[Show as slideshow]

Hey look. I re-saved Reilly’s birthday pictures. My eyesight becomes bad around midnight so I didn’t notice the pictures were mistakenly saved as GIF instead of JPEG and quality went downhill.

Mom fetched dad and I to the hospital this morning where we spoke with a malay guy over the counter, who was shockingly pleasant and efficient. But last we visited UMMC was before the 12th general elections.. We lost dad’s appointment card, so he gave us a new one and set dad to come in again on Monday. In the column for clinic name, he wrote’RHD’.

Google search using ‘RHD’ and ‘cardiology’ returned Rheumatic Heart Disease. Could there be a few terms using the same acronym?

-

[Show as slideshow]

I was compiling photos taken at S.A.L.T. into a CD for the church. It’s such a nice feeling to look through pictures you spent the whole day to capture. No wonder Cheryl turned a photographer. But I resized those photos for this blog in order to save space and a lot of details were lost in those smaller forms. I recall TVSmith’s pictures that are always nice to see. He doesn’t put them up much, but when he does, they are at around 150kb each and big. So I saved mine again, to at least 640px in width.

Please have a look. There is only one page this time. But rather 10 big and nice shots than 20 small ones that we can’t enjoy the details.

Press F11 and then click on the portrait shots.

I have been met with numerous difficulties while continuing my education. Used to enduring trials, I have accepted resistance as temporary. They always serve a purpose that we may not immediately see, and will come back to us in the future. I’ve learned to think fast, from one option to another, I deliberate and test waters. Sometimes they return futile but at least I’ve tried and now I understand why it would be futile to choose that path.

While trials and setbacks have become a normal part of my life, something else never ceases to break my heart. Being misunderstood.

Especially true when it comes to money matters. It was a touchy issue in my growing up years so that I have come to be frugal to avoid depending on people. These days, I spend so much time reading, I barely indulge in entertainment. Ironically, the college cafeteria that needs some serious improvement is where I spend the most, because food is necessary.

But some things I feel should be provided better. Healthcare and Education. Both equip us to be contributing citizens. Everyone can benefit from improved healthcare and education. Your struggles in the present will go a long way.

So, I do not want to be financially dependent on people beyond what’s necessary and do not live as though the world owes me.

Perhaps a little hard for some to imagine. For those who vote for equality in the pursuit of wealth may extend their belief to those like myself. But we’re not the same. Like, to get education and healthcare, we would need to pursue money to achieve them. But the value of that money is not in the education and healthcare it buys. The value is in the things we can achieve through improved education and healthcare. Therefore, when we are met with resistance, we do not feel angered at being rejected. Even if we don’t get through this route, there is always another. We focus on ends and not the means.

My friend introduced me to Randy Pausch who passed away in July 25, 2008 from terminal pancreatic cancer. Pausch was a honorary researcher and lecturer at Carniege Mellon University, where my friend Wei Jie is. In 2007, Pausch delivered a speech to students, dubbed his ‘last lecture’ titled, ‘Really achieving your childhood dreams’. It was later made into a bestselling book.

When you have an illness like NF, there is no knowing how five years later would be. So instead of securing education or healthcare for our own future, we secure them in order to live out our dreams.

When I read the title of his speech, I burst into tears. That’s how much it hurts for being misunderstood this way.

This talk was modeled after an ongoing series of lectures where top academics are asked to think deeply about what matters to them, and then give a hypothetical “final talk,” i.e., “what wisdom would you try to impart to the world if you knew it was your last chance?” About Randy Pausche

After an exam last week, I met with the college’s only math lecturer and asked him about giving me extra tutoring. He welcomed this idea that I had first suggested to Dr. Steven Baptist, our head of ADP department, who also spoke with the lecturer himself.

If I am to graduate, I must take up Elementary Statistics that is the pre-requisite to a host of research-related subjects. So better to brush up my math quickly because I’m running out of Psychology subjects to fill up time.

But now I am drowned in fear anticipating this arrangement to unfold. Mainly because of my attempt at Elementary Statistics last Fall, which was emotionally traumatic as I sat isolated in class, confused by my surroundings and not knowing where the lecturer was headed to.

