July 2025: Collective Health Hazard and Recovery #421

Week 1:

July began with a lot of enthusiasm and hope. I had planned to go to the office every day this week to keep the end of the month less hectic. But after just one day, I had to abandon that plan. Mum suddenly fell sick, and I decided to stay back and help out at home while she recovered.

Now that I think about it, it was a no-brainer for me to change my plans. If it were earlier times, I would’ve tried to gauge everyone else’s sentiments—whether they could manage without me at home—because going to the office was important to me… But I’m glad I’ve started expecting less from people now. I try to help wherever I can, and when I can’t, I try to make peace with it. Parents, in their effort to support their children’s interests, often go too far—compromising their health, their dreams, their everything. That thought frustrates me. I’m not sure if it’s because I might become a parent one day and can’t imagine doing all those selfless things… or because, as one of those children, I carry an unbearable guilt—knowing how often our paths end up hurting theirs.

One night, I had an odd dream—a heart-to-heart with an old friend. Someone I once considered my best friend back in the early undergrad days. Female friendships in my life have been… underwhelming. We drifted apart before life even had a chance to leap forward. There’s still some resentment inside me… because every time I reached out to her afterward, hoping to stay in touch, I was only met with passiveness. In my dream, I was watching a sky full of dark clouds. And as I watched, the clouds kept coming toward me… I closed my eyes, and I could feel them passing through me.

A couple of days later, I found myself facing those very same clouds in waking life… sitting in the dark corner of my room, scattered on the floor, unable to hold back my tears. There’s so much pain we carry quietly. And it only spills when someone’s cruel words pierce the heart—waking up those old wounds. People call it overreaction, attention-seeking… but only you know how weak you’ve become holding those storms inside, all while pretending to be calm.

Over the weekend, I took a few interviews—it was annoying how most candidates didn’t even show up. One, however, surprised me. He was cross-eyed, had shoulder-length hair, a beard, and nails longer than I’ve ever seen. He spoke like a voice recorder—after every question, a long pause, followed by a rehearsed response. When I’d gently interrupt to ask a follow-up, he’d cut me off and go back to repeating the same explanation… over and over.

The only other candidate that day was completely clueless about the role. It’s funny how some people proudly flaunt their fake projects. I wonder what kind of fools they think we are.

Week 2:

The week began with scattered energy. I took a day off to go to the hospital and later visited our Guruji, who was in town for Guru Purnima. It’s a pity that we get to see him only once a year, but I felt lucky to be home this time—to meet him, his many disciples, and be there with my family.

Workwise, not much changed. There’s been some restructuring and layoffs on the client side, though I’m still waiting to see how that affects us. I’ve also been training a new teammate who might take over my role in the current project. But honestly, nothing is set in stone. One day we’re excited about new work, new teams, and the next—everything gets scrapped.

Week 3:

Since I couldn’t go to the office in the first two weeks, I was determined to make it in Week 3 and 4—no matter what!

But life, of course, had other plans.

One day, I had to cancel because I barely got three hours of sleep. Some people power through on caffeine, but I’ve always had a sensitive system—and I didn’t want to push myself further.

The next morning, I woke up with a sore throat and a feverish feeling—not bad enough to take the day off. Plus, the guilt of not sticking to the previous day’s plan pushed me. I ignored the pit in my stomach, got dressed, and went to work. But once I got there, I started feeling incredibly cold—even in a full-sleeved top. My condition worsened inside the office’s glassy air-conditioned building. My voice cracked, my body ached like I’d done intense manual labour. I was burning up, and I had no medicines on me. I quietly prayed, finished my work somehow, and hopped onto the earliest shuttle. It was raining heavily, but thankfully, I didn’t get drenched.

By night, my body fully gave in. I had no strength left, and the fever kept rising. I took one day off and then reluctantly worked from home the rest of the week.

That weekend, nobody turned up for interviews again, but I still had to stay on alert in case someone did.

After five days of persistent fever and cough, I visited the doctor—kindly accompanied by my parents.

I finished watching Reply 1988 and Good Boy that week (yep, we’re way past one-episode-a-day). I was in bed most of the time, and these shows distracted me from all the physical discomfort.

Week 4:

The medicines worked—the fever was gone—but I still felt weak, not confident enough to step out.

Then one morning, I woke up with excruciating pain in my lower back. Maybe I slept in a bad posture? God knows. The pain was sharp and localized. As I tried to get out of bed, I felt like I’d been stabbed—I couldn’t even breathe. My sister rushed in as I cried out. It wasn’t just back pain. My blood pressure might have dropped too—I was dizzy and could barely see. She helped me to the restroom and back. How did I get so sick? I honestly have no idea.

Meanwhile, both my parents also fell ill—with symptoms worse than mine. Five years ago, we all had COVID and even then, Mum had to be hospitalized. But somehow, this felt more worrying.

In the middle of all this, one of my aunts—Dad’s youngest sister—visited. Despite meeting her after two decades and no phone contact, there was a strange familiarity. She was a very considerate guest and helped a lot while both Mum and Dad were down with high fever.

Between the lingering weakness, back pain, and everyone being sick at home, I took a few more days off. The days were filled with anxiety, dread, and confusion. My mind was just overwhelmed.

Thankfully, the same doctor treated Mum and she recovered by the end of the week. Dad too started feeling better, though not fully.

Month End:

My back still bothered me, though it wasn’t as bad as before. To ease my mind, I visited a doctor and got some tests done. Everything we do—our habits, our choices—impacts our body and mind. Even if the effects don’t show right away, the damage surfaces eventually. We can only try to make conscious choices every day… but still, we might not be able to protect ourselves completely.

This month, health became the biggest concern for all of us. With the rising anxiety, I paused all my creative projects and even the self-paced studies I had started.

Shows that kept me from spiraling:

When I was stuck in bed with fever and despair, I kept myself distracted with K-dramas. This month I finished watching 1) Mr. Queen (2020), 2) Love in the Moonlight (2016), 3) Encounter (2018), 4) Reply 1988 (2015), 6) Good Boy (2025), 7) Wonderland (2024 Movie), 8) Legend of the Blue Sea (2016), and 9) Record of Youth (2020). Then started with Hello, Monster (also known as I Remember You, 2015).

And what’s the common thread in most of these shows, you ask? Park Bo-gum. Yeah… I think I’ve got a big fat crush on this guy right now.

Mum made amazing Hakka noodles that I want to remember every time I return to this blog. I made chocolate chip date cake (no flour, no added sugar)- yes I am still experimenting with date cakes. I bought some overpriced chocolates that were totally disappointing… The date bites were filling but no major difference in the 3 flavors.