With all the recent happenings on bird flu, brings to mind, 'bird brain' or the IQ of a chicken.
Where I grew up as a boy, families would rear chicken in the backyard. Cycling along the road, I would see chicken scratching by the wayside. Often I would hit a stone or a hole which would alarm the chicken. Hearing the noise, the startled chicken would immediately run smack into my wheel. I will then see a flattened chicken askewed between the spokes, head and feet splayed in a most grotesque manner. Stupid chicken! It will run straight into the noise instead of away from it. Is this what chicken-hearted mean?
When I was doing survival training in the air force, we were divided into small teams. On the beach one day, we were given a live chicken each team for lunch. The task of killing the chicken and cooking it fell on me. How do you kill a live chicken? Someone in another team decided to lop the chicken's head off. The chicken took off with several guys running after it! Question: where is the chicken's brain?
With a stick, I decided to carve out a little canal on the sand. Placing the chicken's neck on the canal, I placed a stick across the neck. Stepping on both ends of the stick, I grabbed the chicken's legs and gave a mighty heave. Without any sound, the chicken went limp and the legs turned cold. Next, I ripped the feathers and skin off the whole chicken and emptied all the entrails into a pit. The head, backside and feet went as well, and the lot buried in the sand. The chopped up chicken was placed inside a mess tin with a little water and two cubes of crushed OXO cubes. To seal in the chicken, masking tape was put round the sides and the whole mess tin placed inside a make-shift oven. The oven was nothing more than a hole previously dug on the ground with stones placed inside and a big fire started. After a few hours of burning, the stones became white hot. Covering the mess tin with these hot stones, the whole thing was buried under the sand. The site was of course marked with two sticks like a cross. Some team forgot to mark the site and at lunch time, could not find the chicken. Poor guys spent the afternoon digging the beach for their chicken!
During my flying days, I used to drop supplies to the troops in the jungle. Live chickens were dropped. Each crate would hold up to 250 pounds of live chicken. When the chickens were first crated up, they were all alive. When the crate arrived at the airfield, about 5% of the chicken would have died of stress and noise. After the crate has been loaded on to the aircraft, another 5% would have died of heart failure. During the drop, if everything went off well, the crate and the surviving chicken would make it to the cooking pot. If the parachute failed to open, a situation called 'candle' (like a white candle), the crate would smash to the ground. The situation became very hilarious when all the men on the ground would start to chase and catch the live chicken. I did such a drop for the Gurkhas, when we had a 'candle'. All the Gurkhas on the ground pulled their kukries and started to chopped at the flapping chickens. No sense giving the chickens to the terrorists. Which is more stupid - a chicken or a turkey?
Till then....
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
"I come to shave you, Sir"
One of the most embarrassing thing about preparing for surgery, is the shaving around your groin area. When I was being prepared for surgery in RAF Cosford Hospital in the UK, a male orderly carried out the job in a bathroom. Conscious of shaving an officer on the most private anatomy, the orderly engaged me in a serious conversation about the Japanese occupation. Half way through the precedure, he decided to hand me the razor to finish the job myself, sparing me of further embarrassment. I thought it was very decent of the chap.
When I had my gall bladder removed, now in a civilian hospital, the male nurse came to my room and asked to shave me. I thought that was odd because my gall bladder was no where near my groin. Anyway the chap insisted he had to shave so I let him shave. I felt rather foolish about that.
This time round when I was being prepared for my hernia operation, a Filipina male nurse, immaculately dressed in his green uniform came to my room and asked, "I come to shave you, Sir". He was very pleasant about it. Then he asked me which side will the operation be. I told him on the right side. Then he told me, " I will shave only the right side, Sir". I thought it was odd and stopped myself from laughing. Then I told him he might as well shave both sides. I thought that if he had shaved me only one side, when the surgeon lifts up the cover, he would end up on the floor in hysterics! That could be pandemonium in the operating theatre with everyone laughing. How embarrassing!
Till then....
When I had my gall bladder removed, now in a civilian hospital, the male nurse came to my room and asked to shave me. I thought that was odd because my gall bladder was no where near my groin. Anyway the chap insisted he had to shave so I let him shave. I felt rather foolish about that.
This time round when I was being prepared for my hernia operation, a Filipina male nurse, immaculately dressed in his green uniform came to my room and asked, "I come to shave you, Sir". He was very pleasant about it. Then he asked me which side will the operation be. I told him on the right side. Then he told me, " I will shave only the right side, Sir". I thought it was odd and stopped myself from laughing. Then I told him he might as well shave both sides. I thought that if he had shaved me only one side, when the surgeon lifts up the cover, he would end up on the floor in hysterics! That could be pandemonium in the operating theatre with everyone laughing. How embarrassing!
Till then....
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
"It's all over!"
