I can already walk. I can already balance myself. But of course, not without my tripod cane.
I started to practice writing
again. Nothing much changed actually. Just my eagerness to write again.
I was advised to have cosmetic surgery for the second time.
Something could still be done with the audibility of my voice. Arrangement of my facial appearance will just be a bonus.
But, as I have said and as I still
maintained, I’d rather regain my balance first than have my looks reconstructed.
I also still have to learn eating properly. Not a very bad idea. Just a difficult one. I love to eat. In fact, my mother often jokes that I would eat anything as long as there is food on the table. But a couple of weeks ago, I learned to abstain from preservatives especially sodium benzoate, affecting most of my favorites (think ice cream and cakes). Only the dessert leche flan is spared by the diet police.
At least, I can still make something beautiful. I can’t wait to play a piece.
Favorite words of encouragement to date:
“We will pursue what can still be pursued,” said Kuya Frederick, my physiotherapist.
“Do not wait for me to be angry with you,” said Tito Toto, a family friend.