Silent crash

I was silent for weeks but when my books and documents from Canada finally arrived the second week of November 2008, I was inspired to write my thesis again.

Over the few weeks, I continue to appreciate my everyday victory over pain. I have grown used to the discomfort and as a result, I found more time reading, thinking and writing. I was once more attuned to the energies of my mind and data analyses have become handy again. For my trigeminal neuralgia, I have let go and let God as I got immersed once more with the promise of academy. Then, my hard drive crashed.

I committed a mortal error that is detrimental to the mental state of a thesis writing student like me. I forgot to make a back-up copy of my work; I forgot to save my files. I lost my almost two months of laborious analysis and drafts.

Now I realized that during those long hours of analysis and writing, my hard disc for three years was probably in pain, too – for too much stress, for too much work. However, my hard disc did not show any symptom of illness. Without any signal, it just died. It crashed silently without any fanfare.

This is relatively different with human body, with my human body. For more than a year now, I have been an active suffering body, showing signs of infection but no clear remedy in sight. Unlike my hard disc, I am still given a chance to renew my bodily energies despite the pain. I am not just a human-made technical gadget. I am a being whose best gadget is my humanity.

My technicality rests in the very nature of how I face the crises that silent crashes bring into my everyday life. This is the character that teaches me more about life, and the joy of living.