fish-bone

I remember bingkee having a post about Westerners not liking to eat their fish as a whole (head and all) compared to Asians. Now I can see why.

My mom had a fish-bone stuck down her throat for the entire day yesterday. I am sure we are all now sympathising with my mom who's got this wee bit of calcium protruding and spiking her each time she takes a swallow, but this post is about me getting traumatised along the way.

So mom was walking up and down the house, obviously uneasy. At times she would scream for me to look into her mouth to see if I could see anything. She insisted it was a bone and had felt it by jutting her finger and prodding her inner cheeks about (nice!).

And other than the fact that she wasn't the nicest view in the house that day, she was absolutely determined for me to grab a pair of tweezers to extract that bone. Now, if I had a passion for such things, her daughter would've became a dentist. Not a scientist.

I am filial. It is my obligation. And I did well in reminding myself that throughout the whole ordeal. Nonetheless, what came next wasn't to my liking at all. NOT-ONE-BIT.

I was armed with a small torch, one half of a pair of chopsticks and a tweezer. Mum tilted her head back on the seat of a chair and since I had difficulty juggling all three objects whilst maintaining some form of dexterity, I made my mom shove that one chopstick down her own throat to keep her tongue in place *snickers*. Yes, okay I am evil - but that was the only best part of it for me throughout the whole ordeal. I'd like to think I'm at least entitled to that.

For all that effort,

1. I was at the verge of gagging from all her saliva (we just finished lunch)
   
2. I got squeamish when I accidentally touched my moms saliva because the tweezers were too short
3. AND I didn't even catch a glimpse of the illusive fish-bone (so unfair!)
   

Mom ended up hoikking (that disgusting sound you make when you're trying to spit?) the whole day trying to conjure bodily fluids somehow to push the bone out from whatever organ she had it in, and I ended up nagging her to calm down or see a dentist or something. I am sorry to say she had to sleep with that bone in her mouth all night but what happened the next day was magical.

By noon, mom was trying to encourage me to go bone-digging again (imagine me rolling my eyes and trying to sum up some kind of spirit to help me brace everything ALL OVER AGAIN). Me and my bone-digging equipments were mouth-prodding once more and to my amazement, I saw the largest bone I have ever seen in a human's mouth! Ok, fine I don't look down anyone's mouth anyways, but that's besides the point! I couldn't believe it could've been there yesterday! So out did that evil piece of fishy sediment came!

Inevitably, my mom was delighted (imagine gay prances and praises of salvation) and needless to say, so was I.

PS: I am impressed I wrote a novel on a fish-bone. A single fish-bone.