To begin

In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts

Thursday, 7 February 2013

the Wise tooth of Misery

Dear Reader,

I'm not usually the sort of person who complains, especially about aches and pains (sorry, unintentional rhyme there). But I had to tell someone, so I thought why not you, dear reader.  

So it started off about 3 days ago. As the afternoon became evening, I began notice the inside of my right cheek kept getting caught between my teeth. This quickly went from irritating to painful and because I was deep within my writing zone, I couldn't be bothered to check it out in a mirror, let alone go downstairs and take a painkiller. I know, I know, my mistake. But to remedy the situation temporarily, I placed a small-but-handy piece of candied pineapple between my gum and my cheek. (Aside: my love of candied pineapples being the only thing I have in common with Professor Slughorn).



For a time it was perfect; my cheek was safe from my throbbing gums and every few minutes a got a burst of pineapply-sweetness in my mouth. (At this point you may point out dear reader that I could have easily used chewing gum, but to quote Johnny Depp's Willy Wonka "chewing gum is really gross, chewing gum I hate the most." This sums up quite well my feeling on that subject)

The pineapple pieces lasted me until dinner, by which time the inside of my mouth was completely coated in sweet stuff, to the point that it numbed all other pain. So I happily filled my bowl with rice and green-chickpeas and sat down to eat. The way my mum cooks it, usually this is one my favourite rice dishes, and one of the few foods I wouldn't mind a second helping of. But not this day.

I'd barely eaten five spoonfuls when I gave up. My entire lower jaw was tight, the right side of my face in agony, my right ear was ringing, I could hardly open my mouth wide enough to let a spoon, not to mention that the pointy, chickpeas were poking into my swollen gums. I felt like I was chewing on needles or raw pasta. Of course, my mum picked up on my sudden lack of appetite and asked me what was wrong.

I'm not ashamed to admit that at this moment I gushed, told her everything, just the way I did when I was five and had badly scrapped my knee. Its part of a mother's job description after all: to know exactly how to soothe her hurt child, no matter how old they get. I'm sure she would have sat me in her lap if we were not sitting at the dinner table and I wasn't too big for her. All that aside, she told me it was probably a wisdom tooth that was at the root of my pain.      

Now, when it comes to teeth, I've always been a bit of a late bloomer. For example, while all my friend's baby teeth fell out when they were 5, 6 or 7 years old, mine didn't begin to fall out until I was 10. And the last of my baby teeth had to be yanked out of my mouth by my dentist when I was 16. So, it only made sense I was quite surprised by this revelation. Even more surprised by it, in fact, than the day I woke up to find that Mount Everest had taken up residence on my chin. (Now that was one tenant I was more than happy to get rid off.) I'd always thought I'd get my wisdom teeth when I was in my 30's.

But my mum told me that the same thing happened to her when she was 23, slightly more than a year before I was born. The conversation then diverted on to topics that included how much my brothers and I had cried as teething babies, the tooth-fairy and did my early wisdom teeth mean that I had wisdom and my older brother's lack there of. The only thing of help that came out of it was the advice that I go and see my dentist about it.

And so, like a dutiful citizen that has complete faith in the NHS, I called my local dentist the very next morning and they gave me an appointment for the day after. It felt strange sitting there in the same, unchanged waiting room after so many years. The only real difference, I'm sad to say, was that the little aquarium with the sea horses was gone. (Aside: what's with dentist having aquarium in their waiting rooms? Is it some unwritten code?) I was surrounded by children and toddlers, with their hassled mama's and pushchairs. In an oddly sentimental moment, I could not helping thinking/hoping that that would be me one day.

Anyways, my dentist was really rather nice and showed me an X-ray of my teeth. It turns out that I have one wisdom tooth coming out on either side of my lower jaw. The pain is being caused by an ulcerated infection on my right gum and cheek, which probably would have been worse had I not been brushing properly. So, like most any other dentist, she told me to start brushing twice a day and then prescribed me with an antibiotic that had my name in it: metroNIDAzole, lol.


And what was the point of all this? I hear you ask. Well, I believe that all stories have a moral, if you look hard enough. But for this one, I'm not exactly sure what it might be. Maybe it should be that 'wisdom comes at a price'. Or maybe 'gaining wisdom is not always painless, but hopefully it is worth it'. Though I keep fingers-crossed as swallow another set of antibiotics and painkillers. ;-)  

Nida


Wednesday, 13 July 2011

a Goal celebration!

Dear Reader,

The day before yesterday was my graduation/convocation ceremony. It was overwhelming and inspiring.  

The day began quite early, 6am in fact, since we had to get to the Hall by 8:30am and it was about an hours drive from my house. But being Pakistani, we had to be late, and so we got there at just after 9am. As soon as I arrived however, I had no chance to say hello to my friends but was hurried off to the robing room to don my (incredibly expensive) academic dress. Part of me felt like a puffed up black pillow, while the other half felt like a Hogwarts-runway. Well, that was until I put on my mortarboard cap and looked in the mirror. It was then that it truly hit me that my undergraduate degree was actually over. I turned to my mother and saw that she had tears in her eyes. She was crying, silent tears of joy and pride. I just want to take this moment to say: I love you Mum.  

