Day four

Day four
01012012

15.44

A big day today, as mum could eat solid foods again. Her first younger sister, who lives in the south, expedited some fresh fish last night and it arrived this morning, and my auntie (mum's second younger sister) made fresh soup out of it. This fish, the "seven star bass" (because on its head, there are seven dots that look like stars), is reputed to have healing abilities, and best for people who have just come out surgery on account of the fish's high protein content.  I was so pleased when she drank two bowls of fish soup, a bit of rice and vegetables, for the nurse did say that eating solid foods will do her much good and restore her energy levels.

Despite attempts to keep "fans" (eager visitors) at bay, mim's cousin came by, and so did her youngest brother (my uncle, whose family is in Vancouver), and the wife of mum's second brother. So almost all morning she was occupied, which in a way is good, as other than listening to classical music and looking at random pictures on my screensaver, I was out of ideas (for now...) how I could entertain her. But I also feared, especially as it's only the fourth day after the surgery, that having too many visitors may be too strenuous for her.

In the afternoon, after much goading, my uncle and I managed to sit her in a wheelchair and take her for a spin. I chose a fancy wheelchair, with suspensions, a seat belt and even the ability to recline, and out of the ward we went. Just a little walk, lasting around half an hour or so, but it was mum's first time out of the ward (except for yesterday when she went for an X-ray scan...) since she as admitted on almost a week ago. She looked happy, and said it felt good to breathe fresh air, especially as the air circulation is limited inside the room she shares with another patient. We were all surprised that mum could sit up for over half an hour, and we need to do this again and again so she gets used to the next brace and holding her head up straight.

Mum also had her first experience using the "mobile toilet" (a chair on wheels with a large hole where the seat is). She needs assistance sitting up and standing up, but other than that her feet are strong and stable enough for her to take little steps and for her to move about a little.

Little steps, everyday more, on the long road to recovery...

19.32

Something occurred to me today.

I was supposed to help a lady visit the doctors as part of my  volunteering I began recently on the 28th of December. Instead, I went into hospital to see my mum at around the same time I was scheduled to meet my patient. instead of helping a stranger and aiding her with her visit, maybe even holding her while she walked, I am doing that for mum.

Both experiences bring me much joy and fulfilment, but being able to help mum and make mum feel safe and comfortable of course gives me so much more...


23.47

I was half awake, half asleep, drifting in that dream-like state of consciousness.

"Weiwei... Weiwei..."

Was I dreaming? No, I opened my eyes and really did hear my name.  Mum's voice has gotten very weak after the surgery, and it'll take a few weeks for her to regain her voice again.

She needed to go to the washroom, urgently. I rushed to get the bedpan, for there was no time for her to get up and use the "mobile toilet" (which is a chair on wheels with a hole where the seat is).

Mum was very apologetic. I quickly slide the bedpan under her and she removed her pants. I went behind the curtain to give her some privacy.

A few minutes later, I went back into the room. Again, mum was very apologetic, and asked me to get new pants and a fresh "centre piece" that is placed on the mattress under the the area around the groin and buttocks. Mum had wet her bed.

She was so embarrassed, despite the fact that I repeatedly told her not to be. "It's all very normal functions of the human body, don't be ashamed of it!" I thought about the times when I must have wet my bed, and when mum had to clean up after me. I told her to lean to the side so I could inspect the bed. Luckily, only the "centre piece" and part of her pants got wet, and all that could be changed quickly.

"Don't think too much of it, mum. You tell me whenever you need to go [to the washroom]. Don't hold anything in." I meant it. Why should anyone be embarrassed about needing to poo or to pee? Why should it so shameful to have to clean it up afterwards? I guess part of the reason is the loss of autonomy, and perhaps te shame that mum feels that she is dependent on someone else, on her child in this case, which adds to the sense of regret and embarrassment.

Mum said she was weak after the entire episode. For the past few days, ever since the surgery, she was connected to a catheter, but that was removed this morning. And I imagine it takes so getting used to and it's a matter of regaining control of the bladder and urinary muscles.

"Think nothing of it... Get to sleep," I said softly as I kissed her hand. She stroked my hair and smiled and thanked me...