Eve of the surgery

I rushed home to quickly shower and grab some things after the doctor explained to us the procedure tomorrow. I didn't really need to go home, but there were two things I wanted to do.

I got home, and knelt before dad's portrait. "Please dad, protect mum and help her surgery to go smoothly tomorrow... May she eat and drink away, may she at least enjoy some of the privileges of living by being able to taste, to digest food naturally... May she have strength again and may she have the health to live a life of happiness..." I knelt on the floor, and kowtowed with great reverence. Tears were on the rim of my eyes. It was a touching moment of just me and dad, and my prayers...

I also prayed before the little shrine mum has set up in the dining/living room area. A thought came to me out of nowhere, again the random imagination of a naive child who daydreams in order to escape from reality at times. I thought to my self and asked the deity: " if I have accumulated any good merit points in all my life, I would cash it all in and direct all the positive karma to mum in the hope that the surgery will go well, and that she will be free from her problem of not being able to eat or drink. Take my good fortunes away, take anything from me, just let mum come out alright..."

Before I left home, I did the second thing I went home to do. I grabbed the most recent family portrait, of me on the left, brother in the middle, and his wife on the right. In the foreground is mum sitting down and holding my little nephew. Our first family portrait together. "We are family..." I once commented it the portrait. We are family, and we can grow strong, be strong together, no matter what. I took that portrait, and it is now standing at an angle where mum can see from her lying down position.

Anything, anything, absolutely anything to keep the hopes up, to keep the spirit afloat and mind at ease. As I headed back to the hospital, I sat quietly in the taxi. The scenery outside was a complete blur. All I could see and imagine were scenes of "this time tomorrow"... Will mum be conscious? Will she be in the intensive care unit? Will the procedure have gone as planned? Will the doctor come out and say to me "I'm sorry, we did the best we could..."? I was again so afraid; so anxious, such a nervous wreck...

Before sleeping, I meditated a bit in front of mum. For a few moments, I places my hand on mum's belly, ad imagined... That inside, it is not so bad... that tomorrow, the doctor will open her up and easily do the procedures they had planned... That they will be able to stitch mum ip again and that the condition will be stable for some time at least...

Pray, pray, pray...