"It's all over!". The words echoed in my head as I struggled to wake up from my anesthesia. Overcome with drowsiness, all the talking and noise seemed to come in waves of wakefulness. As the nurses called my name to wake me up, I made a final attempt to open my eyes and gave a grunt for a response. Looking around me, I found myself in the recovery room of the operating theatre.
Earlier on, I had climbed on to the trolley and was wheeled from my room to the operating theatre. Flat on my back all I could see was the ceiling lights. Occasionally I stole some glances to the sides to see glimpses of people. The view was so different from an upright position. I felt like being taken to the slaughter house. Filled with anxiety, I was completely disorientated. While alone in the holding area, I prayed hard for the surgeon, the anesthetist and the nurses for a successful surgery on my hernia. After it was done, I gave thanks to the Lord for answering my prayer.
Throughout my adult life, I was plagued with hernia problems. The first time it happened was when I was a student pilot with the Royal Air Force in England. During physical training, I had to lift weights. Suddenly one day, I noticed a lump in my right groin. Medical examinations confirmed it to be hernia. Not wanting to disrupt my flying training, I requested surgery after my graduation. On the day of the surgery, England was hit by a heat wave with the temperature around the eighties. With the pain and heat, I found myself lying in front of the fan without any shirt on.
Fourteen years ago, I started to introduce tennis to my eldest daughter, who eventually gave it up. Instead, my son latched on to it like a duck takes to water. So I decided to give my son a head start with playing tennis in the tennis court. A few days later, lo and behold, I discovered two lumps in my groin area. Hernia! This time a double - one on each side! I ended up in the hospital.
Coming round full circle, I now have a right hernia, the third time. According to the surgeon, my nylon guts inside me fragmented and broke. He managed to remove them and replaced with new guts. I now have to be more careful especially when I have to carry my grandchildren.
I am glad it is all over for now, and am very grateful for my family's support, especially my son, who paid my hospital bill.
Till then....
Earlier on, I had climbed on to the trolley and was wheeled from my room to the operating theatre. Flat on my back all I could see was the ceiling lights. Occasionally I stole some glances to the sides to see glimpses of people. The view was so different from an upright position. I felt like being taken to the slaughter house. Filled with anxiety, I was completely disorientated. While alone in the holding area, I prayed hard for the surgeon, the anesthetist and the nurses for a successful surgery on my hernia. After it was done, I gave thanks to the Lord for answering my prayer.
Throughout my adult life, I was plagued with hernia problems. The first time it happened was when I was a student pilot with the Royal Air Force in England. During physical training, I had to lift weights. Suddenly one day, I noticed a lump in my right groin. Medical examinations confirmed it to be hernia. Not wanting to disrupt my flying training, I requested surgery after my graduation. On the day of the surgery, England was hit by a heat wave with the temperature around the eighties. With the pain and heat, I found myself lying in front of the fan without any shirt on.
Fourteen years ago, I started to introduce tennis to my eldest daughter, who eventually gave it up. Instead, my son latched on to it like a duck takes to water. So I decided to give my son a head start with playing tennis in the tennis court. A few days later, lo and behold, I discovered two lumps in my groin area. Hernia! This time a double - one on each side! I ended up in the hospital.
Coming round full circle, I now have a right hernia, the third time. According to the surgeon, my nylon guts inside me fragmented and broke. He managed to remove them and replaced with new guts. I now have to be more careful especially when I have to carry my grandchildren.
I am glad it is all over for now, and am very grateful for my family's support, especially my son, who paid my hospital bill.
Till then....
Friday, January 19, 2007
Oh my hernia!
Thank you for the comments from my son and Lily, my long suffering ex-colleague. Nice to know that someone actually reads my blog.
Today saw me consulting both my ENT surgeon and another old surgeon friend who operated on me years ago. It has been more than a month now since my last vertigo attack. A vertigo attack is something that is so devastating that you wish you will not live to suffer another one. Having suffered three within a space of one and a half month last year, I decided to consult an ENT surgeon. He did the drop test on me to simulate an attack. Fortunately it did not materialise. I was finally diagnosed as having Menieres Disease, a debilitating illness affecting the middle ear, due to poor blood circulations. I now carry with me pills to help counter vertigo attacks. Since I saw the ENT surgeon, I have not suffered another vertigo attack. And so today, I was discharged by the surgeon, who gave me two months supply of medications, and warned me that I could have another attack. I now carry two types of pills, one for a period of two months for blood circulations and another to counter a vertigo attack. I sometimes pre-empt a vertigo attack if I am attending a function, by taking a pill. The pill prevents nausea and a vertigo attack which can happen without any warning. A vertigo attack in public is very alarming and embarrassing.
