Time Wasted on Second Opinions

Time IS wasted on second opinions, I mean, IF you get that first affirmative that you have cancer, what are the chances that it might BE a “misdiagnosis”, very slim, right?  And yet, you still desperately searched for another doctor’s opinion that’ll BREAK the first diagnosis?

Time wasted on second opinions, because second opinions are similar to second thoughts, you’re wasting precious time away from the family.  Time wasted on second opinions, and yet, people searched long, AND hard, and all over the places, to find a “turn-over” of that very FIRST bad diagnosis, simply because they’re unready, unwilling, and not wanting, to deal with D-E-A-T-H, or the possibilities of it.

On New Year’s Eve, He Bore Witness to His Father Killing His Mother, Then, Committing Suicide

And, the one who found the bodies were the only son too, from the Front Page Sections, translated…

A tour bus driver in Hsinbei City, Jing had a bad relationship with his wife, Huang, and, it was suspected, that Huang was violent toward his wife, and his wife took out a restraining order, and then, separated from him, causing Jing to get angered, after he’d learned that Huang had returned to her family’s house for New Year’s Eve, last night, he took a gun, to his in-laws’ house in Yangmei, Taoyuan, the couple got into a fierce argument, Jing lost control, fired off five shots, killed his own wife, then, committed suicide, they were both dead, it had shocked the families.

The police investigations found, that Jing (age 51) and his wife, Huang (age 42) lived in Shulin, Hsinbei City, they’d been married almost twenty years, had a son, who is currently attending a night school, Jing works as a bus driver, and Huang works at a factory in Hsinbei City.

Jing, was suspected of not getting along with his wife, Huang, they’d often fought, and he’d raised his arms at her a lot, last year in July, she’d taken out a restraining order, then, left where they lived, and only kept in contact with her only son, Jing was displeased, but there was nothing he could do about it, at, last year in October, he too, left the home, leaving his own son to live off on his own.

Awhile ago, Huang received a phone call from her mother, telling her to come home for the New Year’s, two days ago, she’d taken along her only son, to her mother’s household in Yangmei, Taoyuan.

She didn’t expect that her ex found out, and early morning that day, he’d gotten angered, took a gun to his in-laws.  The two of them got into a disagreement in the living room on the first floor, Jing lost control, fired five shots, one of the shots got jammed, didn’t fire off, but two shots had hit Huang’s left eye and her chest.  Huang died on the scene, then, Jing used the gun on himself, on his chest, and the right side of his own chin, the two died, right on the scene.

Huang’s family said, that after Jing and Huang had divorced, he’d rarely came to visit, that early in the morning, they’d heard two shots that sounded like firecrackers, went downstairs, and found Jing, and Huang dead, in the living room, and blood was everywhere.

The police closed the scene, and the CSI found a gun that’s been remodeled, four shell casings, a bullet that wasn’t fired, five total shots, there was NO last note in the houses, the son that Jing and Huang had had bore witness to the murder-suicide early in the morning.

The police stated, that it was suspected that Jing and Huang had finally fallen out, due to long-term unhappy marriage, domestic violence, the police had asked the D.A. and coroner, to set up a day for the autopsies, to find out the actual causes of the deaths, and they’d taken the gun to the detective departments, to cross check the ballistics, to find out where the gun came from.

And so, another NUT still C-R-A-C-K-E-D, and this time, it’s still a murder-suicide, and, this sort of SHIT just can’t be avoided, after all, we can and WILL get dissatisfied with our lives, and, because we couldn’t find an effective outlet for our angers and displeasures, we’d resorted to V-I-O-L-E-N-C-E!!!

 

 

 

Paying Someone Back for the Kindness of Letting Him Borrow a Bicycle, He’d Searched for the Man for Thirty Years, and Finally Found Him

Keeping someone’s kindness toward you in mind, and, finally, paying the person back, from the Newspapers, translated…

An elementary school instructor in Pingdong, Huang, thirty years ago, felt bad for his student, Wu, that he was from a poverty stricken background, and couldn’t afford to buy a bicycle, he’d taken money out of his own pockets and bought one for him.  After Wu graduated from elementary school, he’d left Pingdong, and Huang, his teacher also went to teach at another school, the two of them lost contact, until last year in September, they’d got reconnected on Facebook, in order to pay back his instructor’s kindness, Wu had found resources, and managed to help kids from poverty stricken backgrounds.

