September 8th 2007 [Post 2]

Second post today.
I woke early this morning because I wanted to visit the AMK polyclinic's pharmacy to inquire about seeing-sticks for blind people. I mentioned in one of the earlier posts that I'd like to invest in one if it's/they're not too expensive.
I went after breakfast, which was beehoon. It was crowded there, people in wheelchairs, sick people, healthy people. Children, adults, elderly. Some were sitting on those plastic orange chairs in rows, waiting for their call number to appear on the screen. Children were begging parents to buy them sweets, and I have to admit, there was quite a nice and wide selection there. Now I know where to buy healthy, good-tasting sweets!
I went to the home-care section where they sold wheelchairs, crutches
and so on. There was a short-haired woman seated at a desk there. I asked her if they sold seeing-sticks for blind people, and she said she didn't know, because she wasn't in charge of that section.
I found that made no sense, for she was sitting in it. She told me to ask the guy at the cashier, he was in charge of that section. So I went back to the cashier. It's like having to go through an obstacle course. Dodging running children, skirting around wheelchairs. Finally, I got there.
There were two people talking to the guy at the counter/cashier, so I waited. I just observed my surroundings while waiting, and then turned back to the people infront of me. They were Indian. One was a middle-aged man, and the other was a woman whom I estimated to be around 60 years old. I assumed they were mother and son. The son talked to his mother about different needles. The guy behind the counter took from the shelves several samples of the different sizes, later to be put in syringes.

At that very moment I realised how lucky I was to be alive and well. Sometimes life becomes too much for me and I wish I were dead, but I realised how lucky I was/am. All those people in the pharmacy, rushing around, waiting for medicine, buying medical instruments (like the woman and the needles), they all wanted to live. They saw living as a privilege. People queued for their medicine to stop the pain they felt, or because they were afraid to die.
I walked out of the pharmacy then, and went home without having inquired about the seeing-stick.