The second surgeon I consulted was an old friend who operated on me three times in the past. First time 14 years ago when I had a bi-lateral (double hernia). Second time to remove my gall bladder and third time to remove a mole on my face. He had a tough time with my first surgery, spending three hours patching my double hernia, due to my weak tissue. Now he will tackle my right hernia, which has recurred the third time. First time I had it was when I was a student pilot in the UK, while doing physical training. It was terrible! Every now and then, I had to go to a quiet place to push back my intestine, which had dropped out through a small opening.
And so come Monday morning, I will check into the hospital for the surgery which has been scheduled for 2 pm. I will need to spend a night in the hospital and be discharged on Tuesday. Please pray for me that the surgery will go through successfully without a hitch.
Till then....
Today saw me consulting both my ENT surgeon and another old surgeon friend who operated on me years ago. It has been more than a month now since my last vertigo attack. A vertigo attack is something that is so devastating that you wish you will not live to suffer another one. Having suffered three within a space of one and a half month last year, I decided to consult an ENT surgeon. He did the drop test on me to simulate an attack. Fortunately it did not materialise. I was finally diagnosed as having Menieres Disease, a debilitating illness affecting the middle ear, due to poor blood circulations. I now carry with me pills to help counter vertigo attacks. Since I saw the ENT surgeon, I have not suffered another vertigo attack. And so today, I was discharged by the surgeon, who gave me two months supply of medications, and warned me that I could have another attack. I now carry two types of pills, one for a period of two months for blood circulations and another to counter a vertigo attack. I sometimes pre-empt a vertigo attack if I am attending a function, by taking a pill. The pill prevents nausea and a vertigo attack which can happen without any warning. A vertigo attack in public is very alarming and embarrassing.
The second surgeon I consulted was an old friend who operated on me three times in the past. First time 14 years ago when I had a bi-lateral (double hernia). Second time to remove my gall bladder and third time to remove a mole on my face. He had a tough time with my first surgery, spending three hours patching my double hernia, due to my weak tissue. Now he will tackle my right hernia, which has recurred the third time. First time I had it was when I was a student pilot in the UK, while doing physical training. It was terrible! Every now and then, I had to go to a quiet place to push back my intestine, which had dropped out through a small opening.
And so come Monday morning, I will check into the hospital for the surgery which has been scheduled for 2 pm. I will need to spend a night in the hospital and be discharged on Tuesday. Please pray for me that the surgery will go through successfully without a hitch.
Till then....
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Emma
Today is babysitting day for me to look after my granddaughter Emma. The apple of my eye or the cause of my hernia! She was pretty glum when I received her early morning, to find out from her mummy that she had thrown up in the car. But when I brought her home, she immediately brightened up and was fully charged. Back to her usual self, she was totally at home demanding that I entertain her with Barney on tv, biscuits, bread sticks, her doll house and anything that belonged to me including my Rosary.
Carrying her around, there was this pervasive aroma of boiled egg, which turned out to be her 'poo-poo'. My daughter had earlier told me that she had constipated the day before. Later in the day she was to 'poo-poo' again. Seems she had accumulated her 'poo-poo' for her grandfather and grandmother! To make matters worse, she is teething because her molars are cutting which all mothers know, gives off the worst smelling 'poo-poo'.
Nap time, and Emma refused to sleep wanting to play and wander around the apartment. I ended up wrestling with her on the floor as she tried to sit on my face jumping up and down. At one point I nearly pulled my stomach muscle, which was quite painful. Sometimes I forget my own age! Finally I placed Emma between my lap, placed a small pillow behind her head, dump her sling, which has her mummy's body odour, for her to cuddle ( it was washed earlier since Emma threw up in it), with the tv playing Barney, Emma finally fell asleep. It was intermission for me and my wife.
Emma is a very passionate baby. She will cuddle and kiss on the lips and when I play with her on the floor, she will suddenly give me a big hug and shower me with her wet kisses. Especially so when Barney's theme song is sung on the tv. She also has a weird sense of humour, like her mother. One day, her mother was putting on her socks and shoes. Emma turned to her bare foot, turning her sole to her face, she waved her foot bye-bye and kissed it before letting her mother put on the sock. She is also very musical minded and rock and sway to the music everytime, ever since she was a few months old. Hopefully when she grows up, she will take up some musical intrument.
It has always been nice looking after Emma now that my two elder grandchildren are schooling. The highlight of my mundane retired life, it is a joy to be with her everytime. Seeing her antics and mischief bring me much cheer and enjoyment. She will be back tomorrow and I look forward to it. Night, night Emma! May the good Lord bless you and send his guardian angel to look after you. Till then....
Carrying her around, there was this pervasive aroma of boiled egg, which turned out to be her 'poo-poo'. My daughter had earlier told me that she had constipated the day before. Later in the day she was to 'poo-poo' again. Seems she had accumulated her 'poo-poo' for her grandfather and grandmother! To make matters worse, she is teething because her molars are cutting which all mothers know, gives off the worst smelling 'poo-poo'.
