Fall asleep to the sound of vomit... wake up to the sound of vomit... How painful it is to see mum bend over the toilet bowl, cowering in the corner of the bathroom like a thin, malnourished little girl, with a tear in the corner of her eye. What a harrowing, haunting sight...
A series of appointments planned for the coming week, but can she wait any longer? How long can a human being go without properly eating? Two weeks and counting since she started vomiting severely, and still we do not know what exactly is the cause or how to treat it... These two weeks have been excruciating, painful, nightmarish. And those are just the adjectives I can find to describe how I feel as an onlooker, as someone who can only hand mum a tissue or a cup of water after every single vomiting session...
09 March 2012
Followup
Seized with fear and dread, I could feel my emotions and tears threaten to emerge.
More treatment, more chemo... How much more can mum take? How much more...?
I
More treatment, more chemo... How much more can mum take? How much more...?
I
3.21AM
Can't sleep... So tired, but sleepless.
Every so often, as I lie here on my bed on the floor, I hear mum in her bedroom. The rustling of a plastic bag, the flushing of the toilet. It fills me with dread that she is throwing up again, and makes me get up and rush to her room to check on her.
Need to get up in four hours or so for a doctor's appointment on the other side of town.
Can't sleep, but I need to. We, as in mum and I, both need to...
Can't sleep, but I need to. We, as in mum and I, both need to...
Fortune
There is an ancient text called Yi-Ching (the Book of Changes) which great visionaries and philosophers, like Confucius himself, used to predict... changes. Wars, disease, the rise and fall of empires and dynasties have been accurately portrayed by the text, which is often used in Taiwan as a means of fortune telling.
Superstition or myth, there are many who find comfort in predictions made by fortunetellers, and my mum is one of them. The other day I looked at her calendar and noticed she had an appointment planned I had no knowledge of. When I asked, she told me it was with the fortuneteller she has visited for almost two decades.
You can dissect everything that follows with a dose of suspicion or dismiss it all as a con. As soon as we entered, the man recognised mum and said he "saw" her a couple of days ago. He somehow remembered that mum has a problem in her intestines, and my brother lives in the Netherlands.
He began performing his art, tossed an amulet of some sort which had three ancient coins attached to the end into the air three times. Each time, the coins displayed a different pattern whenever they fell on the table, and he noted the patterns with a series of lines and dots.
"Ah..." he began. The fortuneteller spoke about mum's health, and how especially her upper portion (the head area) is very weak. "Too many thoughts and worries," he pointed out. He suggested mum get a brain scan, because there may be something wrong there. When I heard that, I thought about what the neurosurgeon who performed mum's CyberKnife treatment mentioned some weeks ago, about possible spreading to section C2, which is just below the lower part of the brain. Till now, mum has been reluctant to receive treatment, which the doctor recommends as preventative. If the suspected spread is indeed cancerous erosion of that part of the spine, it may be a matter of time till the cancer spreads to the brain...
The fortuneteller continued reading mum's future. "You should do what the doctor tells you. If he recommends surgery, then do it." What was not clear was whether he was referring to the spinal surgery, which mum has already undergone, or the follow-up CyberKnife treatment, which technically is not a "surgery" per se.
From the series of lines and dots he drew, the fortune teller wrote down a number of Chinese characters, all of which originate from The Book of Changes. Each stroke, each line represents a symbol, a character, which can be deciphered to elaborate or predict a narrative of events in the Universe, or in the life of a person based on the person's exact time, date, month and year of birth.
"There are many things on your mind. You worry too much!" he said. What worry, I have always wondered. What is it that makes mum look so glum and so depressed every single day? Nothing seems to make her feel good, nothing seems to cheer her up. Of course, being ill, being unable to eat and unable to sleep well has a heavy toll on your physical and mental state of wellbeing. But I have long suspected that there is something on mum's mind that she is not sharing with me. And if not with me, then she almost definitely will not share with any one else.
"You are too concerned with dying!" I looked at mum as he said that, and there was an expression of surprise on her face. Surprise, because she was so surprised that he spoke her mind. "Don't think too much about when you will go [euphemism for die]! This is something people have told you so many times, but you do not listen. Live happily! If you are really going to die tonight, as long as you are happy during the day, then at least you have lived happily!"
For a long time I thought mum has made peace with death, but apparently she has not. We have on several occasions had heart-to-heart talks about dying. I was always under the impression that with the teachings of Buddhism and books that align her bookshelf which deal with illness and death, she is able to face it all with calm and acceptance. But it seems death has been occupying mum's mind for a long time, and is weighing her down. I suspected it, but it never dawned on me how heavy a burden dying is on her mind... Is it every waking moment she thinks or worries about dying, or as she put it, her "flame fading"? Does she sit there in her chair and allow her mind and thoughts to drift to dying... when she will die, how she will die, how alone she may be when she does die, how painful and lonesome that moment of dying will be...?
Perhaps my greatest worry is mum's mental wellbeing, for if her mind is not well, how can her body ever get well? And more and more, I notice mum slide gradually into depression and withdraw from the world. That is a worrying phenomenon, something I can hope pray will change soon. Perhaps with the encouragements and warnings of the fortuneteller, mum will wake up and really start living, and stop worrying.
"What have you got to worry about? Your children are doing well. The more you worry, the less your health will improve. Stop worrying!" Mum looked a bit less troubled, and it seemed like her fears and worries were addressed by the man's words. She turned the conversation a little towards me, and asked about my career prospects.
The fortuneteller told me to to randomly flip through a little calendar and stop at three different dates. As I flipped through the calendar, he told me to quietly think about my career and where I want to be.
He noted the dates, and drew another set of strokes and dots.
"You have nothing to worry about your son," he said. He wrote down a number of words, then drew a trough-and-peak diagram, and at the very bottom of a trough he marked a dot. "This is where he is now. Things can't get any worse. He is stalled and cannot progress. But look, things can only get better! He will have a very successful career. You have nothing to worry about."
I looked at mum, with a look of "See, nothing to worry about! I told you so!" Prior to making this prediction, I told the guy nothing at all about myself or my life. He does not even know my name. And I doubt my mum called him up beforehand to tell him things about me or my life. Believe it or not, superstition or otherwise, I was surprised by the accuracy of how he described my life now.
I really am in a deep "recession" (perhaps worse than the economic crisis in the Euro-zone), and things cannot get any worse. My studies have stalled, my career prospects seem, well, there are no prospects to speak of at the moment. Much of this is due to my preoccupation with mum's declining health. I am not blaming her or circumstances, for this is my life, this is my fate, and I am, and have only ever been, trying to make the best of it all. It really is not because I like being in-between and staying at home doing nothing constructive. I have ambitions, I know I can do something with my life, I know I can contribute to this world and make it a little bit better. I know I can make a difference, and I want to make a difference. But now the only difference I can make is in mum's life, and that is what I have been focusing on more or less for the past couple of years. My own life, my own future... I know I should be more concerned and think more about what I want, but I really have put my own life in the background.
And I know, I have been telling myself things can only get better. The fortuneteller continued: "He will have lots of success. Things may be slow, he may not have much in the beginning. He will have to work hard and sow, but soon he will reap the benefits. Nothing to worry about."
For some reason, when he said that, I thought about the law exams I am aiming to complete. (In fact, just yesterday I registered for an exam due this coming May. Whether I will actually be able to sit it is another issue. But at least I am making steps to make it happen...) Qualifying for the bar has been on my mind for a while, and I promised myself last year when I began that in the immediate future, they are my priorities. It will be a long road ahead, I know. But when I think of it, what have I not accomplished when I set my mind to something? And even if it is a difficult road ahead, is anything as difficult as facing the illness of loved ones, and dealing with what I have been dealing with for so many years now? I want to qualify as a lawyer. I will qualify as a lawyer!
