Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Do You Want To Exist In Your Life?

Recently I was watching The Real Housewives of Orange County (I'm a sucker for reality TV and the RH series is my crack), and the topic of happiness resonated with me, enough to inspire writing this post.

One of the ladies was having trouble with her marriage in that she and her husband had reached a place in their life where they had everything they could possibly "need", but they were unhappy.
A big house, a boat, expensive clothing, trips around the world; they have all of this, and yet they aren't happy.

Why is that?
Isn't society teaching us that these are the key ingredients to the happily-ever-after formula?
Isn't it practically written somewhere that if you follow a specific, responsible path, it will lead to having money, a family, status, and that you will be happy?
Isn't that why parents push their kids to do well in school so that they can get into a university to be backed up by a piece of paper that will eventually allow them to sustain such a life, thus resulting in the "key" to happiness?

I can say that I've been to university.
I have a degree. As a matter of fact I have two.
I worked at a job that paid well, a job that had all the benefits needed in order to be "secure" in life.
At the risk of sounding cocky, yes I was very good at my job and I could with time grow into a higher-ranking position at the company. Just before I left I was offered a higher position with better pay.
So why did I leave?

From a young age I've always realized that nothing can make you happy but you.
Money doesn't buy you happiness. Money buys you things.
How you utilize these things in your life is what makes you happy.

We create our own happiness.
As Oprah-ish at it sounds, what we want from life is what we put out there.

If you eat an entire chocolate cake by yourself, there are two ways you can feel after you eat it.
You can either choose to think:
"Man, that was a damn good cake. I'm so going to get fat from it, but I'll try and work it off. Or maybe I won't, I don't really care. All I know is, I enjoyed that cake".
Or you can think:
"Wow, that cake was good. Crap. Now I'm going to get fat from it. Damn it, I have to go to the gym. What if I don't go to they gym? What if I can't work off that cake? Oh no, I really AM going to get fat from it. WHY did I eat that cake?? All of this could have been avoided if I had just not eaten the cake!"

The money bought you the cake; either way you look at it, the cake is destined to have the same effect on your body. You can go to they gym or you can not go to the gym, it doesn't matter.
Your attitude towards the cake after you have eaten it is what determines your happiness, because life is what you make of it.
The chocolate cake will always be there, whether you take it or not.
The question is do you try to take it, and once you have had it, what is your reaction to it?

Whenever I look at my family or my friends going about their lives, trying to work towards that certain "happiness goal", I can't help but think that our life paths could not be more different.
That's not to say that I don't want the same outcome as they do, because I do.
Eventually I would like to settle down and get married and have kids and lead a simple life.
But for now, I want to stir things up a bit.

I want to scare myself.
I want to challenge myself.
I want to do things no one expects me to do.

Why? Because, where is the fun in life if you're just going to do what everyone else does?
If at the end of our lives we all look back and say we've followed the same path, what interesting stories will we have to talk about?

I love my friends and family. We all have our roles to play in life, and I am sincerely happy and love that they have found and are walking the paths they have chosen in their lives.
I just think it's not for me.
I'm too much of a wild soul, a nomad by nature, to be settling this early in my life.

All my life I have always said that no matter what career path I choose, all I want to do is travel.
I've been fortunate enough to say that I love travelling.
Through travelling I have been exposed to so much more wealth and knowledge than money can ever buy me.
There is no greater teacher than mankind itself.
The world is our textbook and life is our degree.

I wanted to travel, but in order to do so, I needed money. I was always searching for ways that would combine the two, without even realizing that there was one clear option staring me in the face.
So, for those of you that have asked, this is the reason as to why I chose to pursue a career as a flight attendant. At least for the next few years, until another crazy idea takes hold of me.

Yes I'll be moving thousands of miles away to another country.
Yes I'll be saying goodbye to everyone and everything in my life that I love.
Yes, I'll be removed from my comfort zone.

But that is exactly what I want.

I want to be in an environment where I don't already know where the nearest place to go buy airtime is.
I want to be completely anonymous in a city; I want the city to swallow me up and allow me to disappear into it.
Let's face it, everyone knows everyone in Cape Town, and everyone has an opinion on everyone.

