The deadly phone call, saying mum's at A&E.

For that instant, my world almost collapsed. Neither could I think straight, nor organize my mind, as I fumbled through my belongings and grabbed the necessities before rushing out. Right, it's not the time for any stupid meeting or tuition, they all don't matter anymore. I don't give a damn. I don't recall keying whatever it is into my handphone. I can't tell how hard it was raining while I scurried through the park. Pit-te-pat, and my heart pounding hard.

Hours waiting, CT scan, dad came, my relatives came... Mom had fallen and hit the back of her head, and all we could hope for was there wasn't any internal bleeding or brain injury. I wanted to comfort my mom, yet holding back my fear was perhaps the best comfort I could give to her. It felt like eternity, that I want to cry so much.

Eventually all are well, and I couldn't be less thankful. Mommy is blessed, and will continue to be so. Which brings me to ponder that I have an exceptional close affinity with hospitals this dec holiday. Is it here to remind me to take good care of my precious ones before it becomes too late? For nothing triumphs over the importance of health, not studies, or money.

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