Day 21

21 days
Already 21 days since I returned to Taiwan, 21 days since I began shuttling between home and the hospital on a daily basis (some days, especially in the beginning, I wouldn't  even go home...). And this morning I went to sign forms for mum to be discharged and pay the rest of the remaining bill. Again, with her national ID card and health insurance card, it felt so bizarre, so strange, that I seem to have somehow become the administrator of her affairs. And she is still alive...

For mum, it has been about 23 days in total that she has spent at the hospital. A gruellingly long time, she said. At times, she felt so depressed and down that she is bed-bound, plus the added pain and discomfort from the surgery, that she expressed to me she wanted to take her own life...  Difficult, difficult times, times when I had to close my eyes and breathe deeply because I did not have an outlet to vent my frustrations, because there was no one I could turn to to express the pain, the sense of helplessness I felt...

At times, I felt like just dropping it all and turning away, because it was, and it got, too much...   But at least those days of running back and forth between the hospital and home are over, for now. Yes, it has been a very tiring and very testing three weeks, and now she can finally return home, and be in the comfort of her home. At least for the lunar new year period.

As I packed her bags, and filled up the suitcase (the same one I used to fly half way across the world with, three weeks ago...) she sat there and thanked me emotionally. "If it weren't for you..." I cut her off before she could finish and smiled, "Brother and your grandchild were here too." I did a lot, yes, but I did only what I could, only because I could, nothing more, nothing less.

I walked to the nurses' station by myself and took out one of the few gifts I had with me this time, a box of assorted Swiss chocolates.  "What's this for?" the head nurse asked, surprised.

"For you all... A little thank. You have all been so kind and caring."  I know it's their job to care about patients, to be patient with patients, but many of them go the extra mile to joke, to encourage, to give my mum a pat on her arm. In ways, they take away a part of the burden off of my shoulder and make sure that mum does not stray from the slow path to recovery.

"Thank you all again for everything..." My eyes became moist.