Ervin’s

“You go to a contractor, of course he’ll ask you to tear down that wall in your  house! You go to a surgeon, OF COURSE he’ll ask you to go for surgery!!”

“What if you never woke up from the general anesthesia? What if the surgeon accidentally cuts your vocal chord??”

I pictured Dr Tan choking Dr Chua to death with his specialist-issued, hi-tech tongue depressor if he heard this.

Now I’m neither cynical enough to think that surgeons like Dr Tan will want to cut up my
throat for a quick buck nor paranoid enough to worry that he will sneeze during the op
and unwittingly sever my vocal chord.

At the same time, you can’t deny that surgeons have vested interest (and understandably so) in these situations, especially when it comes to such a common procedure which is performed thousands of times each year in Singapore.

In the end, what made me decide to call it off is a recently renewed resolution to get in
shape. If eating healthy (I feel strangely closer to cows now), regular exercise (running at
night during the seventh month) and more sleep (my favourite new ‘regime’) are not enough to keep the tonsils from throwing week long bacteria orgies, we’ll review the situation again.

So for now my tonsils are happy, having escaped certain death. We’re not quite
best friends yet, but I’m willing to work on it if they behave.

The cumbersomeness of the bat suit is cruelly exposed off-camera as Heath Ledger takes out the pain of daily 3-hour makeup sessions on a hapless Christian Bale.  

Batman Begins (I’m still not sure about the title) was important. Aside from erasing the painful memories of Batman Forever and Batman and Robin (bat suits had nipples then), Chris Nolan’s achievement was to validate the genre by attracting the kind of casting usually reserved for A-list director-driven, Ocean 11’s style ensembles or low-key, Sundance winning and Oscar-baiting independent films.

Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine, Gary Oldman, Aaron Eckhart, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Cillian Murphy…in a movie about a guy who dresses up as a bat. Here’s one for the fanboys.

Then of course we’re about to have Robert Downey Jr as Tony Stark aka Iron Man. Tagging along are Terrence Howard, Gwyneth Paltrow and Jeff Bridges – not exactly struggling soap stars.

Tired of pumping iron for his first superhero role, Bobby Downey decides to cook some instead. 

The same summer sees Edward Norton take on Bruce Banner – who is a good bet to turn into a green CGI monster some time during the movie – in The Incredible Hulk. Trying to curb his own anger problems is Tim Roth, who plays bad guy monster the Abomination.

All that’s left is for Sean Penn to pull on some coloured tights. Geeks really would rule the world then.

1. A couple of dog-walking maids who seemed somewhat surprised when I passed them again on my second lap. I’m circling the estate, ladies. Relax.
2. Lots of households watching EPL. I hear it’s popular.
3. A couple who looked way too young to be alone in a dark playground. For a second I was tempted to stop and asked to see their IDs. Would have been fun.
4. Bats. They looked fake though.

After 2 rounds, I ventured onto the streets. There’s traffic now. I told myself the stakes have risen – I could be run over, or worse still, be over taken by real runners, or even worse still, they could be girls.

Thankfully, none of the above came to pass. I did stop at a getai to catch my breath. Ended up staying for 15 minutes. Got to check out a few of those gigs this month.

By now it’s 10.30 pm. I huffed and puffed my way home. Must have covered at least 5 km. A decent start for someone hopelessly out of shape, I reckon.

I fight the ridiculous thought of driving down to McDonald’s drive-through for a bite before settling for a bowl of oatmeal. Boy, am I a changed man.

So yesterday I popped by SGH to see a specialist. I’m hoping the tonsils take this as a signal that I’m willing to consider lethal action. Enough is enough.  

If there ever was a waiting game SGH would surely get a podium finish, minimum.

My appointment was 10.30am. I arrived at 11 – it was pouring. Plus you would sooner find a bacteria hiding inside my tonsillar tissue than a parking lot at SGH.

Got my queue number at 11.45 am.

At 2pm, my number flashed on the wall. After two hours fifteen minutes of waiting, it felt like my life ambitions were achieved.

Dr Tan spent 10 minutes with me, employing a visibly more hi-tech tongue depressor than the naked ice cream sticks you get at the usual clinics. I was then set up for a ‘scope’.

Two more hours of waiting.

The ‘Scope’ (for nasopharyngoscope, as I found out) is ready to take its victim. This intrusive little bugger is, according to medilexicon.com, “a telescopic instrument, electrically lighted, for examination of the nasal passages and the nasopharynx.”

Basically, it’s the War of the Worlds Martian probe having a workout inside my nose and throat.

Then comes the diagnosis – I have chronic tonsillitis. No surprise there really. I have not been friendly with my tonsils for years, ever since they started tearing up throat every so often.

Dr Tan recommended – and I really hope the tonsils heard this loud and clear – tonsillectomy. Below is the actual conversation I had with the doc:

Dr Tan: Antibiotics kill germs. But it’s poison to you. It’s POISON.

Ervin: Are there any downsides to removing my tonsils?

Dr Tan: Downside? You mean…disadvantage?

Ervin: Yes…

Dr Tan: Tonsils produce antibodies. It’s supposed to be your friend. But now, it’s your enemy. Your ENEMY.

Must. Destroy. Enemy.

And so my operation date was set two weeks from now. All that remains is for me to do the pre-admission blood test, and I’m all ready to be laid out on the butcher table. It’s a little unnerving I must say. A week ago it was just another sore throat.  Now I’m about to take my first general anesthetic in 20 years.

I look forward to seeing how my tonsils plan to talk me out of this.

At least chicken is ok. I need my chicken rice. Will have to leave the skin behind though, which is almost sacrilegious. I’m Hainanese, for crying out loud.