Yvonne Foong

As a child, I used to enjoy Disney cartoons such as Beauty & The Beast, Pinnochio, and Mulan. I also grew up to enjoy singing Disney medleys, the enchanted classics. They often convey very sound message. One example would be a simple song in Pocahontas.

Que que na-to-ra
You will understand

Listen with your heart
You will understand

Anyone speaking English would be able to literally understand this lyric, but it was total deafness that really taught me the meaning of this song.

I remember the days when I could still hear, my mind was pretty much distracted by surrounding activities, where to listen, what to reply, and when to remain quiet. Whenever we’re not interested in the things a person is saying, we would pay attention to other sounds other than the person’s voice. And when a few person talk at the same time, your mind tends to slow down in thinking, due to the access amount of information that needs processing.

So eventually, as I turnrf deaf, my mind becomes more focused. I am now more observant, calm, and sensitive. There’s now one less bodily function to cope with. I wouldn’t say I’m in the best state of mind, but at least, I no longer have to worry about mishearing words and giving the right response.

Referring back to the lyric mentioned above, it is absolutely true that we are capable of listening with our hearts, especially for deaf people like me. Without listening with our ears, we become more sensitive towards body language and aura. I may be deaf, but I have been noticing things that my hearing friends did not see. I can tell whether a person is unusually sad, happy, or troubled. At times, I can also tell if a person has malicious intent.

That goes to say that I’m extra receptive toward my friends. If you like me, I will know. If you dislike me, I will alsol know! Yikes, was this supposed to be a good thing?

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is… wear earplugs for one day, and try listening with your heart. Meditate on it, and discover a world of hidden wonders.

My friend, Yeeu Jen has been naming himself Anonymous on MSN for quite a few weeks now. He reminded me of how many people enjoy maintaining anonymity, portraying a mysterious image. I never understood the fun of being mysterious, because I’m a born extrovert.

The other day, I was chatting with Sam about some random stuffs, when I remarked on the hidden talents and personality he has. His reply was a bit sly. “I am a mysterious guy, Yvonne”. What’s so cool about being mysterious?!?

Many moons ago, John and I got into a rather personal discussion, and in reply to something I cannot disclose here, John said, “You think you know me, but you don’t!”

Is this a guy thing? Or does it come with gender equality? I don’t see that many girls going around acting mysterious, even though several guys have admitted craving for such girls.

If all guys are like that, then I’m a sore loser, because I’m definitely a far cry from being mysterious. Just read my blog and you will know.

Just yesterday, John and I were discussing about writing styles that appeal to the general public. He commented that my story in Book Project 2 is well written. I wondered how he could tell since he hasn’t read that piece before.

To which, he replied, “I can imagine how you would write”.

Sigh… I’m such an open book.

So what about you? Are you a mysterious person? Do you prefer mysterious people, or open books like me?

One reader named Cheng Sim, suggested that my classmates pose with the heart4hope t-shirt.

I thought that was a good idea, so dear Sarah, Sam, and Grace wore their shirts for a special photoshoot session today!

Here are the photos.. Pssst… free endorsement. hehe!

We’re so cool, aren’t we?

Today was an eventful one when a few authors, including myself, conducted a Book Reading session plus writing workshop at Popular Ikano. Response was encouraging, especially when yours truly gave away free writing tips! Photos below… I usually elaborate a lot, but not this time because my emotions are evidently unfit these days.

Okay… just some random loony photographs of my vain pot classmates. Sam, Sarah, and Daniel.

My favourite is this one cuz Sam looks so… GAY!

Was just browsing around Sharon’s blog when I chanced upon this post of hers, about Silverfish bookstore and the independant publisher, Raman Krishnan. I’ve heard enough about Silverfish and Raman through Sharon’s blog and by word-of-mouth, so I’m glad to say that I finally paid him a visit last Saturday.

The date with Raman wasn’t so great since I couldn’t hear the conversation between him and dear Cordy. Instead, I was more mesmerized by the kind of books he had on sale in that little bookstore that occupied the 1st floor of a shoplot in Bangsar. Raman doesn’t stock just any books, so there aren’t many ugly bookcovers gracing the shelves. Most books are tastefully produced by their respective publishers, and are great literatures.

It’s a very small bookstore, but also a compact collection of interesting books I was so tempted to buy if money wasn’t an issue. And while reading Sharon’s blog, I wondered, wouldn’t it be nice to have my own bookstore like that? A bookstore that stock good literatures, where customers can browse the books while having a cuppa and toast. there would be wi-fi as well. The ambience would be one of nature, with recordings of bird chirpings, greeneries, and there would even be a miniature waterfall in the courtyard with goldfishes swimming in the pond. The ambience of Coffee Bean comes to mind, with the design of an English courtyard, plus row of books neatly stacked on brown bookshelves. At one corner are beautiful gift items, and proceeds from selling these items would be donated to charity. There will be weekly book reading sessions in the courtyard, where amateur and bestselling authors alike would come to have hi-tea with fans and book lovers.

