Taz's first walk in the park

POEM: Just To Feel You

Just To Feel You
05.07.10

I always dream about you but never when I’m asleep
I’d sometimes stop whatever I’m doing and smile, too.
As you put your arms around me and whisper you are mine to keep
I’d sometimes close my eyes just to feel you.

I sometimes hear your voice when I stare at the wall
I smile to myself and stare at it some more
I think of you all the time that you wouldn’t believe it’s true
That I’d sometimes close my eyes just to feel you.

When my days get too busy to stop and dream of you
I’d lie in bed and close my eyes, forget everything that is true
I don’t want to fall asleep without the dream that will never come true
Because this is the only way I will ever be loved by you.

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Untold
05.07.10

I wish I could have read the last page of our unwritten love story
I wish I could have known the end
Whether it ended happily ever after or whether we ended up apart
I’d probably still give you my heart.

I wish I could have listen to our love song backwards
I wish I could sing along to it too
I don’t mind missing the start and the middle
As long as in the end, it’s still me and you.

Should I leave our story unwritten, our love untold
Maybe I’ll write our song and maybe a novel too
I just really wish I knew how things will unfold
Then maybe I will send this letter off to you.

I wish I could see into the future and hope in vain to see you there
Than looking back at the memories we never had the chance to make
In my heart I know there is so much love at stake
But will you be there with me if I decide the road to you is the one to take?

Needles and Me

Today I had to go back to the hospital for further tests. My appointment letter says I am there for an xray and another ultrasound but when I got there, I was met by a breast surgeon and a nurse who briefed me about the 'procedure' I was about to have. I was terrified when I heard the word 'procedure'.

I have always been scared of needles. Seriously. The first time I have ever crossed the road successfully was when I was 9 years old after escaping from the Dermatology Clinic because they were about to cauterise the viral infection I contacted from the swimming pool we frequented at the time. In elementary I tried running away from the school clinic during the Hepatitis vaccination programme. I would pull my loose milk teeth with a string so my mum would not take me to the dentist to have them taken out. And when I was a bit older I yelled at the student nurses at one hospital when they tried to put me through a drip. I was more concerned of the needle going through my skin than my blood pressure getting dangerously low. If I recall correctly the doctor said it was at 60/50. Yep, it was that bad. My family and friends never did understand how I could easily pierce my belly button and ears.
I had my belly button pierced when I was 15, influenced by the cover girls on FHM magazines that my brother collected. I had to have it re-pierced just a few months later (before it even got the chance to fully heal) after my brother's dog, Rex, jumped on me due to over-excitement. And for a third time when the folder I was holding got caught between the barbell and I pulled it off too fast. I had to wait several weeks until the wound has healed before I could pierce it again. I didn't mind, it inspired me to stay fit. And well, yes I do have six ear piercings , three on each ear. I wanted a helix piercing as well which I never got around to doing and I'm not that bothered about it now so I probably won't be having it done anymore.

Anyway, I'd have any part of my body pierced before I have another biopsy. It was such a horrible experience. The nurse was mighty nice to volunteer to hold my hand and she was ever so concerned. I have a gift. I recognise genuineness. I have a curse too though. I am too empathetic. Today at the hospital both came to me. It happens every time I go to the hospital, which wasn't often at all until I came to the UK. This is why I didn't think I would mind the biopsy so much. Since registering at my local GP, I have had a series of blood tests and several trips to the hospital. The most notable of all was having my Implanon put in and taken out just after five months and that time I went to the hospital for a strange pain in my tummy, the doctor who said she was just going to take blood sample ended up putting me through a drip as well! The supposed short trip to the hospital took about three hours (it would have been five had I not refused to stay for more drip which the lady doctor recommended) because, apparently, I am hypotensive. I have that problem every time I see a doctor. They keep trying to up my blood pressure but it refuses to go any higher than 80/50-odd. No, doctor I don't feel dizzy. Well I didn't but I do now... seeing that big drip needle inside my arm and feeling that cold metal fascinator against my skin.
I am very proud to say that I am no longer scared of going for blood tests. In fact I would have loved to donate blood but they won't allow me to, being hypotensive and all. Perhaps in the future if my blood pressure stabilises, I will definitely donate blood. Right now I'll just be happy to be a registered organ donor.


I was told the last time I was in at the Breast Care Department of the CRH that they are positively certain that all it is Fibroadenoma and I shouldn't worry. The nurse told me that I should get a confirmation letter from my GP in ten days. I did get a letter a week later, all right, but it was no confirmation. Instead it was a letter for further tests, an appointment they made for me today. I always make it a point to apologise to the anaesthetist (or even if it's just the GP or nurse) when I look away when they are still talking me through the procedure I am about to have. Anything that involves a needle (or needles as was the case today) I just look away, and I apologise for doing so in case they think I am ignorant or rude.
I really wasn't prepared for the biopsy today. The letter I got says 'further ultrasound and Xray' so I was quite surprised finding out otherwise. I had to condition my mind and body for a couple of days before getting my belly button pierced, pinching the skin in that area numeral times a day!
I could swear I squeezed the poor nurse's hand too hard. I did apologise as soon as I stopped shaking and shivering.
They gave me another appointment to discuss the biopsy results and my options on Tuesday-week. Fingers crossed they will set my mind at ease once and for all.

