White Water Rafting, Abseiling & Caving

My Hari Raya plans...tentatively...leaning towards a definite maybe. Ha ha! How vague can one be. My apologies. It's late and feeling very 'sian' now. Also very low on sugar. But still...after having my initial post raya plans scrambled into nothing-ness by minute minds...and then being approached by Lionel to join in his weekend of craziness...I sort of jumped at the idea of 'crazy' (what can I say, crazy people devise crazy plans). And if I so happen to twist a pinky or two and somehow was awarded a mc or two...then that's what I would call poetic justice. But that's the 'sian' part of me still yapping away.

THE PLAN

Okay. So here's the plan. It's white water rafting...something I ALWAYS wanted to do...so no worries there. However, Mr Loke of course had to include abseiling and caving. And the challenge here is...my two fears (I have counted...there are three things that I am kind of phobic about) involve heights and tight spaces (not telling you what the third is). I am not joking. I think that the heights part...the thrill seeking part of me can overcome...but the claustrophobia...hhhmmm...I need a game plan here.

HOW BAD IT CAN BE

An example, when I was in Turkey (Cappadocia if I am not mistaken) and a bunch of us went into the underground cave dwellings...I was fine until the tunnels started to narrow and I became accutely aware of the rapid decline of oxygen per square centimeter and the equally rapid increase of carbon dioxide into the environment. Then I started thinking...oh %$^&...I am breathing in everyone's exhaled toxic air...and I am going to pass out from all that carbon dioxide...&^**...it's kind of gross breathing in all these recycled stale air...everyone's inhaling each other's exhaled air...in and out...in and out...no fresh air...why?...I NEED TO GET OUT!

THE SWEET ESCAPE

Thank God for these thoughts because by the time my brains got to the 'I NEED TO GET OUT!' phase...the whole group had indeed just made it out into the open air and was spared of the dramatics that threatened to escape from my delirious mind.

LISHA PSYCHO-ING HERSELF

Well, we are all overcomers. That I believe. If I can get over needles and blood by donating blood (no, that's not the third thing) regularly every three months (plus it saves lives...so people...mari-lah kita beramai-ramai menderma darah...in UMMC...very comfortable chairs and convenient parking outside...call me...I am due to be sucked dry in a month's time), then I can do this. I can. I definitely can (cold beads of sweat appearing on forehead now). Bah! Good night then. Will continue this self psycho-ing tomorrow.