The Avocation (A 20 Facts Special)

Three: Obligatory Parasites

"Live in this world as if you were a stranger or a traveller on a path."

- Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him)

Shortly after my parents signed the consent forms for Dian and I while we filled out other details, I had quit writing to study Geography full-time. It was something subconscious; I could never really tell how I managed to pen, express my emotions after that. I must have channelled everything into Geography that I lost balance of my other interests. At junior college, I had four other subjects that were compulsory as well, including another favourite, Biology, but of course, they were never as interesting. I took advantage of every piece of geography assignment we were given. It was almost as if I was a geography freak. But that didn't matter.

For the first time in my life I put a new list of coordinates for the future - a career in environmental science. For a long time, that list only included: accountancy, which made a brief appearance because I was fairly good at math; allied health, because I was enlightened and touched by a full-day work attachment I had at Singapore General Hospital and some weekends of observation at a neighbourhood clinic; and finally, writing as a stable retirement plan.

At the time, I felt like a superhero. I topped some classes for blocks - I felt invincible. Things were falling into place -

Until something pulled me back.

At first I thought it was just the ordinary cold, flu, cough, sore throat - the usual procedure was to save money and finish the medication we had at home. Pills after pills, it never got better. It got a lot worse.

On a warm evening of May 2014, I caught a terrible case of pharyngitis.

The fever shot up to 40°C.

Illnesses had always been one of my greatest fears. I had fantasised about being a doctor once, and being on the other side of the table was a nightmare altogether. And considering I still had four more days to the long awaited South Korea trip, this was a catastrophe.

For days I was in and out of reality. I lay in my mother's bed, where she would play recorded Quran verses in the middle of the night and sponge me whenever my temperature rose because I refused to be sent to the hospital.

In the pit of stomach there was a disarray of emotions - for one I was frustrated that I wasn't getting better. Then I was mad because it was possible that Dian could go to South Korea and enjoy herself while I stayed home. Then I was confused of whom to blame because I used science to explain my condition; in a note to self:

Technically it isn't the bacteria's fault because they were just overtaken by a virus. And it isn't the virus' fault because they're obligatory parasites. Every time I feel like vomiting, I cough instead. I get agitated by the smallest kind of smells and lose my appetite easily. My throat hurts whenever I want to say anything, so don't make me speak. Don't make me do anything.

I knew there was no way I was going to South Korea. I just couldn't accept it.