It's not quiet the funeral, but Taiwanese tradition prescribes that before the final farewell, relatives and friends are supposed to visit the home of the deceased and pay respects at an altar dedicated to the one who has passed. (In the olden days, they would keep the body inside the home till the day of the funeral and people can come and take a "look", but nowarsays the body is usually sent to the morgue.)
I could not head down to the south as planned, as mum's daytime carer fell ill, so I had to fill in (I've been in hospital 31 hours...). And besides, as I'm not the older son, I do not necessarily have to go, for brother can represent our family by burning an incense on our behalf.
I spoke to my brother before he left, and told him a bit about the etiquettes and do's and don'ts. As death is considered an inauspicious event, those attending events like a paying respects ceremony or funeral are thought to carry "negative" qi (energies) when they leave, so must be cleansed.
"Remember to get a few "fu" 符," I told him, referring to little pieces of paper with scribbles of text on them written by priests or monks that are supposed to ward off evil spirits. The tradition is that you take some "Fu" away and once you get home, you burn the pieces of paper, put the burnt bits of paper inside a bowl with water, salt and grains of rice. And with that water, which has been "blessed", you spray around the house to cleanse the house and yourself of any bad spirits or energies that you may have "contracted" while attending a "sad" event.
My brother didn't want to listen, and he got irritated. "I don't know what you're saying! I don't understand!" But i was trying to explain the whole tradition to him. He rudely just told me to speak to his wife and passed the phone to her. He has never really been a fan of traditions, like most young people these days, and especially being away from the country, my brother is really lost when it comes to rites and rituals. Talk about being whitewashed... on the other hand have always taken a keen interest in following traditions, and find it all such a fascinating part of who I am and where I come from.
She understood exactly what I was saying, and said she also made preparations to ward off bad energies. I reiterated how important it is, wether it's superstition or not, we grew up in this culture, in this society that is heavily Influences by believes of spirits and ghosts, good and evil energies. It doesn't harm anyone to take some precautions, even if there is no basis in science or proof that these things exist (or not!) Besides, with a little baby in the house ( my nephew) and with mum being so weak physically and spiritually , it's really best not to be too lax about observing these beliefs (or superstitions, whatever you wish to call them...)
21 April 2012
Fall
I took mum into the washroom, and closed the door behind me. I've done this a dozen times, but each time I'm ever vigilant and stand close by the door of the washroom to make sure I can hear mum if she calls me.
As the nurse asked me to measure the quantity of mum's urine, I placed a potty on top of the toilet lid for mum to use. Almost as soon as she sat down, I heard her cry for help.
I opened the door to see mum bent over, her hands supporting her body to prevent her from tipping over. I rushed to help her, but she slip off the toilet bowl and sat on the floor, her pants were still around her ankles. It was such a sorry, and painful sight...
Mum could not get up. She tried standing up, but she could not. A part of her urine which was in the potty spilled onto the floor, and she got some on her hospital-issue pants. The stench was very bad, and due to the blockage of her bile duct, and digestive system generally, her urine was particularly reddish, like iodine, and immediately dyed her pants.
I panicked and tried to pull mum up from the floor by putting my hands under her arms, but I could not. Her legs just would not stand. "I have no strength... No strength..." Again, it was such a sorry sight seeing mum sit on the floor with her pants around her ankles, and I am sure for her it wad particularly humiliating for her own son to see her almost fall and be half naked on the floor and unable to get up.
We struggled a bit, and eventually she grabbed onto bars installed around the toilet and together with support from me, she managed to get onto her wobbly feet again. We walked ever so slowly and quietly back to her bed. She lay down and curled up in a foetal position.
There seemed to be moisture in the corner of her eye. I suspect from the scare just now in the washroom, buy perhaps also from the huge blow to her dignity. She looked at ms with scared eyes, and I stroked her hand to reassure her. "It doesn't matter. It's over now..." She looked so helpless. She is so helpless.
I went back into the washroom to clear up the mess and to wash off some of the urine that had got onto my slippers. "Poor mum..."
My poor mum... How the illness has robbed her of much of her independence, mobility and increasingly also dignity...
As the nurse asked me to measure the quantity of mum's urine, I placed a potty on top of the toilet lid for mum to use. Almost as soon as she sat down, I heard her cry for help.
I opened the door to see mum bent over, her hands supporting her body to prevent her from tipping over. I rushed to help her, but she slip off the toilet bowl and sat on the floor, her pants were still around her ankles. It was such a sorry, and painful sight...
