Gut feeling

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When will the time be? Why do I dream about it so much? Why do I think about it so much?

I can't describe this feeling inside, this gut feeling something is about to happen. Something terrible. Something soon.

And I woke up today with so much pain and stomach acid suddenly accumulating in my mouth I had to go spit it all out...

It was a terrible, terrible feeling that lingered for the rest of the day, which was not helped by a three hour bike ride along the river banks. On my ride, my thoughts drifted to mum, to images of her dying and her final moments... Horrible, horrible images!

And my mind also drifted to my ex, to whether I should contact him and give him, give us a chance again. Why is it that in my darkest moments, I think of him, and have this urge to contact him? Why do I keep on seeing and imaging that he would show up and stand by me as mum slowly fades and disappears from my life? Why do I keep on imagining that mum's eventual will be the reason to bring us together again and, having gone through something so fundamental and life-changing, the reason we will always stay together?

Perhaps Facing death and so painfully seeing mum suffer and fade from my life is making me delirious...

Recall

Mum kept on asking me what brother wanted to talk to me about in private. I told her we want to discuss how to divide her assets (that was a joke...). The truth was I asked my brother to talk this weekend, to have a serious talk about what steps to take to deal with mum's deteriorating condition, and the possibility of the end of her long journey. Be prepared is what our conversation was about, and it was perhaps the calmest and most serious conversation we have had (ever?).


My sister-in-law came to visit today for a couple of hours at my urging, and she could see how weak and fragile mum's health has become. Brother, through skype, cannot really see much, but a more personal account from his wife I imagine gives my brother a better understanding of the seriousness of mum's condition.

I told him frankly about mum's diagnosis. Most likely, unless some miracle occurs, it will be downhill from now. The cancer will spread, mum's organs will weaken and begin to fail. Treatment, further treatment is an option, but what purpose will that serve? There is only one resolution at the end of this all, and we all know what that is. The impending surgery is just to make sure she does not starve, to make sure mum can still ingest food properly. A part of me, and I expressed this fear to brother, fears that with mum's condition now she may not survive the trauma of another surgery. These coming two weeks will be critical, and I have to be ever so vigilant and ready to make the difficult phone call to ask my brother to return at a moment's notice. I have also made arrangements so that he has enough means to get a ticket, if need be, immediately.

Yes, it all seems very impersonal to describe mum's condition this way, but those are the facts, those are the realities. It is up to us, the children, to soothe those hard facts and hopefully make this final stage of mum's life a memorable and easy process. I told him that he should consider spending more time with mum, and my brother and sister-in-law understood what they role is and are making good suggestions about what they can do.

My brother said he can get a few months' sabbatical to come home and spend some time with mum. His main concern is that being on unpaid leave he will have the burden to pay bills and the mortgage, but I reassured him that I can step in to help in whatever way I can. "At this point, there is nothing more important," I said, referring to the fact that there really is nothing more important than spending time with mum, precious moments with mum, and sending her off in a beautiful, moving manner.

I promised I'd be in touch, and my brother said he always has his mobile close by. I imagine he is agitated and anxious being so far away and unable to do much. I reassured him I am here, and doing what I can, and he actually thanked me for all I've been doing. I just smiled and said I'm just doing what I can, and it is only so much.

We both have different roles to play, and I feel as we get closer to losing another parent, there is a bond between my brother and I that is becoming closer and warmer.

Emptiness of feeling

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I walked around the store by myself after dinner. Dinners have become a solo affair since mum started not being able to eat around three weeks ago.

Normally, in the evening I'd drag mum out for a walk, but walking now has become a difficult and painful ordeal, even if it's to the department store or the sports park a few hundred metres away.

I originally went to the store looking for something to aid mum's sleep, but I was disappointed they didn't have what I was looking for. I walked around a bit, and came to the music store, where lonesome music of Sara Maclauclin sounded on the stereo.

I don't know why I suddenly felt so lonely, and why tears came to my eyes. I looked around me, a store with lots of people, with lots of parents walking around with their children. Not long ago, mum and I could and did come walk around here, but now I'm not sure when, if ever, mum will regain the strength to venture that far and wander aimlessly browsing the aisles of the department store she frequented so often.

Right there, in the middle of the store, my mind jumped to "that moment", as it has been doing a lot over the past few days. The moment of final goodbye...

I saw mum lie there calmly, peacefully, and I saw brother and his family all gathered around the bed. They were in tears, but brother was comforted by and comforting his wife, while my little nephew looked around with big curious eyes wondering what was happening. I saw myself stand there alone, all alone over mum's bed. I was holding her hand, comforting her, telling her something.

The next image was me alone at night, so afraid, so very fraught with sadness and grief, so drained, so empty of feelings... There was nobody to comfort me... I felt so sad by the image that was vividly playing in my mind... My thoughts drifted to one person, for I have often imagined that he would be by my side when the time comes. But that person was not there...

And right there, in the middle of the store, I shed a tear. I was so filled with dread, so full of fear that when the time comes, I'll have to cope on my own. I know i have it in my to deal with the final goodbye, a moment I have been "rehearsing" in my drifting thoughts and dreams, a moment I have experienced before with dad's passing. But I feel perhaps mum's final moment may have a whole new and more profound impact than anything else I've ever had to undergo. I fear I may be devastated and shattered beyond consolation.

But that is all conjuncture, all my imagination and fears getting the better of me. I'll have to cope, and I believe I can cope, even though deep down inside, I so crave and long to have someone at my side when I face perhaps the most difficult moment of my life.

A moment that may soon be approaching any day...

Vigilance

A-ma

"A-ma is ill..." mum said weakly as my sister-in-law and nephew walked into the room. Mum moved her upper body in an attempt to reach for her grandchild, but she was too tired, too weak to get up.

"A-ma will get better!" my sister in law said as she  carried the baby onto the bed.

Mum smiled seeing her grandson, and my nephew stuck his tongue out and started smiling, started drooling. 

Mum's source of happiness, her source joy was at her side again... Her grandson may not heal her wounds, may not be able to soothe her constant numbness and sores, but he can make her smile and make her forget, if only temporarily, she is ill and leaving soon.

There is nothing more beautiful, nothing more precious.



(*A-ma is Taiwanese for grandma.)

Picture of a tree

Once, when mum was visiting the Netherlands, I went with her to the forest where she loves to walk in. We came across a tree, and in the middle of the trunk was a massive lump. A tree tumour.