As much as I adore Cape Town, I've grown tired of it and the same repeated drama and stories in it.
I need a change of scenery.
I need to try new types of food.
I need new faces.
I need new people and the new stories that come with them.
I need new adventures.

People ask me: "Aren't you scared?" To be honest, no not really.
What would I be scared of?
I'm not moving to the middle of the jungle where there is no hospital or cell phone reception nearby.
Dubai has doctors and internet, you know.
If I need to speak to my family or friends, that's why I have Skype / Facebook / Twitter/ Whatsapp / Instagram / BBM/ Emails.
There are so many ways to be connected with people, and with modern medicine there really isn't anything to be afraid of.

Then I get the question: "Aren't you going to miss everyone?"
Of course I will.
But doesn't absence make the heart grow fonder?
I think being away from someone allows you to appreciate them that much more.
Too much of something is overkill, and soon you can't help but grow tired of it.

I don't even look at this as a challenge, because it isn't one.
I'm not really a fan of using the word "challenge" outside of the context of a sporting environment.
Things can be 'challenging' without actually being a 'challenge' per se.
A challenge is the breeding ground for competition, and this is life we're talking about.
You cannot 'win' at life because no matter what we do, at the end of it all we all have the same fate.

As with almost all things in life, I look at this as an experience.
Whether any experience is good or bad, I will learn from it.
I've always lived by the notion that one should not focus on what was the best or worst part about an experience, but rather focus on what it is that you learned from it.
That way you gain knowledge from it, and through knowledge is how we grow as people.

I know that for some reason people are afraid of dying.
Personally, I'm not afraid of death. I have no fear of dying whatsoever. Why would I fear death?
After you're dead, you're literally just dead. What's so scary about that?
No, I'm not afraid of death.
But I am terrified of not living.
I try not to think too much about the good or bad outcomes of a choice or path in life, but rather try and think of how I will feel if I don't go for it in the first place.
For example, in the past when an international act would come to Cape Town to perform and the concert tickets were pricey, I would always ask myself is not going worth more than losing a few hundreds?
Would I regret not having the memory of that night more than I would regret spending the cash?
That's pretty much the reason why I have been to every concert that I have been to.
That's the sort of "happiness" formula that I apply to my life.
I don't want to have life FOMO.

So to you I pose the question, do you want to exist in your life?
Or do you want to go out there and actually LIVE?

Whether it be with regards to this new chapter in my life, or anything else that comes up in the future, I personally feel that it's not about the end goal or the journey even.
For me, it's about looking back and thinking that no matter what, I can say that I did it.

And isn't that really the whole point of life?
:)


Saturday, September 21, 2013

How To Shower A Baby Momma

My cousin Saajidah is the first grand kid in my dad's side of the family to get married and to be pregnant. 
This was the first Baby Shower I attended and of course I was not about to miss it, even if I was running on just 5 hours of sleep.
Baby momma is here!
I kicked ass on the nursery rhyme quiz.
The lack of sleep got the better of me when it came to unscrambling the words of this all-things-baby quiz.
WINNERS' SWAG.
My granny's face is totes trolling.
In just a few weeks we'll see the behbeh!

Saturday, June 15, 2013

#HospiTales

I recently had an operation to have a nasal polyp removed from my sinus cavity (basically a non-cancerous growth).

This is the second one I've had, and the last time I sent some videos to my friends in my drugged up state. Only afterwards I realized how hilarious and nonsensical they were, so this time I decided to keep a little bit of a journal of all the randoms drug-induced thoughts I was having, and this what they resulted in:

I'm having an op at Jummah time.
Is this a sign I'm going to die?

Am I ready to die?
I've had a good life haven't I?
I'm not afraid of dying. Sure my mom would miss me. But hey, life insurance would pay out to my her.

Oh Jesus. Take the wheel.

Anaesthesiologist: "Oh my, what lovely veins you've got".

Who is this old guy hitting on me through my veins?

My hearing is muffled. This stuff makes the world quieter??

Last thing I remember smelling before being put under was a mixture of biryani & sterilizer.
Jummah time in a slamse hospital (GMC) is weird like that.

Last thing I remember thinking as they were putting me to sleep:
"Woah."

Last thing I remember saying as they put me to sleep:
"Oh, its worki.."

