I always have the habit of doing things impulsively without much forethought.

Last Friday I drove past a BP Laboratory when I decided to drive in and fill up my petrol tank when I remembered a thought-provoking entry I read on sixthseal.com. Guide to HIV Testing in Malaysia is a down-to-earth blog entry focusing on the importance of HIV Testing from a youth’s point of view, as opposed to mother-like annoying reading materials from both government and non-government organization.
This is the same entry than earned the blogger HB an award by the Malaysian AIDS Council for creating HIV awareness in the country. An unsolved mystery remains till today as to why our traditionally conservative leaders (including Badawi, Mahathir and his daughter Marina) so happily presented the award to HB, whilst conveniently overlooking the fact that the said article as well as the rest of the blog included references to the blogger’s “ALLEGED” pharmaceutical + illicit + recreational drug use. Hmmm…

Like most people my age, I grew up overloaded with HIV/AIDS information. I know what they’re trying to achieve when they said they wanted to create awareness, but somehow listening to them constantly bombarding us with HIV awareness messages like that since PRIMARY SCHOOL kinda numbed its effect on me when I grow older and am actually ready for a sex life (not that I have any now anyway). I understand there’s a need for HIV awareness, but for fuck’s sake primary schools are not the place for it!
Once I heard an enthusiastic anti-HIV campaigner/auntie on the radio. Interestingly, the radio DJ’s name is Rose, but the aunty kept calling her Roast. I thought why anyone would be so stupid as to name themselves Roast, until the DJ signed off by saying with a hint of sarcasm “This is ROSALIND. Thanks for joining us.”

This is what I thought the scene was like at the studio

The anti-HIV auntie lamented the fact that when she gave out pamphlets to people in shopping malls, people threw them in the bin instead of reading it. Well of course they threw it in the bin! Its always the same textbook shit: use condoms lah, don’t share needles lah, don’t sleep around lah. We’ve all heard it a thousand time before and we don’t need to hear it again. Besides most people like myself always bear that “Its never gonna happen to me” attitude.
Its only after reading the aforementioned blog and watching a Japanese mini-series about AIDS (starring Kyoko Fukada and Takeshi Kanena) that I changed my attitude and realize “Shit, this HIV thing is risky business!”

Anyway I impulsively made a U-turn and proceeded right into the clinic asking for a HIV test. The lady at the counter gave me a form to fill out and asked for my identity card. Now here’s where I chose NOT to give out my personal information because if, IF I’m HIV-positive, my personal information will be entered into the government registry and I would be placed under constant scrutiny. Who know they might even cast me away on an isolated island with other AIDS sufferers to avoid infecting others.
I’m pretty confident I’m HIV-negative but I still asked to be anonymous so I wrote my name as ‘Kent’ (in case I forgot what I’m supposed to be called) I gave the form back to her along with the RM25 fee, and that was that.
The last blood test I took was eight years ago as part of my application for Australian permanent residency. Despite my enormous balls, I’m still chickenshit when it comes to needles. When I was younger I hated it when my mother tried to coax me into allowing the nurse to stick a needle into me by saying “don’t worry it won’t hurt” or “its only gonna hurt just a little” because GODAMMIT IT HURTS LIKE HELL ALRIGHT!?

That’s not me but I put the picture in there just to satisfy you sick freaks out there

Well the blood test was SOP. I felt stupid placing my arm on the padding because I actually paid RM25 to sit through this. Obviously I didn’t take any photos of the nurse drawing blood out of my veins because I was shaking with fear and I didn’t dare to look at the shiny needle piercing into me uhhh… the camera battery died on me.

My camera battery miraculously went alive again when I took this shot!

This is not related but there’s one incident back in Perth that still scares the living shit out of me when I think about it.
There’s one sunny afternoon when Nicole and I were walking towards Hay St Mall minding our own business when we were approached by a stranger asking for money. I don’t remember much about him but he was short, slim, droopy-eyed, olive-skinned and sported some curly locks. Come to think about it he kinda look like MotoGP racer Valentino Rossi.

Yes that’s the culprit! THAT’S HIM!