Huang, who was from a farming family, had taught for thirty years to date, Kenting Elementary School was the very first school he’d taught at, back then, he saw that Wu and his younger sister wanted a bicycle so badly, and back then, his paycheck was only $16,000N.T. per month, and he’d bought a bicycle worth eight to nine thousand dollars for Wu, he said, “I just simply wanted him to have a happy childhood!”

After graduating out of elementary school, Wu took the bicycle from his teacher and left Pingdong, and Huang also went to another school to teach, Wu had kept Huang, who’s like a big brother to him in the back of his mind, and wanted to find him again, but he didn’t know where to look.  Until last year in September, Wu saw that someone posted Huang’s pictures on Facebook with the captions, “Happy Teacher’s Day”.  He’d finally found out where Huang is, he is now, working in Hsing-Feng Elementary School.  They’d met through the “air” and decided to meet back up during the New Year’s Holidays.

Wu said, in order to repay his instructor’s kindness, after he’d become an owner of a company, he too, had helped out the less fortunate, and gotten resources into the distant regions, to give the children who were born into poverty stricken backgrounds a pull, that he had the intentions of passing the legacy of kindness from his teacher on.

Huang had taught for thirty years, and had made up a TON of methods to teach the kids effectively, toward students who were troubles and couldn’t sit still, he’d “steamed tea” for them, to help the kids relax, to tell him what was going on in their lives to him.  He had set up multiple teaching plans for various students, a student who didn’t like going to school ended up becoming the “little helper in the creeks”, responsible for fishing the fish and the turtles out of the small creek that the school’s close to out, to help the plants in the water regenerate, not only were the students more willing to come to school, they’d behaved themselves more and more too.

Huang said, if he taught, to get the students up to speed, then, there would be eighty percent of class that will be “given up on”.  He kept true to his teaching beliefs of “leaving NO student behind” that he had at the very beginning, “If the child was given up in his elementary school years, then, could s/he be able to find her/himself again?  They’d more than likely to become someone who will drain the resources of the society later on in life!”

And so, this instructor had the heart of kindness, and he really cared about his students, and, he managed to help a LOT of his students, by showing them care and concerns, to help steer them into the right directions.

Buying Back His Childhood

He’d sold it, for what he could get, when he was younger, and didn’t realize how IMPORTANT his own childhood actually was, until that moment in time came…

He’d started, searching for the man, who’d BOUGHT his childhood, he’d gone to ALL the places he’d been from when he was younger, to find the traces, or even, the memories, of that man.

Buying back his childhood, he won’t BE able to, as childhood had flashed right by his side, and, childhood is still that river that runs ONE direction, and emptied itself OUT at the mouth of that river, and, emptied out, into the great oceans, where ALL the childhoods tossed away so carelessly go, to spend the rest of their dying “lives”.

Buying back his childhood, how can he?  He was the one, who didn’t think that his own childhood was IMPORTANT enough, plus, there were too many BAD and EVIL things in his childhood days, that he’d worked hard, to suppress, deep, into his UNCONSCIOUS, and now, he’s NEVER getting that back again…

Our Very Last Session

What MUST we all learn, for our very L-A-S-T lesson, I wonder???  Translated…

Every weekend, the Christian Hospital in Taidong Mobile Team had two vans for premature babies, and they’d driven to the distant regions of Taidong, to assist children who need.  The six therapists assessed the developments of children in various areas, and, would have interventions every single week.

As a clinical psychologist, I was responsible for helping the children with their emotions, along with getting them caught up, to help them find ways to interact with the world around, and I would often bring concepts of therapy, into our play sessions.

The child whom I’d accompanied for a year, because he was entering the first grade, and showed great improvements, and so, finally we’d arrived to the closing of the case.  Even though, many sessions ago, I’d told him of the time we shared ending, but, the child couldn’t quite grasp the concepts of the “last sessions”.

On this day, the child saw the therapist came to teach her once again, ran toward me, with the same enthusiasm as she’d done in our previous sessions.

I’d told her, “This will be the last session we have together!”, the child nodded her head.

“Do you know what is the last session?”

“Yes!”

“Then, will the teacher still show up next week?”

“Yes, on Friday!”