Mum could not get up. She tried standing up, but she could not. A part of her urine which was in the potty spilled onto the floor, and she got some on her hospital-issue pants. The stench was very bad, and due to the blockage of her bile duct, and digestive system generally, her urine was particularly reddish, like iodine, and immediately dyed her pants.
I panicked and tried to pull mum up from the floor by putting my hands under her arms, but I could not. Her legs just would not stand. "I have no strength... No strength..." Again, it was such a sorry sight seeing mum sit on the floor with her pants around her ankles, and I am sure for her it wad particularly humiliating for her own son to see her almost fall and be half naked on the floor and unable to get up.
We struggled a bit, and eventually she grabbed onto bars installed around the toilet and together with support from me, she managed to get onto her wobbly feet again. We walked ever so slowly and quietly back to her bed. She lay down and curled up in a foetal position.
There seemed to be moisture in the corner of her eye. I suspect from the scare just now in the washroom, buy perhaps also from the huge blow to her dignity. She looked at ms with scared eyes, and I stroked her hand to reassure her. "It doesn't matter. It's over now..." She looked so helpless. She is so helpless.
I went back into the washroom to clear up the mess and to wash off some of the urine that had got onto my slippers. "Poor mum..."
My poor mum... How the illness has robbed her of much of her independence, mobility and increasingly also dignity...
Erotic dream
It's been a while since I last had such an intense erotic dream.
I was in a school building ( perhaps it my was my high school?), and sitting around a classroom. Then he entered the room and leaned in close.
He said how much he missed me, and before I knew it, he began kissing me passionately. I was so lost in his embrace, lost in the sweetness of his touch and tongue, lost in the way his voice softly called my name and repeatedly said how long he has been waiting for this moment with me. He looked at me with his grey, mesmerising with such passion, lust and longing.
Who was "he"? Someone from my previous job back in Europe, someone I've not met for almost three years. We worked together, and he was a really supportive not only at work, but also when I was going through a very difficult time (I lost my dad half way through my job...). I always found him very attractive, and liked his sense of humour. Though he's not gay.
But in my dream he was, and he was so into me. How very comforting, and what a beautiful escape from the realities of life at the hospital....
20 April 2012
Yellow stains
Couldn't sleep much last night, as mum kept on waking up to use the washroom. At one point, close to five in the morning, she woke me up but it was already too late. I could see her pants were stained yellow. She said she couldn't hold it in.
"Why didn't you wake me up? And don't say it's because you didn't want to wake me up because I'm sleeping!" I was upset, and saddened. Would you not be to see a loved one wet herself? At this stage in her condition, and yet she still has difficulty to ask for help to take care of very basic needs. But I can imagine perhaps she feels very ashamed needing to ask her child for help so much, especially to pee. How a person must feel to gradually lose control of your bladder. Is it chronic incontinence? Or due to the fact that the doctor put mum back on IV drips again after a few day of rest? I noticed that whenever mum is on IV, she needs to go to the washroom a lot, and sometimes it comes very quickly she cannot hold it in...
Nobody should have to wet themselves and wear moist pants to sleep. I told Mum that. How very undignified, how very humiliating. Mum is worth much more than this, much, much more...
"Why didn't you wake me up? And don't say it's because you didn't want to wake me up because I'm sleeping!" I was upset, and saddened. Would you not be to see a loved one wet herself? At this stage in her condition, and yet she still has difficulty to ask for help to take care of very basic needs. But I can imagine perhaps she feels very ashamed needing to ask her child for help so much, especially to pee. How a person must feel to gradually lose control of your bladder. Is it chronic incontinence? Or due to the fact that the doctor put mum back on IV drips again after a few day of rest? I noticed that whenever mum is on IV, she needs to go to the washroom a lot, and sometimes it comes very quickly she cannot hold it in...
Nobody should have to wet themselves and wear moist pants to sleep. I told Mum that. How very undignified, how very humiliating. Mum is worth much more than this, much, much more...
Motivation
Or the lack thereof...
With each passing day, I feel my will and resolve being eroded more and more. Hospital, illness, pain, suffering, frustration, deterioration... So many negative influences and emotions, so many things beyond my control. I am losing it...
What is there to look forward to? What am I living for? Where can I find solace and comfort besides in closing my eyes and lying down to sleep?
What am I doing? What am I doing really?
There is such a deep, deep void inside my heart and soul, I fear one day I will collapse from the inside out...
With each passing day, I feel my will and resolve being eroded more and more. Hospital, illness, pain, suffering, frustration, deterioration... So many negative influences and emotions, so many things beyond my control. I am losing it...
