I still hoped there would be lollipops.

    Haven't been to any for years. Literally, years. I don' even remember my last time. And now I had to go. It's one of those things that you wouldn't go to unless you absolutely had to. And I had to. And I had to go to a place I had never been, a place I don't want to be, and I was alone. I sat timidly waiting. Just waiting. The waiting wasn't so bad. It was the moment the taste of what was happening that I started to close my eyes. I caught myself reciting chants t calm my shivering body. My fingers were numb. She asked if I was ok, I told her I was terrified. There were tears forming in corners of my eyes, and I felt soon they would start trickling out. Thank God they didn't.

    When she told me all wasn't well, and showed me photos to prove it, my heart sank. I'd have to go there again, and again. It would be my new "hangout". Except I hated it. I hated the sights, the smells, and even though the people were extra gentle (given my condition), I still wasn't comforted by it. I felt frail, and weak. But I held on, and I survived Round 1. And I'll survive Round 2, and no matter how many more, I'll face it. With tears in my eyes, with scrunched forehead, with numb fingers, I'll face it. And I'll regain myself each time.