“Mmmmmmmmmmmm…the meaning of the last class is, that after today’s session, you would’ve graduated, and the instructors will NO longer come to school, to help you with your lessons anymore.”

“……………then, when will the teacher be here again the next time?”

“This, I can’t guarantee, but, if there are special activities or something special happening, then, I will surely come visit you again.”
“Then, you must call me regularly then!”

“Okay I will!”

The child, seemingly, satisfied with my replies, and started playing her games.

The child had a blast, in the games today, she’d made up a storyline about how the stuffed animals went on a picnic, and gave me two roles to play.

Our games, are initiated by the child, it would help her from being the reactive self she usually is, to the proactive, most of the time, I would have to guess what the child was thinking, when I didn’t know what to do, I’d ask her, “What am I supposed to do now?  How would I answer the question?”

She’d asked me to hold my horses, that there would be someone to pick me up.  But, every time when I’d welcomed the one who was picking me up with great expectations, the other person told me, that she needed to put on more makeup, and that she will show up a bit later…that she hadn’t changed into proper attire, and will come by later…that she wasn’t dolled up pretty enough, will come later…the person who was to pick me up had a tummy ache, and will be late…there’s NOT enough seats, maybe tomorrow then………she hadn’t gone shopping yet, maybe next time………

And so, I was stuck, in this cycle, from the expectations I had at the beginning, I’d become tiresome, and, in the end, I held NO hopes of the picnic at all.

And, finally, after the thirty minutes of playing, the child allowed my character, to get stuffed up, and I’d ordered an assortment of weird dishes too, after I’m full, the child had asked my character to go to Kaohsiung to visit, and, there wasn’t too much torture this time, we’d gone out quickly, and, returned home satisfied.

Maybe, she needed a sense of control through playing the games with me, to fill that part of her that’s normally left, unsatisfied, and she’d been especially excited, about gaining control of the games.  Maybe, the child is signaling that she’d had her promises burst, each, and every time, to allow me to feel her anxieties about it, or the sense of hopelessness, perhaps?  Or, maybe, she’s trying to say, that without a beginning, there wouldn’t be a need for an end.

Before she left, I’d given her a certificate of graduation, and asked her to read the comments that all her occupational therapists wrote to her aloud.  Maybe, the child had finally felt, that this, is the time for parting, and, she’d looked disappointed, and no longer smiled, like she’d done awhile ago.

I’d gone over, to hug her, she didn’t hug me back, and I too, felt saddened.

Waving her hand, she’d turned back, to walk back to the classroom, and, we were on our way, on the van, to our next assignment.

We all need to go through the phases of beginning and ending the sessions.  I think, that, is how life is, from strangers, to knowing each other, to parting.

Dear child, sadness is something you must go through, but, don’t forget the positive memories we’d shared, and hold hopes for the future.  We all grow up, in processes such as this, you, and I, the same.

And so, that, is how we say goodbye, because you no longer needed the help anymore, you are strong enough, to go out on your own, and, letting go is still NOT at all easy, especially when you’d gotten too close to your patients.

Making Peace

Translated…

As she’d installed the Line program on her cell, she’d found his name on the list “People You Might Know”, she’d added him to her friends list, and, with her quick fingers, she’d sent a series of words.

“There was once that nobody was there in your home, the instructor had told you to come to my house.”
“Do you remember that?”

Her house and his were only a street away.

Knowing he’s coming, as the bell rang, she’d ran fast home, locked up the doors.  Very short while later, the doorbell rang, she’d quickly hid away on the second floor bedroom, then, peeked from the crease in the draperies, seeing how he was with his yellow backpack, like a soldier, standing guard, at the front door of her apartment.

Every time the door bell rang, her heart raced a little more, she’d prayed silently, that her mother doesn’t return home yet.

Like the time that took for one period of class to finish, the doorbell had finally stopped ringing, she’d made sure that he was no longer at her front door, then, she’d let out a sigh of relief.

That, was a Wednesday, the day that the elementary kids expected the most, instead, she’d played with her dolls, and munched down on the snacks her mother prepared, and she couldn’t feel happy at all, as if something had managed to clog the flowing river inside of her heart.

Later, she’d always had him in the back of her mind, where did the backside of that yellow backpack go?  Her heart raced, as she’d waited, on him to reply.