People who’ve been to Perth would know that there’s ALWAYS people asking you for money. My policy is not to give any money to random beggars off the streets because when you have your arms and legs attached I don’t see why you can’t get a job. Instead of someone wandering the streets asking me “Brudda… can I get dolla?”, I’d rather give my money to those buskers in the city because at least they provide me with crappy entertainment.
So I effectively told the stranger “No I don’t wanna give you any money”, which angered him. At that point he pulled out a syringe from his pocket, removed its orange cap to expose the needle and held it above his head repeatedly screaming “DO YOU WANT AIDS?! DO YOU WANT AIDS!? I’LL GIVE YOU AIDS!!” maniacally. Remember this all happened in matter for few seconds in broad daylight with busy shoppers walking around. I was terrified.
I wished I could say I turned into Jacky Chan, gave him some vicious karate chops and ripped a new asshole for him so when he shits it comes out of both holes. But I didn’t.
Instead I was busy wetting my pants handing him money from my wallet because I didn’t want Nicole or I to get into trouble. He demanded AUD$50 but I think I gave him a grand total of AUD$3 which was all the coins I had at the time.

Here’s where the needle poked, three days later.

Sorry I digressed.
Anyway, just earlier today I went to BP Labs and picked up my results.

Anti-HIV I & II Screening: Non Reactive. That means I’m indeed HIV-Negative. 🙂

That’s right. Kent err… Kenny is tested free from HIV. That means I’m a certified walking STUD and not a certified walking STD.
Please send all requests to have unprotected sex with me to iwannasleepwith@kennysia.com.
…
Just kidding, of course.
If your name is Nicole and you hate me, you may send a powderful computer virus to stupidbloodyidiotihateyou@kennysia.com.
Thank you.

I took so much pictures at the hospital, they’re actually thinking of sending me to a hospital of a different kind

You guys are too nice lah.
I disabled comments in my last entry because I didn’t want you guys to get too concerned or worried over me. Seems like I’ve underestimated the resourcefulness of kennysia.com readers.
Its only been two days, and already my e-mail and chatterbox were bombarded with messages from well-wishers. I might take some time to reply those e-mails, but I’d just like to say that those words meant a lot to me. From the bottom of his heart (what? I have a heart?), Kenny would like to say “gam-sia”. 🙂

My father smoking the most expensive cigarette in the world.

Yes, I spent my last two days at the hospital with my father. In a mad coincidence of events, my mother and my brother were both out of town for other equally important commitments, my sister has her own kids to take care of, so I ended up being the only person (apart from his siblings) able to care for him.

My survival kit for the next 40 hours. Yes I know its a little inappropriate but do I look like I care?

Anyway, it turned out that the wound on my father’s forehead was superficial. The reason he had to stay at the hospital for two nights was because his haemoglobin level was running low, and the blood bank was lacking fresh supplies for transfusion.
Well I was frustrated about the delay. Besides I think my father deserves only the best. So I flew to West Malaysia, slayed some young virgin girls and brought back some fresh blood for my father.

I’m sorry guys, but these annoying twats won’t be releasing any more albums next Chinese New Year!

Without a WiFi-enabled laptop I had lots of fun chatting to the wall. But in my 40 hours, I’ve observed that the scene at the medical ward was interesting to say the least. Seriously, before this, I thought my bedroom was the only place in the world where people would eat, shit and sleep at the same location.
One thing I find interesting was the doctors there.

Its a requirement to know how to do split legs if you want to earn a Doctor’s degree

I always had the stereotype that doctors are usually big fat balding middle-aged men with that sleazy look on their face, which was why I was quite surprised to see these slim-built good-looking 20-somethings wearing the sthetoscopes, complete with their hao lien Versace suits, Tag Heuer watches and overseas-educated accented English. WTF!?

The hospital turns into a spooky place at night

Staying at the hospital wasn’t that bad. Things only go bad at night because when you’re surrounded by sick people your mind starts playing tricks on you. Even normal things like an taking a lift becomes spooky.
I had the misfortune of riding a lift at 4am in the morning. It stopped at Level 4 and when it opened its door and no one was around. Normally I’d just be pissed off but when it happened last night I was so scared I hugged my balls for protection.
I like the picture of this corridor. It shows how quiet the ward was at night.

What? Is there something wrong with this pic?

Regardless, I’m sure glad this little ordeal is over. My father was discharged this morning and I finally get to sleep at my own bed for a change. Best of all, I’m finally re-united with my computer.
Now if you’ll excuse me I think I need a well-deserved sleep. 🙂