"This guy, his future is outside the country! What can he do here in Taiwan? He is best going abroad!" In a way, I have been curious myself whether I should be with mum and relocate. In a way, I am myself afraid of making a "wrong" decision and fear that if I give up everything and come back here, I will be miserable and live with great regret. In a way, I wanted to know too what is best for me. And inadvertently, without me asking, he told me the answer. I was relieved, because it was an answer I myself wanted to hear, an answer I myself feel so strongly drawn to, even though I have contemplated again and again whether I can, whether I should make that ultimate "sacrifice" (though that words sounds too grandiose and pompous... for doing something for someone you love and care about dearly, especially your parent, cannot really be called sacrifice, can it?) and relocate just to be with mum. Now I have my "answer". One that is settling and reassuring. Of course, this does not mean I can leave mum this time tomorrow, and I will not do that. I will still care, I will still come back to visit her whenever it is necessary. What the fortuneteller said gave me a sure sign, a confirmation from outside, that it is OK to go pursue your own life and ambitions, something I have always feared conflicts with my 'obligations' (again, another laden word that I am using for lack of a better one I can think of...) toward my own mother...
"With the way he treats you with love and devotion, the ancestors will watch over him..." I was so touched by his words, I had to hold back my tears. Can it be possible, that you are touched by the things that you do for others? Is it an unhealthy boost of self-ego to be touched by how someone praises you about what you do for your mother? I have never really asked for the ancestors for much, except to watch over my family, watch over mum's health. And it is reassuring to know they are with me, and watching over me always. It gave me a real boost of confidence, told me I could really go do anything and not be afraid. It filled me with such faith, such courage.
The conversation turned back to mum. "You have to get out more and move. Even for ten minutes a day, you still have to get out and move," the fortuneteller said. He warned her, the less she moves, the more she will lose mobility in her legs. That prospect was very difficult to digest, so I asked whether that is a certainty or just a possibility. "If you exercise more, you do not need to come to that. Get out more!"
"What about going abroad?" I asked, mindful that my own graduation is in June, and that it has always been a beautiful dream of mine to bring my family together in Canada to attend my graduation. "She is in no condition to travel far. An hour or so on the plane is alright, but how many hours is it to Canada?" Too many... I had feared this. Seeing mum's health deteriorate so rapidly over the span of the past month has greatly disheartened my hopes that she can make it to Canada to be at the day that perhaps matters the most in my entire academic life... I even have been thinking of coming back to fetch mum just to make sure she will be alright on the long, long crossing around the world. But the fortuneteller's words dashed my hopes... I know, there may still be hope yet, and mum may still recover her strength between now and June, in three months' time. But what was said disappointed greatly...
He continued prophesising about mum's life in the coming period "In the lunar month of July, you may even have difficulty standing up. September and December are going to be difficult months," he warned, again meaning the lunar months, which is around October and January of next year in the western calendar, "You have to be careful with your health." I made a mental note of those months.
"Just be happy! Don't worry too much about everything else. Get out more! Really, just be happy! Nothing else is important." With those words, our consultation ended.
Mum and I walked slowly away. Fortunetelling may not be able to provide all the answers. It may not necessary be the tell you all you want to hear and how to live your life. But in desperate times, they do provide a source of comfort and hope.
Superstition or myth, there are many who find comfort in predictions made by fortunetellers, and my mum is one of them. The other day I looked at her calendar and noticed she had an appointment planned I had no knowledge of. When I asked, she told me it was with the fortuneteller she has visited for almost two decades.
You can dissect everything that follows with a dose of suspicion or dismiss it all as a con. As soon as we entered, the man recognised mum and said he "saw" her a couple of days ago. He somehow remembered that mum has a problem in her intestines, and my brother lives in the Netherlands.
He began performing his art, tossed an amulet of some sort which had three ancient coins attached to the end into the air three times. Each time, the coins displayed a different pattern whenever they fell on the table, and he noted the patterns with a series of lines and dots.
"Ah..." he began. The fortuneteller spoke about mum's health, and how especially her upper portion (the head area) is very weak. "Too many thoughts and worries," he pointed out. He suggested mum get a brain scan, because there may be something wrong there. When I heard that, I thought about what the neurosurgeon who performed mum's CyberKnife treatment mentioned some weeks ago, about possible spreading to section C2, which is just below the lower part of the brain. Till now, mum has been reluctant to receive treatment, which the doctor recommends as preventative. If the suspected spread is indeed cancerous erosion of that part of the spine, it may be a matter of time till the cancer spreads to the brain...
The fortuneteller continued reading mum's future. "You should do what the doctor tells you. If he recommends surgery, then do it." What was not clear was whether he was referring to the spinal surgery, which mum has already undergone, or the follow-up CyberKnife treatment, which technically is not a "surgery" per se.
From the series of lines and dots he drew, the fortune teller wrote down a number of Chinese characters, all of which originate from The Book of Changes. Each stroke, each line represents a symbol, a character, which can be deciphered to elaborate or predict a narrative of events in the Universe, or in the life of a person based on the person's exact time, date, month and year of birth.
"There are many things on your mind. You worry too much!" he said. What worry, I have always wondered. What is it that makes mum look so glum and so depressed every single day? Nothing seems to make her feel good, nothing seems to cheer her up. Of course, being ill, being unable to eat and unable to sleep well has a heavy toll on your physical and mental state of wellbeing. But I have long suspected that there is something on mum's mind that she is not sharing with me. And if not with me, then she almost definitely will not share with any one else.
"You are too concerned with dying!" I looked at mum as he said that, and there was an expression of surprise on her face. Surprise, because she was so surprised that he spoke her mind. "Don't think too much about when you will go [euphemism for die]! This is something people have told you so many times, but you do not listen. Live happily! If you are really going to die tonight, as long as you are happy during the day, then at least you have lived happily!"
For a long time I thought mum has made peace with death, but apparently she has not. We have on several occasions had heart-to-heart talks about dying. I was always under the impression that with the teachings of Buddhism and books that align her bookshelf which deal with illness and death, she is able to face it all with calm and acceptance. But it seems death has been occupying mum's mind for a long time, and is weighing her down. I suspected it, but it never dawned on me how heavy a burden dying is on her mind... Is it every waking moment she thinks or worries about dying, or as she put it, her "flame fading"? Does she sit there in her chair and allow her mind and thoughts to drift to dying... when she will die, how she will die, how alone she may be when she does die, how painful and lonesome that moment of dying will be...?
Perhaps my greatest worry is mum's mental wellbeing, for if her mind is not well, how can her body ever get well? And more and more, I notice mum slide gradually into depression and withdraw from the world. That is a worrying phenomenon, something I can hope pray will change soon. Perhaps with the encouragements and warnings of the fortuneteller, mum will wake up and really start living, and stop worrying.
"What have you got to worry about? Your children are doing well. The more you worry, the less your health will improve. Stop worrying!" Mum looked a bit less troubled, and it seemed like her fears and worries were addressed by the man's words. She turned the conversation a little towards me, and asked about my career prospects.
The fortuneteller told me to to randomly flip through a little calendar and stop at three different dates. As I flipped through the calendar, he told me to quietly think about my career and where I want to be.
He noted the dates, and drew another set of strokes and dots.
"You have nothing to worry about your son," he said. He wrote down a number of words, then drew a trough-and-peak diagram, and at the very bottom of a trough he marked a dot. "This is where he is now. Things can't get any worse. He is stalled and cannot progress. But look, things can only get better! He will have a very successful career. You have nothing to worry about."
I looked at mum, with a look of "See, nothing to worry about! I told you so!" Prior to making this prediction, I told the guy nothing at all about myself or my life. He does not even know my name. And I doubt my mum called him up beforehand to tell him things about me or my life. Believe it or not, superstition or otherwise, I was surprised by the accuracy of how he described my life now.
