Revelation - "You can't be a single father..."
Another boring day at the office... boring, but plenty to do as usual. I'm still feeling tired and sleepy. Well, I kinda felt happy this morning that someone actually left me a comment to my "devirginizing blog". I don't know who "JM" is, but thank you for the little "lift" this morning. A lot has been on my mind lately and I really needed some "human contact", even from a stranger. I've been going through a lot of ups and downs and it just feels like I'm on this endless rollercoaster ride where everybody is screaming, but no body hears the person next to him.
I'm starting to regain the full use of my right index finger after over a month and a half. It all happend on Monday night of the past Memorial Day weekend. Sylvester, my diabetic cat, was having spasms from an insulin overdose. He was low on sugar due to lack of eating and an increased insulin intake on the same day. That poor cat... he was literally bouncing off the wall, throwing himself against the stairs and slamming himself against a kitchen corner next to the fridge.
When I saw what was happening, I ran into the kitchen and threw opened my kitchen cabinets frantically looking for that elusive bottle of honey while I was screaming "Sylvester! Sylvester! Meow-Meow!! (his Chinese name)"... I was praying so hard as I pushed aside the millions of bottles of spices I had. I then remembered that I just had a BBQ and probably used up all the honey for basting the food... "God, please let me find at least a tablespoon of honey left..." I found an old bottle of honey... "Phew..!" I quickly grabbed the bottle in my right hand and lunged forward to tackle Sylvester with my left. Before I knew it, the both of us were in the middle of the kitchen floor... I trying to twist the bottle lid open while holding Sylvester down whichever way I could, as Sylvester wigged from under me trying to scramble away as if I was going to eat him for dinner. For some reason I also had the broom under my arm... I probably grabbed it too as I was tackling Sly. I can't remember how it happend anymore. I quickly dug my right index finger into the honey and instead of applying some on his gums and nose as I normally do, I stuck my finger into his mouth and that's when it happend. Sly involuntarily clamped down on my finger and I started to bleed like an overflowing river. Blood was all over Sly's furry face, in the bottle of honey from repeated dipping, and all over the kitchen floor.
Holding Sly and the broom under my left arm and the bottle of honey in my left hand and my right hand dripping with honey mixed with blood, I started to cry as Sly started to calm down under my weight. I curled into a fetal position with Sly under me and began to shake. I wasn't crying from the pain or the fact that Sly was spasming with a look of fear in his dilated pupils. I was crying for myself. Myself only.
As I continued to bleed in the fetal postion, the thought, "You can't be a single father..." crossed my mind. This hurted me most. Just a week or so prior to this dramatic event, I was telling my ex, "I have a feeling that I am destined to be alone in life." He then asked me, "What about having kids, I thought you wanted kids."
"I do. I want kids. I've thought about it and I decided that if I'm not with somebody in the next few years, I'm going to adopt a kid anyway. I'll just be a single father. I think I can manage."
Leave it to old diabetic Sly to prove me wrong. "No. You can't be a single father. You are destined to be ALONE without kids."
"But... but... this can't be true!?" It's true. At this point, I think I may not be prepared enough to be a single father. I need a lot more in me to be able to overcome situations like this. Picturing Sylvester as my possible child, am I capable of taking care of him? Protecting him? Caring for him? Being his shelter from harm... giving him the love he needs to grow? Sigh... it's hard to say... I think I am capable of doing most of the above without any problems, but being a parent takes more than being able to love and care for the child. Being a parent means you also have to be mentally fit and emotional strong and ready to withstand the hardest blow. I am afraid. I am afraid that I may not be able to father a child alone. This saddens me.
As an attempt to prove myself wrong, I stopped crying. I wiped away my tears and started to administer the honey again. By now, Sly was looking lost and dazed and probably wondering what's with all the comotion and why is there a bunch of people staring at me? My friends were still around from playing a round of MJ and witnessed the whole event. The whole dramatic scene unfolded over less than five minutes.
I spent the next 15 minutes feeding Sylvester honey until he came out of his stunned look and started eating his dry food. Poor cat, he's got only a few teeth left... all of which rotted away from old age. It was now 11 something pm... all my friends suggested that I go to the ER for treatment. My finger was so swollen that I couldn't bend it at all.
