Just before Mass.

At today�s Sunset Mass, the Cathedral of the Holy Spirit played host to the launching of the Jubilee Year from August 2004 to August 2005. The Penang Diocese celebrates the fiftieth years of its formation. The Golden Jubilee Celebration is a momentous occasion for the Diocese which encompasses the states of Perlis, Kedah, Penang, Perak and Kelantan.

The Bishop obliging with a pose.

The Cathedral was filled with roses of all shades for this occasion. There was only standing room as the Cathedral was packed to the brim with parishioners wanting to be a part of this beautiful event. Bishop Antony Selvanayagam, Monsignor Stephen Liew and a mass of Fathers and Religious from different Orders of the Roman Catholic Church were there to witness and celebrate the event with the laity.

Homily by the Bishop.

I missed the beginning part of the Mass as I could not find a place to park my wheelchair in the crowded Cathedral. Then my cousin Mary found me a spot where I could see the altar, the projector screen and follow Mass. Towards the end of the Mass, I met fellow blogger Lucia of Mental Jog for the first time. A while later, while I was wheeling to get a better view, the digital camera slipped from my lap and dropped onto the floor. The fall broke the catch of the battery cover. The cover cannot be shut tightly and the camera kept flashing the battery exhausted message. Now I wonder how I can get it repaired.

Our Lady of Jubilee.

In conjunction with this auspicious event, the Pilgrim Statue of Our Lady of Jubilee was unveiled by the Bishop and was heralded by the blowing of the horns. This statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary and Boy Jesus was conceptualised by Father Michael Cheah. They were given a local flavour with Mary and Jesus wearing clothes with an indigenous theme. Mass ended with a rapturous performance by the choir singing the Jubilee Theme Song.

It is difficult to find the opportunity to chat with William. He usually logs into ICQ after midnight. I will usually be in bed and asleep at that hour. A few days ago, those rare times when I was still online after midnight, we had the opportunity to catch up again. We started to talk about my previous entry Cure for Spinal Cord Injury. He told me, “Honestly until today I still believe one day you will stand up and walk.”

It is really nice that someone I have met only a handful of times telling me that he is still bearing the hope that I will walk again some day. What William knew about me was from the chats that we had many years ago and those few times that we had met, either in Kuala Lumpur or Penang. Although I have long given up the notion of ever walking again, what he said got me thinking.

What will it feel like to be able to walk again – without equipment, unsupported and under my own strength? The perspective certainly will be different. I have a metal frame that helps me stand and parallel bars that I use for my walking exercises. Whenever I stood up, everything looked unlike those from the viewpoint while sitting down. But that is different. I am confined by the length of the parallel bars and the stationary frame. To be able to stand up and walk around and see things from a different view will be a totally new experience. Things that used to be out of reach will no longer be so. I will be like a kid who has suddenly grown two feet. The sights will be so very fascinating from just two feet higher. Believe me. It will be like being in a new world altogether.

And I do not have to talk to groins and breasts. Two of my cervical vertebras were fused together to strengthen the fractured one. This has severely limited the rotation of my head. Ideally while talking to a person on a wheelchair, one should kneel beside him so that the conversation can be carried out at the eye-to-eye level but most do not. They just stand there and expect me to look up to their face. I have talked to tall men. I have talked to well-endowed women. It can be embarrassing when my eyes are always fixed onto those intimate parts while chatting with them. I did not mean to. I could not help it. The movement of my head is restricted. What am I supposed to do?

What will be the things that I will do when I can walk again? I will walk into the House of God and kneel down and pray and praise and thank Him for that miracle. And then I will pay my respects to Mum and Dad for giving me life and for giving me hope when all seemed lost. And then I will take Wuan to the beach and walk and walk and walk and watch the sun set and rise again together. And then walk some more. I will take her to all my favourite spots and hiking trails and be in communion with Nature, just the two of us. And then walk some more.

If I get back the use of my hands as well, I will get a guitar and serenade her with some of our favourite songs from Bee Gees to Eagles to Whitney Houston. Yes, we are from that era. And then I will cook for her with my own hands. And yes, I will do the cartwheel, just for her. The cartwheel thing is from an e-card that she had sent to me many years ago. I have long forgotten what the content of the card was but it had greatly encouraged and amused me at the same time. Yes, I will do many cartwheels, just for Wuan. And then I will go to Kuala Lumpur and paint the town red with William. It is good to have dreams like that to keep the hopes alive. Thank you, William, for igniting that aspiration in me again.

The photo above is one of those few taken my before my accident. My classmates and I were on the way back from Pantai Kerachut. We were caught in the rain. I am on the right. Pantai Kerachut is one of my favourite beaches. It used to be isolated and pristine. To reach the beach, one has to hike a 4km trail beginning from the Teluk Bahang fishing village.

The hills of Gertak Sanggul and Bukit Genting in the background.

Things have been moving rather slowly this week. Rain that fell in the early days of the week washed away the haze. For a while, I could see the hills of Gertak Sanggul and Bukit Genting, which is the farthest range of hills visible from my window. Since then, the weather has been warm. The trees stood still. My curtains looked lifeless. Surprisingly, lethargy did not set in. Still, I felt rather languid. I have not done much except surfed, stalked blogs and took naps. Every time I napped, I awoke feeling more worn-out than before.