“I seemed to have forgotten about that.”  Three minutes later, he’d tossed back his replies.

How could he have forgotten!  She was shocked, and then, mildly disappointed, that, was the most important thing that she’d remembered about them.

“Back then, I didn’t like boys, so, I didn’t answer the doors.”

“Hahaha, must be at least thirty years since?”, he pretended to make a joke about it.

Actually, how could he have forgotten?  That day, he stood, underneath the scorching sun, like he’d been punished for the entire class period, to stand behind the classrooms, he had seen her, behind the drapes, but, why wouldn’t she answer the door?

She was very beautiful, the one in charge of the class, the model student, and he, merely a small pawn who gets overlooked easily.

She didn’t like me then!  He’d made the conclusions.

After he’d left, he’d paced to the park in town, watched the elderly played chess, looked at the ducks, swimming in the ponds, lay on the stone benches, and counted the clouds up in the skies, then, he must’ve fallen asleep, when he woke again, the dusk had settled down, he’d walked home in silence.  At dinner time, his mother asked him, did he have fun in the home of the head of his class?  He’d forced a smile and nodded.  The next day, he’d gone across her desk intentionally, she pretended as if nothing had happened, just kept to her assignments, without lifting up her head.

Ever since, he’d never spoken to her again.  “When I’d grown up, I’d realized, that my odd behavior came from how I didn’t know how to interact with boys, thankfully, you’d forgotten about that already!  How’s this, I treat you to lunch in a few days?”, she’d used a cute picture, and sent the messages to him.

He saw the face, with the expression that’s heartfelt, with tears in the eyes, and, he’d seen a saddened, crying face in his mind………at nap time, the boys in his class were talking of playing a prank, and he normally didn’t take part, and this time, for some unknown reasons, he’d picked up a dried up frog that’s already dead, stealthily, shoved it into that pink backpack behind her chair.

“Actually, I………”

Things we did when we were younger, ahhhhhhhhhh, those are the days, aren’t they, when we were free to love, free to be, and, the two people from the story reached a silent agreement on letting bygone BE bygone, I’m sure, and, who knows, maybe, they’d started back up from where they’d left it in their childhood days???

Trapped, in His Own Mind

He didn’t have the keys, to the rooms, that his mind was encased in, and, he got trapped, in his own little world, marched, to the beats of his own drum.

Trapped, in his own little world, he didn’t know how to ask others for assistance, because he was NOT “trained” to do so, he was told to SUCK it up, and TAKE it like a M-A-N since he was a young child, as he was the only boy in his house.

Trapped, in his own little world, that, was a place of safety, and, just like that caterpillar that started wrapping itself with silk, he ended up, running out of air.  Trapped, in his own little world, with NO “Exit Sign” in sight, he just drove around, in circles, inside the freeways of his mind, and, he’s still running, slowly, OUT of steam, and, he will, eventually, lose D-R-I-V-E!!!

The Father Shopped For His Daughter’s Underwear

I thought it’s the M-O-M-M-I-E-S who usually do this, apparently, daddies can do this too, but, it just might get a bit A-W-K-W-A-R-D!!!  Translated…

I’d gone out shopping with my wife on the weekends, a man in his forties had been following us sneakily, since we were in the underwear shop, and he’d followed us to the bookstands.  In the over ten minutes’ time, he’d followed closely behind us, seemed to want to say something, but, something had stopped him.

I’d elbowed my wife gently, to remind her to watch her own burse, and signaled to her, with my eyes, that this man behind her was bad.

My wife used her peripheral vision to eye the man, told me, that even though, the man was covered in paint, but he didn’t seem like the pick-pocket type.

Waited until we’d turned back to the underwear shop, and took the altered clothes from the shop owner, it’s SHOWTIME!

Seeing this man, walking toward my wife, I’d beaten him to the punch, “What do you want?”, I’d stood in front of my wife, in a forceful manner.  “I’m sorry, I just want your wife to help me out.”

My wife and I looked at each other, wondered what he was thinking of.  Then, his face turned red, as he’d scratched the back of his own head, said, “I wanted to buy my daughter some underwear.”  And he’d made a gesture around his chest.

I’d recalled the scene prior, my wife was sorting through the underwear racks, soaking up in the joys of shopping, without recalling that I was right behind her.  I was somewhat embarrassed, turned around, and saw him, smiling next to his motorcycle.

