Death Stories #1

3 months ago I decided to touch a dead body for the first time. It’s 4am. I’ve worked for 8 hours. 4 more hours to go. The patient died. His 10 year old son is crying. My body aches. My head is spinning. I’m crying. I enter the room at the end of the corridor. It’s an isolation room. Dark and lonely, separate from the rest of the floor. The dead body is swollen, twice or maybe three times the normal body. The skin is yellow. I gown up, wear mask and gloves. I go in watch the dead body. Very yellow. All kinds of tubes hanging from every part. I look at the face. Blue around the eyes. Eyes are closed. He’s smiling. The scariest smile I’d ever seen. I raise my hand. Rip of the first tape off the arm. I pull the first tube. Blood gushes out. It’s black. I press the gauze. It takes for ever to stop. I look at the face. It’s still smiling. I have goose bumps all over me. Bleeding stops. I move to the neck. Rip off another tape. Pull out the tube. The tube is long. Takes forever to come out. More blood, still black. I’m shivering. I take another piece of gauze. I’m going to put it on the neck. His eyes pops open. A pair of yellow eyes staring straight at me. I yell. Run out of the room. Nurses and doctors are laughing at me. I’m shaking. I look at them expressionless. Walk to the exit door. They announce Blue Code in room 2. Someone else is dying. I don’t stop. I can’t take it. I leave the ICU into the darker corridors. The man is standing there, looking at me, with yellow eyes.

So Far No Matter How Close

The knowledge we have of ourselves is way far from the picture others have of us. We know it but still there are facts about us that we hope others believe in. Our hope is all in vain. No matter how close you are to someone, no matter how long you know each other, egocentrism plays its part perfectly. It hurts…a lot.

Crazy Little Thing Called …

Guys don’t get offended. This entry is just a very personal opinion.

Guys (Boys/ gentlemen) can be divided into two groups: The group that name the little guy in their pants, and the group that don’t. The latter is discussable since I’m not sure if they don’t have a name for it at all or they just refrain from talking about it in presence of a lady. Which ever is the case , as long as I don’t know about the “name”, they belong to the second group.

Do you guys think it’s funny? Do you think it’s sexy? Do you think it’s attractive? If your answer is yes to any of them then you’re WRONG. It’s disgusting, repelling, unrespectful to the woman you’re talking to and just wrong.

When you say “Jamshid doesn’t feel fine today”, Not only it doesn’t make me laugh, but it creeps me out. I think of this Jamshid Agha who is very ugly and dirty stuck in your under pants with some hair here and there on his head. Even if nobody comes to my mind, I really don’t want to think about your "stuff" when I’m talking to you. If I wanted to I would have taken off your clothes (and I know 90% of you wouldn’t object) and spent time with you naked.

I might sound superficial here but, according to my observations, if you are a real gentleman, you wouldn’t do it. Honestly, none of the guys whom I trust and are very good friends of mine do such a thing. Oh, and by the way, “big” guys don’t do it either. So stop it. Please. It’s like me hanging out with you and keep burping. It’s really not cute.

And why the hell girls never do this anyway?

Niloogle

You know this parental-control option you can get on your internet so you can keep track of or limit your child’s web browsing? I really need to get one, not for the child I don’t have, but for my mom.

My mom somehow manages to find out any comment written by me or any picture of me on the web. Even once I left an anonymous comment on a website, and she came to me the next day and asked me about it. She might have this specially designed search engine only to track me down.

So mom, I just wanted to say hi and sorry for anything that I write in this weblog which might not be suitable for the younger audience. I’ll do my best to be a lady though. Luv ya.

I love you T.S.Sh

“I’m blessed”. The sentence doesn’t really mean much since I don’t believe in God, but I couldn’t find a better word than “bless”. I have to start with the cliché. I have the best parents on planet earth and a brother I wouldn’t exchange for the world, and I have my health, yad yada.

But I’m blessed for other things too. Have you ever wanted to have something but you knew for a fact that you couldn’t have it… so you just fantasized of having it? Well, I always loved to have a sister. But since it was impossible, I believed that it’s just one of those things I can’t have. When my brother got married, though, everything changed. I have the coolest sister ever. She is everything I’ve ever wanted for a sister and even cooler.

The moral of the story? Don’t give up on your greatest wishes… if you want a Ferrari, who knows, maybe your sister would get married to this rich guy with a Ferrari, and the rich guy dies and your sister inherits the Ferrari, and since the Ferrari brings back the memories of her late husband, she would hand over the keys to you. Or maybe the easier way would be to win a lottery. Whatever suits you. Just be optimistic.

Vital Unimportant Things

This is my second attempt to create a weblog. The first one was too noir. For this one I decided to write about small unimportant issues. But as I was thinking about unimportant things in my life I made a great discovery. The small ridiculous things can, at some point, become vital – I’m serious … even a matter of life or death – ok, I’m pushing it just a little bit.

It all started with one of our usual discussions with my group of friends about farting in bed. After hours of hot debate about “people being turned off in bed because the partner had farted in sleep”, versus “if we can’t even fart in bed, where can we fart then”, I decided to post it as my first weblog entry. I thought it’s unimportant enough, and might be useful for some people who are planning to go to bed with someone soon.

But all of a sudden I remembered working in the hospital. Farting in the hospital is not a matter of joke or getting erections for your partner . Farting in hospital means “you’ve made it”. Farting after surgery means you might be able to eat soon after oh-so-long. Farting after surgery means smile on patient’s, nurses’, and doctors’ faces. When a patient after sugary starts farting, his/her roommates would look at him/her in the eyes and nod with tear in their eyes and a kind smile, sending a message of “good job, you’ve done it, wish us luck too”. Farting after surgery is a goal, an achievement, a victory.

So these little things we take for granted, like farting, can be someone’s plan of action for the whole day. So wish all the sick people good fart and thank god (or whoever) for farting.