Transplant soon and I am scared as fuck. There out of my chest..

The Truth Hurts

It's now day 5 of my life with Leukemia.

To tell you the truth, I have much difficulty adapting to life with cancer. I thought that through gritted teeth, I can push my way through this. But, it isn't easy at all. The doctor just came in this morning to tell me that I had a rare case of a combination of ALL and AML. Things look really bleak at the moment. I would definitely need a marrow transplant. The trenchant truth.

In that one moment, I let out an uncontrolled sigh and an unexplained tiredness overcame me. The amalgamation of fears that I thought that I had successfully suppressed battled their way out and seeped through. I wasn't going to university in 2012. I wasn't going to be able to pursue my life the way I had planned. I was going to be very weak. What if my friends left and forgot about me when they entered university? I would be all alone, emaciated in a cold ward with toxic chemicals running through my veins, destroying both cancer and healthy cells with equal ruthlessness and indiscretion.

As I looked into the mirror and see the gruesome tubes pouring out of my chest, I say out loud "I don't want to have cancer. God, why did you let this pass?" I can't help but cry. I have not even held hands with a woman that I love and yet I have to battle cancer. It seems to be a wicked reversal of time. Theoretically, cancer should affect mainly the old after years of acquired chromosomal mutations. Yet, here I am, at 20, suffering from a disease of the aged. God has decreed that I should not be allowed the normal rite of passage. From adolescence to adulthood to parenthood. He has decreed that this is a fight that I cannot avoid.

I truly want to stay positive and fight till my very last breath. I will. I have no other option. Yet, I cannot deny that I despair at the odds and the suffering I am about to behold. If You'd would only take this cup from me..

I am comforted by the words of a friend; that God will never give you more than you can bear. Have faith. That's the only thing that would separate me from the living dead at the moment. That's the truth, and it's the only thing that would set me free from this other painful truth.

What a bummer thinking of a suitable heading..

Doesn't life feel that way sometimes? Why do I need to think of a title in order to express certain thoughts, feelings and emotions? Can't I fumble in that which is inchoate? To let it be instead of having a clean dissection?

Titles. Where it forces you to label everything just so that our limited intellect can hope to categorise and organise everything that we perceive into a little mental shelf. There's always a structure to everything. Lesson plans to follow. Rules to follow. Protocols and an interminable number of chess-like steps in living this life. Rather makes you a determinist doesn't it? That to believe in a life of wanderlust toppled with serendipity is a life not lived.

Not that I would fancy such a lifestyle. I like things which are clear, distinct and predictable. If I could only fit all of life into a crystal jar and be able to take a macro-perspective. All would fit into a rational framework.

Yet, no..

You don't go clubbing, where dirty, sweaty grinding is the de rigueur, to feel an abomination towards those desperate men snapping at any chance to swarm a tipsy female in a short skirt. You should have flirtatious fun yourself. That's not logical at all. It's analogous to jumping into a pool and hoping to stay dry. Ridiculous.

You'd think that a girl as pretty and as intelligent as she was would be confident. Yet, to read that she doesn't see herself in that light. That she's in a little bubble.. that doesn't make sense at all does it? Oh, I wish I could break that bubble.. laughably I was tongue-tied and in a bubble myself when we met..

There's no framework. We are irrational (and Adam Smith concurs with me). We create systems but our very core deviates to entropy. CO is right, structure breeds conduct. It describes us as a fluid taking the shape of its container. We need structure or we'd just be a formless puddle. Useless. Wasted.

I want to break free of certain thought patterns or moulds. I cannot achieve the effective life that I envisage with my current container. So I am thankful to be in Viper. I knew that NS would influence me. Be in a fun container that bends with a successful mould.

Lull.

My first new post for the year.

Wow. Much has indeed passed since my last post here. I haven't been inspired (or the lack of time rather) to write since last september. Tekong has been a blast. Life as an SCT seems so surreal now that I've gotten used to life as a commander.

Looking back at the previous post, I wonder, who gives me the right over my 61 boys? I cringe sometimes when I think about the things that I did, or shouldn't have done, in training school. Makes me question my ability and more importantly, the right to lead. But, I'm learning. Constantly. I'm not sure but perhaps I'm subconsciously trying to make amends for my subpar conduct in the past. Hoping that I can somehow forgive myself. Either way, I can say that I worked my butt off real nicely.

So far so good. It's great to see the boys POP. It gives me great pleasure to know and see that they have grown from "blur cocks" to moulded privates ready for their next phase of training. In retrospect, I could have been more efficient in certain areas of their training.. can't wait to gear up for the next batch coming in Feb. My batch last year.

I really do think that the SAF should give us more pay. I can't believe how intense a commander's life can be where every waking moment surrounds the recruit. I honestly did the best that I could. I even dare say that I've been more gungho outfield now than I've ever been. It starts to come alive now, this reality that my boys look up to me for guidance and that God forbid I should ever fail them. This really is a far cry from me before. There's definitely some truth in saying being a father changes a man.

It's lull now. Which means 9th Div had to organise a silly and insipid Family Day which no one wants to attend, only by penalty of death from OC, of course. Yay, let's all put on our trunks and get wet with CO.. Gosh, we could really do with a war around here.

But, I'm happy with this much deserved hiatus. You'd be surprised at the pleasure just lazing around and sleeping can bring. Pure bliss.. sigh.

Ok now, where are those trunks...