I want to complete my degree abroad. But to qualify for scholarship, I must work towards improving my CGPA. This means taking subjects that I am confident at scoring an A. In that case, re-taking Personality Theories would be better since I’m familiar with it, and the lecturer, Ms. Marion, creates a better learning atmosphere. Personality Theories will be on Monday afternoons and clashes with College Algebra - the math subject I intended to take and would need extra tutoring for.

Delaying math subjects didn’t sound like a good idea as doing so would push forward Research Methods and Evaluating Behavioral Research too. Besides, there really isn’t much to do at Segi for someone who wish to concentrate in Psychology and Development.

With my deafness, math has started to feel like a chore.

But UIU’s residential campus may be different. Curious about subjects from other majors that I can use to complete my degree, I logged onto UIU’s website and browsed through the Division of Science and Mathematics. They have a Mathematics major and a lot of courses for that. They have workshops for students who need extra instruction in small-group settings. There are 3-credit hour subjects in Beginning Algebra and Pre-Calculus, as well as a Foundation in Mathematics course for students who have not had mathematic courses for several years. There is also History of Mathematics!

Looking at each description brought tears to my eyes. They make me feel that I would be appreciated. Look, there are specific courses tailored to help students enjoy math. There are possibilities out there and no one is hopeless except in some cases of developmental delay. There are teachers out there who believe in your potentials and anticipate your subject mastery. Reminds me of Ms. Marion.

Reminds of me Tremayne too.

This friend I knew through the SMKSJ Computer Club had just graduated from University of Southampton with a degree in Actuarial Science. Tremayne unintentionally became my motivator back in school. He used to ask me things related to web maintenance, and I sometimes didn’t know what he meant. He would reply dismissively, “never mind”. That got me going. “What never mind? Don’t give me a never mind”. And so I turned to the internet and searched answers to his English jargons and picked up skills in web maintenance. They were not necessary at that time, but Tremayne knew something I didn’t, and I took his ‘never mind’ as an insult and a challenge. But Tremayne was awarded the ASEAN Scholarship and left to oursue his A-levels in Singapore soon later. And I was on my own.

Now when I think of Tremayne, I am reminded that learning involves motivation to investigate, curiosity, and a desire to surpass expectations. Some may ask why am I being so emotional about studies while other students are complacent with the local system. Maybe they haven’t known Tremayne.

Morton Chethik mentioned in his book that Child Psychotherapists should know how to ‘regress’, stoop and enter the mind of a child, and mirror the child‘s inner world through play. Unlike the cognitively-matured adult, children do not remember their feelings. They live it out.

Easier said than done. We are all individuals with our own histories of joy and sorrow. We hold multiple roles, exceeding our limits. Sometimes, the individual becomes fixated in a life of conflicting emotions that may be stress-induced. Other times, there are so many versions of us, we become confused, burnt out, and no longer clear what or who we ought to be.

As life unfolds, we are driven further away from simple things. The matured brain learns to sort memory in chronological order and use them as guidance on what to expect of future events. We become cautious, guarded, sometimes unnecessarily, forgetting to live in the present like children do. I notice the people around me are guarded and pre-occupied with their personal concerns, even while in the presence of others. The sad thing is, I am not exempted from this enculturation although I am aware..

Couple of days ago, I told a friend back in secondary school that if I marry, I would marry someone who makes me feel like a child again. My friend sounded apprehensive. She said it is okay to be child-like sometimes, but that can only have a small part in us. We need to grow up and lead adult lives. My friend is the same age as me, but she’s already earned herself two Bachelor of Law degrees in England (probably different in concentration) and now proceeding to post-graduate studies. It is so like her to think that way, to emphasize on work and studies. Funny thing is, my friend doesn’t hope to be rich and earn beyond what she needs. Yet, she’s always on the run. As if the going gets real only if the tough gets going.

But why would wanting ‘to be a child again’ be synonymous to childishness?

My friend’s opinion is clearly fashioned by her parents’ past experiences. They had a difficult start and now want nothing but their only daughter to achieve financial independence. I know her parents personally and I respect them for the love and devotion they place in my friend. Perhaps, this line of reasoning that says her parents’ experiences impinged upon her ability to ‘be like a child again’ is not enough. After all, my friend is a social being, she is not wholly dependent on her parents to form an identity.