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This is me @ the test centre on Sunday.

Germany V Spain

Before the World cup 2010 began, James and I picked our team and put £50 on whoever gets the furthest in the tournament. Of course we wanted England to win it but we both knew that a group of star players crammed into one team is not champion material so he chose Spain and I chose Germany. Now both teams are going to face each other in the semi-finals! It's gonna be fun! I think Casillas is fit as feck but Germany's current set up really works and I hope they will win me 50quid =)

<3 Foxy xXx

REFLECTIONS

On Chapter Three of Gwen Bailey's book, "The Perfect Puppy", she states that:

puppies tend to directly reflect their owner's characters as they mature possibly because they share the same emotional experiences. Any children in the family tend to be reflections of their parents, too. If you were punished a lot as a child and over-controlled, consider what effects this will have on the puppy you are about to raise. If you were brought up in a way that made you extrovert and outgoing how will this affect your puppy? Were your parents always shouting at you in a vain attempt to make you obey, or were they quietly in control?

This made me ponder on whether I am a good enough person to raise such an intelligent and loving creature like Taz. The book said ask yourself questions about what kind of person you are and whether you want your dog to reflect those traits. So what kind of person am I? I'd like to think I am nice, in fact I am really nice to people. I am normally tolerant but I have this invisible line which draws the limit to how much I am willing to tolerate. I know I should back off as soon as a person gets very close to crossing the line but I don't. Instead I let them cross it and when they do I shut off and automatically switch to ignore mode which comes handy. This is my favourite in-built 'Vivien' feature simply because it lets me be myself at all times as I am able to ignore people's opinion of me and how I do things soon after they crossed the line that I have drawn. I know I have said this many times in previous entries but there is only one way to live life and that is 'living it the way it makes you happy'. As long as I am not stepping on other people's dignity and I am not hurting them on purpose then I'll live my life the way I think I should live it. I remember when I was a teenager I told my mother to let me make mistakes and if I am wrong, she is free to tell me 'I told you so'. Perhaps it was just part of my rebellious phase but I just wanted to make my own mistakes as much as I wanted to prove my mother wrong. I don't know if she remembers it but I do. I have a very vivid image of it in my head.

When I was young my mother was never really behind the one thing I loved doing the most: dancing/cheerleading. I started performing in my school at age 9, cheer leading at age 10 and at age 11 I was doing choreography as well. I loved cheerleading rehearsals, making my own pompoms, singing cheer like there is no tomorrow. I looked forward to Christmas parties because I get to perform with my friends in celebration of the most important event of the year. I was at my happiest when I practise for dance competitions and winning is just a bonus. When I got into Holy Angel University, my mum was really chuffed upon learning that I got into the top section, which also belongs to the 'Challenge Sections'. It really just meant our periodical exams were much harder than the rest and most often we have additional sections to answer: Essays and Enumerations for Challenge sections only. Considering the fact that I didn't qualify to take the DepEd scholarship test because our annual household income was too high for the bracket, 'Empathy' was the top section for Freshers at that time and my mum was over-the-moon when I told her that I was classmates with our elementary Valedictorian.

