Wednesday 5 August 2015

Down with dengue

In the slightly over half-a-century of my life, I have so far only required in-patient hospital treatment on two occasions. The first time was in 2001 (I think) when my tonsils were so inflamed that they were causing breathing problems and my doctor advised to have them removed. That particular operation was carried out at an old government military hospital in Kinrara, Puchong. How I ended up undergoing tonsillectomy surgery at a military facility, which today is no longer in operation, is perhaps another story on its own.

The other time I had to be warded in hospital was last week. I was suffering from high fever, headache and muscular pain all over. When the illness did not recede after 4 days, I went to see a GP who quickly suspected that I was down with dengue and suggested that I go to a hospital for a blood test. The next morning, I went to the nearby Puteri Specialist Hospital. Upon registering, the doctor's assistant asked me how long I had been ill. Five days including today, I said. She immediately arranged for a blood test even before the doctor had time to examine me.

By the time the doctor checked in to his clinic after doing his morning rounds, the test results were in. Confirmed I had dengue. Based on the blood platelet count, my condition is not considered too serious. The doctor gave me the option of whether I wish for outpatient treatment. If so, I have to ensure I rigorously take in sufficient fluids and come in daily to do the blood tests. Not wanting to take any risks, I chose to be admitted.

There is actually no specific treatment for dengue fever. The standard medical advice is to drink lots of water. The non-standard advice are many... consume crab soup, drink pomegranate juice, take in lots of isotonic drinks and perhaps the most frequent advice of all, as suggested by well-meaning friends and relatives who have suffered the same, drink the juice extracted from papaya leaf shoots. I tried them all... but the papaya leaf juice takes the cake when it comes to comparison of tastes. I managed to down one small glass of the stuff. It was the most bitter liquid concoction I have ever swallowed. All good medicines are bitter, they say. But this one is right up there on the bitterness scale.

The first night I was in hospital, an IV drip was inserted in my left hand. To further aid recovery, I drank copious amounts of plain water. This regime meant that I visited the toilet more often. Dragging the IV stand to the toilet every time I had to pee was somewhat inconvenient, but what to do. At first, I kept count of how many times I got up to relieve myself but when I pass the figure of ten, I stopped counting.

Alhamdulillah, my blood platelet count improved after the third day and I was allowed to go home. I am now resting at home and recovering well. Dengue fever in Malaysia is reaching alarming proportions. According to the Ministry of Health, the number of reported cases for the 6 months of this year has reached more than 56,000, a 34% increase over the same period last year. There have already been 162 deaths.

Very serious indeed. Please take care. Thank you to my dear friends and relatives for the kind thoughts and prayers.

IV needle attached to left hand
Crab soup. Normally delicious but when you have no appetite..
Papaya leaf juice. Top of the bitterness scale..

Sunday 19 July 2015

Aidilfitri 1436H / 2015M

The aidilfitri celebration, like most other religious and cultural festivals in Malaysia, is a time when family members gather for the chance to reinforce or renew relationships. It is a time when sons and daughters, who work in the city, make the trip back to their respective home-towns or villages to spend the first day of Syawal with their parents. For those whose parents have already departed, it then becomes a day of remembrance and reminiscing the memories of hari raya days of a long time ago.

I am very lucky to still have both father and mother to celebrate this special ocassion with. However, for the past two years, the annual family gathering had been a bit different. Last year, my father spent his hari raya in the ward of National University Hospital in Singapore. He was suffering from pneumonia and was hospitalised for a total of 42 days. This year, on the third day of fasting, my mother had a heart attack and was transported to the same hospital in an ambulance. She was discharged just 2 days before Aidilfitri, after undergoing treatment for 24 days. She is now staying with me for a short while before I have to send her to be re-admitted to another hospital for further therapy.

Praise be to the Almighty. I am counting my blessings each day.

Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri to all my friends and readers. May all of you be in good health and joyful spirit.

Masjid Ubudiah in Kuala Kangsar, Perak. Pic taken in May 2015.

Sunday 12 July 2015

The Cave of The Seven Sleepers

On the outskirts of Amman, the capital of Jordan, there is a historic site where it is believed that seven young men hid in a cave to escape religious persecution from their tyrant ruler. They fell asleep for what they thought to be a day or so, but turned out to be for a much longer period. Upon rising from their slumber, one of the youths went out to the nearby town to buy food and when he wanted to pay for his purchase, the shop owner discovered that the coins offered came from a time when a different emperor ruled many years earlier.

