Dear Dreams – Page 249

Totally burnt out, depressed and devastated

I’m so worn out and my most inner soul is burnt. I haven’t come to this depressed state that I feel as if I’m going to break down any moment.

Maybe I’ve been too happy-go-lucky these days that I put myself together when the problem arouses. It’s the greatest setback after so long. I’ve tried my best; I’m so devastated of my energy.

This morning, the greatest thing was to see Staff Quek at the Spec Mess. He was finally back after such a long holidays and I believed everything would be back to order. Also, he would most probably help me in my volleyball invasion.

Yes he did after I told him roughly about it and he helped me sign the off pass immediately and I gladly left the camp and even caught the bus 927 right on time at the interchange. Everything was going smoothly before 007 called me and I’d to alight at the end of expressway and take another two buses to get back to camp.

007 was nowhere to be found and I went down to have a chat with Staff Quek and he promised to help me. I was already prepared to face the music, too used to it, being reasonable or unreasonable, camp’s life sucked like that. However, my main concern was whether I could continue with the game a not.

The cause of missing a training session was far too great for I hadn’t trained for so long. I needed so much more practises to recap all the skill and also to build back all my confidence that was really important.

At least 007 didn’t scream at me. Together with Staff Quek, we’d a long talk and finally came to an agreement that I’d to get a memo from the MO or physiotherapist to prove my physical condition was able to make it.

I made a call to MMI to look for Kenneth and he told me Ms Archana was on two weeks overseas leave. Whereas the MO who had refused to write the memo some weeks ago was on leave for a day too.

It was a moment of helpless, where even the immoral didn’t seem to be able to help. I approached many people, like the warrant officer in charge of the formation team who couldn’t do anything.

It was near the end of world. The depression had brought my months of smiley face back to the grave. My hope, dream and fantasize were on the edge of execution.

CPT Phua had a talk with me but my mouth was frozen by then. There were too many things to say, however, too voiceless to sound out.

This day, I was too tired of everything – smiling, laughing and joking – but I couldn’t give up.

What's Your True Color?

Chan, your true color is Green!
You’re green, the color of growth and vigor. Good-hearted and giving, you have a knack for finding and bringing out the best in people. Green is the most down-to-earth color in the spectrum — reliable and trustworthy. People know they can count on you to be around in times of need, since your concern for people is genuine and sincere. You take pride in being a good friend. For you, success is measured in terms of personal achievement and growth, not by status or position. Rare as emeralds, greens are wonderful, natural people. It truly is your color!
(gone with the wind!)

Christmas 2005

It’s just a festival, an excuse for friends to gather, for fun and to release stress.

Every year it’s still the same, going out with the same group of friends, except the faces are somehow different; people just walk in and out of our lives.

This year, I thought I was going to stay at home until Mingfa called me. I tried to get more people like Kachua and Jinyang who had already had their own appointments, whereas Guoxin claimed he didn’t know the rest well and I stopped probing him.

It was a short notice and then Mingfa suddenly messaged me that I’d to get a present for gifts exchange. After lazing around, I started cracking and finally bought an umbrella, which exceeded the budget.

Moving about slowly and preparing to be late for more than half an hour since Weitat usually wouldn’t arrive until two hours after the meeting time, this time I was wrong. Perhaps, they might have met up earlier before going there.

Dinner was Long John Silver’s at IMM. We slacked around waiting for others and then took the shuttle bus to Jurong East MRT and proceeded to Somerset, where we had fun taking photos. When all the thirteen of us were there, we moved to Cuppage for karaoke.

Gifts exchange was at twelve sharp. I got jewellery for girls and Meijun exchanged her pillow with me. We continued with the singing and photo taking until half of us were falling asleep.

Partying during festival season could be costly like up to $28 each person. We left the place with pocket torn at around three in the morning. I gave a call to Ruoci and realised she had abandoned us again. After a visit to the Seven-eleven store, the breads cured me from my gastric pain.

We proceeded on towards Lau Pa Sat by foot and it took us around an hour to reach there. I’d a plate of chicken chop. It was quite nice except that the paper plate didn’t have any divider to prevent the fries from being wetted and the paper fork wasn’t sharp enough.

