Spoken to papa yesterday. I can clearly hear the concern from his voice, worrying about my health, worried about the completion of my thesis, worried about my health.
“Complete it, complete it”, I keep on hearing my own voice for the next few hours. I picked up “Never let me go” by Kazuo Ishiguro, which turned out to be a page turner.
I this book, “completion” is a totally new meaning. This book is extremely dark, yet I did recognise certain some similarity in the “release” offered by the “completion” of a long, difficult journey. Nah, I am not suicidal. Just that the arthiritis/ fibromyalgia/ chronic myofasical pain I suffer is draining me off now. I believe that I will pick myself up again. I fall, but I do not expect myself to lie there forever.
Medical treatment have not far failed me. Medical opinions sometimes even humiliated me, all these implications about psychological origins etc. Yet, those so called alternative and complimentary medicines are so freqeuntly made up of untrained people out to make a quick buck. Away from home, I am still desperately finding a good massage therapist to bring me relief. Expensive massage by people who not really knowing what they are doing is not an alternative for me.
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