Let’s look at older adults. When I suggested Mr. Jason should teach less subjects because doing so seem to have stressed him out and there’s no benefit to our lessons in doing so, Last semester, he had to replace a number of missed classes when his blood pressure rose to an emergency and must be admitted to hospital twice. Mr. Jason said he has no choice, while Ms. Marion teach only a couple of Psychology subjects. Her vocation is in the area of Child Psychology, so she is focused on subjects related to that. Nothing more was said about Mr. Jason and his rat race, as I tried to bail the students out from being dragged along, unsuccessfully.

I am not quite sure about Ms. Marion’s background, but she’s Eurasian and if I remember it right, she was originally from U.K. Beats me how she ended up teaching for University of Upper Iowa or how her last name turned Indian! Ms. Marion taught me Personality Theories in Spring 2008. I did not meet the 70% passing grade and failed that subject, but I enjoyed her lessons nevertheless. Although both Marion and her students need time to adjust to this new teaching arrangement, I find the atmosphere in her classes uplifting. This does not mean Jason is poor at lecturing, but we need a break!

Whenever I spoke with Marion, whether in class or somewhere on campus, whether we were surrounded by a crowd, or if there was just the two of us, I especially appreciated her ability to focus on me alone and listened with anticipation when we talked. As if she thought what I wanted to say was so impossibly good, that she just have watch close enough or the chance might not come back. I thought she was just being nice at the beginning, maybe trying to get acquainted with the students as a newly arrived lecturer. But time passed and her freshness endured. When Jason told me of her vocation, I saw the connection between that and her personality. Communicating with Ms. Marion makes me feel like a child again. I feel that I am valued as a person, not because I am Yvonne Foong or that I am a student under her wings. I am valuable because I am me.

How simple. Like children. This is one of the things I hope to achieve next, by learning to be like a child again. A change of environment is necessary.

First thing an aspiring Psychologist must do, is to sort out her own problems, before she can reach out to others with a congruent self.

-

[Show as slideshow]

Most people in church I know grew up together so that each of them unconsciously adopted specific roles. Everyone seems to have a place but me. With NF and weaker than most, I have limited choice on things to do. Then, Joanna texted me two weeks ago. “Yvonne, would you take pictures using your camera during S.A.L.T.? Ah, finally this is how I may fit better.

So on 27th July 2008, Grace Assembly of God organized the annual S.A.L.T concert, SALT is in short for Shah Alam Life Tribute. From 3pm to 9pm, SALT was supported by independent bands that performed non-stop, one after another. Proceeds from ticket and food sales would be used to upkeep Shechem Home - a childrens’ shelter the church founded years ago. This year, tickets went for RM10 each.

Of all photography styles, I like photojournalism most. Characterized by still-life shots. Maybe I lack an active lifestyle, and through photojournalism, I can bring out the livelihood in others.

Photojournalism provides me the adrenaline rush. I need to be alert and ready at all times, to capture attractive-looking actions around me when they happen. Like intuition, I tend to get nicer shots after adjusting to a new environment, tuning out my own thoughts, and become in sync with my surroundings. I know, it sounds new age.

We need to adjust quickly to new surroundings because of the varying amount of light, motion, and subjects. Even from one corner of the stage to another took me a lot of adjustment. For instance, I didn’t know the spotlight for stage performances iwould burn pictures so there is not always the need to add more light with flash or increase exposure despite being indoors. Flash made some pictures better, but not always. It also seems to vary with the different clothes that performers wear, or maybe it’s the different skin tone and ethnicity. Oh, don’t forget the spotlights that keep flashing, on and off, so we got to snap at the right moment.

With just a low-end camera and not much patience for photo-editing, I don’t rely on technology to make my shots look good. This is where photojournalism compensates. Even without a good camera, photojournalism makes room for creative manipulation during the actual shoot.

The photos above are not up to scratch, I admit. They looked a lot different through my LCD screen!
But we got to start somewhere, and this is my start.

[singlepic=175,500,382]

Oh, and best thing that happened was meeting a friend, Samuel Oh! I knew Sam while studying at Life College. He’s earned his diploma in Mass Communication and now in the process of looking for a place to do his internship. Sam is also the lead singer of his band.

