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A little humor to comfort my sadness.
I’ve been kind of bedridden with a sickness unknown to me(probably just a cold.. but a very peculiar one) for the past two days ever since I went through 3 hours of non-stop karaoke with about 15 people.. Dizziness, headaches, extreme loss of appetite, and i’m just all over uncomfortable. I don’t have a runny nose or sore throat and i’m not even coughing, but its the worse feeling ever.. and I was throwing up on the first night. If it’s anything I absolutely hate, it’s probably having to vomit. Not entirely the process of vomiting itself, but more so the fact that I have to bend(HOVER MY HEAD) over something that people everyday put their behinds on.. you know what I mean? The thought of it normally would make me want to gag. I may not be a germ-a-phobe, but i’m strictly sanitary if that makes any sense. Sorry to disturb your peace with my disgusting thoughts. I would completely understand if whoever is reading this would stop reading now. Anyways. After taking some meds last night, I felt thoroughly a lot better this morning and thought I wouldn’t need to take anymore medicine.. but that later proved to be false because the symptoms came back and then there I was, back at the toilet. As I walked out of the bathroom, I felt strangely back to normal.. Anyhow, my mom was watching television on the couch in the living room and called out as she caught sight of me: “Are you feeling better?” Ah, that’s right. The night before, I was knocking on her bedroom door at 2 am in the morning asking her to cure me. (Well, technically I complained to her about my symptoms and asked her to assign me the proper meds. I should be old enough to know by myself by now.. but well, Moms’ always know best!) In response to her question, I sat down next to her on the couch and joined her under the blankets she was covering herself with. I leaned against her arm and told her everything that had happened to me regarding my sickness, like a therapist’s patient.. She nodded and reconfirmed with me that I was just having a cold’s fever.. and for a while we sat in silence under the darkness of the room which was dimly lit with the soft Christmas colors shining from our small Christmas tree in the corner. In the silence I carelessly stared at the television with her. The movie she was watching was kinda old and had something to do with cowboys I vaguely remember.. “What does “fuck” mean?” She asks me in Vietnamese; that is, everything except for the vulgar word of course. I blinked and snapped out of my daze. Did I hear that correctly? No.. I definitely heard that correctly.. but nonetheless, I questioned her anyways. “Wait.. what?” I asked her back in our native language. “What does “fuck” mean?” ..That cowboy must have said it while I wasn’t paying attention. I started giggling slightly. “Well.. it’s kind of like..” Hold on.. how do I even explain it to her properly? “It’s.. well.. it’s..” I would start.. then get stuck in my thoughts and stop again.. I wanted to just tell her that it was a bad word.. but I didn’t even know how to say that in Viet no thanks to my horrible language barrier. Oh what more was there to think! “It’s just Du Ma in English.” I stated bluntly. Sigh, what more of a concise way could I have said it? (Du Ma = Fuck in Vietnamese in case that wasn’t obvious) She looked at me for a bit, smiled and turned her gaze back to the television without a word. She must’ve realized how funny her question sounded to me. Goodness, and I seriously thought that my mom knew what “fuck” meant for the past 5 years! I could’ve cussed around her a bit and she would’ve never known. Not that I ever did anyway.. ”..Okay.. I’m gonna go drink my medicine and go to bed now.. Night mom!” Sigh, my mom is truly the best :)
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