Today is different. Streams of cool breeze have been blowing since early morning. The curtains are flapping in glee. A while ago, I could hear my neighbours’ unfastened doors slamming shut from the occasional strong winds. The trees outside are swaying merrily, their pliable leaf laden branches bending to and fro in acquiescence. Nature is alive! And I feel alive too. Is it the continuous soothing breeze or was it the multivitamins I took after lunch that made me feel so?

The boredom of the whole week was lifted by one piece of interesting news. On Thursday, while I was Googling for “spinal cord injury” and “Malaysia” I came across this page. It was a feature on Christopher Reeve and his unprecedented recovery after being paralysed for five years. No, he is not walking again. However, he has regained some sensation and can twitch his index finger which is a wonder after so many years. That story was not what caught my attention. The comment that was left below that article did.

In our Malaysia Boleh spirit, we have finally found the cure for spinal cord injury. This regeneration process which has eluded neuro-scientists for many decades is now conclusively in our hands. Malaysia is indeed the land of possibilities. This anak Malaysia has made us all proud. Will I submit myself to this treatment? I tell you, the day Christopher Reeve walks after this traditional treatment is the day pigs can fly. When you see pigs flying by your window, you can be sure I will be the first to call Mr. Wan for an appointment.

Kampung road in Permatang Pasir, Balik Pulau.

Every morning, I have to drag myself out of bed. Excuses, reasons, goals – whatever it was needed that would persuade myself that it was going to be a beautiful day. Everyday is a Monday, except Sundays. Every morning is a test of my commitment to go on living fruitfully. Like everyone else, I have to toil through each day, maybe even more than most, looking for a purpose to justify my existence. I look at my clawed hands and atrophied legs and wondered how much I could possibly accomplish for that particular day with such inadequacies. My mind is always playing tricks on me. I feel pain where I should not and do not feel where I really should.

Twice a day, I have to remember to take my medication one hour before meals which I often forget. Very frequently, I allow only one half hour to pass before eating because my blood glucose level had dropped significantly and I was in frantic need to replenish it. Five times a day, I stick a rubber tube up where it should be most receptive to pain to make sure my damaged kidneys do not become any worse. And I stick other stuff up other places to ensure that my body is able to function as normally as it should. Life should not be like this.

Little devils relentlessly swirl around my head, whispering sweet temptations and delicious transgressions that would make me an anathema to my faith and offend the accepted sense of decency. Perhaps that was a weakness born purely out of my own unbridled desires. Everyday I struggle to be a good Christian but somehow I never fail to falter several times before the day is over. Sometimes it was not of my own doing. Sometimes I had allowed myself to be led into it. Other times, I had wilfully and knowingly violated the code. That clearly illustrates the depth of my spirituality and how easily I can be led astray despite the vows I had so resoundingly affirmed during my baptism.

Despite what I have written previously, I am not as strong as I had consciously or unconsciously portrayed myself to be. I struggle to keep my faith unsullied. I get depressed more often than I should. I still do feel sorry for myself for not being able to do the things that I used to love to do. I am still looking for a purpose in life. I am prone to bouts of melancholy and indolence. If anyone should think I am an inspiration, I call on them to think again. I am definitely no role model for those who seek to find hints of noteworthy traits in my character that had been tempered by the hard times that I had traversed. I constantly fail in my endeavours. I still have not triumphed over this adversity that has befallen on me. My life is dotted with too many question marks for me to make meaningful forward plans. I live one day at a time in order not to let the drudgeries of tomorrow weigh me down. That is all I can do. And if I did inspire, it surely must have been the invisible hands of God at work, inspiring me to write what I wrote.

Of all the more common ingredients used in Chinese cooking, I like fish maw best. In soups, steamed or stir fried, it titillates my appetite no end. By itself, it is almost tasteless but cook it with other ingredients and it is just heavenly. I like its sponginess which is slightly firm when chewed. Fish maw is the air bladder of large fishes. It is deep fried to puff it up to several times from its initial size. Before cooking, I deep fry it again to expand its size even more, soak it in water and then squeeze out the excess oil that was absorbed.

I cooked fish maw soup today together with cabbage, carrots, sengkuang, gingko nuts, Shiitake mushrooms and straw mushrooms. As I had not anticipated that I would cook this soup, no soup stock ingredients were bought. One teaspoon of Knorr ikan bilis seasoning powder was added instead for taste. The soup was left to simmer for forty five minutes. The lack of soup stock probably made the soup taste bland. Soy sauce was added to make it tastier. Also, I did not add meat balls. Meat balls are usually pork, prawns and water chestnut minced together. For dinner, the soup was simmered for another twenty minutes. It tasted sweet and nice. I guess it would have tasted nice even without soup stock if I had simmered it longer.

Photo courtesy of Marita Paige

Today is also a memorable day for me. Marita Paige and her Mom baked a cake in Mum’s memory and for me. It was an Orange Cake. Mum used to like baking butter cake and sometimes added orange juice for flavour. I am sure she would have loved this cake. I have only gotten to know Marita recently. She had read my blog and she said it made her cry. We began to chat and she said she would bake a cake for me and in the memory of Mum. Thank you Marita and her Mom for such a beautiful thought. I truly appreciate the effort.