[Dead to the world for a solid 2 & a half hours]

"Rasheeda, take a deep breath".
I am.
"Rasheeda? Take a deep breath, sweetheart".
Bitch, I AM.
"Give her a nebulizer".
I'm breathing?!

I refuse to open my eyes.
I can't.
Can I though if I wanted to?
Screw that, not even gonna try.

Someone: "We're just gonna put this over your face".

LET ME SLEEP.

Me: "What time is it? How long was the op?"

No, take off the nebulizer, it's hurting me. The air is too cold for my nose.
Why is no one listening to me?
Am I actually talking out loud or just thinking that I am?

Someone: "Just lift your head up quickly please?"

Sure thing.
Wait. No.
Stop.
I can't.
It hurts.

Did I just lift my head??

I'm freezing. Somebody, no really, help me. I'm freezing.
People, HELLO?
Can they see me waiving??

Me: "Guys, I'm really cold".

Am I going crazy? Can people hear me and are ignoring me, or is this all me thinking I'm talking only?
I could open my eyes to check but...do I really want to?

It hurts when I talk, so I must be talking.
Right?

God I'm thirsty.

Throat feels like sandpaper.

Did I dream while under? I think I dreamed.

That only felt like 10 minutes though?

Me: "Can someone tell me what the time is?".

Why must they wake a person just to make sure the anesthesia didn't kill you?

Rude.

So cold.
Like,
COLD.

Why does my left hand feel so dead?
Why is my left arm so cold?

Holy shit, I am actually freezing.

*Body starts to twitch*

Did I die?

All I want in life right now is a glass of water; a strepsil; BLANKETS; and a dark, sound-proof room to sleep.

JUST LET ME DIE.

*Opens eyes*

Why the hell is it so bright in here?
Are all these lights really necessary?

Me: "Nurse. My face is starting to kill me.
Nurse?
NURSE."

Oh FFS.

Me: "HELLOOOO?".

Did she really just tell me to ask the other lady?

Me: "Nurse, my face is really sore. Right here under my right eye".
Nurse: "Let me check what drugs were prescribed".

*Checks chart. Fiddles with my IV*

*BLISS*

I honestly can't tell whether I'm asleep or not.

I need to cover my face with the blanket. The air is way too cold for me. When I inhale, it's like I can feel it in my brain.

Someone: "Is sy alright?".
Someone else: "Ya, sy's koud".
Someone: "But can she breathe like that?".

No, I died. Leave me be.

Another someone: "Hoekom is daar a blanket op haar face?".

*Someone takes the blanket off my face*
"Are you okay?"

Jesus.

Jesus please help me.

Can someone please tell me when I'm going back to my room?
I keep hearing someone calling for a "PORTER!" But no one comes?

Cannot open my eyes again.

Why is this blanket not darker?

Can we quieten the world again? Please?

Okay, I know we're at least moving now, that much I can sense.

*My bed is bumped into a wall*

FML.

I hear what sounds like my mom:

"Oh, here she is.
What's wrong with her face??"
Someone: "No, she's just cold".
Mom: "How was it? Everything go okay? Rasheeda? How you feeling?"

Me: "Freezing.
Sore".

Nurse: "Wow, her hands and feet are like ice. Must I get her another blanket?".

YES, NURSE, I'M COLD.

But why are my neck & shoulders sore though?

Me: "Mommy, I have gloves in my bag, please put the one on for me. On my IV hand.
No, just one.
Yes, like Michael Jackson".

Nurse: "Oh shame, why are you crying?? Are you in pain??"

Me: "No, I'm cold".

Why am I crying??

Drugs are stupid.

Drugs are amazing.

Me: "And my socks & pyjama pants please Mommy?
I think I can pull my pants up from here, thanks".

NOPE.

That morphine is starting to kick in now.

Me: "Oh, Salaam, Daddy. Yes, my face is cold. Blanket stays on, thanks".

Can I move? Like, is it possible?
Oh, why bother.

Do people normally talk this much?

Are people always this loud?

People are annoying.

I wonder how long I must wait til I can get some water.

*Tries to swallow spit*
MOTHER FUCKING NO.
NEVER AGAIN.

Someone please quieten the sun down.

Me, with my blanket still on my face: "Yes, I'm still awake".