What is there to look forward to? What am I living for? Where can I find solace and comfort besides in closing my eyes and lying down to sleep?
What am I doing? What am I doing really?
There is such a deep, deep void inside my heart and soul, I fear one day I will collapse from the inside out...
Dream
We went to a remote area to find this miracle doctor. A famed surgeon who could cure cancer, who could go in and remove everything in one go. Mum had so much faith in the guy after she heard it from a lady at a shop.
I googled online for his name... What was his name? Why did I spend hours looking for it but could not find it. Rumour had it he is located somewhere near Linkou, an area near the international area, where there is also a massive medical hospital. But I could not find him. With more searching and playing with words online, I eventually managed to track down an address and a phone number.
I had visions of him opening up a person's body. It was a soldier for some reason. And from inside the body, this famed surgeon took out bones. Bones that were not belonging to the person whose stomach had been somehow opened (not cut open, but just "opened...") They were bones belonging to a child r a baby...
Mum and I ventured to this place. It was not a hospital, but a little shack on the side of the road, situated at a busy intersection. How disappointed we were. But on the shack was a big billboard bearing the surgeon's name. White characters against a brown background.
It was the most bizarre dream... So intense, so filled with hope in the beginning, and then everything just broke down at the end with a great big disappointment...
I googled online for his name... What was his name? Why did I spend hours looking for it but could not find it. Rumour had it he is located somewhere near Linkou, an area near the international area, where there is also a massive medical hospital. But I could not find him. With more searching and playing with words online, I eventually managed to track down an address and a phone number.
I had visions of him opening up a person's body. It was a soldier for some reason. And from inside the body, this famed surgeon took out bones. Bones that were not belonging to the person whose stomach had been somehow opened (not cut open, but just "opened...") They were bones belonging to a child r a baby...
Mum and I ventured to this place. It was not a hospital, but a little shack on the side of the road, situated at a busy intersection. How disappointed we were. But on the shack was a big billboard bearing the surgeon's name. White characters against a brown background.
It was the most bizarre dream... So intense, so filled with hope in the beginning, and then everything just broke down at the end with a great big disappointment...
19 April 2012
Congrats
Just got an email. My thesis has been approved.
This means I'm on my way to graduating in June.
How exciting...
This means I'm on my way to graduating in June.
How exciting...
Nth night
How many nights has mum spent at the hospital? How many nights have I slept here with her, waking up every so often to see if she needs anything?
I do not lament my fate, I do not complain what I need to do. I massage mum's back, I rub her shoulders with a gentle smile, and as I do it I wish and hope that the pain she feels will be reduced and that she can sleep well. I take her to the washroom, I "sniff" her to see if she's wet herself (or worse...) because she is my mother, and whatever condition she is in, she deserves to live life comfortably, with dignity and be clean.
One day, I will need to let all of this go. One day, I must learn to turn my back on all this, and let someone else take over. Turning my back on mum does not mean I do not care anymore.
Because I do care, I do care so much because I wish her the best and I wish her to be comfortable and free from suffering. But I have things I must accomplish, I have goals I must pursue, and I must do them for myself, I must do them for mum to see that I can live on my own, and I can take care of myself no matter what.
Sleep, mum, sleep... I'm here only a few steps from you whenever you need me, I'm here for whatever you need, and all you need to do is call my name.
But you and I know one day, I will have to go away, and I hope you will not be too sad. You need only call my name, and I'll be back again.
I do not lament my fate, I do not complain what I need to do. I massage mum's back, I rub her shoulders with a gentle smile, and as I do it I wish and hope that the pain she feels will be reduced and that she can sleep well. I take her to the washroom, I "sniff" her to see if she's wet herself (or worse...) because she is my mother, and whatever condition she is in, she deserves to live life comfortably, with dignity and be clean.
One day, I will need to let all of this go. One day, I must learn to turn my back on all this, and let someone else take over. Turning my back on mum does not mean I do not care anymore.
Because I do care, I do care so much because I wish her the best and I wish her to be comfortable and free from suffering. But I have things I must accomplish, I have goals I must pursue, and I must do them for myself, I must do them for mum to see that I can live on my own, and I can take care of myself no matter what.
Sleep, mum, sleep... I'm here only a few steps from you whenever you need me, I'm here for whatever you need, and all you need to do is call my name.
But you and I know one day, I will have to go away, and I hope you will not be too sad. You need only call my name, and I'll be back again.
Exhausted
Mum said she wanted to sit on the chair for a bit while she had a late dinner. I took the opportunity to lie down in her bed. Quietly, softly in my heart, I "blessed" the bed and hoped that it will allow mum to rest well, and to recover so that she can leave the hospital. Unknowingly, I fell asleep...