Over the past few weeks, my finger has gotten better significantly, but that thought is still in me... "You can't be a single father..." This saddens me.
I'm starting to regain the full use of my right index finger after over a month and a half. It all happend on Monday night of the past Memorial Day weekend. Sylvester, my diabetic cat, was having spasms from an insulin overdose. He was low on sugar due to lack of eating and an increased insulin intake on the same day. That poor cat... he was literally bouncing off the wall, throwing himself against the stairs and slamming himself against a kitchen corner next to the fridge.
When I saw what was happening, I ran into the kitchen and threw opened my kitchen cabinets frantically looking for that elusive bottle of honey while I was screaming "Sylvester! Sylvester! Meow-Meow!! (his Chinese name)"... I was praying so hard as I pushed aside the millions of bottles of spices I had. I then remembered that I just had a BBQ and probably used up all the honey for basting the food... "God, please let me find at least a tablespoon of honey left..." I found an old bottle of honey... "Phew..!" I quickly grabbed the bottle in my right hand and lunged forward to tackle Sylvester with my left. Before I knew it, the both of us were in the middle of the kitchen floor... I trying to twist the bottle lid open while holding Sylvester down whichever way I could, as Sylvester wigged from under me trying to scramble away as if I was going to eat him for dinner. For some reason I also had the broom under my arm... I probably grabbed it too as I was tackling Sly. I can't remember how it happend anymore. I quickly dug my right index finger into the honey and instead of applying some on his gums and nose as I normally do, I stuck my finger into his mouth and that's when it happend. Sly involuntarily clamped down on my finger and I started to bleed like an overflowing river. Blood was all over Sly's furry face, in the bottle of honey from repeated dipping, and all over the kitchen floor.
Holding Sly and the broom under my left arm and the bottle of honey in my left hand and my right hand dripping with honey mixed with blood, I started to cry as Sly started to calm down under my weight. I curled into a fetal position with Sly under me and began to shake. I wasn't crying from the pain or the fact that Sly was spasming with a look of fear in his dilated pupils. I was crying for myself. Myself only.
As I continued to bleed in the fetal postion, the thought, "You can't be a single father..." crossed my mind. This hurted me most. Just a week or so prior to this dramatic event, I was telling my ex, "I have a feeling that I am destined to be alone in life." He then asked me, "What about having kids, I thought you wanted kids."
"I do. I want kids. I've thought about it and I decided that if I'm not with somebody in the next few years, I'm going to adopt a kid anyway. I'll just be a single father. I think I can manage."
Leave it to old diabetic Sly to prove me wrong. "No. You can't be a single father. You are destined to be ALONE without kids."
"But... but... this can't be true!?" It's true. At this point, I think I may not be prepared enough to be a single father. I need a lot more in me to be able to overcome situations like this. Picturing Sylvester as my possible child, am I capable of taking care of him? Protecting him? Caring for him? Being his shelter from harm... giving him the love he needs to grow? Sigh... it's hard to say... I think I am capable of doing most of the above without any problems, but being a parent takes more than being able to love and care for the child. Being a parent means you also have to be mentally fit and emotional strong and ready to withstand the hardest blow. I am afraid. I am afraid that I may not be able to father a child alone. This saddens me.
As an attempt to prove myself wrong, I stopped crying. I wiped away my tears and started to administer the honey again. By now, Sly was looking lost and dazed and probably wondering what's with all the comotion and why is there a bunch of people staring at me? My friends were still around from playing a round of MJ and witnessed the whole event. The whole dramatic scene unfolded over less than five minutes.
I spent the next 15 minutes feeding Sylvester honey until he came out of his stunned look and started eating his dry food. Poor cat, he's got only a few teeth left... all of which rotted away from old age. It was now 11 something pm... all my friends suggested that I go to the ER for treatment. My finger was so swollen that I couldn't bend it at all.
Over the past few weeks, my finger has gotten better significantly, but that thought is still in me... "You can't be a single father..." This saddens me.
posted by Sparky X | 10:11 AM
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