After a quick session at the pulmonologist, I didn't feel like heading back to be all cooped up in the office. So I wandered down the road to Tanglin Mall to run some errands. I picked up some basic tees and pants from British India, stocked up on some stuff at Brown Rice Paradise.
I was all ready for some food when I saw Wallaroo hats hanging off the racks. Since I wouldn't be diving much from now on and would have to stick my ass to the boat or the beach, a hat would be a very good accessory for island holidays. So I bought 2. These must be my saddest purchases ever. It meant I was no longer in denial.
Then I wandered into Hediard for lunch. The tart glass of orange juice lifted the spirits. It was a bright sunny day. I've had wonderful vacations spent diving in the islands of Southeast Asia, Australia, Japan, Maldives, Seychelles and Montego Bay. It's been 15 years of constant peeking into the mysterious and rich marine life in the seas and oceans.
I've been good all of 2009 and obeyed the doctor's advice. It's not that sad that I can't really dive anymore. I kinda still can, but only leisurely and at a most uninteresting depth. These aren't the dives I want to do. :( Knowing how obstinate and insistent I am about the sort of dives I want to do, and the risks I would take, the pulmonologist has refused me the medical clearance and peace of mind I've demanded.
I've always held out hope that it's a hiatus and I can get back to doing what I love. But my lungs can't withstand what I do. So I guess, the compromise is to hold on to, 15 good years of memories and stories, and perhaps in another 2 years or so, I might be able to make just a few more.