There are on this planet numerous things into which we can dig deep. Once you like something, you will try to learn more about it. Once you learn more about it, you will love it. Once you love it, you try to be expert in it. Once you become an expert or seem to be an expert, you will be addicted to it.

Perfume is one of my addictions. (Coffee is another.) I am not an expert in perfumes but at least I know more than the others. I start wearing perfumes in my senior year of undergraduate. My room-mate had a bottle of Xeryus of Givenchy. He put on some in those formal or important occasions. He did so because he respected the occasions and the participants in the occasions. He splashed some on me when I took graduation photos. Since then, I have been studying perfumes.

I found this book called "Perfumes - The Guide" accidentally in Dymocks. This book is written by two persons: Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez. Luca Turin is an expert in olfactory science. He knows everything about scents. Like citrus scents, he writes in his another book "The Secret of Scent" that natural citrus scents are unstable and therefore all the citrus scents in nowadays detergents are synthetic materials. When I opened the book in the bookstore, I found that this was actually a complete guide to all the perfumes in this world. I could not stop flip over it until I found all the perfumes I had once bought. I studied the book for more than half an hour and finally felt so embarrassed that I had to buy it.

Although I do not quite agree with all the evaluation of Mr Turin (I find his taste of perfume is a little bit old-fashioned), I still find the book useful. I knew that there were first note, basenote and drydown of a perfume. But this is the first time I can have a complete guide of the first notes, the basenotes and the drydowns of all the perfumes. According to Mr Turin, a good perfume should give us various sensations through the first note, the basenote and the drydown. This is what I may not agree with him. Some perfumes nowadays combine the three notes together and only give people one kind of sensation. Anyway, this book can really be a guide of perfumes.

My Dad paid me a visit with two sets of breakfast in hand this morning. I was shocked.

Since I told my parents that I would have an operation on the bones of my nose, they explicitly showed their fright about the surgery. My Mom was still alright. My Dad (I don't know why.) was scared to death. Last time when he did the surgery of the vocal chord, he informed every friend and relatives in town or abroad that he needed to do a surgery. These friends and relatives rang my Mom up and asked for the details since my Dad sounded as if he would soon be gone. Before my rhinoplasty, I told my Dad several times so that he would be well prepared for my operation. He asked me again and again whether I really needed to do the surgery or not. He did not know how my nose allergy affected me. My nose was not in good condition at all times. There would be one big allergy once a year. When I went to Shanghai, my nose kept running non-stop for days. When I went to Beijing, not only would I have running nose but also a serious headache. When my otorhinolaryngologist suggested this rhinoplasty, I agreed on the proposal immediately.

I think this is a kind of generation gap. For my Dad, going to hospital means that he will lose some of his body parts and he needs not only energy but courage to recover. For me, going to hospital means that I will sacrifice whatever I have to provide myself a better future. This is why when I saw the bone fragments of my turbinate and nose septum I thought for a moment. I had thought I could say goodbye to any detached parts of my body easily. Chinese used to say all body, hair and skin are provided by our parents. Therefore losing any one part of them is a kind of offense to our parents. Now, I chose to cut these two parts away from my body. I showed my parents the bone fragments but I did not know what they were thinking. Mom and Dad showed their concern about me explicitly during the operation. They came to accompany me alternately. Every time they brought along with them some food and a small bottle of soup. Soup in Southern China is a kind of essence of affection. One after another bottle of soup did provide me energy and courage to recover.

My Dad paid me a visit this morning with two sets of breakfast in hand. When I saw my Dad, I was shocked but a kind of sweetness rippled over my body. The breakfast he brought me included eggs, sausages, baguette and coffee. Someone have advised me not to have eggs after the surgery. I had porridge and cornflakes in my cupboard. I thought they should be healthier. The baguette was too hard for me as the upper part of my mouth was still a little bit swollen. It hurt me every time I bit into the baguette. I had a coffee grinder and an espresso machine. I could make myself better coffee. No matter what, I finished the breakfast finding one mouthful more delicious than another. Most important of all, I did something I had not done for long. I sat quietly listening to my Dad's preaching for more than half an hour without talking back.

PS: Dear Mom and Dad, I'm sorry I haven't asked you before I decided to cut off the nasal septum and the turbinate of my nose. I know that they were what you gave me when I was born to this world. I have to admit that they are second-rated. But this was not your fault. Not at all. All the other parts of my body are of first-classed. I could not have dreamed of this set of wonderful body parts in my prenatal life. I promise that I will keep them in good shape and I will make good use of them for the rest of my life. Thank you for having brought me to this world, having given me all these physical parts, having nurtured me with all the best in this world and having taught me how to use the wisdom to be a person with integrity. Thank you. Yours forever and ever, Son.

I rise earlier today, cautiously wash my hair and body. (I am still stuffed with two pads of bandage in the nostrils.) Being dirty seems to be the license of a patient in the hospital. But I cannot stand the situation of my reflection in the mirror. I insist on going through as many parts of cleansing rituals as possible. I also spray some fragrance on myself although I smell nothing. As long as I am still conscious, I need to have some dignity as a human being.

I am extraordinarily excited this morning. (Whether I should use the term "extraordinarily" is rather controversial as I am now in an extraordinary situation.) My otorhinolaryngologist will come to see me, get rid of the pads inside my nostrils and announce that I can leave the hospital. This is a piece of great news although I understand I still have to cleanse my nostrils half an hour and cover my nose with bandage in case the fluids run down from my nostrils. This means that I can go wherever I like and do whatever I like. No one care and need to care whether I am lying on my bed resting. When I wake up, the bandage covering my nose may be full of dirty fluids. But this is my own private business again. There are no needs for me to share these dirty details with the nurses, the ward-mates and other irrelevant people. My life is controlled in my own hands again. This is dignity.

Will I miss the ward? Perhaps. I have no ideas. These five days are a short period of vacation in my life. But right now, I expect to celebrate my freedom. Nothing worse than the days waiting for the coming of the night, waiting for the sunrise, waiting for the doctor, waiting for something to happen. Among all, the waiting I am now doing is the most meaningful; that is, waiting for the freedom I deserve.