To right a wrong.

I am auditing a hospital now.
Funny eh? I have fate with doctors and hospitals. When dad tried to force me to do medicine, and I ended up going into business, I bet he and I alike never thought I would still end up be working in a hospital.

I tapped away furiously at my laptop today. The flurry of laughter surrounding me, but I am in daze. I can hear them, but they are not there. Or maybe I am not there. How can a mind be split into two thinking parts, I wondered. One part, so focused on my work, so determined to numb myself. And yet the other, it never stops thinking. Not once.

I could hear them passing around kuihs and chocolate cookies. St Michael's, I noticed, in a faraway manner. The nurses teased each other, sharing their tea goodies while they perfected their lecture slides. Perfect? I used to know what is. I thought I knew.

Shuffling feet sounds neared me. I continued typing away. "Girl, you take one!" The one in the green nurse uniform shoved the box of St. Michael biscuits which I have recognised just now into my face. Flustered, I declined, with waving hands. I am just here doing my work, I vaguely remember saying . "No no! You are in our room! You are one of us! You must take one!" and she waves the box of biscuits in front of my face, not to take no for an answer. Smiling, I took one, just to appease her. I chose the one nearest to me. Incidentally, it was the lumpiest, ugliest cookie there. But there are no ugly cookies in the world. The nurse in the light blue uniform pushed into my hands a plastic cup of warm water. "You will need this as well!" They left some napkins on my table, and walked back to their friends, swallowed by lighthearted chatter.

I clasped my hand around the plastic cup. It was warm. More than warm, almost hot. Just what I needed. 'Cause I was so cold. Such an ordinary act of kindness, but I teared.

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I thought of my mom today. Maybe it was the kind, motherly women I was surrounded with. But for some reason, I thought of how she used to brush my hair while I lied on her lap. "Mummy loves you", she would tell me. And I always reply absent-mindedly albeit with gusto, "I love you too, mummy!" while I continued to play with my Barbie's hair, while my mom played with mine.

I have never told her any of my problems. Not when I was a kid. 'Cause failure is not tolerated in my family. I never tell her when kids make fun of me, when the crush I had when I was 12 showed my love letter to everyone. Not when I was a teen, and I was angry and angsty. I hate you, I remembered telling her. I didn't tell her that I wanted to be accepted. I wanted to be cool. I didn't want to be one of the smartest girl in school, I just want to go to the movies with my friends. Not when I was in university. Not when I fell in love for the first time. Not when I felt stifled being forced into doing something I don't like. Not when I went abroad for the first time. I seldom call home, I call my sisters straight instead. Not when I was lonely, and wished for my family. And now, not when I am working. Not when all I want is to head home and call it quits. Not when everything is falling apart.

But now, but today, I wondered how it would be, if I lie down on her lap, and just cry softly into the soft, laundered pants of hers. I wonder what advice would she give me, what wise words would she used.

I wish she knows this.

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Yesterday, I did possibly the most right thing in my life.

And I gained back one of my oldest, dearest friend. :)