I admit, I can see why he thought my passing out at the clinic wasn't real. 

We reached our carpark, and I was about to exit when I noticed the car opposite us that also just parked. The driver had fallen down after leaving their car, and was lying on the ground. I kid you not, my first instinct was to run over and help, but when I saw it was a man I told my husband to do so instead. 

The man laid there for awhile, really looking like he was resigned to his fate, and then I started laughing. My husband told me to stop because we were still in clear view, so I had to look into my phone while my shoulders shook with laughter. 

When I looked back up he was already on his feet, and my husband said, Tak baik seh, orang dah jatuh abih you ketawa. To which I retorted, At least I didn't say Jangan ngada-ngada lah. Think I'm gonna be using this line for awhile now.

So yes, our "spontaneous" trips as a married couple may get lamer through the days but I still had fun. I'm also having fun writing about normal days instead of cryptic posts or past traumas, for the future me to read back and reminisce. 

17. Paris (2021)

 (the playlist)

My wedding day wasn't one of my favourites. You'd feel the same way if you hate having your hair out of your face and a different woman looking back at you in the mirror. I was lucky to be among the few who value the marriage instead, and only when the groomsmen and our photographers left did I feel like myself again. This time, better.

We had to have our honeymoon in singapore, with the borders still not open yet. I couldn't complain, with my everlasting hatred for flights and travels. We spent two nights in a loft hotel and one in a fancy, expensive one in orchard. Both we marveled at, even the loft despite it being significantly smaller. Despite the fancy hotel being walking distance from my own workplace, as if I weren't always in the area.

The first thing we notice when we check in new hotels is the floor we are on. We gasp in pleasant surprise when we realise we're on the highest floor, already excited about the view that is to come. Maybe we take pictures, maybe we share them with lurking eyes or maybe we don't. 

The next place we stayed at was on the 18th floor, and already we wondered about the perspective. Even before seeing the unit for the first time, even before signing our names and taking congratulatory pictures with the property agent. Even before we got our keys to the house and had our impromptu wedding photoshoot in one of the empty rooms.

The view from our new home wasn't much but it was everything. 

At 18, you could see ikea and my old hometown in the distance; you could see our 2017 selves, 22 and lonely on a bus, 24 and free on a newly owned motorcycle. Once ants on the expressway but from our new home, we had a good view of both our past and the future we wanted to build together. The house itself needed some work, furniture to buy and kitchen cabinets to rework.

It was nothing much, but with the right person, it may as well be Paris, it may as well be the whole world. And that was how our honeymoon, though confined to the walls of the country, was extended until now, where he continues to make me laugh, where I continue to hug him from behind. Where our laughter is joined by genuine friends and now, our toddler. Two years honeymoon, and still going.