My entire body tingles.

Why am I so sore though?

I need to sleep.
I should sleep.

I wonder if I have any messages on my phone?

You can't even open your eyes, idiot. Forget your phone.

But people must be wondering if I'm okay?

Oh fuck it, I'm too tired.

Me: "Okay mommy, see you all tonight.
Yes, please bring my eye mask.
And another blanket. I'm FREEZING".

*Hours later*

Why the hell is it so hot?
Where am I?
Omg my face hurts.

OH THE PAIN.

I need to take these blankets off.
I can't move.
Can I move?
Someone get these blankets off.
OMG I'm gonna boil to death in a hospital bed.

*Lifts blanket*

HARDEST WORKOUT OF MY LIFE.

Thank God for drugs.

*Madonna starts playing in my head*

Give me all your drugs please, give me your drugs. Give me all your drugs today.

Drugs druggs druggges drugged drugged.

Is my mental speech also slurred?
Like, my thoughts I mean?
Are they also slurred when I think?

YUP.

Say yes to drugs, kids.

LOL.

*Passes out*

Lady: "Hi, just coming to take your order for tomorrow. Would you like yoghurt or fruit?"
Me: "Yes".

Lady: "You can't have both".
Rude?

Me: "What kind of yoghurt is it?"

DOES IT EVEN MATTER.
YOU CAN'T TASTE.

Me: "What kind of fruit?"

Seriously?
Idiot.
Just take the yoghurt.

Yes.
THE STRAWBERRY FLAVOUR.
DUH.

Do I really want All bran for breakfast tomorrow though?
That's gonna hurt like a mofo.
But cornflakes? No man.

Me: "All bran please.
Cold milk".

What if you're cold tomorrow?
Me: "Actually, warm milk".

Ew, warm milk? With All bran?
Me: "No. Cold milk. Thanks".

Cranberry, Apple, or Orange juice?
Is she really asking me to pick this NOW?
What if I want something less sweeter tomorrow?

Just say orange juice.

Me: "Cranberry please".

Cottage pie, or chicken & mushroom pie?
Wait, what's the difference?

I think the room is moving backwards.
What I mean is, things are moving backwards.
As in, away from me.

Things are retreating.

God, is English always this hard?

Is thinking always this hard?

Did that lady really just leave my door open?

*Presses the 'call nurse' button*

Me: "Hi, how long do I have to wait until I can drink some water?"
Nurse: "I'll find out".
Me: "Okay thanks, and please close the door".

Geez, I have so many messages on my phone.
Can't deal with people right now.
Also, hello, I can't form a proper sentence even if I tried?

Put the phone down, Rash.

Twitter is so much fun.

*Snorts at something funny*
OW?!!!

How are people so funny?
Why can't I be funny?

Great, now I can't stop crying.

I really hope no one comes to see me like this.
I'm a total mess right now.That would be embarrassing.

What if no one comes to see me?
Like, at all?

CAN YOU STOP WITH THE CRYING?

Oh!
Food!
Yes! I haven't eaten since Thursday night, and it's like what, Maghrib on Friday already?
This is like a record, right?

Am I hungry though?

Do I really care.

Btw, where's that lady with my water??

Me to the Lady: "Yes, you can put the light on".

WORST DECISION OF MY LIFE.

Lady: "Can I put your bed up or must I just leave the food here on the trolley so long?"

I seriously don't want to move right now.
Plus, I've done this before, I know which buttons to press to move the bed up.

Me: "You can just leave it, thanks".

Water!
Yes!
Finally.

Where's that button for the bed?
Bingo.

*Presses button*
Nothing's happening?

*Presses another button*
WTF?

Oh! The power button, stupid.

*Presses power button and nothing happens*

Omg.
The bed is broken.

JOY.

I can sit up though right?

NOPE.

It's fine, I'll just reach for it.

Where's the glass?

Good Lord.
She brought a pitcher and no glass.

All that effort and no reward.

Why are you punishing me like this, God?

*Cries*

Omg, I'm naked.
How did I forget I was naked?

What is pinching my arm like that?
There's a needle PUNCTURING YOU, REMEMBER?

No I need water. Let me call the nurse for a glass.

