Wednesday, March 7, 2007

Something is Obviously Wrong With Me...

I have to call my father everynight. It's been some sort of arrangement for the past 15 years of my life and sometimes it's a chore more than anything else.

Yesterday night, as usual, I called him and he tells me he went to the hospital to have a biopsy done. Seems he found a lump under his arm and it could maybe be cancerous.

This is the part where the daughter is suppose to show fear, concern, and worry right?

Apparently not from me. The only thing I could think about at that time was ending the conversation because the room was friggin' hot. Really, no emotion came to me and I was asking myself if there's something wrong with me? Then again, this isn't the first time. Back a few years, my dad practically drank himself to hospitalisation--or at least his condition was indirectly related to those glasses of whiskey he has for breakfast. Over the years, the amount of time his been in and out, I've got sick and tired of showing any sort of concern because I know he relishes in it.

On the other hand, when my mother was going to do a check up for something minor, I was pretty freaked out and I insisted on visiting her in the hospital even though I had no car and the only way was a bus ride and a long walk. Reminded me of my father's first hospitalisation--he made this huge uproar because I hadn't visited him.

I got so friggin' pissed that I *WALKED* all the way to the hospital. Was about half an hour walk from my house.

I think the moment I got so bitter was when I was 17 and during my high school national exam. There was a huge five day gap between a couple of papers and my mother decided I needed a break from studying. She took me to town for a few hours shopping with my brother. During then my father called the house to see if I was studying and obviously no one was home. He then got my brother on the cell phone and yelled about how I should be studying.

Later on, he opened a bottle drank. He insisted that I had dissapointed (the Chinese word for it isn't as gentle) him so that he just had to drown himself in alcohol.

If you want to drink yourself to death go right ahead. Don't you effing use me as an excuse.


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