Everyone started to leave soon and we didn’t go to Fullerton One as planned. Anyway, just when I was about to leave with Weitat and his two thirteen-years-old friends, it started to pour heavily.

We boarded the first bus and the pillow saved me from being drenched badly.

Milk the keyboard

When the milk spilled over the keyboard, it was time to call upon the technician Mr Chan.

The keyboard had totally lost its control over the windows though the light was still on.

The connector was removed from the back of the CPU and the windows hung. Since this was predicted with the loose motherboard, the draft document was saved before anything was done.

The buttons were removed and placed accordingly to the arrangement on the keyboard. After some wiping of the under parts of the buttons, each button was dipped into a bowl of clean water and dried before fixing them back into the keyboard.

At this point of time, there were finally some reactions upon hitting the buttons; however, it seemed to have gone insane. The caps lock was on and off randomly and the output were different from the pressed buttons.

As the keyboard was lifted up, milk dripped down and it proved that the inner body was floated. Since the keyboard had no mouth, no CPR could be performed and therefore it had to go for operation immediately.

There were ten over screws at the back. After unscrewing them and removing the cover, the chip made of kind of plastic material with metallic things on the surface was dried up.

The rubbers that connected the buttons and the chip were removed and put into a new bowl of water. After a quick drying them, they were placed into the holes and then another wiping was done to make them drier.

As the cover was being fixed back, the last screw dropped into one of the hollow part and couldn’t be taken out. Therefore, another unscrewing and screwing process was carried out.

Finally the keyboard was in condition good enough to display some typing. It seemed perfectly alright until the “C” button was pressed and shown not working. So, the button was removed and the rubber beneath it was adjusted and then it started to work.

Everything was fine until when some buttons were pressed, the “D” character was included in the output. The buttons were removed and the rubbers were adjusted. The problem improved but certainly too little to decease the number of “backspace” I had to use.

Just when I thought it was a hellish day, I realised both the “Ctrl” buttons didn’t work. Nothing seemed wrong on the left button but the right one was flat. The button was removed and there wasn’t any rubber beneath it. Conclusion was that the rubber had moved out of the position during the fixing of the cover.

Since it was a long and tedious process again to remove the screws at the back and fixing it back, and the keyboard might not actually work properly after that, the technician gave up.

My elder brother passed me another old keyboard when he returned.

Denial of eligibility

It’s a game of wits, courage and determination.

When I asked 007 if Clement had emailed him the details about the formation volleyball, which Clement told me he had, 007 denied it.

Next was the same evil scheme again, using my physiotherapy appointments as an excuse to further deny my eligibility for the game.

The festival had put my brain in a halted condition again, together with the tiredness caused by the swim earlier on, and the thought of not spoiling the good day cut off further debate.

I too have to agree it doesn’t sound very logical for an injured man to be involved in the game, but does it mean that I’ve to stop all exercise? The only condition so far to hurt me is to carry heavy and bulky things, and not by playing any sport.

The MO doesn’t want to downgrade me and thus I’ve to go for all activities. He refuses to write a memo to certify I’m fit for the game because he insists my pes status has made it clear that I’m eligible.

Since I’ve taken my Range, IPPT tests and have been heavily involved in all the shifting of equipments in camp and no superior has taken pity of me or push them away for my injuries, why are they stopping me from playing volleyball?

In camp, I’ve been doing more than my part, though no superior would look at it. As for attendance wise, I haven’t been taking MC even when I fall very sick.

If I’m not given my rights or the heads are not supportive, I’m going my own way; if my respect for them is not being appreciated, I shall not be polite anymore; if rules are meant to be broken, I shall not hesitate to break them.

Peaceful day

This morning I woke up in peace. It was a bit later than usual as I was going to MMI (Military Medical Institute) instead of camp. I was early but I had a long wait even though I was the first patient.

I was supposed to go for traction for my back before a review for my knees but the machine was down. Miss Archana suggested I go for the gym sessions first but I turned them down since I didn’t want to have more appointments and so I’d wait for more than two weeks for the servicing men to do their jobs.