I really am in a deep "recession" (perhaps worse than the economic crisis in the Euro-zone), and things cannot get any worse. My studies have stalled, my career prospects seem, well, there are no prospects to speak of at the moment. Much of this is due to my preoccupation with mum's declining health. I am not blaming her or circumstances, for this is my life, this is my fate, and I am, and have only ever been, trying to make the best of it all. It really is not because I like being in-between and staying at home doing nothing constructive. I have ambitions, I know I can do something with my life, I know I can contribute to this world and make it a little bit better. I know I can make a difference, and I want to make a difference. But now the only difference I can make is in mum's life, and that is what I have been focusing on more or less for the past couple of years. My own life, my own future... I know I should be more concerned and think more about what I want, but I really have put my own life in the background.
And I know, I have been telling myself things can only get better. The fortuneteller continued: "He will have lots of success. Things may be slow, he may not have much in the beginning. He will have to work hard and sow, but soon he will reap the benefits. Nothing to worry about."
For some reason, when he said that, I thought about the law exams I am aiming to complete. (In fact, just yesterday I registered for an exam due this coming May. Whether I will actually be able to sit it is another issue. But at least I am making steps to make it happen...) Qualifying for the bar has been on my mind for a while, and I promised myself last year when I began that in the immediate future, they are my priorities. It will be a long road ahead, I know. But when I think of it, what have I not accomplished when I set my mind to something? And even if it is a difficult road ahead, is anything as difficult as facing the illness of loved ones, and dealing with what I have been dealing with for so many years now? I want to qualify as a lawyer. I will qualify as a lawyer!
"This guy, his future is outside the country! What can he do here in Taiwan? He is best going abroad!" In a way, I have been curious myself whether I should be with mum and relocate. In a way, I am myself afraid of making a "wrong" decision and fear that if I give up everything and come back here, I will be miserable and live with great regret. In a way, I wanted to know too what is best for me. And inadvertently, without me asking, he told me the answer. I was relieved, because it was an answer I myself wanted to hear, an answer I myself feel so strongly drawn to, even though I have contemplated again and again whether I can, whether I should make that ultimate "sacrifice" (though that words sounds too grandiose and pompous... for doing something for someone you love and care about dearly, especially your parent, cannot really be called sacrifice, can it?) and relocate just to be with mum. Now I have my "answer". One that is settling and reassuring. Of course, this does not mean I can leave mum this time tomorrow, and I will not do that. I will still care, I will still come back to visit her whenever it is necessary. What the fortuneteller said gave me a sure sign, a confirmation from outside, that it is OK to go pursue your own life and ambitions, something I have always feared conflicts with my 'obligations' (again, another laden word that I am using for lack of a better one I can think of...) toward my own mother...
"With the way he treats you with love and devotion, the ancestors will watch over him..." I was so touched by his words, I had to hold back my tears. Can it be possible, that you are touched by the things that you do for others? Is it an unhealthy boost of self-ego to be touched by how someone praises you about what you do for your mother? I have never really asked for the ancestors for much, except to watch over my family, watch over mum's health. And it is reassuring to know they are with me, and watching over me always. It gave me a real boost of confidence, told me I could really go do anything and not be afraid. It filled me with such faith, such courage.
The conversation turned back to mum. "You have to get out more and move. Even for ten minutes a day, you still have to get out and move," the fortuneteller said. He warned her, the less she moves, the more she will lose mobility in her legs. That prospect was very difficult to digest, so I asked whether that is a certainty or just a possibility. "If you exercise more, you do not need to come to that. Get out more!"
"What about going abroad?" I asked, mindful that my own graduation is in June, and that it has always been a beautiful dream of mine to bring my family together in Canada to attend my graduation. "She is in no condition to travel far. An hour or so on the plane is alright, but how many hours is it to Canada?" Too many... I had feared this. Seeing mum's health deteriorate so rapidly over the span of the past month has greatly disheartened my hopes that she can make it to Canada to be at the day that perhaps matters the most in my entire academic life... I even have been thinking of coming back to fetch mum just to make sure she will be alright on the long, long crossing around the world. But the fortuneteller's words dashed my hopes... I know, there may still be hope yet, and mum may still recover her strength between now and June, in three months' time. But what was said disappointed greatly...
He continued prophesising about mum's life in the coming period "In the lunar month of July, you may even have difficulty standing up. September and December are going to be difficult months," he warned, again meaning the lunar months, which is around October and January of next year in the western calendar, "You have to be careful with your health." I made a mental note of those months.
"Just be happy! Don't worry too much about everything else. Get out more! Really, just be happy! Nothing else is important." With those words, our consultation ended.
Mum and I walked slowly away. Fortunetelling may not be able to provide all the answers. It may not necessary be the tell you all you want to hear and how to live your life. But in desperate times, they do provide a source of comfort and hope.
Medical report
I have almost forgotten about it until I opened the package. It was delivered by a courier service called "Maple Leaf", which made me jump to the wrong conclusion it was something from Canada (maybe it was a sign: time to go home...?)
It turned out to be the medical report from my recent medical checkup. Eagerly I opened it to find out the results.
While there is nothing "seriously" wrong with me, there are five, six things I need to be aware of and the report recommended me to make followup appointments with specialists. As expected, my heart beat is unusually slow, measuring at just 54beats a minute, while the normal is anything above 60. While I went to see the cardiologist the day of my physical, he wanted me to wear a heart monitoring device for 24hrs, which would have cost a staggering NT$4000 ($130 or so), so I refused to do it. I don't think there is anything seriously wrong with me, just that I have a weak heart. And I prefer to get checked up if need be back home in Canada, where my medical insurance will cover it (in Taiwan, I have no medical insurance, hence the prohibitive costs!)
My weight is a problem, as I weigh about 10kg below my ideal weight for someone my height and my age. It's a problem I've been battling for a long time, and whatever I eat, even if I eat a lot, I don't seem to weigh more than 62-63kg; historically I don't think I've ever gone over 65kg. Over the past I've definitely shed some "excess" weight, and at one point was close to just 60kg. Stress, severe stress, and being unable to really eat seeing mum so ill and vomiting so much, has to do with it...
It turned out to be the medical report from my recent medical checkup. Eagerly I opened it to find out the results.
While there is nothing "seriously" wrong with me, there are five, six things I need to be aware of and the report recommended me to make followup appointments with specialists. As expected, my heart beat is unusually slow, measuring at just 54beats a minute, while the normal is anything above 60. While I went to see the cardiologist the day of my physical, he wanted me to wear a heart monitoring device for 24hrs, which would have cost a staggering NT$4000 ($130 or so), so I refused to do it. I don't think there is anything seriously wrong with me, just that I have a weak heart. And I prefer to get checked up if need be back home in Canada, where my medical insurance will cover it (in Taiwan, I have no medical insurance, hence the prohibitive costs!)
My weight is a problem, as I weigh about 10kg below my ideal weight for someone my height and my age. It's a problem I've been battling for a long time, and whatever I eat, even if I eat a lot, I don't seem to weigh more than 62-63kg; historically I don't think I've ever gone over 65kg. Over the past I've definitely shed some "excess" weight, and at one point was close to just 60kg. Stress, severe stress, and being unable to really eat seeing mum so ill and vomiting so much, has to do with it...
08 March 2012
Sick
Mum told me a joke today. Was it really a joke? She laughed while she said it, so it must be a joke. She said she has gotten so thin that when she went to the washroom yesterday and pulled up her pants , they immediately fell down again. That was a joke, right? Literally, a sick one.
I told her we have to go buy new clothes, because the likelihood of mum regaining the ten kilos or so she lost over the span of a month or so is slim, at least in the near term, if ever. But she just said she has some clothes from long ago that may still fit.
Not long after that joke, she vomited again. I quickly handed her a 'barf bag', one of many that I now carry with me at all times whenever we go out. Every time I see her throw up, no matter how many times I see it, it affects me so, it hurts me so!
There was a heavy load, again coloured brown from stomach juices. She tried to put it away, but was struggling to do so due to her the deteriorating flexibility of her hand and fingers. So I grabbed the bag from her. It felt warm... Sickeningly warm. I was in the middle of eating a box of sushi I got on the go, and I lost my appetite. What got into me that I started to toy with mum's bag of vomit before I threw it away? I cannot explain a lot of my behaviour and thoughts these days, for they puzzle and baffle me too. Perhaps being so very close to illness, seeing symptoms and signs of it every single day, makes me not flinch any more when I look at vomit or even feel it with my own bare hands. Really, after a while of cleaning up bodily fluids or excrement, nothing seems to shock of disgust you any more. You become numb, it seems. The human body is only so much... only just made up of the food we put in, and the waste that comes out, either through the mouth or the backside. What else is there to all of this?