Mum reached out her arm and touched that tree. "Giving you encouragement. Be strong!" she said. She knew how the tree felt. I told her, see even a tree with a tumour can grow strong and tall!
I captured that moment on camera, and the picture I had printed now sits on a shelf in mum's bedroom...

These are the memories that at a journey's end will carry us safely and warmly into the unknown that follows...

Complicity

When you know someone is close, so very close to "fading", and you let the person be, you do not do anything to seek emergency medical attention, are you a murderer or complicit in suicide? Are you respecting the patient's wish, or standing by and fully knowing without medical intervention, the person may very well soon become so weak and just die?

Mum knows fully well her condition is critical at the moment, and that her lifeline is wearing thinner and thinner and that her life is hanging increasingly by a thinning thread. She has the option to go into ER and be admitted into hospital for monitoring pronto. But she chooses to wait till the hospital calls her in for surgery, which can be a week or at least several days from now. Am I "helping" her by respecting her wish, or am I killing her by not actively having her committed into hospital for treatment? 

 She chooses to be at home, in the relative comfort and familiarity of home. This is understandable, as at home, she can lie in her own bed, she can go sit on the balcony and look out the window, she can sit in her comfy chair and put her legs up. But at home there is no medical professional to monitor her life signs and give her IV drips. There is just me, a wannabe-lawyer trying to be a wannabe-carer, trying to muddle through and give her whatever she can drink to stay hydrated and hopefully get some nutrition to sustain her bodily functions. I know fully well what she is drinking, protein shakes (albeit high in many of the recommended daily intake of vital nutrients) and the occasional soup and fruit juice (with glutamine, for extra energy), is not enough to sustain her in the long run. And that there will be a point where her resources become so depleted that she may go into shock, or worse.

But she wants to stay home, she does not want to stay in hospital for an unnecessary period of time. I asked her, and that is her wish, one she explicitly told me. A wish I can only respect, especially after a number of confrontations we have had over the issue over the past three weeks when I have exhaustively tried to persuade her to go into hospital. I reminded her again today if she really does not feel well and feels so very weak, we must check into ER. And she agreed.

Dare I even think it? Dare I even say it out loud, or is my mind going into hyper imaginative mode again? Is she doing something consciously, I wonder? Somehow, my gut is telling me  mum may be choosing an "easier" way "out" by letting her body starve. Easier at least compared to languishing in unbearable pain when at the very end the cancer spreads and spreads and eats away your body bit by bit.

 And in a way, if this is true, I do not seem to be the least bit concerned. In fact, if it is true, I actually tacitly hope for it, if it is really her wish, for her sake, and in a selfish way, for my own and for everyone's sake.

 Is it so terrible, so sinful of me to even have this thought or to even think of this possibility? Is it so cruel of me to keep on thinking and imagining the ways she could "go"? I am not plotting her demise, for I do hope she can get better and travel again, as she has always enjoyed doing. But I think she realises, especially after how the doctors have described her current condition, with the cancer spreading in her spine and in her digestive system, it really is a matter of time for her, only, nobody knows when or how or how painful it will be. And it can take a while, a grueling, and excruciatingly painful while. What is the purpose of living and experiencing so much pain, when she has experienced so much pain and suffering over the past few years already? And what is the point of undergoing a surgical procedure which can only solve your eating for some time and prolong your life when you know very well the quality of that life will be eroded by the cancer spreading, for which there is no cure or treatment, not even to contain the spreading?

I am scared to even have these thoughts, to even know that my mind can think this way. But if I look deep inside my conscience, I only wish her the best, and I only wish that she does not have to go through unnecessary suffering for long. I only  hope that one day, when that day comes, mum can pass away relatively painlessly rather than having her experience so much pain and suffering right up to the very end.

Decision

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Mum and I pleaded with the surgeon. He came highly recommended, a well regarded specialist in colon and rectal surgery, who even operated on a former president. Earlier this week the same surgeon operated on mum's brother to remove a lump in his colon.
Mum waited almost two weeks to be seen by this surgeon, and she was not easily going to give up.

The surgeon explained, confirming the oncologist's diagnosis, that the cancer had spread to the duodenum and was blocking food from leaving the stomach and entering the small intestines. The vomiting is a "naturally" (it's far from natural... But it's what happens when there's a severe blockage.) reflex of the stomach to eject everything out the way it came in; through the mouth thus. It's very serious, and the doctor said it must be operated on. Either to remove the blockage, or as is very likely the case, to put in a bypass duct to redirect the flow of flood past the tumour.

At least we knew and confirmed the cause of the vomiting, even though it was very hard and difficult news to... (literally, pun intended, if it's not too crude...) digest.

Then came the bad news.

"You can go see the surgeon who operates on you before. I have too many patients..." the surgeon said, referring to the surgeon who performed the operation to remove the original colon cancer back in May 2006, on Mother's Day of all days. Mum's face turned when she heard that the surgeon did not want to treat her. She looked so small and sad slumped away in the chair, even smaller and sadder now that she lost so much weight...

But mum has not seen that surgeon for almost six years, on account of his poor attitude and lack of compassion toward her. Mum was assigned to him by the ER ward after a routine checkup (arranged by my dad, who pushed mum to get checked...) revealed the Stage III tumour there. She did not choose him, and did not look around for a surgeon she was confident with or trusted (which is often done here... Patients can choose and pick their doctors). On a return visit after the surgery, mum complained that she was feeling very tired and drained of all energy. That surgeon replied: "Tired?! Can civil servants ever be as tired as doctors?" No need to explain why mum never went back to see him.

Mum narrated the experience to the new colo-rectal surgeon, who is the head of the department at the hospital and well respected. He was unmoved for a while, and kept on saying he simply had too many patients to deal with, and that he was simply overwhelmed with work. But mum and I persisted and tried to persuade him to change his mind. For a while, mum just sat there, and it was a tense moment, and I was half expecting, half fearing the surgeon would throw us out of his consultation room. I felt like crying.

The surgeon sat there and was quiet as mum continued to plead her case. "I've not been able to eat for three weeks, and I've waited so long to see you." The surgeon said he could not take her, for he would not be there the following week to assess mum's case, and that this would endanger mum's health. But mum pleaded more, and my aunt (who was with us, and whose husband was operated by the surgeon a few days earlier...) added a few words too. "Please doctor, we know you a good doctor, please don't refuse us..."

But something moved the surgeon eventually. When he heard mum's complaint about his colleague he finally said that there are some doctors who will only take "good patients", ie patients who have a good chance of recovery and surviving. He never mentioned mum's surgeon six years ago by name, but from his words and tone, and from the way he was forcing a smile, it was as if he was implying his colleague was one of these doctors.

