KEEP IT IN THE PHAMLY

There are some experiences in my life that I don't fully understand, and this is one of them. I used to love supernatural, ghostly, ghastly movies as a kid, but at some point, I stopped being able to stand the creepy feeling and it's because I had my own unexplained paranormal experience. Horror movies, I can do. But paranormal especially when it's in the home or modern-day buildings? No, thank you. Nah-uh.

It was definitely not sleep paralysis, which is a common scientific explanation for what I saw. I've had sleep paralysis where I knew I had been asleep and woke up and felt like I was sinking into the mattress and couldn't move. This was different.

I was wide awake reading the latest Wheel of Time book by Robert Jordan. It was 2-3 am in the morning (uni life, I didn't have to get up early unless I had a morning class) and ever since I'd gone to bed that night at about 1 am to read I'd had this creepy feeling that something wasn't right. At one point I noticed a gross, giant cockroach in the corner of my bedroom and thought maybe that creepy feeling was from that - I loathe cockroaches, I'm just glad even though they can fly that they usually prefer to scamper around on the floor where I can evade them.

I tried to brush off the feeling but it wouldn't go away. I was laying on the left side of my bed by the bedside table and lamp. I continued reading and at one point, something told me to look to my left to the open floor space next to my bed. That's when I saw him. Somehow I identified him as he. He had no definable features - no face and no hair. He was like a 2D flat black shadow figure that didn't cast a shadow. He had a clear outline that wasn't a hard line or blurred, instead, his edges seemed to shift with energy even though he stood completely still. I could make out a bald head and chin, and I'm not sure if I saw the ridge of a straight nose as my head moved angles.

I saw his black shadowy waist first standing next to my bed. My head and eyes travelled upwards until I was looking at where his face would have been. His head was angled and his neck curved in a way that made me feel he'd been standing there a while observing and assessing me. And I'd only just been able to see him now after sensing him all night. I don't know what he was assessing me for but I had a dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach that I did not want to match whatever criteria he was searching for.

We stared at each other for maybe 10 seconds before I looked down at my book and snapped it closed and hit him with it, but when I looked back to take a swipe he'd disappeared and the feeling of dread went too. It was like a weight suddenly lifted from my shoulders. I kept the book closed, only a little aware that I'd lost my place, shoved it on my bedside table, and dived under my blankets. I slept with the light on that night with my head underneath the blanket and peeped out now and then even though I felt he wasn't coming back I just wanted to make sure.

The creepiest part of this experience was later that week, we were chatting with my neighbour and her daughter, whose bedroom faces mine, had a similar encounter. This Shadow Man seemed to be moving from house to house that night hunting something - perhaps weakness? - in young people. A way inside to possess or influence us in a bad way? I don't know.

I've since learned that Shadow people are fairly common sightings. Though, other reports commonly include red eyes, hat and cloak or jacket. My Shadow Man had no apparel, no hair, and no eyes. He was just an outline and even though he was very still, the blackness seemed to be energised and moving. It's hard to describe. I can still visualise the shadow that wasn't shadow. It wasn't still. It felt like it was moving sharply and sporadically - there was no discernable pattern to how the blackness shifted.

I've been thinking about him lately after listening to the first episode of the Otherworld podcast and being reminded about Shadow people. I try not to think about this experience because I don't want to invite this type of energy back into my life. I like my world to be simple and not scary and unexplainable.

Written February 12, 2023: Oh boy. Did I have an un-fun lesson to learn in February this year. I thought I was doing so well looking after my health proactively, and then one day of back-to-back Zoom meetings in peak Brisbane humidity and heatwave - BAM! That itch on my chest, which I thought was just my sweaty tee rubbing my skin the wrong way turned into what I assumed was a heat rash, which turned out to be the beginning of a massive hives breakout, which could have been a lot quicker to recover from if I'd just made the time to go to the doctors instead of putting it off for work meetings. Ah! Why do I never learn?!

The first doctor looked at me and immediately knew I was having an allergic reaction to something. Most likely food because it started along my chest and neck. He sent me home with an order to get Zyrtec and an eczema cream for eczema that had started forming in my sweaty inner elbows.

That night, as if to punish me for not seeing the doctor sooner, my hives spread to my arms and legs and belly. The only safe zone was my back - thank god, I had an angle to sleep on even though it meant that I snored. Sorry Boyfriend Pham! I took a day off work to sit on the couch and feel terribly itchy and uncomfortable in my own skin but it kept getting worse. I tried to see my doctor again but he was booked out and not available for another 5 days. No way was I waiting that long!