As I was telling her the history of my knees, I seemed to have problems communicating in English. After all the typing, she finally started doing tests on me. She thought my knee had got nothing to do with Osgood Schlatter disease, though the SGH specialist claimed otherwise. She tried to bend my legs and realised they were extremely tight, and I could feel the tension too when I was in my most relaxed mood.

She had the most evil way to provoke my right knee and it gave me pains whereas the left one didn’t give me much problem. It wasn’t the end of her conclusion as she was too professional to understand that both my knees would give me hell lots of problems only after I exerted them. Therefore, I’d to go for some tests during the next appointment. She had also pointed out a shocking fact that my left calf was bigger even though I had right master leg. She had also noticed about the lump on my left calf and she suggested I go for some scanning.

I’d a long wait again to get my next appointment booked and it was Kenneth who called for me, else I might not have enough time for lunch. I went back to Chua Chu Kang and was thinking of going back to camp for lunch but time didn’t permit. I also had a craving for the western food in the food court but I decided not to enjoy it when I was so lonely and in rush of time. Instead, I went for the budgeted Long John Silver’s since I didn’t want to kill more brain cells to think of what to eat. My dear “sister” from 2SIG passed by in her lively smiles with some friends but she didn’t notice me.

I’d more than twenty-five minutes of wait for bus 927 in the cold rainy weather, but still managed to arrive first at Mandai camp. The hall was so nice and the lighting was so good except for the problematic poles. We wasted so much time setting the net up.

I was glad that Weichong was present this time; however, the present of another older SAFSA player turned me quieter. They wanted me to be the setter during the free spike session and I fumbled it up. I wasn’t used to be in the centre of attention.

Finally I was able to spike. I’d problems getting back my timing, however, was calm enough to get all the balls over. I was then told to aim for positions and it was the first time someone said my wrist was good.

Throughout the whole training, I was quite motivated and took very little rest. Even when the training had ended, I was still trying to make use of every second to practise. I could only pray for height wasn’t a problem and my determination could earn me back my rusted skill.

I took a free ride on Bryan’s car to Khati MRT station and realised he was quite a nice guy. Just when everything was so smooth, I realised I couldn’t get my off pass signed for the next Tuesday morning’s training since the office was closed on the next few days.

A long holidays

Finally it’s kind of a long weekends for me. The best thing is that I need not step into camp for the next five days.

I’m having physiotherapy session tomorrow in the morning. This time I’d definitely get more advises for my knees, finally, from the MMI physiotherapist. Actually I’ve seen Kian Wee’s legs and they look worse than mine, but they don’t give him any pain anymore. And also, I’m going to get my butts burnt again during the traction and I hope the torture would aid me in reducing the pain at my back.

The formation volleyball training presumes next. This time, however, I’m going there alone for Kian Wee has withdrawn from the training. Sing Wei has medical appointment in the afternoon and Clement is having overseas leave. The last hope for a familiar and friendly face is CPT Phua, who seems to be busy. The worst thing is the cramp that has left endless pain on my calves since the previous day’s training, makes me lose hope for tomorrow’s training, which I can’t perform again.

The following day is the TRMS outing and we’re going to Rehan’s house instead of camp. Though I’ll be having fun with many nice people, not everyone is very pleasant.

Next are Christmas Eve and the holidays. It’s good to be able to relax.

Unmovable

The pain strike so suddenly that I almost dropped on the floor completely; I was paralysed on both legs, looking worse off a beggar. The torments and tears rounded me up, and I just wished for an instant death.

It was just the beginning of the training and my enthusiasm was fiery hot. CPT Phua was on leave and therefore, I was put as a setter temporary. Having a blister on my right thumb, I couldn’t get the feeling right, however, was calm enough to get most of the balls to place.

We were training on defence and I was supposed to take all the second balls. All of them were taller than me, could be better spikers, but some of their digging made me run around as if I was in flames. I didn’t know my limit.

By the time I could practise on my spiking – dig, set and spike in pairs – the moment I jumped, both my calves seemed to be disabled. It was the worst cramp I had ever had.

