Really, it's been one negative thing after another: my children's theatre contract from last year was terminated (with good reason, but that's beside the point); a couple of 'friends' demanded their money back for the travesty-trainwreck that was The Dollmaker's Daughter, which drove me into a tailspin; some potential plans for productions next year have yet to materialise (story of my life); I applied for a children's theatre residency in Japan but was not accepted; several grants I applied for were rejected; I had a very discouraging talk with a couple of theatre producers who basically said writing English musicals in Malaysia was an effing waste of time; and just last Thursday, the producers I'd been in talks with to do a musical during an arts festival this October (which had been in the planning for over a year) finally decided to pull out as Kakiseni, the useless organisers of the festival, have been unable to convince us that the project will go off without a hitch. That really was the final straw that led to a mini-meltdown (or not so mini, as it turned out) after meeting with the aforementioned producers who pulled out. Basically I came home, smashed things (including my new phone and new glasses), and ended up crying in front of my mum, which is, you know, an artist's dream come true. Sigh.
|Casualties of the tanty.|
Meanwhile, it was certainly a dramatic few days last week for my mum, too. It started the night before my meltdown when I made the folly of parking my car in the drive in front of the gate (i.e. the nose of the car facing the gate, its butt sticking out a little into the street). Later that evening there was a hubbub outside, and it turns out some moron had parked his car across the street perpendicular to my car, so the through-way between both our awkwardly parked vehicles was too narrow for other vehicles. Subsequently there was a whole line of cars all stuck, and I had to move my car, with difficulty. I swear, I was enraged - a little unnecessarily so, which probably warrants some discussion with the therapist. Anyway, I moved the car and was thereafter bombarded with insults from the driver of the lead car that had been stuck, basically accusing me of "not having cow sense" (sic) and yelling, "What kind of neighbour are you?" Cut to me losing my shit and screaming ridiculous things back at him while my mum looked on helplessly and while the surrounding neighbours, no doubt, got an earful too. All in all, not my finest moment.
Thursday was the night of my sobfest; then Friday another dramatic thing happened. You see, my brother had finished work at 9pm, so I decided to go to Tropicana City Mall and pick him up (and also to get ice cream). At TCM, I waited and waited and waited for him but I couldn't see him. Tried calling his mobile multiple times but it went to voice mail, and I even called home to tell my folks that I couldn't find him. About 40 minutes later, I called him again and he finally picked up and told me he was at 7-Eleven. So I drove up to the 7-11 and saw him sitting there. I honked, and he got up and staggered to the side of the thoroughfare in front of the mall. I saw him look around but he didn't seem to see my car. So I honked, and honked again, and each time he reacted, albeit failed to come over to the car.
Finally, I got out of the car and called his name, and even then he didn't seem to be turning in the right direction. Turns out he was completely disoriented, practically stoned, and couldn't even answer my questions: "Where were you? What's wrong? What did you do?" Basically it was like he had been sleepwalking, barely able to acknowledge me. So I had to guide him to the car and even help him get inside as he couldn't seem to figure out what to do. Frantic (but surprisingly calm), I called home, told the folks something was wrong, and we would meet at Dr Liow's in Uptown. So I drove Kev there, while he kept dozing off in the car, muttering incoherently when I tried to keep him awake. When we got to Uptown, Mum helped him get to the doctor's (poor mum, all frantic and panicky and emotional), while I parked and bought my bro a couple bottles of soft drink as we figured this was definitely diabetes-related.
Turns out he had a case of hypoglycaemia, which was probably caused by his injecting insulin prior to dinner, which would've been his first meal in over eight hours, and which had been far too small. Subsequently the insulin had caused his blood sugar level to plummet to a startling 1.9 (4.5 to 6 is the usual healthy blood-sugar level). So the doctor, a locum who responded very professionally and in-chargey (I always tend to think of locums as mere stand-ins who I can't trust as much as my regular doctor, but that's really a neither-here-nor-there prejudice), gave my brother some glucose solution (I think; I wasn't in the room all the time) and also told me to get him a fresh shirt as he had sweated through his clothes, cold sweats that threatened hypothermia. Which leads me to this little Starbucks-related incident (I've since let it go though).
All in all, about half an hour after being in the doc's care, bro was better again, and about an hour after being admitted, we were free to go home, all safe and sound. But whew, what a night!!! Thankfully everyone's okay (though I'm a little worse for wear, bwah-ahaha). And wouldn't you know it, first thing I did before heading back home was to swing by the Baskin-Robbins because, hey, I'd set out to get ice cream after all! And say what you want: after that whole diabetes-related scare, I think I deserved an ice cream at one o'clock in the morning lying in bed. Wouldn't you??
Well, that's all for now, folks. Thanks for checking in, and come back soon for more updates. Just like me, this blog isn't going anywhere just yet. Till next time. Bye.