*Beeping noise happens*
*Someone looks into the window and walks away*

Da fuq?

KAY.

Let me see what food I got.



OH YES.

But wait, can I taste that?

No.

Tastes like nothing.

*Cries*

Me: "Hi, yes, can I get a glass for this water?"
Lady: "Here's the glass ma'am?"

It was behind the pitcher this whole time?!
FML.

*Takes a sip of water for the first time in 12 hours*

SWEET NECTAR OF THE GODS RIGHT THERE.

Let me put the TV on while I eat my nothingness.
Oh yeah, the Proteas are playing, right?

Is this match live?
I can't tell.

*Sigh* Can't watch this right now. Too slow.

I already feel slow as it is.

Friday night TV is stupid.

Wait a sec...
Do I....?
Do I taste salt?!

Yes. Ladies & gentlemen, YES.
I can taste salt!

*Douses food in salt*

Do you think they'll let me put salt on my All bran tomorrow?

I don't know what is in this burger, but it's soft and warm and therefore I like it.

Eating really shouldn't be this painful.

I have never seen Meet Joe Black.
I'm watching it midway and I have no idea what's going on.
I at least I know this is a movie because in real life, nobody pushes Hannibal Lecter around, especially not pretty boy, Pitt.

Why is he talking with a Jamaican accent though?
This movie is stupid.

It's taking me hours to open my jelly & custard because I refuse to bend the arm with the IV in it.

CRUEL.

*2 minutes later*

This jelly tastes kak.
It's like jelly and custard soup.

Not worth the struggle.
I wonder if Madiba ever felt that way?

*Hours later*

Me to Taslimah, my little sister:
"You need to help me pee.
Yes I'm butt naked.
Just deal.
Trust me, this hurts me more than you".

*Tries to sit up, room spins, falls back down*

Me: "Okay I can't get up.
Get some tissue, and make your hands into a cup shape.
What?
I NEED TO PEE."

*After they've left*

This nurse wants me to swallow pills the size of my pinky.
Is she then JAS.

"Cut it in half", she says.
"It won't scratch your throat", she says.
How about I klap you rather?

*Random nurse opens the door*

Nurse: "Are you diabetic??"
Me: "No...?"
Nurse: "Phew, ok good".

Uhm?
I feel super safe now, thanks.

*Later*

I can't sleep. The drugs have worn off.
I'm in pain
It's 3am.
Everyone is asleep and I can't sleep.

You know the nurse is going to come in here again in an hour to wake you to check you're not dead, right?
Or as she likes to call it "take your blood pressure".

I need more drugs.
Gimme the goods.

I'm not an addict, I just had an op?!
I'm in pain, leave me be.

I wonder how long I have to wait before the next batch of painkillers are given?

Whatever, I'll just watch Made in Chelsea on my laptop.

What kind of name is 'Caggie' anyways?
Sounds like a mode of transportation.

Is that short for something?
Catherine?
Candice
Camile.
Charlotte?
Cassandra?

...Cagassent?

I wonder what time is breakfast?
I know I ordered the eggs, but maybe I can get the pancakes too?

Stop judging.

It's 4am and a lady wants to come clean my bathroom.
Right now?
Seriously?
If I were sleeping & she woke me for THAT, I'd be pissed.

Yesssss. New drugssssss.

Who drinks tea / coffee at 5am?!
People are stupid.

Nurse: "You're a very nice patient. Quiet".

It's the drugs, lady.

The Help is on.
I could pull of a Southern accent pretty darn well.
*Mumbles something slurred*

I wonder if Emma Stone will marry Andrew Garfield?
She should organize with Ryan Gosling rather.

*Sigh*. Ryan Gosling.

[Day of checkout is here]

So much tiredness.

Last meal for the day.
Not even slightly hungry.
But yes, of course I can eat the dessert.

Mom's here. I can checkout!
I can go home & sleep!

Where's the nurse to get this pipe out my arm??

Me: "Omg no Mommy, you cannot pull it out. Do you want me to die?"

Nurse: "Bite your teeth. This is gonna hurt".

MOER.

Oh look, I no longer have hair on a patch of my arm from the massive sticker thing that just ripped it all out. Can I get pain meds for that?

No?

K.

Cool.

Thanks.

*DEUCES*