I would be sitting at one corner, writing on my laptop while customers buzz around the shelves (and the cashier).

Hmmm… what a nice nice dream.

This post is written based on my truest feelings, the torments of being a patient of NF. If you are one who provided me support, thank you very much, because you are not the ones who judged and ignore me. You’re not the ones I wrote about here. Just to clear things up so I won’t hurt kind people unknowingly.

I am feeling very sad today, and I won’t deny it this time. About 15 of us gathered at Jia Yin’s house for our weekly cellgroup meeting, and all was fine until my last straw was finally pulled. My body began to burn and streams of tear flowed down my cheeks. I tried hiding, so no one would notice, but I also knew that crying was the best thing to do this time, because I should have cried a long time ago.

I feel very very lonely, and no matter how strong I try to be, I am only human. My parents sometimes insult me in front of other people by complaining that I spend too much time on the computer, but what else can I do to experience communication? I am so tired of sitting all to myself among gatherings and act as though I am not bored. I’m tired of sitting in class and act as though I am paying attention, because what attention is there to pay? I can’t hear a single thing, and hardly anyone cares. I’m tired of sitting through sermons on Sundays, because I can’t hear a single thing about what is going on. Even though there is a slide projector, but it barely reflects what the speaker is saying. So on and off, I would just walk out of the congregation to space out, but someone would call me back in. I feel so sleepy, so sleepy during sermons, but I can’t sleep or walk out too much because it’s disrespectful. I’m tired of attenting cellgroup meetings and act as though I am joyfully involved, because the truth is, I can’t hear a single thing and I’m bored to my bones. But I have to attend, because I need to fellowship with my friends. I’m tired of watching TV with others and have to act as though I understand the show, when there’s no subtitles and I won’t know what everyone is laughing about.

I know… this is just a part of life which I must learn to overcome, and I must persevere because no one is going to help me if I don’t even help myself, but I am seriously very tired.

Just last Wednesday, mom and I drove tens of kilometers to the hospital, only to wait for my surgeon to start seeing his patients four hours later. But when he finally came, I realised that my whole morning had been wasted, because he wouldn’t write me the letter I request from him. He just had to mention about UH (University Hospital) and the cochlear implant, when I have told him a hundred times for more than a year, that I need the AUDITORY BRAINSTEM IMPLANT and NOT the cochlear implant, and it is NOT AVAILABLE in Malaysia. But he had been turning a deaf ear to my claims, because only last Wednesday did he decide to search the internet to validate my claims. It has been more than a year since I started mentioning these to him! Why did it take him so long to bother?!? Please, it is a global fact that the cochlear implant cannot work without hearing nerves, hence the only hearing aid possible for me is the ABI! So now you want to validate my claims, isn’t it a bit too late? And he decided to pay serious attention JUST BECAUSE I NEED THE LETTER FOR THE PRESS!! He said, he can’t simply write a letter because Malaysia will lose face! Oh my God! When I first told him about all these, I could still hear well. So now he decided it’s serious, but only to defend Malaysia’s reputation, and not because I am already deaf!!

You can call me unpatriotic, whatever. But it is a fact that many Malaysians are living in denial. The doctors here are inexperienced, lack of knowledge and ignorant, and that’s a fact. I have been researching about the acoustic neuroma and its treatment options for three years now, so I know it like the back of my hand. The one the affected my right ear was PARTIALLY removed at GENERAL HOSPITAL KUALA LUMPUR, because THEY COULDN’T REMOVE IT ENTIRELY. And mind you, that surgeon was among the most experienced neurosurgeons in Malaysia. Yet, he only managed to remove half of the tumor and I had to suffer facial paralysis for the rest of my life. And there were scarring tissues, spinal fluid leakage and I was nauseous for one whole month! See! I absolutely know what it’s like to remove this tumor in Malaysia, because I have been through it before, and it was HELLISH! I do not want to go through it again, hence, I decided to get the current Acoustic Neuroma removed in America. Dr. Friedman and his team are so caring, I feel so loved when treated at the House Clinic and St. Vincent Medical Center. The nurses were so dear to me and I was well taken care of. But in Malaysia, apart from suffering the consequences, I had to put up with the unkind nurses, the ignorant doctors, and the fierce physiotherapist. The nurses at the General Hospital are evil! They bullied me so much, I almost wanted to kill myself, especially during the spine surgery. If I explain how the nurses tortured me, I will defame Malaysia to the core! I hate to be treated in Malaysia, I hate it! But who understands? Nobody… nobody understands.

Most people only care to judge me. They think I’m being unrealistic by wanting to have surgery in America. They think that I’m asking too much by wanting to preserve my facial nerve. They think I’m undeserving for help. They think America is only but a dream, so I am being stupid. But HECK! Do you know what it’s like to have a paralysed face? No you don’t, but I do! Do you know how lonely it is to be deaf? No you don’t, but I do! Do you know what it’s like to be tortured by nurses? No you don’t, but I do! Do you know how hurtful it is to put up with ignorant and arrogant doctors? No you don’t, but I do! Do you know how painful it is to undergo repeat surgeries after an unsuccessful one? No you don’t, but I do! You know nothing, so stop judging me. If you think I’m just a pampered brat, heck, do you know my history? I know what it’s like to live in the ruts, I know poverty, I have eaten plain rice before, I have been poor and hungry before. What I have now, is all hard earned. You don’t know me, so stop judging me, please. I am human, and I have feelings too, just like you!