Summer study has been intensive. So intensive that I missed out a good part of learning. Cramming two chapters in one week quite defeats the purpose, don’t you think?

Over the next month, I would continue Morton Chethik’s Techniques of Child Therapy from where I last stopped.

The application of theories we read at the undergraduate level into clinical practice is truly awakening.

One reader disagreed with Jung’s and Freud’s theories on development of the self, which he thinks contrast with his understanding of Christianity. But I find that awfully simplistic. Theories are just that, theories. If at all, theories make little sense in the real world. Unlike buying a vacuum cleaner, that you use right out of it’s packaging, theories in Psychology function as a guide, but have no good use of its own. Like mathematical formulas, the formula itself has no form, and thus cannot be good or bad. But formulas become a ‘thing’ when we take and use them to accomplish something more - a mathematical equation.

As for those who claim Freud and Jung’s theories as unchristian, I can only ask these people to stop seeing things at face value and think out of the box.

Everybody, meet Ong Kai Boon. My typist in Contemporary Ethics class! I know we looked as though paparazzi caught us on the streets and demanded for a shot. Blek.

[Show as slideshow]

2001 at Genting Highlands with Jie Yow, Oon, and Cheryl.

Yesterday night, I lament to Alicia about the feeling I had before NF changed the course of my life. Teenagers at that age are less bothered by consequences, they anticipate less of future events and focus more on the present. I miss joining clubs for the sole purpose of joining, and nothing else. I miss talking to people for no other reason than the want for communication. But of course, I did not see it this way last night. All I knew, was that, my feelings were different when I could hear. Meeting up with Beatrice and Kenneth reminded me of the self that once existed, the self that they knew named Yvonne.

I am not alone. Picture Protestanism and their race to ‘win souls’ by convincing their friends that the Christian faith is the only truth and so the purpose in life is to save others from sin, which can be accomplished by making them adopt the Protestant faith. Protestants may see this as their duty, to be in touch with people in order to convince them of the Protestant faith. I do not question the nobility of this practice as that would be a different subject altogether. But what I am trying to say is, why don’t we be nice to people who have different faith, just because we want to be nice?

So this is the difference between children and adults. I notice people I know after I became deaf, tend to think twice and doubly hard before communicating with me. Like they need to frame their words properly, so as not to offend or some other reason. Alicia suspect that people think twice because they treat me as a matured person. But aren‘t other people matured? How come they let go themselves when talking to others but not me?

Then, we may suspect that my demeanor elicited such guarded interactions from people. Hmmm… well I was far less nicer to talk with before I turned deaf. Serious! But still, the feeling is different.

Or maybe, these days, people regard me first as an unfortunate soul that needs to be helped, a friend second.

This was intended to be a funny post of last night’s dinner with Kenneth Khaw and Beatrice Goh. But then I started feeling melancholy.

I have known the both of them since 1999 in SMK Subang Jaya. Beatrice’s earliest recollection involved seeing me at Leo Club meetings, but it wasn’t until I started playing squash that we formed a collective memory together. I also got to know Kenneth through the Squash Club, while we were coached by Ong Beng Hee’s father. Beatrice and Kenneth were outstanding squash players.

Another friend used to have a crush on Kenneth – the funny guy whose name hung loosely on the lips of many during tea breaks. Our coach used to nickname him, ‘Handsome’ and my friend who had a crush on him, ‘Miss Colgate’ for her bare-teeth grin. Kenneth and Beatrice were one form above and regarded as seniors who helped supervise our training sessions.

I was shy at 13. I honestly don’t remember speaking to them that year while Ms. Colgate and her entourage seemed better acquainted. The following year, Kenneth and Beatrice moved up to join the morning session while I entered Form 2. Then, like a skunk, Kenneth sniffed out my little-known geeky past-time learning HTML and web design. He was also member of the computer club and introduced me to his peers who needed assistance in running the school website.

Throughout the five years of studying at SMK Subang Jaya, I never knew Kenneth and Beatrice personally. Instead of sitting around, chatting with the likes of Ms. Colgate, I slipped my ghostly way through, without much talking, and wishing how people would start including me.