Eventually, after listening to us for almost ten minutes, the surgeon finally said: "You're really willing to wait? I won't be able to do anything until the week after." The surgeon was somehow moved, and despite his initial resistance to taking the case, he relented and said he could make time and make sure a bed is freed up for mum.

And mum quickly agreed to wait. There was a look of relief on her face, as if half her worries have gone.

"You can go to ER and get some care and treatment before the surgery. Or you can go home till we call you." the nurse told us. Mum chose, of course, the latter. Home meant better sleep quality, better comfort, less noise, even if mum has not been able to sleep much and any good anywhere...

We returned home, i wondered how long it would be before we were called in, and how long it would be before mum receives some kind of treatment.

But at least we have some hope yet.

Fading

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Mum is so weak she can barely stand, and I can barely understand her when she speaks. Today I had to help her take off her hooded top, for she seemed batty able to muster the energy to take it off herself.
It is her wish to stay at home, where she is more comfortable while we wait for a hospital bed to free up. How long we have to wait, I'm not sure, but in any case the procedure cannot be done until the week after, ten days or so from now at the earliest.

I asked her if that is her wish, and it is. She is only satisfied if the renowned surgeon operates on her, and said she is willing to wait for him to return (I suspect from holidays, but I'm not sure). She said she has been waiting for so long to see him, two weeks almost to make an appointment, so another week or so will not make a difference.

Will it?

Hands

I have been planning to go to that store since this idea came to my mind. Inadvertently one day, some years ago I came across the store while walking around downtown. It specialises in products made from Formosan Hinoki (cypress), which has an extremely fragrant and therapeutic aroma. The wood is often used to make furniture or tubs for soaking your body or feet.

Last year, I bought a tub for mum to soak her feet. Soaking helps the blood circulate more and also reduce any feelings of pain or discomfort. It also warms up mum's feet, which are often ice cold, due to bad circulation.

As the numbness in mum's hands are getting worse, what better idea is there than buying mum a smaller tub for just her hands? One that she can carry because it's more compact and lighter.

The store owner was nice, and I told him what I was looking for and why. I'm guilty of "exploiting" other people's sympathies, especially if it can get me a deal. But the local culture is such that you can bargain, because especially for a product with no set price, they usually set the price high.

He was touched. It's rare, he said, for children these days to want to take care of their parents. He reduced the price by almost $30 NT$700) when he heard I was buying it for mum.

Later in the conversation, I added that mum has cancer, and that I just hope to do anything I can to make her feel comfortable. Anything at all to remove her discomforts and her pains. anything at all to touch her heart and make her feel loved and cared about. This was not in a devious attempt to bargain, but to genuinely talk to someone about what I'm doing, and why I do what I do.

Because it's a touching story I am experiencing and living, one that should be told and shared, one that I humbly hope can inspire others tp spread a little more care and love to those around them. This is not about one boy trying to make a little difference. The story is about the strong-willed fighter, and the final days before retirement after a long, difficult struggle.

The man patted me on my shoulders several times, and shared with me his own story of when he took care of his aged parents, who have now gone. "Three grains of peanuts is worth more than a pig's head afterwards..." He said, alluding to a Taiwanese proverb about how little offerings to your loved ones when they are alive is worth much more than trying to make up for things after they are gone. Grand offerings (like a pig's head, which is locally considered a grand sacrifice to the spirits and deities...) and elaborate funeral ceremonies are to impress the living, the man said, they mean nothing to the one who is already gone.

He patted me on the shoulder again, and repeatedly, in a warm, heart-touching way that only Taiwanese people know how, he asked me to go back to his shop sometime for tea （有銀來泡茶！)

Operation Reunion

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Brother looked so terribly sad, frowning and almost in tears. Poor him, waking up in the morning and having to receive news of mum's latest diagnosis as soon as he opened his eyes. Mum did not go much into detail when they spoke, and I stayed quiet on the side to let them have their moment together. I wrote to brother and said I'll speak to him more over the weekend. We need to have a real chat.

Brother's been calling almost everyday, at my urging. I've been writing to him, asking him to contact mum more often. Otherwise, before he would only call once a week, if that. You never know when or how, but I do know death can often leave the people left behind filled with regret, deep deep regret. Regret that weighs heavily on the mind, and may always, always linger, even with time. But this can be prevented.

I've also been asking my sister-in-law to put more pictures and videos of my nephew on Facebook. I often show mum pictures of what i have on my phone, but they are from a month or so ago. And in a way, I'm afraid that mum seeing her "old" self, even from a month ago, may be difficult for her...

Really, seeing my nephew is the only thing that makes mum smile and makes her temporarily forget about her illness and her pains. And any temporary relieve or escape from pain and suffering is very welcome.

With the pending readmission into hospital, I asked my sister-in-law to bring my nephew to Taipei to be with his grandma for a few days. Otherwise, my sister-in-law and nephew are due to return to Europe in a week or two. And if they come visit later, mum will be in hospital, where it'll be harder for my nephew to visit.

Operation Reunion is a new "project" I am planning to adapt to the new diagnosis and changing circumstances. The goal is to bring this family as close together as possible, in any possible way. To unite this family, and reassure mum and all of us, that we are still a family no matter what happens.

Originally, I had planned to bring everyone together in Canada for my graduation in June (in fact, I got an email today reminding me to register for my gown...). But more and more with mum's deteriorating health, that the dream may very likely not be happening. Mum is simply too weak, and with the latest complications and pending surgery it's even less likely that mum will be able to travel far.

So if I can't bring mum and the family together, why not bring the family to mum? I've been thinking about it for a few days already. My brother and his family visiting me in Canada can always wait, the ticket I bought them can always be cancelled. But time together as a whole family, that may not be able to wait, that cannot be cancelled, for what could be more important? So I told my brother it's best if instead of going to Canada they came back here again. If need be, I'll make the necessary travel arrangements.

There is nothing worth more than a family brought together. There is nothing worth more to see mum smile and laugh with her children and grandchild.

Those memories, those laughs, those smiles are something to look forward to, something to cling onto in the face of the difficult, difficult days ahead.

How much longer?

She lay in bed and said something. No, it was more a desperate attempt at a whisper. An attempt to whisper out her frustration, her pain.

"A...few... months..."

I heard what she said. I can hear, I can see. And I see the inevitable approaching slowly, slowly, ever so slowly. "What did you say...?"

I knew what mum said. I just wanted to hear it. Again. Why? Is it perverse to want to hear it from mum's mouth in her own frail voice?