I am frantically raising funds now, because I know that nothing comes from nothing, so I must work for the best. I don’t expect handouts from the government, nor do I rely on local doctors to decide when to stop being ignorant.

I don’t know… I really don’t know anything anymore. I’m so tired of all these pain, all these loneliness, all these sufferings. I’m tired of being in silence, and that’s why I am working towards the possibility of hearing again.

All these while, God has been providing tremendous strength and support to me, and that’s how I managed to pull through. But without Him, I will collapse completely, and that’s what exactly happened this evening. I am only human, just like everyone else. I am only a weak girl trying to survive. Why do people keep judging and turning a deaf ear to my plight? All I want to do is to help myself, because I cannot rely on the government at all.

Seeing how lonely I actually feel, and how tired I am, I guess it’s time I stop pretending that things are alright, but they are not. I am beginning to have slight swallowing discomfort, and that means the tumor has grown larger. But who understands? Only myself and God.

Hie readers! There is a writing workshop by Book Project 2 authors at Popular Bookstore, Ikano Powercenter, this Sunday (26 February 2006) from 2:30pm onwards.

I will be the emcee and will also share my writing experiences and tips, so do come and support! Admission is free!

If you can’t make it on Sunday, I will also be at the Saturday session (25nd February 2006) at MPH Midvalley from 3pm onwards. This one is just a book reading session, not a writing workshop, but we need your support nevertheless!

See you there!

Looking back, the last holiday past like a gust of the wind. It’s amazing how God plan our lives, that everything happens so significantly. Nothing comes from nothing, and everything happens for a reason. Every chapter of our lives is a lesson to be learned, but it’s also our choice whether to learn from them or not.

One significance of the past holiday was a time of friendship reunions. Many friends came back, and many left. Some came home hoping to attend my book launch, while some just wanted to meet up with me. For many months, I have looked forward to the past holiday. Being the rare few who stayed back in Malaysia for good, I’m beginning to feel lonely and isolated by friends who decided to seek greener pastures. One by one, the numbers diminished, and by leaps and bound our gaps grew.

It was ages since the days I could easily pick up the phone and set up an outing an hour later. The days we went ice-skating, movie-going, and food feasting. Now, everyone is always too busy for anything, let alone meet up to have a drink.

Many a times, we had wished to seize the moment and preserve memories, but no matter how hard we cling onto relationships, they will one day come to pass. Our lives are like movies and we’re the main actor. Every scene has unique plots, new faces and different supporting roles, varying backdrops, and different lessons to be learned. Movies don’t make sense when played backwards, and such is our lives. We have to keep forging and moving forward.

I’ve come to realize that my life is indeed segmented by many chapters. Some long and some short, some happy and some sad, some active and some boring. Yet no matter how overwhelming they may be, each of them are specifically and meticulously designed to nourish my mind. I almost always become a better person after each chapter. This, I must thank God for His grace.

My friend, Kevin Tan, took the trouble to meet me in college this afternoon. He will be producing the concert, so we needed discuss the details and inform everyone about our expectations.

Kevin is a friend of mine from MSC International College (now Segi College) where I used to study music. He majored in composition while I majored in vocals. Among my ex-collegemates, Kevin has been the most forthcoming throughout my study there and beyond. Once, I needed to sing a duet song with another classmate, and Kevin being our senior, put time and effort into training us even though he didn’t have to. It was a pure favor from him.

My classmate wasn’t at all a suitable candidate to be my duet partner, and I had to sing a piece beyond my vocal range. A few days before the show, I wanted to change songs, but Kevin convinced me not to. He said I should be determined on the choices I decided upon, and not be fickle minded in achieving goals. That performance didn’t turn out well, but the encouragement he gave echoed in eternity.

Many months later, I was going to Los Angeles for surgery. Kevin and his girlfriend (now ex) saw me off at the airport. She brought me two homemade muffins while he came with a very sound message. He wanted me to come back from LA, alive and kicking.

And so I did! I came back, took up flute lessons, worked at a kindergarten, wrote a book, turned deaf, started an awareness campaign, won an award, and now on my way to becoming a promising writer!

Fast forward to two year later… Kevin is here once again to support me with all his heart. Within seconds after I sent an SMS requesting him to perform the chinese flute at the concert, he replied with much enthusiasm and even offered to produce the whole show! He wants to see this concert succeed, my story will be told in music, and I will go for a blessed surgery.

Ms. Pinky was in class writing to me while Kevin came in this afternoon. His face lightened up when I turned to see him. He held my hand tightly and gave firm, assuring pats on my back. What an old old friend.