A Life Less Ordinary

How do I explain how Sri Lanka is alive in a way that Australia is not? Perhaps it’s just the crowding, the heat, the chaos. Whatever it is, there is life everywhere, the streets are packed and busy, there is culture all around you, all the time. Cobblers on the pavement, fixing shoes, street vendors selling guavas and mangos at the top of their voices, three-wheelers (tuk-tuks) winding in and out of traffic, rickety buses squashed with people. The heat. Random goats, cows, dogs, cats and chickens. Blue kingfishers and other tropical birds. Hordes of crows picking at piles of decaying rubbish. Bus conductors calling out their bus destinations: “Akurana akurana! Katugastota! Akurana!”.

We saw a water purification plant and came up with many ways to dispose of people. There were the “rapids of death waterfall manhole”, the “mustard gas chamber”, the “skirt-eating fan of doom” and the “sludge bucket”. We hope to return some day to commit many a murder, some of which may be featured on such British shows as “Saturday night murders”, “A murder too far”, “Murder, a drink with jam and bread” and “the sound of murder”. I can’t believe this, but due to my unoriginality that entire paragraph will be reproduced on Snipergirl. Anyway, what was I saying? Sri Lankan plants are dangerous!

I am no longer sleeping in the same room as my grandmother who sleep-shouts. This is very good, as now I can actually get some decent uninterrupted sleep. In fact last night I was very happy to receive all of a sound 9 hours or so. While I had some odd dream featuring pretty Malaysian girls kissing each other and woke up feeling groggy as usual, the effects of my increased sleep is profound. I can string sentences together again!

We have also determined that the worst thing that could ever happen is going through Labour Colour Oedema Anaesthesia Theatre at the Centre for Paediatrics (OK, so maybe I went overboard with the Brytysh speeling, but really what I meant was labour, as in the pregnancy, not as in the work or the politics. Isn’t it a shame that you didn’t end up at the Women’s Hospital, you ended up at the CHILDREN’S?!?!?!), while you’re passing a kidney stone. Then, suddenly, you get a 3rd degree perineal tear. Then you get pyelonephritis (kidney infection). Then you have an asthma attack. So your obstetrician decides you’re better off if you have a caesarian, making all that pain and suffering a bit, well, redundant. Then they shatter your kidney stone with ultrasound at the same time (this is the only happy part of this story). After all of that, you manage to get an amniotic fluid embolism, which manages to give you disseminated intravascular coagulation (DIC or basically having so many tiny little clots EVERYWHERE that you can just bleed to death). Then you die of strokes. The end.

“Thilini just said that it is ok to make fun of dead people ie if this actually happened to someone…she is going straight to hell in a handbasket!!!!!!!!!!!”

Clearly I have been having too much fun. Till next time!

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