Or perhaps I am no longer disgusted, because the pain of seeing someone you care about and love so dearly overwhelms any feelings of disgust or discomfort...
I told her we have to go buy new clothes, because the likelihood of mum regaining the ten kilos or so she lost over the span of a month or so is slim, at least in the near term, if ever. But she just said she has some clothes from long ago that may still fit.
Not long after that joke, she vomited again. I quickly handed her a 'barf bag', one of many that I now carry with me at all times whenever we go out. Every time I see her throw up, no matter how many times I see it, it affects me so, it hurts me so!
There was a heavy load, again coloured brown from stomach juices. She tried to put it away, but was struggling to do so due to her the deteriorating flexibility of her hand and fingers. So I grabbed the bag from her. It felt warm... Sickeningly warm. I was in the middle of eating a box of sushi I got on the go, and I lost my appetite. What got into me that I started to toy with mum's bag of vomit before I threw it away? I cannot explain a lot of my behaviour and thoughts these days, for they puzzle and baffle me too. Perhaps being so very close to illness, seeing symptoms and signs of it every single day, makes me not flinch any more when I look at vomit or even feel it with my own bare hands. Really, after a while of cleaning up bodily fluids or excrement, nothing seems to shock of disgust you any more. You become numb, it seems. The human body is only so much... only just made up of the food we put in, and the waste that comes out, either through the mouth or the backside. What else is there to all of this?
Or perhaps I am no longer disgusted, because the pain of seeing someone you care about and love so dearly overwhelms any feelings of disgust or discomfort...
Appointments
Just checked mum's appointments for the coming week, and there are appointments lined up for every single day of the week, actually starting with this Saturday. It depresses me to see that there are so many doctors mum has to go see now. Not just the neurosurgeon, but also a doctor for her stomach, another one for her intestines, and one for her CyberKnife treatment.
I had planned to perhaps use this week to go away, but it looks like I can't. There are just too many important appointments to go to...
No matter. Mum's health and appointments are more important than my own little R&R, right?
Decision, decision
What to do? I came home from an empty run to the consular affairs bureau, disheartened having done nothing to change my length of (legal) stay in the country. Of course I could always just overstay, and pay a fine upon leaving, but that may leave a mark on my records and complicate thing if whenever I come back to taiwan in the future.
What to do? Should I go or should I stay? Can I just leave in two weeks' time and leave with a mind at ease? I have options, and I must choose.
I can leave the country and come back in so I have three more months. I can go back to Canada and come back within a week or two, and stay here for as long as it takes. Or I can return to Canada and return to "pick up" my mum towards the end of May and take her home with me to attend my graduation. These are the options.
I'm just indecisive and scared of making a "wrong" decision, especially with mum's condition still being so unstable at the moment. I really can't decide and rest well, and feel really agitated by the uncertainties of the days ahead... Am I over-complicating and over-thinking things?
Again I hear voices telling me "Stay with your mum, do your duty as a child! Come back here and find a job here!" They mean well, I know, but to the outside it seems like it's the easiest thing to do to just return here and find a job. Doing what? Working with whom? What about working here without a visa? And my whole life, everything I've ever built up in Canada? Abandon that all, put everything on hold and come back to be with mother?
I can do that. Sure I can do that. It has crossed my mind before, for realistically there is nothing in Canada that is keeping me there. Nothing, no one, at all. I really have no attachment whatsoever to that place right now, and my major concern in life is my mum's ailing health.
But am I ready to put everything on hold and be with my mum? I am afraid that one day, I will grow so bitter and angry after everything is over. Old and bitter that I have given my youth and precious years in return for what? Sure, in the culture of my roots, it is a great honour to be able to take care of your parent when they are sick and old, and that is what I have been doing, or trying to do over the past few years by flying back and forth to be with mum during crucial periods of her treatment. But at what point do you say to yourself that you have to live your own life, make plans for your own future, even if in the process you are not fully able to be there for your parent?
I have read about people's lives falling apart once the person they have been taking care of, the person whose illness and eventual demise has overtaken everything in their own lives, has passed away. A friend of mine told me that of her sister, who gave up her studies just to take care of their mother. And in the end, after the mother passed away, the sister was devastated, and her future prospects much delayed, if not ruined. And I am scared of that... so scared that if I should decide to return here to be with my mum, I will grow bitter and angry at her, at the entire situation, at myself for years "lost". What mum needs right now is compassion, kindness and good quality care. Something I know with time, I am unable to provide for her, especially in the long run.
That whole hopeless episode completely forgetting about the date of my return ticket... It again reminds me how I can easily become absorbed in the life of another and forget my own life and my own plans. I can remember all of mum's hospital appointment dates and times, I can (almost completely) recall by heart her treatments and prescribed meds, but I can't even bother recalling my own important date, and therefore a completely good ticket has gone to waste! I really need to pull my act together, get a grip of my own life and live my life instead of always prioritising the life and happenings of other people! Not that I should be selfish and centre everything on me, but I really need to start planning and living my own life better, instead of constantly orbiting around other people's lives...
What to do? Should I go or should I stay? Can I just leave in two weeks' time and leave with a mind at ease? I have options, and I must choose.
I can leave the country and come back in so I have three more months. I can go back to Canada and come back within a week or two, and stay here for as long as it takes. Or I can return to Canada and return to "pick up" my mum towards the end of May and take her home with me to attend my graduation. These are the options.
I'm just indecisive and scared of making a "wrong" decision, especially with mum's condition still being so unstable at the moment. I really can't decide and rest well, and feel really agitated by the uncertainties of the days ahead... Am I over-complicating and over-thinking things?
Again I hear voices telling me "Stay with your mum, do your duty as a child! Come back here and find a job here!" They mean well, I know, but to the outside it seems like it's the easiest thing to do to just return here and find a job. Doing what? Working with whom? What about working here without a visa? And my whole life, everything I've ever built up in Canada? Abandon that all, put everything on hold and come back to be with mother?
I can do that. Sure I can do that. It has crossed my mind before, for realistically there is nothing in Canada that is keeping me there. Nothing, no one, at all. I really have no attachment whatsoever to that place right now, and my major concern in life is my mum's ailing health.
But am I ready to put everything on hold and be with my mum? I am afraid that one day, I will grow so bitter and angry after everything is over. Old and bitter that I have given my youth and precious years in return for what? Sure, in the culture of my roots, it is a great honour to be able to take care of your parent when they are sick and old, and that is what I have been doing, or trying to do over the past few years by flying back and forth to be with mum during crucial periods of her treatment. But at what point do you say to yourself that you have to live your own life, make plans for your own future, even if in the process you are not fully able to be there for your parent?
I have read about people's lives falling apart once the person they have been taking care of, the person whose illness and eventual demise has overtaken everything in their own lives, has passed away. A friend of mine told me that of her sister, who gave up her studies just to take care of their mother. And in the end, after the mother passed away, the sister was devastated, and her future prospects much delayed, if not ruined. And I am scared of that... so scared that if I should decide to return here to be with my mum, I will grow bitter and angry at her, at the entire situation, at myself for years "lost". What mum needs right now is compassion, kindness and good quality care. Something I know with time, I am unable to provide for her, especially in the long run.
That whole hopeless episode completely forgetting about the date of my return ticket... It again reminds me how I can easily become absorbed in the life of another and forget my own life and my own plans. I can remember all of mum's hospital appointment dates and times, I can (almost completely) recall by heart her treatments and prescribed meds, but I can't even bother recalling my own important date, and therefore a completely good ticket has gone to waste! I really need to pull my act together, get a grip of my own life and live my life instead of always prioritising the life and happenings of other people! Not that I should be selfish and centre everything on me, but I really need to start planning and living my own life better, instead of constantly orbiting around other people's lives...
