Someone (who is also a former student) asked me on Twitter: “@izyanizulkifli salam hi mdm. Would you be willing to share your experience of becoming a lecturer? Like how did you begin back then?”
I favourited her tweet a while back and promised to write a post about it. Then as usual, we get preoccupied with things and I forgot. Oops. But having been at the hospital the last few days, I recall her tweet and remembered that I’ve blogged about it before. It’s an old post but the points are still relevant. So here is my post again 😊
Do you remember when we were kids in primary school, every now and then the class teacher would distribute a form or a small booklet asking us students what we wanted to be when we grow up? I remembered looking around at my friends’ ambitions and saw that the popular occupations were always chosenfirst -‘doktor’, ‘akauntan’, ‘peguam’, ‘jurutera’.. Those who didn’t really know what they wanted to be yetoften sees the role model in front of them as convenient, so’cikgu’ is usually a popular second.
As for me, like most children who look up to their parents, I tend to want to be what my parents were at the time. So I always wrote ‘kerani’ after my mom’s job at the school where I was attending because I didn’t really know or understood what it was that my dad was doing. Upon submission to the teacher, she would go through…
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In late April last year, I was in the hospital ward feeling nervous and excited at the same time while waiting for the arrival of our third bundle of joy. It was around 2am that I excitedly shared a photo on Instagram of me wearing the batik and bouncing on my gym ball while breathing long and deeply to cope with my contractions. A few hours later, our bouncy baby girl was born.
Today, I’m in the same hospital, though not in the same ward, thankfully.. But this time I’m here to accompany that same baby girl. Who would’ve thought, huh?
She was admitted this morning for high fever and dehydration. We don’t normally bring our kids to the hospital when they are feverish but this time around, it was a bit different. She was really weak, not active, didn’t have any appetite, threw up a lot of fluid and above all, she looked sick. This is our baby an hour before leaving the house this morning, posing next to her more jubilant and cheeky older brother.
Those who knew our baby girl knew she has the roundest, brightest eyes. And a wide toothless grin to boot. Those eyes and grin were not present this morning, nor were they present in the last few days. My mommy instinct told me it was time to have it checked. True enough, her paeditrician advised us to have her admitted as she’s not responding that well to the oral medication for her bacterial infections in the nose, ear and throat that she received two days ago.
After six hours of waiting at the waiting lounge, she finally got into her ward. Throughout the day, she has had her drip tube bandages changed 5 times. Being a baby, her tiny hand makes it difficult for the plastic needle to stay in place. It easily unplugs whenever she moves or attempts to remove them, and before I know it, blood gushes out. This was her worst ‘accident’ around 1.15am just now 😖
So in case you’re wondering why I’m still up typing this blog post, it’s because I need to stay awake. I can’t afford to fall asleep because the last time I dozed off, the above happened. She’s still very clingy and doesn’t like to lie down in her own cot. But I’m afraid if I lie down next to her on my bed like just now and accidentally fallen asleep, she might hurt herself again. So now I’m cradling her on my lap while nursing her whenever she needs to.
Praying that I have the strength and health to take care of my baby, as well as her older siblings.