When I was born for 25 days to 3 months old, my mother became very sick, she was laying in bed and could not have breast milk for me. My grandmother had to carry me and asked the women in the village to feed me. There were two women that had a baby the same age as me. So, they took turn to feed me. There were not an instance milk for the baby, even it was, my mother would not afford to buy it. My mother told me that I would not accept any breast milk from any women except the only two women.
Then I was alive and until I was about 3 years old, I had pneumonia, I was coughing so much, I coughed almost all night long, hard to sleep. My mother gave me to try many different medicines from the local villagers recommendation even the brown rice pickle…. my sickness last for 3 months, I became very skinny, but the most important was I was alive.
Not the end yet, when I was 6 years old, I had dengue fever, during that time, it was common that children die from dengue fever. If the case pass to day 7, it would be less chance to survive. My case was on day 4, I still remember that, when I had dengue fever the symptom was “I always want to sleep, I did not have energy, I just wanted to sleep, and my temperature was high to over 39C and I felt hurt all over my body. I did not want to play, I just wanted to sleep.”
My mother would noticed that I was not well, and took me to the local doctor in the village (a type of doctor who used to cure people during the Khmer Rouge, not really a certificate type of doctor) I had to stay at the doctor’s house with many other patients. They put so many IV drips, and injections on me. I think it was like 3 times per day. I had to stay there for like 10 days. Luckily, my mother saved gold and so she sold it to cured me and so I survived again.
In the next following year, when I was 7 years old during the rainy season, I had dengue fever again, my mother became worried, and so she had to send me to the local doctor again. I repeat all over again, by just laying in bed, got so many IV drips and injections, my leg has the scar from these injections until today.
While I was sick, I felt some how happy, because I got all an intention from my parents, I could have as much as oranges I want. I remember, because I had so much of antibiotic, injections and those IV drip, even I pee I could smells those antibiotics. After over 10 days, I become better, and so I could come back home. I had missed so many classes, but I survived again.
After I have fought with the diseases to survive, I think, I would say I was a tough child. I was a life warrior, and I would not give up easily, I was born to live, and to live a life meaningfully. I believe that life has so much to offer, and even I came across so many hardships to win to live, I still think that “life is beautiful and meaningful gift”. I won’t die any regret from not doing things I love. I love to dreams and make those dreams come true, and I am living my life everyday.