Does it matter how much longer?

Dreaming of the ex

How disturbed I am...

Is my mind just seeking an escape from the nightmarishness of things at home by conjuring images of fantasies with my ex in them? Or am I deep down inside really missing him so much, but have just been suppressing my feelings for so long?

I dreamed I was asking mum (who looked relatively healthy... Anything is better the condition she is in now...) about whether I should move in with my ex (which I guess in the dream would no longer be my ex if we were planning to move in together.) She didn't say much, just something along the lines of "as long as it feels right".

Strangely, I have been having thoughts of living together with my ex for some time, even recently. When I read his email in which he declared clearly his feelings for me, I imagined proposals to get married, my mind produced images of having dinner together at home after we both come back from a long day at work... I imagined holidays in far away places, I imagined sleeping next to him every night for the rest of our lives and how wonderful that would be...

Back to the dream last night... Another scene was mum visiting us in Canada somewhere. And it did not feel awkward at all, but so very natural. My ex (or whatever he is in my dream) was very courteous and welcoming of my mother, and we got along just fine together (sadly, unlike when mum goes to Europe to stay with my brother and my sister-in-law...)

What is wrong with me...? Just sweet words and attempts to woo my heart again have this effect on me? how can I have any assurance any of these dreams can be realised? How can I ever know whether or not my ex is true to me and really wants to have a whole new start between us and get rid of all the ugliness and misunderstandings that have dogged our relationship/friendship for the past several months?

I have no assurances, I only have fantasies and imaginations. And though they are beautiful to indulge in, though they make me temporarily escape the heaviness of life (and possible death) here, they cause me only more confusion, they are a disturbance that distracts me from my priorities in life at the moment...

The verdict

The new oncologist is a patient man, who was very willing to listen to mum describe her history and conditions. He is the kind of doctor mum needs in preparation for the final leg of her journey, the kind i hope can give her assurance and confidence, no matter what happens from now. In the final leg of life, is not assurance and confidence what we need, along side love and companionship? He is the kind of doctor I have been hoping will listen and advise, and will be Frank with mum. Because secrets and the unsaid can do so much more damage.

The MRI  scan that was conducted at the beginning of the month revealed a blockage in the front section of the duodenum leading from the stomach. What is for certain but almost relatively clear, pending confirmation from a biopsy that was taken during yesterday's endoscop, is that the blockage is due to a tumour growing there. Whether it is a new instance of cancer or something that spread from the original site of mum's cancer in the colon is uncertain. It doesn't really matter.

What matters is that with the blockage into the duodenum mum simply cannot eat and simply cannot digest anything, which means she is not getting any vital nutrients to sustain her bodily functions... and what happens when you cannot eat or drink properly? You weaken and you die.

Surgery is the only wat to deal with the problem, either by removing the blockage or by creating a bypass duct to allow food to circumvent the blockage enter the duodenum. The feasibility of the operation and how deeply the surgery can remove the problem epends on an assessment of mum's health condition (which terrible...) and on whether it is worth conducting such an invasive surgery. This can only be assessed by the gastroenterologist, and there is an appointment planned for tomorrow.

The oncologist was very frank with mum after looking at her medical records and noting the treatments she has undergone. She has really done every type of treatment there is, but the cancer keeps on returning and more aggressive. Without solving the eating problem, everything else, including possible followup treatment to contain mum's cancer, is not even worth mentioning or discussing at this point.

I was extremely disheartened, even to the point of being able to hear my heart break deep down inside... mum has gone through so much, so much already, but there is now even more ordeal to overcome? What is wrong with the universe to throw so much at mum, and indirectly at me...? I looked at mum's face as she walked slowly away from the consultation room. We were silent on the entire journey home. It was a journey we have taken before together. The long, long journey home after receiving a warning sentence on your life and happiness.

How does one face all this without flinching? How does one receive such news without being affected or dragged down to the depths of despair?

We got home and I closed the door behind us.

I gave mum a long overdue hug.

A hug to help both of us calm down. A hug to help us both face a new reality we did not foresee and could not prepare for. A hug, filled with unspoken love and care to receive mum I will be with through this and a whirling more.

Be prepared

Be prepared

"Your mum came too late..." The lady told me. All those drugs and medicine she has been taking have completely covered her organs that they don't function any more. The last five days of chantings every single morning can only help her a little. She has to be responsible for her health and happiness. She has to be willing to believe she will be better.

"You can only do your best as a child, and leave the rest to the heavens," she said to me as I put on my jacket to leave. Send positive thoughts to her, silently give her your wishes and blessings, silently ask her spirit to chant with you, she told me.

"You have to be prepared..."

Was there a veiled caution? Does she know something I don't know but may know very soon? Again, the Taiwanese language is one that thrives on ambiguity.

Prepared for losing her... Prepared for losing the one last thing that is dear to my heart, dear to my life, dear to my very being.

Diagnosis

Sometimes you hear something but it doesn't register until later because you were temporarily numbed.

Is it a way for your body and mind to process news you fear and dont't want to hear?

Numb.

Numb.

Numb.

Fear

Have you ever been so afraid of anything you cannot see, you cannot touch and yet you know is there and killing you painful?

That is fear...

Pushing the limits

How much longer of this can I take? Mum refusing to go see a doctor that does not come recommended and then starving because whatever she eats she vomits. There mustbe a limit how longa person can go on for without proper nutrition, without proper rest. She cannot eat, so she is tired. But because she's hungry, she cannot sleep well. Everything together makes her weaker and weaker. What is the limit of her body? How much more can she torture her own body like this and refuse treatment?

She's torturing herself, but also tormenting me...

I am so tired, so frustrated, angry even.

And all I can do is watchmum throw up more and more and get closer and closer to death...

Doctors

Doctors
The endoscope has been done, mum can go to ER and be transferred to the gastroenterology ward for follow up and treatment. It's the quickest way to be provided with professional medical care. She really has been waiting and putting it off for far too long. But she does not want to go.

She wants a "good" doctor. How it works here is there are a number of specialists in each department, and the patient can choose which one s/he wants to be seen and treated by. So it is understandable people want to have the "best". I asked the head nurse at the gastroenterology ward who she she can recommend and made and appointment for today, but mum does not want to go. The doctor is not of "professor grade".

"Are professor grade doctors supposed to be better people? Are they supposed to care more about patients?" I am very frustrated. So much waiting, and mum could already be in hospital to receive treatment for whatever is causing her to vomit so much, but she wants to find a better doctor. A doctor who comes recommended.