07 March 2012
No to US meat!!
I got to the department of consular
affairs, and was greeted by a gathering crowd of protesters. Pig and
cattle farmers from all over the country gathered to demonstrate their
anger at the government's sudden and sneaky move to lift the ban of US
beef and pork produce-- despite clear evidence that US beef and pork
produce are often contaminated with growth hormones (and in the case of
beef, "mad cow" disease). The ban was lifted in the middle of the night,
when no one was awake to make a fuss, and contrary to promises this
newly installed government made during the elections back in January.
Another sign of what kind of deceptive and ugly regime this is that
would betray the people's trust and jeopardise the public's health and
cave in to pressure from outside influences...
I walked around and watched the protesters a bit. It was a proud moment to witness the protesters marching en masse and chanting slogans and calling for the responsible officials to step down. It was democracy in progress, a freedom that we taiwanese take for granted and are able to exercise freely, unlike many around the world. It was a moment I found so proud to be from this country where we have the freedom to disagree, the freedom to dissent, and not have to fear being thrown in prison for standing up for your beliefs. I only hope these freedoms will thrive and forever be be protected and be a fundamental, unchallenged right of the people of this tiny, but great nation...
I walked around and watched the protesters a bit. It was a proud moment to witness the protesters marching en masse and chanting slogans and calling for the responsible officials to step down. It was democracy in progress, a freedom that we taiwanese take for granted and are able to exercise freely, unlike many around the world. It was a moment I found so proud to be from this country where we have the freedom to disagree, the freedom to dissent, and not have to fear being thrown in prison for standing up for your beliefs. I only hope these freedoms will thrive and forever be be protected and be a fundamental, unchallenged right of the people of this tiny, but great nation...
Ticket wasted
Why the hell did I have the impression that my return ticket was booked for 20 March? I was for some reason so very certain!!!
Just now I checked my ticket with the intention of changing the return ticket date, and noticed I was supposed to fly out 6 March... ie two days ago!!!!!!!!
Ticket has gone to waste completely...
SO ANGRY AT MYSELF....!
Just now I checked my ticket with the intention of changing the return ticket date, and noticed I was supposed to fly out 6 March... ie two days ago!!!!!!!!
Ticket has gone to waste completely...
SO ANGRY AT MYSELF....!
Extension
In two weeks' time, it will be 90 days since I first arrived in
Taiwan. The total number of days I can stay in the country on a
visa-exempt entry is 90 days, which means I either have to leave the
country and come back in again, or apply for an extension.
With mum's condition not getting any better, and a number of decisive doctors' appointments due over the coming weeks, it is not yet time for me to leave. I'm not sure what I'm waiting for in terms of a sign that I can leave. But I only know it's not time yet.
I really
am not in the mood to fly or go anywhere abroad. ( the only travelling I
want to do is fulfil my dream of biking around the island). Really I
get so tired just thinking about going through customs, boarding a plane
and all that nonsense... I never thought this day would come, but I am
so sick of flying. So that leaves only one option.
I applied for a visa extension on one other occasion before, and that was to stay on to arrange dad's funeral. The extension was granted without hassle, on "humanitarian grounds". I have mum's hospital declarations and an accompanying letter in which I detail the reasons why I need to stay on.
I got to the department of consular affairs, and the lady kindly explained to me the most I can apply an extension for is probably only for 30days. And that would cost some NT$2400 ($80), which she thinks is not really worth it. If I were Canadian or a citizen of the UK, an extension of 90 days may be possible. The best option as an EU citizen would be to leave the country and come back in again. "Go to Hong Kong or Macau for a day, and take an evening flight back. You'll get another 90 days of visa."
Great... I perhaps do need to leave the country, even if I don't want to...
With mum's condition not getting any better, and a number of decisive doctors' appointments due over the coming weeks, it is not yet time for me to leave. I'm not sure what I'm waiting for in terms of a sign that I can leave. But I only know it's not time yet.
I really
am not in the mood to fly or go anywhere abroad. ( the only travelling I
want to do is fulfil my dream of biking around the island). Really I
get so tired just thinking about going through customs, boarding a plane
and all that nonsense... I never thought this day would come, but I am
so sick of flying. So that leaves only one option. I applied for a visa extension on one other occasion before, and that was to stay on to arrange dad's funeral. The extension was granted without hassle, on "humanitarian grounds". I have mum's hospital declarations and an accompanying letter in which I detail the reasons why I need to stay on.
I got to the department of consular affairs, and the lady kindly explained to me the most I can apply an extension for is probably only for 30days. And that would cost some NT$2400 ($80), which she thinks is not really worth it. If I were Canadian or a citizen of the UK, an extension of 90 days may be possible. The best option as an EU citizen would be to leave the country and come back in again. "Go to Hong Kong or Macau for a day, and take an evening flight back. You'll get another 90 days of visa."
Great... I perhaps do need to leave the country, even if I don't want to...
So very thin
At times when I look at mum, I am sadly and so terribly reminded of those horrible images of prisoners at concentration camps. Yes, it is a tasteless comparison to make. Of course, mum's ordeal is not the same, and I am not trying to trivialise the immense pain and suffering of so many throughout history. What haunts me is seeing just how thin she has become. And somehow, when you become so thin and malnourished, your cheek bones become all the more prominent, and the teeth tend to protrude out more.
She's become so very thin now, it is heartbreaking (and I myself am not faring much better nowadays...). I cannot really describe that look, that saddening, sordid look... I see it when mum is walking, or straining to walk. Her mouth is a little open, her teeth are revealed. Her eyes look so tired, and yet are perhaps the brightest sign of life of all her facial features. It is the look of someone in pain... the look of someone who has not properly eaten for a long, long time...
Can a pat on the back, or the gentle stroke of mum's arm erase the memory of that look on mum's face?
Can my arm around mum's thin shoulders, or the way I try to massage her sore, sore arms take away her hunger from not having eaten properly...?
I'm sorry, mum...
I know I have said this to you, mum, perhaps far too few times... I know I have upset you, made you angry and frustrated, even though you are already in a lot of discomfort...
I'm sorry mum, so very sorry, if in my own frustrations, in my own anger and moodiness, I was unkind to you, I was not loving or caring enough, or disappointed you so, as a son or as a human being... My anger and moodiness seem to wipe away everything I do for you out of unconditional love, out of my deep, deep care for your physical and mental wellbeing. I only wish you to get better, and never meant to cause you more reason or anguish to make your condition even worse...
Please forgive me, if my words or tone were poorly chosen or chosen in spite... For I am ignorant in dealing with this all, and sometimes very stubborn and want things done my way, and I forget all too easily I am not the one with cancer. I forget all too quickly I am not the one living with constant pain and emotional heaviness...
I really am just trying to do the best I can, even though my 'best' is perhaps sometimes the worst... Please forgive me, mum... I'm very sorry if I have hurt you and caused you more anger, instead of giving you love and soothed your pains and discomforts...
Please forgive me, mum. I truly am sorry...
I'm sorry mum, so very sorry, if in my own frustrations, in my own anger and moodiness, I was unkind to you, I was not loving or caring enough, or disappointed you so, as a son or as a human being... My anger and moodiness seem to wipe away everything I do for you out of unconditional love, out of my deep, deep care for your physical and mental wellbeing. I only wish you to get better, and never meant to cause you more reason or anguish to make your condition even worse...
Please forgive me, if my words or tone were poorly chosen or chosen in spite... For I am ignorant in dealing with this all, and sometimes very stubborn and want things done my way, and I forget all too easily I am not the one with cancer. I forget all too quickly I am not the one living with constant pain and emotional heaviness...
I really am just trying to do the best I can, even though my 'best' is perhaps sometimes the worst... Please forgive me, mum... I'm very sorry if I have hurt you and caused you more anger, instead of giving you love and soothed your pains and discomforts...