This story of the People of The Cave or As-habul Kahfi, is well-known in Islamic teachings and even has a parallel in Christian tradition. The story is mentioned in Surah 18 of the holy Al-Qur'an, beginning from Verse 9 to Verse 26. While popular accounts put the number of the young men at 7, the Qur'an does not give an exact figure. Verse 22 indicates the possible number at 3 or 5 or 7, but with a gentle reminder from the Almighty that such an uncertainty should not be leading us to arguments amongst ourselves. Only the Lord knows... plus a few others. And who might these few others be, I wonder.

Another interesting aspect of this story is that the young men had a dog with them. This pet canine kept watch at the cave's entrance, possibly deterring any unwanted parties from venturing into the cave and discovering the hiding place. Such a loyal trait that has been recorded in divine revelation.

Within those 18 verses that tell the story of the cave-sleepers is perhaps another important lesson for the Muslim faithful. Verse 23 and 24 are translated as such :

23 - And never say of anything, "Indeed, I will do that tomorrow,"

24 - Except [when adding], "If Allah wills." And remember your Lord when you forget [it] and say, "Perhaps my Lord will guide me to what is nearer than this to right conduct."

The said verses impart to us the need to cite the phrase `Insha Allah', meaning `if Allah wills' whenever we mention our intention to carry out something in the future. There is an interesting backstory to this.

Prophet Muhammad (sallalahu alaihi wa-sallam) faced a lot of scepticism and doubters during his early days of preaching to the people of Makkah. The leaders of Makkah sent two of their men to check with the Jewish rabbis of Madinah on Muhammad's claim of being a prophet. Since the Jews are people of the book, they would have more knowledge about such matters. The men described the new prophet and his teachings to the rabbis who then told them to ask Muhammad (s.a.w.) three questions, the answers to which would reveal the proof of authenticity.

 "Ask him about three things which we will tell you to ask, if he answers them then he is a Prophet who has been sent (by Allah); if he does not, then he is saying things that are not true, in which case how you will deal with him will be up to you. Ask him about some young men in ancient times, what was their story? For there is a strange and wondrous tale. Ask him about a man who traveled a great deal and reached the east and the west of the earth. What was his story? And ask him about the Ruh (soul or spirit), what is it?"

The men returned to Makkah and relayed the questions to the Prophet (s.a.w.) who accordingly replied, "I will tell you tomorrow." He had neglected to add, "Insha Allah".

The Prophet (s.a.w.) waited for Allah's revelation to enable him to give the answers. A whole day passed and the revelation did not come. As more days went by without any divine assistance, the people of Makkah made more fun of him and accused him of not keeping to his word. The Messenger of Allah was very sad to face such ridicule. It was only after 15 days that the angel Jibreel (alaihi-salam) came to the Messenger with the revelation of Surah Al-Kahfi which had the answers to questions posed by the rabbis. Indeed, also contained within the surah is the subtle reminder on the proper etiquette when promising to do something. Allahu-akbar!

And so my friends, what about the questions concerning the man who traveled a great deal or about the Ruh? Perhaps I will explore the answers to these questions in future postings... insha 'Allah.

Signboard at the cave site
Entrance to the cave located at a hill slope

Footnote : Apart from this place in Jordan, another site in Turkey called Ephesus also claims to be the Cave of the 7 Sleepers.

Monday 6 July 2015

A picture paints a thousand words

In almost all of my non-fiction articles in this blog, I have included a photo or two of the subject matter in question. A well-taken and relevant photograph helps to make the post interesting. In my early days of blogging, I have sometimes resorted to 'borrowing' some images from cyberspace because my own stock of original photos had not reached a sizeable collection yet. When this happens, I would credit the original website by providing a link within the article. I'm not sure if this would suffice as an acknowledgement of copyright but I make sure that none of the borrowed pics are used for commercial gain.

Nowadays, all the pics which I use to accompany any of my posts shall be my own original photos. After 8 years of blogging and hundreds of published postings, the number of photos I have uploaded to the internet is quite substantial. And if we are to include the photo albums I have on my Facebook account, the overall quantity is not insignificant.