The Ceremony itself was quite interesting. Our principal spoke for about 15 mins, covering a range of topics from the increased tuition fees and the current state of the NHS, to the St. George's pride and wishing the graduates/alumni best of luck in the future. One of the things he said really stuck with me. He told us to remember the 4P's in the rest of our lives: to be Professional and Patient, to act without Prejudice, and always remember to Persevere. 

Then the awards and degrees presentation began. Me and my university friends clapped and whooped extra loud whenever one of us went up on stage. I think the loudest whoop was for the very sociable and lovable Arab friend of mine, whom I shall not name here. I'm told that there was a lot of whooping and clapping for me too but all I remember is that after hearing my name being called, I stepped on the stage in utter silence, my entire concentration focused on walking straight ahead without tripping up. Sound only returned to me when I was off the stage and heading back to me seat, but by then the clapping was for the next person in line. Having never been in this sort of a situation before, I suppose that was what stage-fright felt.  

The three hours after the ceremony ended, were spent in a hectic struggle to find my friends and take a million photographs with them. There are pictures of us in the hall, in the waiting area, with our families, with each other's families, in the queues, and of us friends flinging our hats, even one of my friend's mother looking quite lost. Thanks to Allah's mercy, the weather was bright and sunny and absolutely wonderful, to fit our moods. And so there are a myriad of pictures of us in the sun, on the stairs, by the ponds, in the ponds ... you get the picture.  

And in the end, as I walked through the car park doors, with my aching high-heeled-feet, it was not a sense of loss or ending that filled me, nor was it excitement, anticipation or anxiety. It was contentment and satisfaction at a job well done. You see, for so long my life had been geared towards this one goal: graduation. Since about half-way through secondary school everything I did, academically and extracurricularly, were for the purpose of getting into a good university, which Alhumdulillah I did. Once at university, everything was done into order to get great grades. These past years have been an emotional roller-coaster, requiring a 110% effort to just keep on top of things. And Alhumdulillah, thank God, I had a brilliant network of friends and family for support, who picked me up whenever I fell down, who kept on reminding me to not give up hope, that I could do it, that my goal was achievable. 


And now I have the grades, Alhumdulillah. For me, this ceremony was a celebration of achieving the goal that my life had been centred on for too many years to count. And not just my goal, but the goals of all the BSc, MBBS, MSc and PhD students at my university. It was a celebration of our efforts, hard work and perseverance, of everything we learnt (academically and personally) and of the life-long friendships we formed.         

I've heard some say that they felt a certain anguish, or a sense of confusion or doubt as to where they should head to next. But luckily that has not been the case with me. Being the obsessively organised person that I am, I always have a plan in place, several plans in fact, in case one should fail. I know that life has it's unexpected turns and twists, but I've found a way to adapt and mould my plans to whatever Allah (swt) wishes to throw in my path. And now I wait to begin to walk on my next plan, with my next goal ahead and insight. 

Wishing you, dear Reader, all the best with your own goals, 

Nida

P.S. - Sorry if the title of this post misled you as it has nothing to do with football :-P  

Sunday, 22 May 2011

I'm FREE and I'm BACK!!!!!!

Dear Reader,

I'm sorry. I know I promised to write a blog on the 20th of May, the day after my last exam, but what happened was that I was too busy enjoying my new-found-freedom to remember to turn on my laptop. I slept a lot, Allhumdulillah. I spent the entirety of Friday with my university friends and then Saturday was devoted to spending time with my family and helping my not-so-little-brother-any-more with his GCSE English revision.     

Image courtesy of Toronto Public Library
So now that I'm back and free of exams, being the compulsive list-maker that I am, I've made a list of things I want to do:
  1. Blog regularly again (1 per week at least)
  2. Prepare for the month of Ramadaan - I can't wait to start fasting again. 
  3. Re-read the Noble Qur'an with Tafsir 
  4. Spend at least a week with my university friends before results come out (plans for this are under process and the dates have been set).
  5. Give my final "Sisters' Circle" talk at uni before the younger years break off for summer.  
  6. Finish my applications for Masters. 
  7. Write at least another 40,000 words of my novel Life in Conversations. 
  8. Begin doing research for my new top-secret-novel-idea.  
  9. Go to the Lake District, Cumbria with my family.
  10. Read at least 30 more novels for the charity Reading Challenge. 
  11. Watch the last Harry Potter movie with my Sixth Form friends.  
  12. Cook at least once a week and garden a lot more.
  13. Attend my convocation ceremony. 
  14. Learn to drive and pass my driving test.
  15. Get a job? maybe, if I have time. 
I think that these points are an achievable target for the next four months, InshAllah. I'll keep you updated as I check them off my list. I've also been writing a lot of poetry lately, but that's a post for another time, InshAllah. 

My brother Codename: The Monkey, suggested that I start asking you, my dear reader, a question once a week. Question of the Week: what will you do in your summer holidays? (if you are still in education. If not then what will you like to do in your next vacation?) Leave your answers in the comment section below. 

So that's all for now. I'll write to you next week InshAllah. Until then, take care.
Nida