I dozed off finally at 9am and woke up less than 2 hours later, feeling a familiar sensation in my nose. Blood again, was pouring out of my right nostril, profusely. I said 'again', because obviously I am used to this occurrence.
Photo by Shhh Yu
All my life I've had a sensitive nose prone to nosebleeds, making me ill-equipped to face heat, or the constant sunlight. Yes, my nose is as fragile as my soul. This, perhaps, may be why I always hated summer, why I would rather stay in a room with air-conditioner, than to expose myself to the glare of the sun. I am like a vampire, a manlier version of Edward Cullen.
I looked at some droplets of blood that splattered about my bedsheets, and wondered in amusement what people would have thought if they were to enter my room and see the blood stains. I remembered the days in primary school and in secondary school, when there were more than a few instances that I would suddenly have a nosebleed. I remember two incidents at the secondary school most clearly, once, I rushed into the room of the Red Cross Society for help. and it was probably with them that I first learnt that to stop a nosebleed, one should tilt the head FORWARD, and not backward, while pinching the fleshy part of the nose. Usage of bags of ice is actually unnecessary.
The second time, I rushed into the teachers' office for help, it was another sudden occurrence and I didn't have time to run to the Red Cross Society's. Caused quite a scene, numerous teachers surrounding me, helping to stem the flow. There were some teachers who had acquired a monstrous reputation in school for being such stern disciplinarians, so when they helped to stop my nosebleed, I felt as if I was looking at them from a different light, they became my saviours.
The treatment wasn't that complicated, I started drinking more fruit juices in the morning, and somehow that minimized the nosebleed. Not entirely, of course, I still remember during the shoot of WOMAN ON FIRE LOOKS FOR WATER, when it was almost everyday, that my nose would bleed a little. It was a common sight. Morbid at first, but everyone got used to it in following days.
Attila the Hun died of nosebleed, got suffocated by the blood during his sleep. It wasn't the coolest way to die. While I was suffering from my nosebleed this morning, of course I didn't really think of Attila the Hun at all, it was more like "Jeez, been a while since I've bled that much. When is it going to stop?"
Nosebleed stopped a while later. Yet there was the subsequent diarrhoea (suffered that last month as well). Lots of visits to the toilet, leaving me weakened, I trudged to the lab to meet my professor, he called me yesterday telling me there were some documents I had to sign, he wasn't there. I stayed in the lab for a short while, brainstorming via Gmail chat some new film story ideas with Ming Jin, then realized I was getting a bit weary. Better to just call it a day and go home.
And went home I did. Yet how odd it was, to find myself reminiscing about my secondary school days just because of my morning nosebleed. People remember the excitement of first love, the warmth of friends, the amusing adventures of dealing with teachers, the triumph of nice academic grades, or the crushing disappointment of mediocre grades and rejected love, yet me, on this day I remember mostly about my nosebleeds.