Which now brings us to the reverse situation where any one of my photos available on cyberspace could be borrowed by another person. I had thought of this possibility some years ago. I wouldn't mind if my pics are being used by another party as long as they credit the source. But I guess in the super-duper huge borderless world of cyberspace, this seems to be an unrealistic request.

Two days ago, a friend shared a link on FB for the recipe for char kway teow, the so-called `wet' version that's so popular up north. When I first glimpsed at the photo accompanying the recipe, I thought it looked so familiar. I scrolled through my hard-disk for the stock of my original CKT pics (yes, I now have quite a few) and sure enough, I found the same photo which was snapped in 2012 when I sampled the dish at a roadside outlet in Taman Perling in JB. I had uploaded that photo both in this blog and in the Johor Sedap FB page.

Screenshot of the FB link
The original photograph, taken using a Blackberry
I then clicked on the link where the full recipe was shown. It is a page run by someone primarily to sell slimming products targeted at the fairer sex. Beneath the recipe was written `copy-paste', meaning that the page administrator had copied the recipe (and presumably the pic) from elsewhere. I did further search on Google and found that the recipe/article is actually an app on Google Play.

So how do I feel that a pic of mine is being used by someone else? I'm not sure yet... in one sense it feels fine that one's handiwork is good enough to be used by others. On the other hand, a simple credit to the original source would be nice too.

Anyway, just to let you know that the stall where I had this plate of CKT is no longer operating, or perhaps has moved to another location. A bit sad, really... because the taste wasn't too bad. Comparable to the ones I have tried in Butterworth and Bukit Mertajam in Penang.

Monday 29 June 2015

Iftar in the Little Red Dot down south

I have previously written that the most significant event by which I mark the passage of time is the coming of the holy month of Ramadhan. Not my birthday or my wedding anniversary, but the arrival of the fasting month every year.

Tonight we are already entering the 13th day of Ramadhan of the Hijri year 1436. I have yet to put up a post to mark the occasion. So I guess I'd better squeeze in something before the month of June leaves us. Otherwise this effort of blog revival would not seem serious enough.

Last Saturday, I made a trip across the Causeway to the Little Red Dot to visit my parents. That's what some people call the tiny island nation of Singapore. I kid you not... just google those 3 words and the search engine will give you the city-state as the top result.

My mother is actually at the National University Hospital, recovering from a heart attack that occurred the previous Saturday. She is now in the normal ward after being in the ICU for 6 days. Alhamdulillah, she seems to be getting better although, for such an ailment to befall any senior citizen of her age, the overall effect of the attack is yet to be ascertained. Nonetheless, there is much we can be grateful for and to continue with our prayers.

Since mom is not at home, I had to look for somewhere to break my fast. Small matter actually. After about two hours of keeping mom company, I headed out to the old Masjid Hajjah Fatimah at the Beach Road area of downtown Singapore. My father is presently there on part-time duty as a muezzin (bilal, in Malay). In fact nowadays, he spends most of his time at this particular mosque, which is quite a distance from where he lives in Bukit Batok. There is another mosque just across the apartment block of his house, Masjid Ar-Raudah, but he still prefers the travel to Hajjah Fatimah, even though it means taking two different bus routes to get there. I don't have to ask him why, because I can well guess the answer. Sentimental reasons. Beach Road (or more accurately Kampung Glam) is the area where he grew up. No doubt, the kampung house of my late grandmother is no longer there but I'm pretty sure nothing beats the feeling of being in familiar surroundings of one's childhood days.

Masjid Hajjah Fatimah was built in 1846. Wow, that is a really long time ago. It is fairly small in size by modern standards but has unique architecture and historical connection. It is now a national monument of Singapore. One of the famous characteristic of this mosque is its leaning minaret, which is off-centre by 6 degrees.

While my father made the call for Maghrib prayer, which is also the indicator for the end of the daily fast, I sat down in the verandah together with other muslim brothers to break our fast. It was a simple meal of rice porridge plus mutton briyani served in a tray, to be shared at 4 persons to a tray. The meal was cooked in the mosque compound and paid for by donations from anonymous well-wishers. Simple and humble communal feasting at its best.

An old minaret surrounded by modern towers
Waiting for the time to break fast
Mutton briyani rice to be shared, with rice porridge for starters