“Where is your wife?  She should be the one, picking out your daughter’s underwear with her.”, my wife told him.

“My daughter just got into middle school, and her mother died in childbirth, I don’t have any other relatives I can go to for advice………”, he’d fallen silent for a short while, continued, “If you are unwilling, ma’am, I won’t force you to help
me.”

“Come, come with me………”, my wife asked the man about his daughter’s height, her build, her preferences in color.  And I was moved, by this scene, I’d watched the man, carried the bag of gifts out, with a heart of satisfaction, as he’d hopped onto his motorcycle, I’d bore witness, to the soft heart of a true man.

So, being a single dad isn’t at all easy, especially when you have a daughter, and, that, was what this man was faced with, and yet, the narrator’s wife had shown him the kindness that he needed, and, they don’t even KNOW one another too!!!

Say Nice Things and Your Popularity Increases

Translated…

My neighbor, Mrs. Lee would wear a smile on her face on a daily basis, and she is very conversational with everybody she meets up, there’s NOT a moment of quiet, and she made others feel comfortable too, and, it’s all because of how sweet her lips are, “This shirt looks especially beautiful on you; you look well, face glowing, you look so energetic, so pretty; your son is tall and handsome, your daughter very well-behaved too.”, etc., etc., etc., it’s NO wonder that the neighbors loved being around her.

Saying praises to others not only allow you to accumulate your popularity with others, it would also bring about unexpected surprises from time to time too.

One day, I’d passed by a seafood shop, and met Mrs. Lee, who was ordering food, and she’d commended the owner, “The small octopus you guys made is fresh and delicious.”  “You guys are extraordinary, the Kimchi you guys made is way better compared to the brand’s, it’s my favorite!”  Seeing how the owner of the shop is grinning ear to ear, and naturally, he’d put a few more octopuses in willingly, and he’d also given her an extra serving of Kimchi too.

Hearing these praises, those of us around her feel our moods lifted too, let along the ones being praised by her directly!

And so, this woman established herself, using praises toward others, and, because of how much she’d given others the affirmations of doing a good job, people naturally reciprocated her kindness, right back to her too.

The Great Taste of a Traditional Chinese New Year Dish

Let’s see WHAT, is cooking in the kitchens here, shall we???  Translated…

Every year, it seemed, that after the village had a peace prayer and offerings, days seemed to fly right by.

And now, my kids are all away at school, and so, every year now, the cleaning, I’d had to handle all alone.  Sometimes, as the end of the year approached, the weather isn’t at all good, and it’d made cleaning especially hard, and so, I’d prayed that the skies would get sunny around the end of the year, so I can clean everything up, start the year brand new.

Every time, it took over twenty days’ time, washing the windows and the screen doors, the fans, the air conditioning systems, along with repainting the walls in and outside of the house, and, we must throw things out.  And, oftentimes, before we’re near done, it is New Year’s Eve already, and, we’d all stopped what we were doing.

Since we were growing up, our grandfather had not been around, and our grandmother is aged too, my father had five other siblings, but they all had their separate families, and even though, they’d helped each other out, they rarely intervened into one another’s life.  Every time before the New Year’s, my mother would bring rice to a family in the village, for them to help grind it up, took it home, and drain out the water.  During this time, she’d stayed in the kitchens, busying herself about, and my mother would make sweet buns, radish cakes, along with a few bowls of specialty New Year’s items.

In the olden times, we’d cooked with a brick oven, and needed straws to start the fire, then, we’d put some wood in.  As children, we’d often run in and out of the kitchens, to see what is going on, and even though, the smokes would get in our eyes and noses, we’d had that whiff of the sweet cakes, and felt the busyness of the adults, along with the excitement that children feels around the New Years.

Before and after the New Years, the ten of us would eat the cakes for lunch and dinner, and would share it with our guests too, and the two huge baskets of cakes would be gone, in no time at all, and, our hearts, filled with bliss and happiness.

After my mother got older, she’d no longer made those cakes, and now, my eldest sister would give us half of the radish cakes she’d made.  And, in the time of eating what my sister made, I couldn’t help, but miss what my mother used to make around this time of year.

So, this, is how you remembered your childhood, by the holidays, and, in this day and age, traditions are fazing out, as NOBODY has the time, to make anything from scratch anymore…