I went to another doctor and he also immediately knew I was having an allergic reaction to something. He speculated it could be something in my environment since it was my whole body and advised me to wash my bedsheets and cotton tees in plain hot water since it could be a change in the formula in my washing detergent that set me off. He then told me to ditch Zyrtec and go with Claratyne as that antihistamine is stronger (the first doctor said the same thing about Zyrtec... does anyone know? Or are they stronger for different things?). Anyhoo, the second doctor also sent me home with steroids (Prednisolone) to help reduce my inflammation and calm my immune system down.

I had almost instant relief with the steroids. A few hours after my first dose I stopped wanting to claw my way out of my own skin. The next day my raging red hives faded to pink and no longer burned hot to the touch. I am only on Day 3 now and am learning that I have to do everything I can to avoid feeling warm and getting sweaty because it triggers the dreaded itch and irritates the hives.

I have a week-long work trip to Sydney tomorrow. It's going to be an uncomfortable work trip and, while I wish I could postpone, literally everyone in my team is flying in for the event. I don't want to put work first all the time, but for the most part, I'll be sitting comfortably in air conditioning in a training room or an air-conditioned airport or plane or taxi. I will let you know how the rest of my recovery goes and whether I am forever like this once I'm off the course of steroids.

I strongly suspect my allergic reaction was to excessive sweating on that fateful Wednesday when I didn't turn on the fan let alone the air-con unit while I jumped from one Zoom meeting to the next without a break. My body has been running hotter and sweatier since I started taking thyroid meds and I think that contributed to this mess.

But boy, being allergic to sweat in humid Brisbane is not going to be a fun life if this is my new normal. Wish me luck!

April 22, 2023 update: So, when Doctor 2 asked me if I had any recent changes in medicine I didn't realise that 'recent' in health terms meant 3+ months ago. I'd started thyroid meds approx. 3 months before my hives appear and someone at work (in healthcare, he's not an unqualified mansplainer) said it takes about 3 months for meds to update blood levels. So, yup. I don't think I'm allergic to my environment. I'm allergic to whatever the thyroid meds triggered in my body. Fun! I am now off those meds.

Sometimes I feel I spend all my attention on detail at work and, as a result, my personal life descends into oblivious chaos. When I received my building pass for the new job, I knew the basic, pleb, navy lanyard was just not going to do. No, I had to get something bright, something pink, something that would make my office outfits pop.

And so I found myself on the Yarn website (https://www.yarn.com.au/) browsing their lanyards section. Yarn is owned by non-indigenous people but works to provide a marketplace for Australian Aboriginal Indigenous designers and producers to sell their wares. I fell in love with the Kangaroo Dance Lanyards by artist Charlie Chambers Jnr. (Aboriginal Jarowair man) and ordered one online. I took so long to publish this post that all their lanyards are now sold out. Here's a link to Alperstein Designs aboriginal art products including lanyards, which also support original Australian design. 

Lo and behold when the parcel arrives, I discover I have indeed ordered 1 pack of 10 lanyards. Oops. Faced with the fact I only have one neck and, therefore, only need one lanyard I decided to pimp the other 9 lanyards out to my team at work. I expected to get rid of a few but they were surprisingly popular and were gone within a few days.

Next followed a fun couple of weeks of trying to get people to deliver the lanyards interstate as part of their work travels. Some forgetful types carried the lanyards to Sydney and back to Brisbane. But eventually, with a little help from my work friends and Australia Post I got all the lanyards out to colleagues along the East Coast. It was fun to see people's faces light up over receiving a tiny gift, and the team bonds it built to have a cluster of us rocking the same pink and blue kangaroo art lanyards. We are our own lanyard gang, with an origin story that makes people giggle to remember I am a dope despite appearing super organised at work.

Once upon a time, my casual clothes were my work clothes because people in the fashion and music industries avoid having to grow up. I've since changed industries and gone from one wardrobe to three. Casual clothes, work clothes and Zoom video conferencing clothes.

When I'm in the office, I wear semi-corporate wear. Pencil skirts, blouses and brogues. It's not mandatory in my office; people wear a range of casual to corporate outfits. Semi-corporate is my preference after a lifetime in casual wear. It's fun to try new things. That said, I don't quite blend in with the rest of the work crew. A project sponsor introduced me to someone recently and explained I used to work in fashion, that's why when you look around the office I stick out like, "Bing!" he points his index finger straight up, with my colourful outfits and make-up. Glad you know you can take the girl out of fashion but you can't take fashion out of the girl.