Each time I saw Beatrice around school, I made a quick note of her presence before zooming past, as if to avoid something. It was ridiculous because there was nothing to be afraid. But Beatrice seemed like some strict-looking no-nonsense prefect you wouldn’t want to mess with. Whoever knew her close friend since childhood was exactly the contrary?

I knew Beatrice and Kenneth were friends, but what kind of friend? I didn’t know until yesterday.

Beatrice has a brother three years elder, but she too, has the character of an elder sibling. Kenneth seems to have taken advantage of that in the past 19 years of their friendship, as he sat layback while Beatrice very naturally assumed the role of a cook last night. She grabbed ingredients from the buffet line and manned the steamboat throughout dinner while he ate and cajoled Aunty Beatrice incessantly. Or maybe, she was doing it for me while Kenneth gladly shared the pampering. And what do you know; her boyfriend might just give Kenneth the knuckle for that one day. But as Beatrice joked, special allowance needs to be reserved to honor 19 years of friendship. How loving!

A feeling of contentment surfaced as we chat in between mouth-full of fish, squid, and prawns. When Kenneth picked me up in his humble Kelisa, I was struck by how neat he looked last night - long-sleeves with vertical stripes, fashionable slacks, matching shoes, and prepped up hair. “Whoa!,” I said, hopping onboard. Where were his signature cotton tops and Bermudas? Later, the first thing he revealed at the dining table was his recently announced exam results. “I am officially a graduate!” Say hurray to our brand new telecommunications engineer.

Beatrice was no less a bird of the same feather. We swung over to her place and greeted a re-packaged Beatrice Goh. No longer with loose tees and comfy shorts, she emerged wearing, of all things, a pink blouse! Her hair was cut to a sexy length, cheeks tinted red, and oh save me the details. I am not into girls but you get what I mean. But poor Beatrice. While I thought she turned lady-like, Kenneth broke the magic. ‘She looked like a little girl last time, but now so aunty’.

It didn’t take long before all that displays of formalities were discarded. Once we sat down at the dinner table, Beatrice tied up her hair to a comfortable height, an arm on her hips, like meeting us in the neighborhood Pasar Malam. Kenneth’s formal presentation was overshadowed by his bullet-train revelations without stammering the way he used to. We started discussing about who will marry first and Kenneth without reservations, told us of his ten-year plan. It didn’t matter if Kenneth earned his degree from Australia or Pakistan, if Beatrice worked in the office or the kitchen, if Yvonne wrote a book or turned a bum. For the rarest occasion, I felt appreciated as myself. Like we were siblings, and siblings don’t much care if you’re stupid or smart. You are still one of us. When I exited the one-occupant washroom, Beatrice stood guarded on the left, Kenneth on the right. I found that peculiar, endearing too. You don’t see people do these things for friends around college nowadays.

I am still struck by this friendship we share. When did I became one of them? Did I really knew them? But there’s no mistake. I am one of them now. Still, memories of Ms. Colgate and her ohh-ahh-Kenneth days, Images of Beatrice the don’t-mess-with-me prefect, were like yesterday. They felt so distant then. Perhaps it was a matter of perception.

Beatrice was one of the first people to get in touch and helped me raise funds for the 2006 brain surgery. To my surprise, this once distant and seemingly stern prefect knew me by name! At 19, that struck me almost like giving balloons to a kid. Beatrice was finishing her degree in Sydney, and after helping me raise some funds, she slipped back to the background while I was occupied with events and other activities. Ten months later, while recuperating from surgery in L.A., I received a package at the Seton Guest Center. It was the first, a handmade card and two bars of Lindt’s Chocolates, all the way from Sydney.

Kenneth left for Australia about the same time I started raising funds. I remember appearing on TV with William Quah, and Kenneth, as busy as he was, managed to catch a glimpse of it, at the college guardhouse while exiting campus. Two years later, a friend mentioned how worried he was then. I didn’t see why, because we had lost contact. But when I saw the kind of friendship between Beatrice and Kenneth, I started to believe that it may be possible, to worry about a friend from that far despite not contacting.

I find that people who knew me before I turned deaf can communicate better with me now. They do not seem to notice my deafness at all. No hesitation or pretentiousness.