Fears

Every time I get a bad runny nose, it ends up spreading to everyone in the house. My biggest fear is using the neti pot. The idea of pouring lukewarm water through one nostril and having it come out through the other nostril—or worse, through both the nostrils and the mouth—really scares me. But to overcome this fear, I just force myself to do it, especially when I need a good night’s sleep. If I don’t, I’ll stay up all night coughing non-stop. I end up feeling like an owl, awake in the dark.

There was another time when I used to enjoy Facebook a lot. I loved seeing where people went, what they ate, and what they were up to. But now, that interest has faded. I find Facebook boring. The connection to it feels more like a burden—it’s full of stalking behavior and too many advertisements. Everyone seems to be promoting themselves or someone else just to increase their follower count. I don’t see what’s so great about Facebook anymore.

The third incident, This morning, my brother, mom, and I were at the eye hospital to get a diagnosis for my father’s eye condition before a planned operation. Just as we were there, the hospital staff told us they couldn’t access his medical records and would have to redo the diagnosis from scratch.

While all this was happening, I received a call from the caregiver. In the background, I could hear him talking to a nurse. He said my father was being discharged. Then he kept calling repeatedly, insisting that the discharge had already happened. We all rushed back to the hospital, only to find out that the discharge was actually scheduled for after three in the evening.

My brother turned to me and scolded, “What did you tell the caregiver?” I asked the caregiver directly why he said the discharge had already happened and made us rush there for nothing. That’s when I realized I could no longer trust him. His usual smooth-talking couldn’t cover up what had happened.

I decided to check things for myself. I spoke to the ward nurse, who said the doctor hadn’t signed off on the discharge yet. I spoke to another nurse—she gave a different answer. Finally, I went to the admin counter and got the correct update. The discharge wasn’t finalized at all.

The caregiver had tried to talk his way through the situation, thinking no one would notice or question him. Just minutes ago, he passed by me on the way out. I explained everything to the family members—why I questioned the caregiver, why I didn’t trust his version of the story. My brother then told me to call him back. I did. He was already in the lift, but I asked him to return.

Earlier, the family had already urged him to have his lunch early, and he mentioned that food was prepared at home and he could eat there. Still, the situation had gone too far to be ignored.

The whole point of this experience is this:
Don’t stay silent when someone else’s actions make you look bad. Speak up. Explain your side clearly. Don’t cover for anyone just because they’re good at winning favor. Address the issue face to face so everyone knows what really happened. Misunderstandings can only be cleared when all parties are honest and transparent.

In this case, I overcame the fear of confrontation. Instead of letting things slide, I chose to speak up and ask the hard questions—even if it meant uncomfortable conversations. That’s how I protected both my father’s care and my own integrity.