Please forgive me, mum. I truly am sorry...
Dearest Dad...
Dearest Dad,
I know it's strange to be writing to you on a blog entry. But it seems nowadays you are the closest to me, even though you are no longer with me. I see you every day, I see you smile and look at me every day...
Dad, do you not see the tears that are falling so heavily now after more than two months of holding them in? Whatever I do, whatever I say, somehow it ends with mum reacting angrily back. Is it her illness talking? Is it her physical discomfort and mental pain that is making her so bitter and so angry? I am forcing her to do thing she does not want, she says, making her even more ill than she already is. Is it really my tone of voice? Is it really my impatience and simmering frustrations that are making me be or sound so very unkind to her? Is it my own inability to finally be confronted with symptoms of her gradual physical decline and imminent demise that I am getting angry and angrier? Why do I become so speechless and so deeply, deeply hurt when mum shouts back at me...? Am I really getting on her nerves, confining her personal space and freedom? All I want to do is help her, make sure she is comfortable and cared for, not cause her more pain or frustrations. But these days, it seems all I cause her is anger and pain...
I know deep
down, mum is hurting too and that she is hurting even much, much more. I cannot
fully appreciate what it feels like to gradually lose the ability to
write or hold chopsticks. I cannot fully comprehend the pain and perhaps
even embarrassment of needing help for the simplest of chores that were
so taken for granted before. I cannot possibly know what it feels like
to live with this vile, disgusting disease growing inside that you
cannot get rid of, and that keeps on growing and spreading. No, I cannot
know how mum is feeling or hurting...
But does it not also pain you to see her sit there, almost all day, every day, and stare into blank space? Does it pain you not to see someone you love and care about more than dear life descend into depression and fringe on self-loathing? I really have tried, dad, tried and try even more to make her feel better, to provide her with nutritious foods and to make her go out more. I would like her to reach out to welfare workers, get a new (second) opinion on her condition, and contemplate the possibilities there are beyond just treatment, treatment, treatment. But I seem more and more unable to move her, and more and more I feel this growing gap descend between us...A gap filled with occasional outbursts or mum just waving her hand and dismissing what I would like to say.
Tell me if I really am being unfair and unkind to mother... let me know if I really am failing in my duty as a son who just wishes his own mother could get better soon, and if not get better then at least feel better. Give me a sign, tell me what I am doing wrong, how perhaps I am failing her, failing you. For I really am so tired and so lost, so tested and so pushed to the limits I am unsure where to turn to, except to you, dad, who has long gone, and who looks down at us with that perpetual smile of yours...
I must be going so insane to resort writing to you, dad... But desperate times calls for...
your son forever,
with love, and tears,
....
Angry, again...
She was sitting in her bed, ready to retire it seemed. It was barely nine at night. I climbed into mum's bed to join her, to have our nightly 'goodnight' routine of a bit of talking. I would lie next to her, roll around a little like a little boy. It's my way of saying to her "I'm still your little boy!" And occasionally, she would reach over to stroke my head. I know, it sounds silly, especially being twenty-eight and a grown adult already...
We got talking, and mum began suddenly saying that perhaps she wants to change house. I was surprised, for it was the first time she mentioned it after the seemingly premature attempt to look for an apartment for her in the central part of the country earlier last month. She somehow came to the conclusion that perhaps it is good for her to leave this house, even though she moved in only around two years ago. It's too small, she says, and the ceilings are too low, making it feel very confined and after a long while oppressive. I was of course glad she came to this conclusion herself, and reassured her if that is her wish, I would do everything I can to help her find a place and help her move. There is nothing more I would like than to make sure she is settled and in a place where she feels comfortable and able to begin a new life, away from the old one.
That got us talking about her life, and her future treatment. I again talked about the cancer welfare foundation I recently paid a visit to and where I spoke to a welfare worker about "alternatives" to just treatment. I have been meaning to take mum there, but she has not shown any interest, and always says she's too "tired". In a way, I think she is afraid to reach out, afraid to go to a place where there are others like her... afraid to step out, which may be understandable as she has been struggling through this on her own, more or less, for the past six years now. But as I have repeatedly told her, I cannot be the sole source of her outlet... I cannot be the only support she has and the only person she confides in, for I cannot handle it alone. We need help, we need help and support from people who can fully empathise with her condition, who can really know what it feels like to be a cancer warrior.
From that conversation, we got onto the topic of changing her main physician, an oncologist. Since her recent surgery, and even before that, he has been quite curt and sometimes even dismissive of my mum whenever she goes to see him. We all think (and I can say almost for certain we know...) it's because he's jealous and bitter that since the discovery of the tumour in her spine, mum has been seeing another doctor, who is a specialist in neurosurgery. His jealousy is evidenced by the fact that last time he outrightly, without even knowing details of her surgery, told mum that her voice won't get better because they damaged her vocal chords during surgery. But her voice is getting better, her voice is in fact almost back to its old self again (though still frail, but that is more due to the fact she has been eating very little of late...). It was this neurosurgeon who mum has come to trust more than her own physician, for he gives her much confidence, and talks to her very frankly about her condition. It was under his advice, and with his oversight, that her spinal surgery was beautifully and successfully performed.
So for over a year, mum has been mulling about changing doctors. But she has not yet done it, because she struggles to find ways to change doctors without feeling "awkward" or hurting the main physician's feelings. What I fail to understand is why mum feels any obligation toward staying with the guy when he has obviously been dismissive of her, and even curt toward her? How does that even make a patient feel confident about getting better or have any trust in the doctor? We found a suitable replacement, but mum has been dragging her feet and hesitating about going to see the possible new oncologist for a second opinion. Mainly because the possible new oncologist is in the same hospital, so he and the old one are colleagues.
I got upset, because we have already been through this over and over again. The old oncologist won't feel a difference whether she is his patient or not. What obligation is there toward him, even having been with him for five, six years, when he is cold and behaving unprofessionally towards the patient? I am so very close to filing a formal complaint against him with the board professional doctors!
I admit, I raised my voice and got frustrated at mum. I pressed her for a reason why she cannot change doctors, but she just closed her eyes, looked away and said "I have my considerations..." I admit, I pressed her for the reasons again, and perhaps that provoked her to lash out "OK! You decide everything! I'm already so tired, and this is making me more tired!" Mum turned away and covered herself with her thick blanket. The last glimpse of her face was one frowning, full of disappointment, anger, remorse. The worst way to send someone to sleep...
I was just trying to help, trying to move beyond an impasse and hopefully get a second and new opinion on her condition and course of treatment... I know mum would never ever do it if it weren't for me pushing for it and asking about possible oncologists we could consult. She has been already waiting and seeing the same oncologist for over a year, even though she already feels uncomfortable going to see him. I really was trying to help, not provoke a crisis and cause mum so much anger and grief...
I was myself filled with such sadness, such a feeling of being misunderstood, such remorse, such deep, deep guilt. Tears threatened to burst out there and then...
I rushed to the kitchen to pick up the heat packs I warmed up for her earlier, and put them on the bed next to mum. In my eyes, large tears were already rolling and threatening to fall. I did not dare to look at mum, walked away and turned off the lights to her bedroom.
For the first time since I arrived home over two months ago, I cried. I really, really cried...
We got talking, and mum began suddenly saying that perhaps she wants to change house. I was surprised, for it was the first time she mentioned it after the seemingly premature attempt to look for an apartment for her in the central part of the country earlier last month. She somehow came to the conclusion that perhaps it is good for her to leave this house, even though she moved in only around two years ago. It's too small, she says, and the ceilings are too low, making it feel very confined and after a long while oppressive. I was of course glad she came to this conclusion herself, and reassured her if that is her wish, I would do everything I can to help her find a place and help her move. There is nothing more I would like than to make sure she is settled and in a place where she feels comfortable and able to begin a new life, away from the old one.