I didn't care about any of those though. I was more concerned about the extra curricular activities that was available and which ones I would like to try out for. There were several dance clubs and I did not have an idea which one I wanted to join so I did not rush into the first day of registration. I remember this girl called Emily who was sat next to me on Religious Studies who told me about TAP (Terpsichorean Angelian Performer) after I mentioned to her my dilemma of which dance troop to join. She said that TAP was the official dance club of the university and that I should try out for it, but warned me that they are very strict. So I gave it a go and out of some 90-odd auditionees, only 11 got through the next stage and I was ecstatic to be one of them! I don't remember telling my mum about it though, I think it's because after 4 years of not getting an encouraging approval from her whenever I join dance contests and cheer leading competitions I soon learned that she wasn't really interested. I didn't tell her when I got chosen to perform during the Quiz Bee to do an intermission number with me being the only Freshman. I didn't tell her that dancing with the Seniors was a big deal . But I did tell her when I got an A+ on a Biology report and when I got chosen to join the International Writing Contest (which I won) because those are the things that pleased her.
But in spite of all this, I was never bitter because she wasn't telling me to stop doing what I liked doing - until Sophie years. I remember when she found out that school year that I went down four sections, she wasn't very happy. In fact she was really disappointed and started telling me to focus on my studies instead of spending 12 hours in the gym practising cheerleading routine. I remember a few times when she got really cross at me for coming home at 10 in the evening from school and when I told her we had cheerleading practice because the competition is in two days, she did not believe me. Instead she and my dad thought I was elsewhere doing things I shouldn't ie smoking, drinking, drugs. I don't remember if I said something smart like 'if you bother watching me perform, perhaps you wouldn't think such bad stuff about me'. I probably didn't but I most probably thought it.
That's when it got messy, I ran away from home, came back after a few months and then I got sent to my black sheep brother as a punishment. He lived in a shack with communal toilet, he did not have a job and neither did his wife and they had two children at the time. They now have 5 and neither still have a job.
On Gwen Bailey's book she mentions that punishment won't do the puppy any good, and neither would the owner benefit from it. I am lucky to have a strong personality that is not easily tainted and not easily influenced. Living with my brother and the way he chose to live his life made me realise what kind of person I did not want to be but I saw the punishment pointless because the life I was leading didn't go anywhere near that, instead it just gave my brother a chance to take money from my mum - she just encouraged him to free-ride once again.
That is like a golden rule in raising a well behaved puppy to grow into a well behaved dog: encourage the good behaviour rather than punish the bad ones. I realise this is not easy because it is so much easier to punish a bad behaviour and often it's almost like reflex. But I am finding myself gaining more patience and understanding, gradually if you like, but heading that direction nonetheless. Taz makes me happy and to be a better person for him is the least I could do to ensure his own happiness, too. Isn't that what love is, no matter the source? It should make you want to be a better person.

I am not comparing the way my mum chose to raise me and the way I am raising my puppy as I recognise the big difference. I realise that there is more at stake in raising a child than raising a puppy. But the intention is the same: to bring up the best in you in someone else. My mum had other children apart from me and both my sister and brother were in university at the time I chose to rebel and I have another brother who has completely lost his way and just refused to take the right path. We all have given up on him. How can one help someone who refuses to help himself? To top it all off, she was dealing with a husband who decided he was going to be a drunk and spend hundred of thousands in hospital bills.
Only when I got older did I realise all these things. My mother could not have done anything better than her best, that is all we could do isn't it? Our best.
If you look at it from one angle you would say she could have done better. But she lived a hexagonal life - each side represented her family and her career and the only fair way to judge her is by looking at all those sides.

Already Taz is a reflection of ME. But what's funny is that he reflects the person I truly am - without my inhibitions. When it's just Taz and me in the house I am at my most confident, at my happiest. He is sometimes stubborn and have his own ideas on how things should be done and when they should be done and I am working on those negative traits. I need to be the dominant one or he is going to boss me around and that is no fun for when he is a full grown dog he will be heavier and stronger than me.
He is very friendly with the neighbours, he likes to play and have fun but he likes to have time alone now and again. He loves attention and is a very happy puppy. He is very affectionate and is a joy to be around. He is also very intelligent but that is kudos to his breed not me.

Maybe Gwen Bailey is right about the puppies but I don't know about parent-children bit. I am not a reflection of my mum, let alone my dad.

My mum is very quiet and shy. I am NOT.
She likes being on her own I guess because her chosen career demands a lot of quiet time alone. I get pretty depress when I don't get enough socialisation.
My mum likes staying in. I love going clubbing or bar hopping and dancing the night away. My mum doesn't dance and she doesn't sing.
I like karaoke and I used to sing in school. I even joined a singing contest when I was 6.
I am very frank and sometimes tactless. My mum is quite the diplomat.
She tends to care about what other people think. I just couldn't be bothered.
She makes delicious food but is not really too keen on experimenting in the kitchen. I have a long list of stuff I want to try in the kitchen, making homemade fondant is on top of it at the moment.
I am quite adventurous and curious and neither traits has been evident in my mum unless she just never had the chance to show it.
I talk a lot while my mum is quite timid.
I'm an absolute animal lover and my mum is not too keen on them.
My mum leans more toward conservative and what can I say I am very liberal. And I don't mean US Politics.

I don't believe that children are reflections of their parents. Or maybe I am just an exception to the rule. Was I that rebellious that the core of my personality is nothing like the woman who raised me? After some thorough thinking I concluded that I am no exception to any rule. The woman who raised me is strong-willed. But she was also brave in a silent way which somewhat became her downfall. I turned into a strong-willed daughter just like her, strong-willed enough to be my own person. Strong-willed enough to stray a bit away from the tree but brave, in an outspoken way, to not make the same mistakes as she did and to live a life more fun-filled and adventurous than that of which she did not have the chance to live being a mother at a young age.

Yes, we are all reflections of our parents. Some will try to deny it, some will resist and some will easily surrender to the idea. But at the end of the day it doesn't matter. If we work with what we have and view the negativities with optimism, we will get to appreciate ourselves more; whether we turned ourselves into something our parents were not because we didn't like what they were or decided they are so brilliant that we want to be exactly like them, it all comes down to one thing: in one way or another, our parents influences and moulds the person we have become.