january microstories
things that happened and things I thought
1. the dentist and his tiny crunchy drill
For some reason, the only thing I keep repeating to myself while I lay too far back in the dentist chair, is endure. That’s what Chinese people do. They endure. The other thing that flits through my mind is this video of a comedian who said that the Chinese are so Chinese because we play mahjong. No matter what hand you’re given, you just have to deal with it. His bit wasn’t that funny (maybe because I’m bad at mahjong); still, his shiny purple suit forms a haze in my upended head.
The procedure takes almost two hours because my tooth is a little anomalous. I have a headache from being upside-down and nausea from the headache. My jaw hurts from being open. The goops they put on my tooth and gums taste horrible. Chills run through my body at random intervals, yet I’m not feverish. I am so tired from sub-threshold insomnia all week that I just want to pass out and get this whole thing over with. I know I won’t fall asleep, however much I want to— not with dizziness, aches, and bitterness on my tongue.
Endure, endure, endure. But I’m not a Chinese peasant living through 1949, I’m not an immigrant being humiliated on Angel Island, and I’ve never had anyone mock my accent (I don’t have one). I’m an American with dental insurance.
“Thank you for being so patient,” the dentist says for the tenth time.
2. the T cell dream
When I finally fall asleep, I dream that I have a chip in my head that monitors my brain activity. I dream that I take a nap for six hours and wake up feeling exhausted. I turn on my phone and the brain-chip app (of course there’s an app) warns, YOUR T CELL COUNT IS LOW! I wonder what a T cell is. I sleep again and again and again, but I wake up feeling the same and my T cell count never rises.
I wake up in the real world feeling exhausted. The cold light squeezing itself through the blinds soaks my room in gray.
What’s a T cell?
Still in bed, I google it and find that a T cell is a type of white blood cell that plays an essential role in the immune system. T cells mature in the thymus (an organ in the upper mid-chest) before traveling through the lymph system and in the bloodstream. T cells protect you from pathogens. You can boost T cells by doing a number of things, including sleeping at least seven to eight hours.1
I roll out of bed and stand up. The bones in my chest ache.
3. cartoon animals fight power, prejudice, and greed. and also they win
The credits roll as people pick up their things and start leaving the theater. My friend and I remain sitting as the room empties, because we are reading the names of everyone who worked on the movie. Zeng. Matsuda. Garcia. Kim. Ramirez. Lusinsky. Kallianpur.
Zootopia 2 features two main problems. The first is the wealthy, power-hungry family who ostracized entire species from the land and use their influence to control the city government, police force, and media. The second is the relational conflict between our protagonists, and how their personal flaws and struggles hinder them as they seek justice.
I watched a blue viper display unwavering hope, a wild hog in uniform hesitate to shoot, a bunny willing to sacrifice herself for the good of others, and a fox who wants to run away from it all.
Sitting there beneath dimmed lights, the celebratory ending of a children’s movie still fresh in my mind, I feel a heaviness pulling me into the faux leather seats. We sit there even after the screen goes dark and the only sound in the room is an employee sweeping popcorn from the floor.
4. the skin dream
When I finally fall asleep, I dream that I’m standing in front of a mirror. The skin that covers my décolletage has turned dark gray. I look down and notice two parallel ridges that run down my sternum, each point on the ridge a sickly red. I look back in the mirror, and now the entire area is black and reptilian, patterned by red ridges and small yellow horns. Grasping the leathery edges, I lift it off my chest, only to find that it is still attached to me at the jugular notch, by a thin strip of my human skin. I put it back onto myself. It’s hefty.
5. bread in the evening
It’s 10:30PM and my roommate has just baked salted bread. Butter pools onto the tray as she lifts each roll and places them on a plate. I bite into its soft, warm body and taste a tinge of sweetness.
Today is the coldest day of the month (feels like -32, my weather app warns). I feel a chill in my body that has lasted all morning and afternoon and evening, despite wearing three layers and staying indoors. I feel fatigue from being fatigued. But swallowing this pillowy roll brings warmth into me, like a butter-yellow light has found it’s way into my center. My roommate evaluates her creation, commenting on the flavor, the texture, and the lack of flakiness. To me it tastes like love.
6. I make a call
I’ve written about Bulosan’s short story “Be American”2 before, and even though I read it a few years ago the story still resides in my heart and mind. I’ve been feeling very American lately, and I wish I could write something like Bulosan’s story. I wish I had the wisdom to know what to say and how to say it. I wish I would act, not hesitate. I wish I could do more than just endure. I wish I wish I wish I wish—
In the morning, beneath the light that turns my room gray, I get out of bed and wash the exhaustion from my eyes. I sit down and re-read Proverbs 24, Saying 25. Then I pull up the numbers of my state senators and start dialing.3
I haven’t been able to spend much time writing fiction this month. I’ve been busy drying my eyes out working on my job application and consuming the news.
Read more about T cells: https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/body/24630-t-cells
Does calling senators do anything? Perhaps so.