That got us talking about her life, and her future treatment. I again talked about the cancer welfare foundation I recently paid a visit to and where I spoke to a welfare worker about "alternatives" to just treatment. I have been meaning to take mum there, but she has not shown any interest, and always says she's too "tired". In a way, I think she is afraid to reach out, afraid to go to a place where there are others like her... afraid to step out, which may be understandable as she has been struggling through this on her own, more or less, for the past six years now. But as I have repeatedly told her, I cannot be the sole source of her outlet... I cannot be the only support she has and the only person she confides in, for I cannot handle it alone. We need help, we need help and support from people who can fully empathise with her condition, who can really know what it feels like to be a cancer warrior.
From that conversation, we got onto the topic of changing her main physician, an oncologist. Since her recent surgery, and even before that, he has been quite curt and sometimes even dismissive of my mum whenever she goes to see him. We all think (and I can say almost for certain we know...) it's because he's jealous and bitter that since the discovery of the tumour in her spine, mum has been seeing another doctor, who is a specialist in neurosurgery. His jealousy is evidenced by the fact that last time he outrightly, without even knowing details of her surgery, told mum that her voice won't get better because they damaged her vocal chords during surgery. But her voice is getting better, her voice is in fact almost back to its old self again (though still frail, but that is more due to the fact she has been eating very little of late...). It was this neurosurgeon who mum has come to trust more than her own physician, for he gives her much confidence, and talks to her very frankly about her condition. It was under his advice, and with his oversight, that her spinal surgery was beautifully and successfully performed.
So for over a year, mum has been mulling about changing doctors. But she has not yet done it, because she struggles to find ways to change doctors without feeling "awkward" or hurting the main physician's feelings. What I fail to understand is why mum feels any obligation toward staying with the guy when he has obviously been dismissive of her, and even curt toward her? How does that even make a patient feel confident about getting better or have any trust in the doctor? We found a suitable replacement, but mum has been dragging her feet and hesitating about going to see the possible new oncologist for a second opinion. Mainly because the possible new oncologist is in the same hospital, so he and the old one are colleagues.
I got upset, because we have already been through this over and over again. The old oncologist won't feel a difference whether she is his patient or not. What obligation is there toward him, even having been with him for five, six years, when he is cold and behaving unprofessionally towards the patient? I am so very close to filing a formal complaint against him with the board professional doctors!
I admit, I raised my voice and got frustrated at mum. I pressed her for a reason why she cannot change doctors, but she just closed her eyes, looked away and said "I have my considerations..." I admit, I pressed her for the reasons again, and perhaps that provoked her to lash out "OK! You decide everything! I'm already so tired, and this is making me more tired!" Mum turned away and covered herself with her thick blanket. The last glimpse of her face was one frowning, full of disappointment, anger, remorse. The worst way to send someone to sleep...
I was just trying to help, trying to move beyond an impasse and hopefully get a second and new opinion on her condition and course of treatment... I know mum would never ever do it if it weren't for me pushing for it and asking about possible oncologists we could consult. She has been already waiting and seeing the same oncologist for over a year, even though she already feels uncomfortable going to see him. I really was trying to help, not provoke a crisis and cause mum so much anger and grief...
I was myself filled with such sadness, such a feeling of being misunderstood, such remorse, such deep, deep guilt. Tears threatened to burst out there and then...
I rushed to the kitchen to pick up the heat packs I warmed up for her earlier, and put them on the bed next to mum. In my eyes, large tears were already rolling and threatening to fall. I did not dare to look at mum, walked away and turned off the lights to her bedroom.
For the first time since I arrived home over two months ago, I cried. I really, really cried...
Dreaming of the ex
About two weeks ago, just after my ex called me on my birthday, he wrote me a series of emails. As I haven't checked my mail for such a long time, I only realised yesterday that he wrote declaring his true feelings for me, telling me how much he loves me, thinks of me, and how he always thought we are meant to be together...
It was all very touching, and I was moved, even drawn to the idea that perhaps we might have a future together. After all, the two months or so of no/ very little communication made him realise how much I really matter in his life, and he says he lives with a heavy burden of regret now he realises he loves me, has always loved me, and those feelings overshadow everything else...
I was touched, and my over-imaginative mind, which likes to dream and fantasise and paint beautiful pictures of "what may be" started imagining us back together again.. How beautiful that would be! Te chance to reconnect, to really discover what we mean to one another, a chance at a new future free from obstacles and clear of any doubts we have ever had about us being together.
I dreamed last night. My ex came to see me, and I was of course overwhelmed. We laughed and became very intimate very quickly, we connected and had fun like we have always managed to before... The kind of silly fun that only we seem able to have when we are together. At night, I proposed to go to a night market, he said he'd follow soon, and told me to go ahead. I waited and waited and looked out for him in the crowd. But he didn't show up. An hour or two passed, he still didn't show up.
Does he know where I am? I wrote him a text message, but there was no reply. Then my suspicion got the better of me. He is sneaking away to be on the phone, to call his "friend". My suspicion reminded me of what had happened so often in the past... He tells me one thing, says how much he cares about me and loves me, and yet he cannot let go of his friend.
How disappointed I was... What a fool I felt like realising I am perhaps again falling for my ex's sweet-talk, when all he wanted is to keep me as an option while he explored which person was better for his own sake. My intuition and suspicions are like my six sense... Perhaps I am too sensitive, overly sensitive, overly suspicious, but ever since our breakup last year in May, I have just become increasingly distrustful of my ex and do not take for granted what he tells me...
It was just a dream, but it tells me so much! How do I trust him again, if he genuinely feels remorse and regret at letting perhaps the best thing in his life go (or "giving it away" as he put it)? I have been so hurt by his behaviour and his words, especially those on the day of my departure when I last saw him in December, I am not sure what it will take to mend my broken hurt and shattered trust... But then again, the prospect of us getting back together, the possibility of starting fresh, tabula rasa with someone you already feel so much for, know so much about, seems like a beautiful, dream-like fantasy come true! Perhaps the events in our lives since our physical separation did manage to bring us closer together than ever before, did make us realise how much we mean to one another...
I just don't know, and am worried about committing again, because I was so hurt by allowing myself to commit and become so vulnerable, so dependent on one person. That has never happened, and it only happened with him, because he can touch me so, he can really comfort me so... Yet also hurt me so...
It was all very touching, and I was moved, even drawn to the idea that perhaps we might have a future together. After all, the two months or so of no/ very little communication made him realise how much I really matter in his life, and he says he lives with a heavy burden of regret now he realises he loves me, has always loved me, and those feelings overshadow everything else...
I was touched, and my over-imaginative mind, which likes to dream and fantasise and paint beautiful pictures of "what may be" started imagining us back together again.. How beautiful that would be! Te chance to reconnect, to really discover what we mean to one another, a chance at a new future free from obstacles and clear of any doubts we have ever had about us being together.
I dreamed last night. My ex came to see me, and I was of course overwhelmed. We laughed and became very intimate very quickly, we connected and had fun like we have always managed to before... The kind of silly fun that only we seem able to have when we are together. At night, I proposed to go to a night market, he said he'd follow soon, and told me to go ahead. I waited and waited and looked out for him in the crowd. But he didn't show up. An hour or two passed, he still didn't show up.
Does he know where I am? I wrote him a text message, but there was no reply. Then my suspicion got the better of me. He is sneaking away to be on the phone, to call his "friend". My suspicion reminded me of what had happened so often in the past... He tells me one thing, says how much he cares about me and loves me, and yet he cannot let go of his friend.
How disappointed I was... What a fool I felt like realising I am perhaps again falling for my ex's sweet-talk, when all he wanted is to keep me as an option while he explored which person was better for his own sake. My intuition and suspicions are like my six sense... Perhaps I am too sensitive, overly sensitive, overly suspicious, but ever since our breakup last year in May, I have just become increasingly distrustful of my ex and do not take for granted what he tells me...
