Soup for the soul.

I have to be up in less than six hours for work, and I’ll probably be full of regrets tomorrow, but since I can’t sleep, let me tell you another nice story from my archives. I may have shared this story before, but my memory can be a bit fuzzy, so you can skip this if you’ve read this before haha. It’s a very very long post too lol.

In 2014, I was diagnosed with Tuberculosis because my dad got it, and obviously with an immune system weaker than most, fate dealt me another hand. Of course the whole journey to being officially diagnosed wasn’t so simplistic, and that’s where the story comes.

It started with this persistent cough that wouldn’t go away. Like I mentioned before, I’m a bit of a hypochondriac, so I went to see a doctor immediately. After multiple rounds of cough syrups and inhalers, the cough wouldn’t go away so I went to see a specialist. My x-rays came back worrying. There was a spot in my right lung that didn’t seem normal, and it was quite big, so the doctor sent me to do a CT scan and run some blood tests as well. By this time, I was a fairly emotional wreck.

X of course, was by me all this while. He even took my x-rays and scans afterwards to his doctor friend for a second opinion. And he kept reassuring me that nothing would happen. He knew I was scared and alone (I didn’t tell any of these to my family because what’s the point of worrying everyone when there’s no concrete diagnosis), and he made me promise to call him as soon as my results were out. The day the doctor sent me for more tests, I didn’t call as promised because the doctor said it might be cancer. I was already crying while waiting for the tests to be done and I knew I would break down the moment I heard his voice. He knew what time I was having my appointment, so he kept calling and texting but I just could not reply or answer.

But he persisted, and eventually I told him (while bawling of course). I even had to go for a lung biopsy because the scans came back inconclusive as well. Can’t remember why he wasn’t physically there at all but I think he was bogged by work.

On the day of my biopsy, I couldn’t drive as I was going to be administered LA, so I had to move my car from my usual spot so my family wouldn’t find out. A friend very kindly came to pick me up and sent me to hospital, and told me to call her so that she could send me home later. I checked myself in and waited. As they pushed me into the surgery room, an orderly said my family could enter with me to hold my hand if I was scared. I told him I came alone, and his face looked so sad. The scariest thing about the biopsy was how thick and long the needle was, and how they described the way they were going to retrieve tissue samples. And how I may potentially start spewing out blood from my mouth because of the position I was in. If I wasn’t afraid before, I was now this close to peeing myself.

The whole thing went by uneventfully (thank god), and I had to lay in bed for four hours without getting up in case I fainted from the by-effects of the LA. I even went home by myself (didn’t want to trouble my friend further). Results came back and it was thankfully not cancerous, and I was put on TB drugs immediately. And I was not to touch a single drop of alcohol because of the adverse reactions it may have.

X was very concerned. He nagged at me non-stop for keeping late hours and kept telling me what I should be eating to nourish my body. I reminded him I couldn’t cook and just like that, he called me one afternoon and ordered me to go to his house after work. When I got there, I saw this massive pot of soup that he cooked. While he also made me dinner, that pot of soup was to be my stash for home. He told me to freeze the entire lot and to reheat them (he even separated them out into small portions) each time I wanted to drink them.

I wanted to jump on him and cry. No one has ever done something like this for me before. Not even my mother. (When I suggested she cut the salt from her cooking for the sake of her diabetic daughter, she said she has to accommodate the rest of the family, and if I had issues I should buy my own dinner.) And he even told me to inform him if my stock was running low. And refused to take a single cent from me. Those few months, I was over at his place a lot because he knew I was queen of snacking and rubbish eating, so he wanted to ensure my diet was not all thrash.

Tell me. How do you not fall in love with a soul as kind as his? I never expected anyone to do anything on this scale for me, so for him to do this for my sake, you really cannot blame me for feeling the way I do. Whenever I tell this story to my friends, even those who have a negative impression of him, all agree with why I feel the way I do haha.


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