When I work from home, I wear my Zoom outfits. Zoom outfits include mini dresses and skirts that I used to wear to work because I was into less modest fashion. Now I'm rounder than I used to be the same dresses and skirts ride up more than they used to, and I don't feel professional flashing my undies around the office. But on Zoom? People wouldn't know if I didn't have pants on so minis are good. They also don't know that this is Rei Pham's Zoom position. She will eventually lay down but she likes to start our day off blocking my screen. 

Some folks wear tees verging on pyjamas when they work from home but I did that once upon a time and after a while felt really frumpy. So, I wear Zoom work outfits where I look professional on top to work from home. The only time I've gone extra casual was yesterday when I was recovering from allergies and had all-over body hives and swollen face (a story for another time) - no way was I putting on anything but a loose cotton tee and loose gym shorts.

My casual clothes are now just casual for weekends and the odd weeknight evening out. Though, usually, weeknights are gym gear then PJs. 

The beginning

I started off on the wrong foot with 2022. I planned for chaos, if you recall. (I did not recall, I just went back through my blog. This year has been a blur). I did not take a break over Xmas, I did not pass Go, I did not collect some Me Time. Instead, I dived from hectic workload to hectic workload. Big mistake. Huge. 

I felt drained and completely run down. I felt so swamped with work duties and deadlines I kept skipping gym with Boyfriend Pham. Of course, that only compounded my problems. 

The middle

I did not anticipate a change in jobs after 7 years in the company, and changed industries after 17 years in entertainment, retail and e-commerce. The leap into healthcare was exciting because it'd been years since I'd learned new skills and knowledge at a steep and accelerated rate. 

I've been working to get my physical and mental health in check all year. I was seriously burnt out but in denial. I stupidly did not take a break between jobs so I went from one stressful situation to another type of stressful situation. Luckily, the management levels above me all prioritise personal health so it has helped me to make time for myself rather than ignoring my body and only feeding my brain. 

The end

I am on a concoction of supplements and medicines to help with a range of deficiencies. I think the thyroid meds have made the most noticeable difference though. I feel more energised and effective. It's like a haze that I never fully realised was there has lifted from my brain. I'd gotten so used to feeling exhausted, I thought it was just adulthood.

I started Reformer Pilates this year, thanks to a recommendation from a neighbour friend. I have kept up regular gym sessions with my gym buddy. I am hopeful I will start to feel and see results now my hormones, vitamins and minerals are in better ratios. I discovered at the end of this year that my blood pressure is on the high end of the normal range, so a goal for 2023 is to get my heart in better health.  

I'm at a point in my life (and mortgage repayments) where I can treat myself to healthy hobbies like gym and Reformer Pilates. Though, it took Boyfriend Pham to talk me around to forking out money for classes because my inner-stingy self doesn't like to part with any money.

One of our neighbour-friends introduced me to the local studio. She took me to induction class and showed me the ropes. Literally. Reformer Pilates is done on a machine with strappy ropes. I had always been too intimidated by the machine and the super fit people that are photographed on those machines. The actual people in classes range from super fit down to me - chubby office pleb with weak arms, bad knees and zero core strength.

Neighbour-friend and I went to a few classes together before her work hours shifted and no longer aligned with my office pleb schedule. I've kept up the classes and aim to keep them up so long as I don't make any stupid decisions that send me broke.

Reformer Pilates is expensive at Studio Pilates - 20-something dollars per class depending on the class pass you purchase upfront. I can afford it so I treat myself to classes in their really nice studio, with really good machines, and friendly attentive trainers. I did a trial class at a gym that was way cheaper, but the classes were triple the size, the machines were smaller and lower quality, and it was a drive instead of a walk away. That said, if budget was my top priority, I'd have sucked it up and taken classes at the gym instead of with Studio Pilates.

Highly recommend you do a trial class at a couple of different places to see what suits you! I feel strong and more flexible since adding reformer pilates to my life.

Someone at work asked me if my parents were strict growing up as Asian parents are known to be. It got me thinking. They were both the youngest of 10 children so by the time they were going through childhood their parents would have been less strict. Mum wasn't strict in most ways, but she was dead set on getting school educated.

Mum Pham was the book smart parent. She was studious and disciplined, and a qualified pharmacist (though the communists wouldn't give her a degree because she refused to serve in their army). Growing up all the pressure to study and go to university came from Mum. Dad Pham? Not so much for formal education. He once got in trouble with my Aunty when he suggested our cousin (her son) may be better off doing a trade. She was so outraged by the notion, she didn't talk to Dad for half a year.

I never really thought about why Dad Pham was so much more relaxed about education than Mum and most other Asian parents. That is, until one day, in one of his reflective moods he told me about how he failed forward into the navy.