It was just a dream, but it tells me so much! How do I trust him again, if he genuinely feels remorse and regret at letting perhaps the best thing in his life go (or "giving it away" as he put it)? I have been so hurt by his behaviour and his words, especially those on the day of my departure when I last saw him in December, I am not sure what it will take to mend my broken hurt and shattered trust... But then again, the prospect of us getting back together, the possibility of starting fresh, tabula rasa with someone you already feel so much for, know so much about, seems like a beautiful, dream-like fantasy come true! Perhaps the events in our lives since our physical separation did manage to bring us closer together than ever before, did make us realise how much we mean to one another...
I just don't know, and am worried about committing again, because I was so hurt by allowing myself to commit and become so vulnerable, so dependent on one person. That has never happened, and it only happened with him, because he can touch me so, he can really comfort me so... Yet also hurt me so...
06 March 2012
Headache
I sleep, the only moments when I am relieved from feelings and emotions, when I have refuge from the painful memories of a relationship in tatters and the suffering of my own mother... and yet I am so disturbed by dreams.
Dream of moving into a shared apartment with two girls already living in it...dream of an aquarium filled with frightening sea creatures and critters... Dream of young children playing innocently and making a lot of noise... Dream of engaging in fighting at sea on a small motorcraft... Dream of firing missiles at someone and being so overjoyed seeing the person blow up into bits and pieces of flesh... Dream, dream, dream of so many images, so many people, so many places I cannot even remember anymore when I reluctantly open my eyes to face a brand new day...
I feel the heaviness of this invisible weight on my shoulders, my head is spinning uncontrollably, my eyes so sore and so drained and so unwilling to open...
How has waking up and starting a new day become such a painful torture?
Dream of moving into a shared apartment with two girls already living in it...dream of an aquarium filled with frightening sea creatures and critters... Dream of young children playing innocently and making a lot of noise... Dream of engaging in fighting at sea on a small motorcraft... Dream of firing missiles at someone and being so overjoyed seeing the person blow up into bits and pieces of flesh... Dream, dream, dream of so many images, so many people, so many places I cannot even remember anymore when I reluctantly open my eyes to face a brand new day...
I feel the heaviness of this invisible weight on my shoulders, my head is spinning uncontrollably, my eyes so sore and so drained and so unwilling to open...
How has waking up and starting a new day become such a painful torture?
Sinking
I dreamed I was cutting myself, mutilating my own body. There was no pain, just pleasure, seeing my limbs cut off. Blood spewed everywhere, everything dyed red... And I saw myself laughing, laughing! By some twisted logic, the ultimate pleasure is extreme, excruciating pain...
Woke up with such a horrible headache, and for most of the day I felt this sense of indignation and anger inside. Like everything is wrong, nothing is right. I just slept and slept some more...
Am I going complete nutters? Has the world and everything around me gotten too much I'm imagining injuring myself and dying? For some reason of late I've been just stuffing myself with "bad" food... fried stuff, stuff laden with chemicals, stuff I under normal circumstances wouldn't even look at or touch. But somehow the more I see mum vomit, the more I want to make myself sick. That's sick...
Woke up with such a horrible headache, and for most of the day I felt this sense of indignation and anger inside. Like everything is wrong, nothing is right. I just slept and slept some more...
Am I going complete nutters? Has the world and everything around me gotten too much I'm imagining injuring myself and dying? For some reason of late I've been just stuffing myself with "bad" food... fried stuff, stuff laden with chemicals, stuff I under normal circumstances wouldn't even look at or touch. But somehow the more I see mum vomit, the more I want to make myself sick. That's sick...
05 March 2012
Disturbance
Finally managed to fall asleep, and the phone rang, very close to midnight. I thought it was something very important, the hospital calling or something. Anxiously I scrambled to pick up the phone quickly, though I was very tired.
It was only my ex. Calling to ask how I'm doing. At that hour I didn't want to say much. I don't want to say much to him nowadays. I know he cares a lot, and he probably stalks this blog everyday for whatever news he can get. He knows exactly how I'm doing, so I'm not sure why he still wants to call and talk.
I just don't want to talk to him about any of the intimate details of my life or mum's illness any more, because he'll just break down and cry like so many times before. I don't need tears at this moment, and he doesn't need it either. He made that so clear to me. I just don't want to talk to him and spoil the "happiness" he's managed to find.
I clearly remember what he said to me over and over again, and again just before my departure. It'll take time for me to get over that and to be able to speak to him normally again. Till then I really have nothing to say.
I asked him how's doing. He said he was doing well, he was at work. "Good," I said.
"Take care," I said before I hung up the phone. My sleep disturbed...
張震嶽-愛我別走
[If you] Love me don't go
(translation mine)
When I come to this moment it is the same,
The loneliness at night causes one to be sad,
I do not dare to think too much, because I am by myself.
The light of the moon facing me pulls the shadow of my body longer,
Aimlessly walking on the cold, cold street,
I have no news of you, because I am thinking of you.
[If you] love me don't go,
If you say "You don't love me"
[I] don't want to hear you really say it out loud,
Give a little more warmth and tenderness.
張震嶽-愛我別走
[If you] Love me don't go
(translation mine)
When I come to this moment it is the same,
The loneliness at night causes one to be sad,
I do not dare to think too much, because I am by myself.
The light of the moon facing me pulls the shadow of my body longer,
Aimlessly walking on the cold, cold street,
I have no news of you, because I am thinking of you.
[If you] love me don't go,
If you say "You don't love me"
[I] don't want to hear you really say it out loud,
Give a little more warmth and tenderness.
Fading...
Mum used to like to joke that she was "fading like a flame" whenever she was tired or drained of energy. She said it before whenever she did not have anything to eat for a long time... She said it before when she was undergoing chemo, when the chemicals made her so drowsy and weakened that she would just lie there for a day or two...
Now she cannot eat, for whatever she eats her body rejects. Now she lies there, has been lying down almost every day for weeks now. I watch her move her frail arms and hands to do the simplest task, and see them tremble... I watch her walk the shortest distance, and see her walk ever so slowly and wobble... I watch her struggle with pain and discomfort, I watch her suffer, and painfully remember her words "fading like a flame"...
How can you keep a flame burning? With love, with passion, with joy and strokes of her frail, frail bones and body, but only for so long.
How can you rejuvenate the flame to become the fire that once burned so strongly and radiated such motherly strength and warmth? One day, one day, the fire must fade to a flame. And there will be one day when the flame will finally burn out, like a candle in the wind...
"Thank you for everything..." she said to me just now, as she lay down to rest.
Why are you at my side?
How can I be any use to you now?
Give me a chance and I'll let you see how
Nothing has changed
Now she cannot eat, for whatever she eats her body rejects. Now she lies there, has been lying down almost every day for weeks now. I watch her move her frail arms and hands to do the simplest task, and see them tremble... I watch her walk the shortest distance, and see her walk ever so slowly and wobble... I watch her struggle with pain and discomfort, I watch her suffer, and painfully remember her words "fading like a flame"...
How can you keep a flame burning? With love, with passion, with joy and strokes of her frail, frail bones and body, but only for so long.
How can you rejuvenate the flame to become the fire that once burned so strongly and radiated such motherly strength and warmth? One day, one day, the fire must fade to a flame. And there will be one day when the flame will finally burn out, like a candle in the wind...
"Thank you for everything..." she said to me just now, as she lay down to rest.
Why are you at my side?
How can I be any use to you now?
Give me a chance and I'll let you see how
Nothing has changed
04 March 2012
Home again
Home finally after five days. Mum walked so slowly, even slower than me dragging a suitcase and two heavy bags. I put away everything, put clothes in the wash, tidied up a bit, while mum sat there looking so very, very tired.
"Go rest, you haven't slept well in a few days..." I said. I haven't either, especially because of the almost constant background noise of patients and nurses, and beeping of machines. Mum must have slept even less due to her bone sores and her constant discomfort.
I put mum in bed, and covered her. She wanted a specific blanket, and grabbed at it. The tartan woollen one I bought her in Nova Scotia and sent her last year for Christmas. As I covered her, her body was twisted in a mangle, her legs looked so painfully thin... As I massaged her arm, her fingers, they felt so painfully bony.
"Sleep well," I said, "You're home now..."
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