Nap time, and Emma refused to sleep wanting to play and wander around the apartment. I ended up wrestling with her on the floor as she tried to sit on my face jumping up and down. At one point I nearly pulled my stomach muscle, which was quite painful. Sometimes I forget my own age! Finally I placed Emma between my lap, placed a small pillow behind her head, dump her sling, which has her mummy's body odour, for her to cuddle ( it was washed earlier since Emma threw up in it), with the tv playing Barney, Emma finally fell asleep. It was intermission for me and my wife.
Emma is a very passionate baby. She will cuddle and kiss on the lips and when I play with her on the floor, she will suddenly give me a big hug and shower me with her wet kisses. Especially so when Barney's theme song is sung on the tv. She also has a weird sense of humour, like her mother. One day, her mother was putting on her socks and shoes. Emma turned to her bare foot, turning her sole to her face, she waved her foot bye-bye and kissed it before letting her mother put on the sock. She is also very musical minded and rock and sway to the music everytime, ever since she was a few months old. Hopefully when she grows up, she will take up some musical intrument.
It has always been nice looking after Emma now that my two elder grandchildren are schooling. The highlight of my mundane retired life, it is a joy to be with her everytime. Seeing her antics and mischief bring me much cheer and enjoyment. She will be back tomorrow and I look forward to it. Night, night Emma! May the good Lord bless you and send his guardian angel to look after you. Till then....
Monday, January 15, 2007
Welcome to my blog.
Welcome to my blog - KaKoong - the rumblings of a lonely soul! Why KaKoong? That's what my grandchildren call me. Started by Samantha, who started her baby talk, and all of a sudden evolved the word 'kakhng'. Did not make sense at that time until she directed it at me and slowly it became KaKoong, which is similar to the Chinese name for the grandfather - 'KoongKoong'. Means a lot to the Cantonese, which automatically places me as the father of the child's mother. After Timothy was born, he cannily and without prompting, used the same name. With the new arrival Emma, who is only 17 months old and learning to talk now, she has explicitly addressed me 'KaKoong"! Even the darn African Grey calls me that!
Resigned to being a lonely retired grandfather, welcome to my grandfather's stories. I have surpassed the ten years of my retirement. Contented? Not so! Same old worries of things to come. Will my savings outlive me or will I outlive my savings??? Money shrinks in proportion to the value of goods and services. My health degenerates and my medical expenses shoot up.
But I am a Catholic and will leave my life in the hands of our Lord. I am always thankful for what I am - a simple man and a church worker. My joy in life is to be with my children and grandchildren, seeing them go through what I have gone through. My wife, although we do not always see eye-to-eye, has probably the same aspirations. That will need another blog for my wife to tell her side of the stories, but then she is computer illiterate. She cannot shoot me down with the computer but will outshoot me vocally! Ear plugs will come in handy.
My children (if you can call them children), are full grown adults or buffaloes. Son being a lawyer(a food, tennis and golf fanatic), No. 1 daughter, some sort of manager (still not sure what she does except eating), No.2 daughter being some financial wizard in the IT industry. Son-in-law No. 1 is a coach Captain ( a Flight Simulator fanatic) and Son-in-law No. 2 an entrepreneur in the screwing industry (another golf and automobile fanatic). All in all a crazy bunch but fun to be with. To be with them is to feel young again.
So that is me in a nutshell - very much a nut. Watch out for my next episode for some more gandfather's stories. Till then........
Resigned to being a lonely retired grandfather, welcome to my grandfather's stories. I have surpassed the ten years of my retirement. Contented? Not so! Same old worries of things to come. Will my savings outlive me or will I outlive my savings??? Money shrinks in proportion to the value of goods and services. My health degenerates and my medical expenses shoot up.
But I am a Catholic and will leave my life in the hands of our Lord. I am always thankful for what I am - a simple man and a church worker. My joy in life is to be with my children and grandchildren, seeing them go through what I have gone through. My wife, although we do not always see eye-to-eye, has probably the same aspirations. That will need another blog for my wife to tell her side of the stories, but then she is computer illiterate. She cannot shoot me down with the computer but will outshoot me vocally! Ear plugs will come in handy.
My children (if you can call them children), are full grown adults or buffaloes. Son being a lawyer(a food, tennis and golf fanatic), No. 1 daughter, some sort of manager (still not sure what she does except eating), No.2 daughter being some financial wizard in the IT industry. Son-in-law No. 1 is a coach Captain ( a Flight Simulator fanatic) and Son-in-law No. 2 an entrepreneur in the screwing industry (another golf and automobile fanatic). All in all a crazy bunch but fun to be with. To be with them is to feel young again.
So that is me in a nutshell - very much a nut. Watch out for my next episode for some more gandfather's stories. Till then........
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