Wired Up At MMI



One of my Blog readers, Muhammad Fikri a.k.a Leo told me to place a pen and a piece of paper next to my pillow before I go to bed. For what purpose you may ask?



If I were to dream anything unusual or what I think may happen to me in real life, I would jot the events on the piece of paper before I go to sleep again and forget everything when I wake up in the morning.



Silly it may seems but why not give it a try. Later before I sleep, I shall do as what he told. Am I feeling stupid about this whole idea? My answer would be a firm NO. Excited would describe what I am feeling now.



On the previous day, I had to wake up as early as 7 in the morning to get ready for my appointment at MMI building for my NS medical appointment. If you're wondering, it's still not time yet for me to serve National Service.



Lack of sleep, I felt grouchy. I was dragging my feet the entire time. Upon reaching the place, we were amazed by the advanced elevators they have. There were simply advanced technology elevators.



Wondering how advanced they could be, you may check out yourself but be prepared to be stopped by the security guards if you are there only to survey the elevators.



They will ask for your identification card and then bring you to a dark confine room. Afterward, they will ask you several questions and if your answers are not up to their expectations, they will handcuff you.



But before they do, you will be slapped silly.



Don't worry, it was just a joke.



I reached the designated floor but then was told to proceed a level below after filing in my particulars and re-affirming the time of my appointment.



Yet again, I was amazed with the elevators.



My parents and I were about to open the door and enter the room when abruptly, someone from behind interrupted us.



It was one of the officers there. He guided us the way and told my parents to sit down while I proceed with him to the counter. I passed him my appointment slips and was told to strip to my t-shirt and shorts.



I did as he told and waited for his next instruction. I sat next to my parents and waited patiently.



Before I continue my entry, I would want to inform my Blog readers that my keyboard is not working properly. It's hard for me to press the letters P and R. So if there are any mistakes, please inform me by e-mailing me at icyboy85@gmail.com.



The officer told me to advance to one of the rooms. My parents decided to follow us and watched me do my appointment.



Upon entering the room, I saw treadmills and cardiograms. Ah! I'm supposed to run, I thought.



My parents sat at the comfy chair while I was told to move to one of the seats next to the treadmill. Then the same officer told me to take my shirt off and lie down on one of the movable beds.



The next thing I know was that they started to paste stickers on my chest and stomach. I started to feel nervous. Are they going to MUMMIFY me with the stickers and import me to Egypt, Cairo?



I pondered. My heart began thumping as if it's going to pop out. Miraculously, it did not. I heaved a huge sigh of relieve.



They started inserting wires to the pasted stickers. Wires, wires and more wires! I concluded that I will be running on the treadmill while they observe my heartbeats.



They strapped up something soft and cool around my hand. Ah! Nice... And then I realize that they were actually taking my blood pressure.



Afterward, they told me to step on the treadmill. Seconds later, I began walking slowly on the treadmill. I was still feeling pretty okay except for feeling nervous.



Amidst the walk, the officer started to strike a conversation with me.



"Where are you studying now?" asked the officer.



Of course, I replied him and even told him where it was located as I know he was going to ask me that later on.



The treadmill speed abruptly increased and I began to walk even faster. Damn! I had just strain my left foot muscle a couple of days ago and now I have to do this kind of things. I prayed that it would not strain further.



And then he asked what does the HSS stands for on the shorts that I was wearing. Already heaving and gasping for air, I replied seconds later.



The speed of the treadmill began to increase again. This time, I was running and hoping that he could stop asking me questions already.



But what a polite and friendly officer he is I must say. After the whole process, I rested myself on the bed and tore the stickers from my body.



At the end of the appointment, I was fatigue. I could no longer walk properly. I want to go home and sleep on my comfy bed.



Minutes later, we left the room and I bid goodbye to the friendly officer. If only I know his name.



Signing Off,

Shah Rizal Isaac