I woke up this morning and had to rush out to go to the chanting session. Mum sat there in the living room and asked me to call her neurologist to see if he can recommend a "good doctor". "Can you not do it yourself? Why must I do everything?"

I know it's not nice to say that, but I really have become so very tired of having to do everything single thing. I found her a doctor which comes recommended, but she does not want it. She wants a doctor that is recommended by someone she knows, in this case her neurologist. So she can call her neurologist herself and speak to him personally, why is that so difficult?

This really has been bothering me for a while. Even when my brother was around, mum asks me to do simple tasks like fill the water kettle. Such simple things my brother can be asked to do while he was here, and yet I am the one who has to do everything...

I am just so tired and so frustrated of waiting and watching mum vomit again and again. It is driving me to extreme levels of sadness and desperation, and pushing my patience to extremes.

Tortured

It's so painful... So very painful.

No rest, no relief. Just one thing after another, one damn struggle after another...

More and more I wish I could fall asleep and never wake up, never feel, never have to think again.

Love

What does it take to move me?
What does it take to touch me?

Not much...

I just need someone who would show me, tell me, prove to me he loves me so. Loves me unconditionally, loves me no matter what, loves me despite all my flaws and despite my past. Love me and take care of me, because I will do the same in return...

I cannot offer everything there is under the sun, I cannot guarantee there will always be peace and happiness. But I can guarantee when I love, I give my all, I give my very best.

How far would you go for someone to prove your love?

Language of the Heavens

"Kong kong kang san Chiang si kang san yi si kong kang ki ki chiang si kang ku...

Kang kiang kong kong ki Ko
Kana Yi kong San chiang si
Kaaaang..."

And on and on and on. I have no idea what the lady is saying, neither does my mum. It sounds like a between Vietnamese and Japanese, Taiwanese and Hakka. But it's none of those. It's supposedly the "Language of the Heavens", with which you can summon deities down to earth and ask for their blessing and protection.

The lady chanting asked mum and I to follow along. "Not with your mouth, but with your heart..." The chanting is lyrical to the ear, sometimes sounds so sad, as she is wailing, but sometimes also so forceful and energising.
Before she starts, she always hands me a large pieces of yellow paper, all filled on one side with unintelligible scribbles and lines in black and red marker pen. Follow with your finger each "character" (or whatever symbol they are...), and "read" it with love, I was told.

For a while I felt like a fool, but cancer, and illness in general, makes fools of us all. When "traditional" arts of western medicine do not seem to work, or work well enough, you seize whatever other options you can. With limitations of course. The chanting and "text" reading can do no harm. It's not as if mum or I are being asked to drink potions made from the blood of a black dog and toad's foot, or to use lotions made from the eyes of crow and baby's urine. It's just chanting, and a kind looking lady gesturing with her hands and fingers and as if communicating with some unseen persona in the room. All mum and I have to do is sit there and listen, and chant along with our hearts.

Believe it or not, mum said before se started going to the daily morning sessions of chanting, she said she felt a lump in her bowels. It's supposed to be the "unseen", a euphemism for so angry spirit or demon which has sought refuge inside mum's body and is causing her stomach to be congested and causing her to vomit so wildly. After attending two days of chanting, the lump was gone. I don't know if I am under their persuasion, as everyday they keep on saying that mum's complexion is getting better and she looks like she has more "qi" (energy in the metaphysical sense) than before, but mum does indeed look somewhat a little better. At least not worse off than before.

The chanting continues and half way through the session I'm always asked to take the pieces of text and burn them. So I burn them, and bow to the heavens with great reverence, and ask for their blessings. It's what I do anyways, so it does not surprise me or make me feel in any way odd.

"Believe in yourself," the lady says to mum every single day at the end of the sessions, "Believe you can beat this demon! Love yourself and be happy. Don't think of anything else, but just be happy!"

I don't know what religion or customary practice these people perform, but anything that talks about self-love and being happy gets my support. Anything that will boost mum's confidence and health and wellbeing is worth a try, even if I don't understand a thing they are chanting.

Endoscopy

Finally, after almost three gruelling weeks of waiting and vomiting, it was mum's turn to conduct a pain-free endoscopy. This period has been hellish, filled with daily and nightly gagging, coughing, vomiting and bending over the toilet bowl. How I have slept so badly at nigh for fear she will throw up in the middle of the night and choke... How I have been worried sick and begun to cry from seeing mum so terribly sick... what hurts most of all is hearing mum complain of hunger, and not being, not daring, able to give her any food to relieve her constant hunger... What pains me is seeing her loose so much weight, under my watch...

Today, just before heading to the hospital for the scheduled appointee, mum lay in her bed and whispered so quietly, for she has so little energy left, "I have neglected my health and waited too long..." One reason was because she did not want to go through five minutes max of intrusive internal examination of her bowls. The other reason, which made me livid when I found out as mum spoke to my aunt (mum's brother's wife) was that she did not want to return to hospital to stay because she was afraid stadium in hospital would cause me too much tiredness... As if staying at home and seeing her vomit again and again was so much less tiring or painful to experience!

They gave mum a light dose of anaesthesia so she would not feel much during the procedure. I was asked to leave the room, but on two occasions when the assistant entered and left the room I could see a live image of the procedure on a large LCD screen. One split second image was (what I think is) of the oesophagus, which looked relatively healthy. The next image a few minutes later was of a cave-like structure, which was a very gray and bloody looking in colour. There was this lump-like structure, very unhealthy and deadly looking. That's just the impression i had when i saw it. I had no idea what it was I was looking at as I peeked through the door, but I somehow had a premonition that it was something awful. I just had that..."gut" feeling.

Where I sleep

This is my bed nowadays, cramped little corner of mum's bedroom, ever aware and ever ready when mum should get up in the middle of the night.

Disturbed by the past

Mum and I were both so very tired when we got home late in the afternoon. She went to her bed immediately, and I wanted to lie down too for a few moments.

Then  the phone rang, and I picked up quickly, for it was a number I associate most with my brother calling from skype. It was not my brother. It was my ex.

I was distant on the phone, cold, perhaps even rude. I initially did not want to talk much, and just let the conversation come to an end. I really was in no mood to talk, and in least of a mood to talk about mum's ordeal and my feelings. But for some time I have been meaning to talk to him, to hopefully get to the bottom of this impasse between us, and the confusion and disturbed thoughts I have been having since I read an email he wrote me declaring his love for me.

