Today started early. Really early. The alarm went off before the sun even thought about rising, and I dragged myself to the Clinic.But even in this furry i didn't forget to apply my nails..haha girls power to manage fr their beauty..
As a Physiotherapist, my days are never really easy. There are patients waiting, pain to assess, exercises to guide, and so many stories to carry. Today was one of those busy routines where the clock barely gave me time to breathe. Back-to-back cases, notes to write, and that constant focus of making sure each person leaves feeling a little better than when they came in.
After the clinic, I had a home visit for a CP epilepsy child. These visits are different. In the clinic, it’s structured. At home, you see the real life... the challenges, the love of the family, and the child trying their best every single day. Working with a child with CP and epilepsy asks a lot from me. Patience, care, and hope. My expectation in moments like these is simple: that I can give even 1% more comfort, 1% more progress, 1% more independence to that child. That my hands and my guidance can make their tomorrow a little easier. It’s heavy work, but it’s also the reason I chose this profession.
By the time I got free and came back to my room, I was hell tired and hell hungry. My body was asking for rest, but my stomach was asking for comfort. And when I’m like this, there’s only one thing I expect from food: that it feels like a hug.
So I ordered my favorite Sezhuan chicken chowmein with extra spices. I’ve always loved how spicy, saucy noodles can instantly lift my mood. And it was hell good.The heat, the flavor, the way it filled me up after such a long day... that’s exactly what I needed. Food for me isn’t just fuel. As a foodie, I expect my meals to give me energy, joy, and a moment of peace.
To top it off, I had a chocolate ice cream shake. Sweet, cold, and creamy. After all the seriousness of the clinic and the emotional weight of the home visit, that shake was my little celebration. My expectation from life on days like this is small: that after giving so much to others, I can still give something to myself. A good meal, a sweet drink, and 10 minutes of quiet.
If you ask me what I expect from my days , it’s this balance. I expect to work hard as a Physiotherapist and show up for my patients, especially the vulnerable ones like that CP epilepsy child. I expect to keep my passion for nature photography alive.
Mostly, I expect to keep going. Even on tough days. Because tired or not, hungry or not, there’s always something small at the end that makes it worth it a good meal, a quiet room, and the thought that I helped someone today.