I was asked to remove everything by the lady in white uniform. Everything? I asked. She seemed hurried, yet polite. There were people anxiously waiting for me. It is the hospital so I had to play by their rules. When they said 'hurry', all they meant was 'be as quick as you can or we are going to jab you with all we have'.
I had no idea this was going to happen. They had me changed into a hospital gown and wheeled me into a room full of people. These people were used to cutting people open that they giggled and cracked jokes while preparing the utensils.
And I was half-naked, trembling in cold while waiting for the thermal blanket to heat me up.
I believed in faith. I also believed that everything does not happen without a reason. Cliched, but how else could I account for two consecutive loss in a year and how it happened, unexplained.
Chromosomal abnormalities, stress, excessive caffeine intake, and finally, God's work - I was told.
Some people may find it tough to break out of depression, but for me, it is as equally tough as to get in. Something hit you and ultimately left you shocked, nauseous, dizzy, disappointed, angry, and overwhelmed. It is an arduous task and takes a long way to actually knock you out of your senses.
I learn that when people are depressed, you do not hurl judgements. It is either you help, or you send them flowers. The least you can do is shutting your pie hole. Not a word.
When this happened I realised that there are a lot of people who needed help, but instead of shouting for one, they kept quiet. It is simply a gesture of weakness to ask for help in today's society. We are always reminded the need to 'toughen up' ourselves that when people are in trouble, we blame them for being weak.
Afterall, being weak is an offence.
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