I am just so very confused what it is he wants... He has a relationship, as far as I can tell. He told me to move on and go see people the day I left. And then suddenly, days after my birthday he tells in a series of emails me about regrets he has, about how he has come to realise what I mean to him in his life. I really don't know what to do with that...

Is he trying to get close to my heart, because I have been distancing myself from him these two (almost three) months I have been away and minimised all contact with him? Is he just trying to be a friend, or is he trying to see if I will be moved to get back together again?  And do I just let him into my life again, after seeing him tell me time and time again, after seeing him time and time again go after someone else?  Do I let him back in, when for the past year and a half I have been struggling so painfully hard trying to balance my emotions and energies between being there for my mum and maintaining something, whatever it is, with an ex who has touched my life like no other before?

I kept on telling him how I have been so torn by the deterioration of my relationship with him and by the deterioration of my mum's condition. Really, in all my life, I have never had to fight on two "fronts", and to fight to try to salvage, or at least soothe two fundamental aspects that are so core to my life and wellbeing. You know what it has done to me? Really torn me and my mind to shreds... really caused me so many disturbed dreams and waking moments...

In my ex's latest message to me, he says he wants to come all the way here to see me. Fly half way around the world to see me. I am touched, but at the same time I am also very wary... What is he trying to prove? That he can be a friend and not feel in any way conflicted by being there for me, and being in a relationship with someone else? Or is he trying to absolve his own feelings of guilt for not being able to be there for me because of the circumstances we find ourselves in? Is he coming to see me to tell me in person "Let's start all over again!"? How I dream and imagine that last possibility being true; how I long for perhaps some ending to the confused and painful breakup we have had to endure!
But that is just a fantasy, just an imagination... The stuff of movies, the stuff of fairytales perhaps!



But I don't know what he wants... I told him in several emails ever since I last saw him to go and be happy. I told him I have no ill feelings toward him, that I do no lament anything we ever had and lost. I told him to live with no regrets and not to dwell over the past, because I thank him dearly for all he has ever done for me and is still trying to do for me... But he just is not able to let go of me. He just does not seem able to "resolve me", as he once told me he wanted to do...

What is it about me that he cares about so much? What is it about me that he loves so much? I have hurt him in the past, I stood in his way of love. He came out of a long term relationship hoping to be with me. He interrupted a potential relationship to be with me (though that was shortlived, and he is now back with that guy again...).  What is it that he sees in me or needs so badly from me that he cannot get from anyone else? Why me of all people? Why can't he forget me and let go of me?

I simply do not understand, and am frankly very scared... I am afraid of being drawn into his declaration of his love, afraid that it may just be "sweet talk" to woo me, and that some time down the line, he will grow tired of me and tell me he wants someone else.

I am so afraid of his feelings, such strong feelings of care and love it seems, because how true are they, how true can they be when he was the one who seemed for several months so eager to jump into a relationship with someone else? How true can feelings be for someone when you can seemingly easily move onto another relationship? Am I, have I, just an option for him?

Or did my ex realise come to a realisation, a deep, deep realisation after much time alone (or at least away from me) that I am "the one" (if there is such a thing...) in his life?

I don't know. I simply do not know what he is thinking or "playing at", for frankly after the long drawn out breakup between us, after he told me things like how much he cares and loves me, and yet goes and spend more and more time with another, I have difficulty in trusting him...

However much I am moved by his declaration of love for me, however much I am in some ways tempted to perhaps see what future we may still have together, I am so afraid of getting hurt again and again by him. Afraid that he is now trying to get close to me so that he can have his relationship, and have whatever benefits he can get from me...

Is it too self-focused to feel this way, to even think this way? I am in such a vulnerable, vulnerable state of mind right now, I just cannot think clearly. And my ex's attempt to reach me, to be there for me scares me, and I don't know how to accept or receive it. How do I accept his care and get close to him and not feel hurt? How do I accept his care and not perpetually feel belittled and reduced to being someone "on the side", as I have been feeling for a long time now as my ex and his romance matured?

I really don't know what he wants, what he is trying to do to me. I just hope he is not playing games with me or my heart... I know, it's terrible to even think this way, or to think he can do that. But really, at this stage in my life, I am just so desperate to get love and assurance, desperate to find comfort and familiarity again that I am afraid my judgment and feelings may be confused and clouded...

Really, I am now more confused and more conflicted than before when I was not taking his calls and avoiding direct contact with him...

Consultation

For so several nights, mum has been waking up and vomiting at night. As soon as I hear the washroom door open, I rush to help her. She does not sleep well, and neither do I...

She was so frail today, I had to hold her arm or otherwise she might fall. We struggled to go to one of her many appointments this week, today with the neurosurgeon who operated on her spine. He was compassionate and sat down with mum for a good twenty minutes or so, but he is a neurosurgeon, not a gastroenterologist. While mum was at the hospital two weeks back, she did a scan, and the scan revealed that there seems to be  a blockage or swelling in the duodenum, the section connecting the stomach and the small intestines. The swelling, unknown in origin, may be the likely cause of mum's severe vomiting and inability to eat. Mum was told to return home, and see what the endoscopy planned for tomorrow reveals. Asked whether given mum's frail condition staying in hospital is necessary (I have for several days tried to persuade mum to go to ER...), the neurosurgeon said there is really very little they can do until a more invasive and thorough examination of mum's stomach is conducted. An examination mum has been waiting for for over two weeks, and for a period during which she has been constantly vomiting... All because they cannot arrange a "painless endoscopy" in short enough...

I have become so afraid, so pained seeing mum vomit, for after such a long time, and seeing her vomit every single day, it makes you wonder how much longer mum's body can take this. Seeing mum get thinner and thinner, weaker and weaker has, especially in the past few days, exacerbated fears that she may lose so much weight and strength that her body will just 'shut down', give up... In one word, die.
It really kills me to see her continue to suffer like this, and to have to keep on waiting to see what exactly is wrong with her...

"Go home, and drink liquids. Drink plenty of water, juices," the doctor said, "It's better than having IV drips if your body can still absorb nutrients the natural way." I trust the doctor, and was reassured somewhat. But really how much can mum's body absorb when almost everything she eats or drinks comes out? I really am all out of ideas of what to give her, and all I've been giving her are these high-protein shakes, which mum can at times drink without vomiting fully.

Before heading home, we walked slowly to the level with all the surgical wards. There, the family of my mum's first brother, were sitting and waiting. My uncle was diagnosed with Stage 0 colon cancer about two weeks ago. Though it is not serious, the doctor recommended a surgical resection to remove that section of the colon to prevent it growing and spreading. And today, my uncle went in for a procedure that last some 9 hours. I consoled my cousins, who were all very anxious and worried. Luckily, the last I heard was that the operation went as planned, and my uncle is now recovering.

