>> Wednesday, February 23, 2005

My GP is an old mamak man, perhaps in his 60s.

No, he's not the famous Dr. Rahman.

He does not need an ultrasound machine nor any other device. All he does is feels my stomach, cups it with his bare hands, starts his counting, and measures whatever there is in the stomach.

"OK, *whatever-there-is-in-the-stomach* is developing as according to its date calculation."

He then pushes every side of my stomach with extra force to see if there is any pain, and explaining the body parts. This is what, what, what, and this is where *whatever-there-is-in-the-stomach* lies.

I tried not to arch my eyebrows or scream to his face. In accordance with the latest Government's campaign for berbudi bahasa, I hinted nicely to him.

"Well, the pain is not such a big problem eh?"
"No. It's caused by pelvic inflammation." Smile.
"So, there's no need for ultrasound scanning?" Smile back.
"No." As sure as he is.

Hmm.. believe I should have more faith in him. An old doctor with old medical methods seems to be wiser.

Eventhough he looks kinda fragile little thing in my eyes.

I went to KL Sentral afterwards for lunch. Yes, us rich people do not eat at commonfolks' foodcourt at the riverside. As I passed the camera shop, there's this urge to peek through the glass.

:heartbeat goes faster:

AAAA, there he is! Looking as handsome as ever :scream: :scream:

After that one glance, I told myself DO NOT PEEK AGAIN. NO, NO, DON'T! What if he caught you peeking? Shame on you, woman!

Luckily he didn't notice. Fuh....

Oh, I've sinned :hands on forehead:

Not that I'm not going to do it again next time.


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