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The postman rang the doorbell
and honk at the gate.
Strange. I wasn’t expecting any
mail or parcel today. I ran to the door and opened it. The postman pointed to a
yellow-coloured envelope that he left at the pillar of my gate and sped off.
I looked at the envelope; it has
my name written on it. On the left side, I saw “Phoenix Society”.
Oh! It is from USA. This is
I was excited and curious at the
same time. What did they send me? I ordered nothing from them. Also, the postage from USA to Malaysia can be expensive.
Inside the envelope, a
book and a card.
The book, card and envelope
It was heart warming reading the messages in the card. I felt touched
by their words of encouragements. I truly appreciate them for taking the time
and effort to send me the gifts.
Hand written messages inside the card
Message inside the book
Alan Breslau founded the Phoenix
Society in 1977. He was extensively burned in a commercial
airliner. As a young boy, he realised the importance of peer support
for those with burn injuries and after working with burn survivors for many
years, he officially incorporated The Phoenix Society for Burn Survivors.
Today, the Phoenix peer support
through Phoenix SOAR (Survivors Offering Assistance in Recovery) is available
in over 70 burn centers across North America. The Phoenix World Burn Congress
is attended annually by nearly 1000 members from the burn community, making it
the biggest gathering in the world for burn survivors.
They are reaching out to other
burn survivors around the world with their vision :-
Uniting the voice of the burn
community across the globe to profoundly advance lifelong healing, optimal
recovery, and burn prevention.
The birth of Patrick changed my marriage life from the two of us to the three of us, a family. We were excited, happy, worried followed by all kind of emotions for our baby son. So many things to learn, to experience. Breastfeeding, constant thoughts on our baby's well being especially when his jaundice appeared to rise during his first month. The lacking of sleep. There were moments I observed his breathing while he slept. We were amazed by every new mannerisms that Patrick displayed. We were so charmed when he first smiled to us. I would observed how gently my husband would treat Patrick and how Patrick would looked up to him, listening to his every word. Mummy supporting and loving baby We were enjoying ourselves as new parents until something happened in the middle of November 2017 that changed our lives forever. "There is something not right with his stools." My sister in law remarked to me while I tiredly changed Patrick's diapers. Menta
I have been encouraged by Cordelia Lee to explore my creative side, she has inspired me to use poetry as a form of self-expression. I find that poetry allows me to express myself in a different way. Though I have to admit, it is still a struggle for me to find the words to express myself. Recently, I was moved for the first time to submit my poetry for an anthology http://www.singlitstation.com/thousandcranes . (Image of poster taken from singlitstation.com) The theme and subject matter somewhat speak to me. The topic of coping with illnesses and death can be a taboo topic and yet all of us will die one day. On the other hand, if we were given a life of immortality without pain and suffering, can we truly live? Will we appreciate our moments in life and the opportunities given to us? Or do we feel empty without a purpose? Indeed, this is not an easy question to answer. I felt good after writing the poem. It gave me a different outlet to express m
I looked at his pale face and frail body on the hospital bed. Lines and tubes on his legs and neck. There was a bag at the right side with yellowish looking water inside. The liquid was not urine but water which had to be pumped out from his stomach cavity. It was difficult to see someone whom you have known since young to look so weak. He had lost weight and aged considerably. It was the second day of Chinese New Year. My sister and I took a trip down to Kuala Lumpur to visit relatives. We visited a cousin at the High Dependency Unit, he had liver cancer and was complaining of diarrhea. Visiting hours were 11.30am to 1.30am and 5.30pm to 7.30pm. We had to take turns going in as only 2 guests at a time are allowed. Despite having the experience of a prolonged stay at the hospital and being immobile, I was tongue tied. I didn’t know what to say or how to comfort him. I could only share with him of my previous struggle at the hospital. On our second visit bef