Desperate times...

Brother cried on Skype, his face torn with grief.

"Please, don't worry... I'll be here till the very end, I'm by mum's side. I'll keep you posted..." I said.

Gift

Gift

The other day I gave my mum my iPhone to play with. She's used it before, to look at pictures and sometimes play music on the radio while she's at the hospital. But I wanted to be sure she knows how to control a touch screen before I "commit" to what I just did.

I've been "plotting" something for a while already, ever since I noticed her begin to lose full and steady control of her hands and the nimbleness of her fingers. And one day, she said it's even hard to type on a keyboard and getting harder to manoeuvre a mouse. Those complaints gave me more the reason to buy her...

A notepad.

My brother got one last month for his wife, and partly for his son too. He said my nephew can play with the notepad to train his hand-eye coordination and listen to interactive stories for babies that you can download online (yes, this is a different era now, and my nephew just turned six months...!!) The device looked really handy and I played with it a bit. And when mum started complaining about her hands more, the idea came to me.

So today, I took some time out for myself and rushed downtown. I knew what I wanted, so it was a matter of getting a good deal and comparing prices. Eventually I got a good price for an earlier edition of the notepad my brother got. Funny thing was, I took out the maximum daily limit of money i'm allowed from the machine, and with what I had it was just about enough to buy the notepad and a case. I came home with almost an empty wallet, but a big happy smile and warm heart!

Mum's new Asus Transformer ("It's very well made in Taiwan"!) comes with all the basic functions that mum needs, like Internet, video and music entertainment and photo storage. Mum can easily navigate the device with her fingers, and if need be, she can also write with strokes of her fingers on the screen. Most important of all, it has a video/camcorder for skyping, either with her grandson or sons! And the good thing about a pad is mum can use it anywhere, even in her bed or sitting leaning back in her comfy chair.

Mum has not idea what I just did, but I look forward to seeing the look on her face when she sees what I bought for her. It's all part of what I like to call "Operation Eternal Happiness", a series things I'm trying to do to make mum settled and (as the name suggests) happy in the life and health circumstances she now finds herself in. Losing your health, and losing part of your dependence and mobility does not mean the end of your life, I keep on telling her. Life can and must go on, it's just that you have to make some changes (and purchases) to adapt.

The irony is when brother brought his notepad, mum was telling me to get one too. But I have no use for one, because I'm already content to be tapping away on the little screen of my iPhone, which I'm already used to carrying around and jotting down my random thoughts and observations with!

4.03AM

I sleep in the dinning room now, just steps away from mum's bedroom, so i can hear when she gets up. And she gets up a lot every night, at least three, four times. Either to vomit or to get up and drink something, which is usually just warm water.

So I get up too when she's up, and feel so tired from the disturbed sleep. She too is so tired, running on her last reserves I feel... For how long can a person go without good sleep and proper nutrition?

Bag rustling

I heard a plastic bag rustle, and knew what it meant. In the washroom I found mum, and my heart sunk again...

I patted mum's back, I could feel her spine. It was such a terrible feeling, the feel of her spine through her clothes. Is this my mother still, this thin body of skin and bones? For how much longer still...?

"You can't keep on vomiting like this..." my voice wavered, "Please let's go to ER..."

Five times today... Just bile liquid, and bits of black things. Could it be lumps of blood, as I saw online when i googled "brown vomit"? I could not contain my tears, and had to wipe them. At that moment mum saw me cry for the first time in the past two months or so....

We have to return to hospital again... It's getting deadly serious...

Another cold, cold rainy day in Taipei. Perhaps it's hard to imagine how a supposedly tropical island can get cold. But it can, especially in the winter months, and especially in the northern parts of the country, where it's very damp and humid. And the Taipei area sits on a basin, surrounded by mountains, which often means wandering clouds are "captured" by the high peaks, causing the rain to accumulate over the city.

Long holiday

Long holiday As mum was vomiting three, four times this evening, I was watching a touching movie. I should have not continued watching, for the more I watched, the more I cried...

"Long holiday" (長假) the movie is called, and is about a mother from a lower class family with a husband who likes to gamble and a son who is only eight years old. She toils and toils to keep the household running, until one day she starts to nose bleed. Cancer of the liver. Chemo does not help, and the cancer spreads rapidly. She thinks of a way to tell her son, and tells him she's going on holiday, a long holiday...

 My tears flowed incessantly towards the very end. The mother has prepared letters and asked a friend to send the letter every single year on the same day till he's twenty years old... I was so overcome with emotions, emotions which have been building for two months, and which till the other day have not yet been fully released. Now, I cannot even touch mum's frail, bony body without needing to turn and quietly weep, whether inside, or very silently weep with heavy tears....

The mother passes away, and that just made me cry even more. Am I afraid of losing mum, really afraid, more afraid than I realise, now that that day seems to draw ever closer and closer? Is that why I am crying? Or am I just too sensitive and have let the emotions simmer for far too long without having a proper outlet?  I am perhaps lucky, I remember thinking to myself in that final scene when the boy is wandering around the forest calling out: "Mama... Mama... Mama..." with streaks of tears down his cheeks.

I have at least had twenty more years more time with mum, even though much of those years were spent apart...

Dreaming of dad

Mum spoke, so weakly for this is the way she speaks nowadays. "I dreamed of dad yesterday. We were so loving together, like old times. I said to him that I am unable to cook well now, but I asked him what he would like to eat..."

I listened with a quiet smile. I cried quietly even more. Mum misses dad deeply still, and perhaps in this very difficult stage, perhaps fearing that it is her final stage, she probably misses him even more, and is wondering why he is not around any more.

Tears on a blanket

Tears leaked from my eyes and moistened the new blanket . It is so very, very cold tonight, and initially mum did not want to use the blanket. She actually bought it for me, the exact same one and bought at the same time as she bought one for my ex last year. But before she could say anything else, I quickly took the blanket out of its wrapping and covered her thin body with it. The blanket is so soft, so comforting, so tender to the touch.