I was in a half squat position, couldn’t move at all. Everyone came over to help me up and then they decided sitting down was a better position while they pushed my feet towards me. I was in more sweat than ever, trying hard to endure the hellish blessed pain. After some time, my embarrassment finally ended as I moved to the side.

I sat down there to stretch myself, but to no avail. It was totally useless when the pain had lasted too long and my muscle was injured that I couldn’t recover in anytime soon.

The day was somehow not being utilised properly and I sighed for it. That was long I last had a proper training. It took me so much troubles and music to get there to train and to display my leftover abilities, so much that I had to abandon my friends in camp to finish up the rest of the work.

Alas, I was still very happy to be involved in the training with the friendly people. I was halfway through my journey to my dreams. It wasn’t smooth but the aids and supports from my camp-mates were remarkable and touching.

Throughout these days of struggling to the inter-signals competition and this training, Kian Wee was a great companion. For all the care and concern he had bestowed on me, I couldn’t stop praising.

I had a great ride on his dad’s lorry this day from Mandai camp to Punggol MRT station. I loved how the wind hit on my face when I tucked my head out facing the front. We had over taken so many other lorries and even normal cars and it kept me in wonder if his dad was blasting the accelerator or the other vehicles were imitating the speed of military vehicles at the expressway. The cool weather kept my mood so high.

I’m looking forward to play with Tze Khit and Weitat in the inter-formation game at the fine Mandai camp’s court; such that I’ve to try hard to get into the main team. Next goal is to prove to my ex-BMT-mates that it’s possible to get attached out for months for the SAFSA team.

Not gastric problem?

Life tends to be better in camp without people who always plays hide-and-seek and often causes us troubles; or maybe it’s because there haven’t been many lessons.

Our bonds are getting stronger each day, although all the bad habits are still there. There’re still too much of slacking and the shits are left behind for those who’re more hardworking. Again, why should we care when the I/C doesn’t even care?

It has been so peaceful that the upcoming huge number of new trainees is frightening me off. It’s going to be so busy again and new craps will emerge soon.

There was this guy in smart four wearing sandals, waiting for his unorganised platoon being punished, to march to his spot for lunch. We were walking towards him and I was curious and asked him was that his platoon and he replied me “Yes sir!” It was that moment I felt being promoted and I paused and looked at my shoulder before I continued “Huh?” and he said “Yes sir” again. I wasn’t trying to disturb him, but wanted to tell him something, which I had already forgotten after the joke he created.

I went for medical appointment for my gastric problem. I dozed off while waiting and then woke up for some time, long enough for me to doze off again.

The specialist, Ankul Patel, impressed me with his humorous character at such hour that it was nearly time to knock off and yet there were so many patients waiting. His accent was the big problem, which I couldn’t really catch.

However, he seemed more professional than all the previous specialist and he suspected my pain wasn’t due to gastric problem. His analysis sounded logical but now I’d to go for another x-ray scanning. It wasn’t good for I was going to miss more actions in camp, which mean more accusation.

After which, I went to collect another three months of medicine supply for my injuries. In fact, I was only interested in the anti-inflammatory plaster, not all the useless pain-killers. I was given a different brand of plaster – Ketotop – so cool shiny packaging! The quality of the cloth seemed better as well.

When it's nearer

I never expect it to be so soon, that I’m being called up for the inter-formation training for Signals. However, it’s weird that many people are involved.

There’re too many problems that I’m facing and of course the most critical one is my injuries. I can never spike when my back is aching or strengthless, which is after carrying of heavy or bulky stuffs, or being in an awkward or unsupported position for a period of time. The aching would last for at least two days, whereas the weakness like as if I’ve just sprained my back can last more than a week.

I can’t see properly due to my astigmatism and it causes me to react slower; I can’t play when the floor is slippery, that I can’t even stand firmly to lock my hands together.

Of all, the lack of practise has already turned me into a newbie, together with the common epidemic in NS, drives my confident level down, to a stage that I can’t get into the game anymore.

What comes next is the verbal abuse from people who are jealous of my absence from the camp or think I haven’t been suffering enough being taken granted of my kindness.

So, I’ve to persist on, struggling with all the concern from my worthy friends, pushing towards limits. For them I’m touched, I’m truly aware of friendship.