At school, he ranked 130-something out of 134 for language. He gave so few shits, he didn't bother to remember exactly how low he scored. Now, Dad is not a dumbass by any means. He is actually more intelligent, calculating and strategic than Mum Pham in most ways. But he was too smart for formal education - because it was too easy for him, he got bored. Big Brother Pham would one day follow in Dad's footsteps - he was too smart for boring bookish study.

Dad joined the navy because he didn't have many other options. In the navy, with all the hands-on practical training and studies, Dad actually ranked 24, which was pretty high up there. His own life experience is why he's open to children doing trades or anything hands-on. Books aren't for everyone. Though, books turned out to be for me; they were definitely not for Big Brother Pham. Little Sissy Pham was somewhere in between - I think she'd have excelled at a sport if we could afford sport, but instead being poor forced her down the study route.

Even though I am a book nerd, I believe you should learn life your own way. Whatever suits your interests and skills is what you should pursue. Otherwise, you either won't be happy or won't excel in what you do... or both. 

Someone asked recently if Dad Pham was still by himself after it came out in conversation that Mum was no longer with us. Dad has remained single since her passing in 2011 and has no interest in finding another love or companion. He says Mum was a devoted wife. She took us to see Dad every evening on the bus when he was hospitalised numerous times throughout our childhood. She never complained when he sent all their money back to his family in Vietnam.

Mum Pham had a quiet strength that wasn't obvious if you didn't truly know her. She was always so loving and generous, she'd come across as a bit of a pushover to strangers she went out of her way to accommodate. But it takes strength to be that open and vulnerable and give to others, especially when times are tough or relationships soured - she never turned away anyone in need. If anything, she held them closer.

Mum Pham bestowed all three Phamlings with her quiet strength. I'm proud when people tell me I'm a quiet achiever. It's often given as critical feedback to be more assertive and vocal, because extroverts rule the world (and look where that's led us). I'll always prefer to be a good listener like Mum than a fancy wordsmith any day. 

Dad Pham had been in love withs someone else before he met Mum Pham.

On one of his reflective days, he told me a bit about her. They met at the US Culture Wellness Centre in Vietnam. He said she has a round face like Mum Pham, like me. That made me laugh. Boyfriend Pham has taken to calling me moon-face because in a moment of self-doubt, I wondered if he and I looked similar in anyway. I don't want to be one of those couples who look like siblings. He reminded me I am Vietnamese, and he is Australian. Also, the only thing we have in common is I have a big round face, and he has a small round face. We only have moon-faces in common. Phew.

Dad told me after the American war in Vietnam he had to flee and he asked his first love to come with him. But they weren't married so it was improper and she chose to stay with her family rather than flee. He loved her and would have married her if he'd stayed.

The two of them got in touch a number of years after Mum Pham passed. They started off with snail mail, then I was given an email address and started scanning Dad's handwritten letters and sending them. There was back and forth for a time while they caught up on each other's lives since the war. Eventually Dad does what his schizophrenia always does, and he moved onto the next phase and stopped writing. He didn't see the point since he would never go back to Vietnam, and she would never come to Australia.

Mum Pham used to speak of another woman Dad met while he was a refugee in Singapore. They parted ways because she left for America and Dad didn't want to go there. Instead, he went to Germany where he became an interpreter and met Mum Pham.

Thank you to the wonderful team @theplantlounge in Nundah for splitting our plant baby into two pots, and showing us how to treat her bugs with Neem oil. So Rei Pham could harass it some more.

We got her from the Plant Lounge in December 2020 - our first plant purchase for our new home. After nearly killing her with lack of sun inside over the first 5 months (her demise is pictured in the gallery), we put her outside after our new kitten sat on her and broke nearly all her limbs. She bounced back with a bit of sun and daily watering for the remainder of last year, and outgrew her pot so we split her in two this year! Now we have double the love and can rotate the plants in and out to get the much needed indirect sunlight.

Our kitten is a cat and no longer into crushing the houseplant, so we look forward to getting more indoor plants from @theplantlounge to make our house feel more homely. ❤️ We now have four plant babies from the Plant Lounge that get rotated from our mildly sunny courtyard into our sun-free living areas. And, of course, are keen to get more now that Rei Pham has gotten used to indoor plants and has stopped digging, eating or knocking the plants over.

The Plant Lounge is online and has a storefront in Nundah that is shared with Vessel Nundah, who provide zero-waste skincare and cleaning products. Drop by the store for a friendly chat with the knowledgable owners or browse online: https://www.theplantlounge.com.au/