I lay next to her, and placed my arms around her body. Silently, foolishly, for it is only something a child with an over-imaginative mind would do, I imagined my hands had healing power. I imagined that through my palms, I could pass on my own strength and energy. I imagined I could give her the necessary nutrients to keep her body going and to give her some of my weight (though there is not much to give...), for mum is unable to eat, and has been unable to eat properly for weeks now... Naively, I imagined that my hands could heal and take away whatever was ailing her deep inside and stop her from vomiting. Images of her bending over the toilet bowl, looking so sickly and so embarrassed flashed across my mind. I closed my eyes. "Perhaps I should have never studied law, but medicine instead. I feel so helpless and don't know what I can do for you..." Even with closed eyes, I could not stop the tears.

Mum sniffed a little. If she was tearing, it was not my purpose of saying those words. The last thing I want is to add sadness to her pain and suffering.

"It hurts me so to see you vomit so much...." More tears flowed, like an incessant stream filled with emotions, filled with love, undying love and care, which though precious and heart-felt, can do so very little to vanquish the demons that are ailing mum and destroying her body bit by bit, bit by bit...

Have you ever loved someone so deeply that when they hurt, you hurt too? And you love them so  deeply, much too deeply, that you hurt perhaps even more, because on top of seeing them hurt, you hurt also from from feeling so hopeless, from being so helpless to reduce or remove the hurt of your loved one.

How painful this kind of love is! How much suffering this strong attachment is!

But is it not the test of true love; of true, unconditional love that knows no boundaries, that is expressed in so many ways, and expressed time and time again? Oh, the tears, they did flow, so quietly and so powerfully that my body shook next to her. I tried to contain my shaking and sobbing, but the hurt was so intense. The love is so very strong, defying logic or explanation. I pressed my palms against mum even tighter, and my thoughts and positive energies went to her with even more vigour.

"...And I imagine dad is hurting too, seeing you like this..." I saw dad's face before me, the same smiling face I can see everyday on that portrait of him hanging in the living room. I imagined his face contorted in grief and pain... How would he feel if he were to see mum so thin and so weak, so lifeless and so down? Perhaps he is watching us, and weeping quietly too...  

Dad, do you see my tears? Do you feel my desperation? The desperation of a child, so helpless he is only able to shed tears and imagine he has special healing powers...

A child's tears on a blanket

Tears leaked from my eyes and moistened the new blanket . It is so very, very cold tonight, and initially mum did not want to use the blanket. She actually bought it for me, the exact same one and bought at the same time as she bought one for my ex last year. But before she could say anything else, I quickly took the blanket out of its wrapping and covered her thin body with it. The blanket is so soft, so comforting, so tender to the touch.

I lay next to her, and placed my arms around her body. Silently, foolishly, for it is only something a child with an over-imaginative mind would do, I imagined my hands had healing power. I imagined that through my palms, I could pass on my own strength and energy. I imagined I could give her the necessary nutrients to keep her body going and to give her some of my weight (though there is not much to give...), for mum is unable to eat, and has been unable to eat properly for weeks now... Naively, I imagined that my hands could heal and take away whatever was ailing her deep inside and stop her from vomiting. Images of her bending over the toilet bowl, looking so sickly and so embarrassed flashed across my mind. I closed my eyes. "Perhaps I should have never studied law, but medicine instead. I feel so helpless and don't know what I can do for you..." Even with closed eyes, I could not stop the tears.

Mum sniffed a little. If she was tearing, it was not my purpose of saying those words. The last thing I want is to add sadness to her pain and suffering.

"It hurts me so to see you vomit so much...." More tears flowed, like an incessant stream filled with emotions, filled with love, undying love and care, which though precious and heart-felt, can do so very little to vanquish the demons that are ailing mum and destroying her body bit by bit, bit by bit...

Have you ever loved someone so deeply that when they hurt, you hurt too? And you love them so  deeply, much too deeply, that you hurt perhaps even more, because on top of seeing them hurt, you hurt also from from feeling so hopeless, from being so helpless to reduce or remove the hurt of your loved one.

How painful this kind of love is! How much suffering this strong attachment is!

But is it not the test of true love; of true, unconditional love that knows no boundaries, that is expressed in so many ways, and expressed time and time again? Oh, the tears, they did flow, so quietly and so powerfully that my body shook next to her. I tried to contain my shaking and sobbing, but the hurt was so intense. The love is so very strong, defying logic or explanation. I pressed my palms against mum even tighter, and my thoughts and positive energies went to her with even more vigour.

"...And I imagine dad is hurting too, seeing you like this..." I saw dad's face before me, the same smiling face I can see everyday on that portrait of him hanging in the living room. I imagined his face contorted in grief and pain... How would he feel if he were to see mum so thin and so weak, so lifeless and so down? Perhaps he is watching us, and weeping quietly too...  

Dad, do you see my tears? Do you feel my desperation? The desperation of a child, so helpless he is only able to shed tears and imagine he has special healing powers...

Worse than worsening...

It's been a while since I last cooked a proper meal for mum. And out of nowhere, she suddenly said she wanted to eat squid, and said there are some frozen ones in the fridge. I of course was delighted and jumped to the opportunity to cook something, and made some eggs and vegetables to go with boiled rice.

For a while she seemed fine, even though she ate very little. I watched mum eat, and every little bite she took, I prayed and prayed that the food would stay and give her much needed strength and nutrients. I watched her eat, and momentarily was relieved, even elated, to see her eat...

Then, an hour or so later, as she sat there on her comfortable lumbar-support chair, she made that face and horrible gagging noise which by now, after seeing and hearing it everyday almost, I know is a sign she is about to vomit again.

Indeed, one moment she is sitting in her chair, the next second she is gone. I rushed behind her to the washroom again to witness a sight that even after so many times pains my heart and soul so...

Mum crouching next to the toilet bowl, hands leaning on the rim of the bowl, brownish liquid pouring like toxic mud out of her mouth. The stench, the horridness of it all is heart-wrenchingly difficult to bear...

"You can't go on like this! We have to go back to hospital again!" I cried... I know she is reluctant to, for staying there is a torture for her, I know. But how long must she vomit, how much longer can she keep on vomiting? What else is there left of her to vomit if she keeps on ejecting everything out of her body? What will be left of my mother, my dear dear mother...? I am so afraid she will go into shock and dehydrate severely from the daily bouts of vomiting... So afraid I can hardly rest well at night, and have been moving my "bed" closer to her bedroom so I can hear her when she gets up at night.

A heavy week of hospital appointments every single damn day begins tomorrow. I wish the days and minutes would go by quicker... I wish I do not have this constant pain in my heart and do not have to live and sleep always on edge and always ready to jump up and rush to the toilet whenever mum goes in there...

What is wrong with mum? Can anyone, anything tell us what is wrong with her that she cannot eat and cannot sleep properly...?