It was half past ten when I woke up again. I fell asleep even though I just wanted to take a little nap before hitting the books. Mum didn't wake me up because she saw how tired I was. But I don't think I was tired, at least not physically, for much of the day when I went home to rest that's what I did: I rested, in bed, drifted in and out of sleep, watching reruns of my favourite sitcom online (Will and Grace) or listening to the radio. So lethargic I have become, just lying there in bed watching a comedy or listening to talk shows and drifting in and out of sleep...
I am tired and frustrated. And I am sure mum is too. After getting our hopes up to head home (and I even began taking a suitcase of things home this morning...) the doctor came back and said mum's latest blood result revealed a below average red blood cell count, and an elevated bile level. The former can be fixed with better nutrition and the 500cc of blood transfusion, but the latter is trickier. There may be a number of reasons why her bile level is abnormally high...
The ultra-high nutrition IV (which was yellow in colour, btw...) that the doctor gave her a day or two before her surgery may have given her much strength and needed nutrients, but it also causes strain on the liver. With time, mum's skin and the whites of her eyes began to grow yellower. Though the yellowing has faded a bit, her skin is still quite a sickly yellow tone. The liver may be damaged from having to process the high level of nutrients, and it may take up to three weeks for the liver to slowly repair itself... Three weeks! It could be that there is just an accumulation of bile after the surgery that did not pass through the normal way through the intestines, and so the bile is staying in her body and turning her body yellow. This blockage of the bile duct could be resolved with the insertion of a duct to lead the excess bile out of the body. But it sounds like a complicated (and painful?) procedure...
So mum today looks more sickly than before, even though she has been able to eat a bit more than usual. She also said she felt very cold, which may be caused by the blood transfusion. She not only looked and felt more ill, she also was sad not being able to go home as planned.
And where is my brother now? In another part of the country, away at a time when mum is again having complications with her health...
I really am tired...
It was half past ten when I woke up again. I fell asleep even though I just wanted to take a little nap before hitting the books. Mum didn't wake me up because she saw how tired I was. But I don't think I was tired, at least not physically, for much of the day when I went home to rest that's what I did: I rested, in bed, drifted in and out of sleep, watching reruns of my favourite sitcom online (Will and Grace) or listening to the radio. So lethargic I have become, just lying there in bed watching a comedy or listening to talk shows and drifting in and out of sleep...
I am tired and frustrated. And I am sure mum is too. After getting our hopes up to head home (and I even began taking a suitcase of things home this morning...) the doctor came back and said mum's latest blood result revealed a below average red blood cell count, and an elevated bile level. The former can be fixed with better nutrition and the 500cc of blood transfusion, but the latter is trickier. There may be a number of reasons why her bile level is abnormally high...
The ultra-high nutrition IV (which was yellow in colour, btw...) that the doctor gave her a day or two before her surgery may have given her much strength and needed nutrients, but it also causes strain on the liver. With time, mum's skin and the whites of her eyes began to grow yellower. Though the yellowing has faded a bit, her skin is still quite a sickly yellow tone. The liver may be damaged from having to process the high level of nutrients, and it may take up to three weeks for the liver to slowly repair itself... Three weeks! It could be that there is just an accumulation of bile after the surgery that did not pass through the normal way through the intestines, and so the bile is staying in her body and turning her body yellow. This blockage of the bile duct could be resolved with the insertion of a duct to lead the excess bile out of the body. But it sounds like a complicated (and painful?) procedure...
So mum today looks more sickly than before, even though she has been able to eat a bit more than usual. She also said she felt very cold, which may be caused by the blood transfusion. She not only looked and felt more ill, she also was sad not being able to go home as planned.
And where is my brother now? In another part of the country, away at a time when mum is again having complications with her health...
I really am tired...
18 April 2012
Blood transfusion
Is there such a thing as coincidence? Why did I just accidentally turn on the tv and tune into a programme talking about blood donations and transfusions? There was a lady on the show who said she distrusted the blood bank, and if needed would offer her own blood to a member of her family.
Mum just said she cannot yet go home. Her red blood cell count is far too low, so it is dangerous for her to be discharged. The doctor wants to do a blood transfusion. I raised an issue and said I'll come down for them to take my own blood. But I relented... I don't want to make a fuss, don't want to add more trouble. But to be honest I'm a bit afraid.
Mum said she understands the risks, especially after a scandal recently when someone was infected with HIV through a blood transfusion. But mum says the hospital should be especially vigilant now, and she is alright with the procedure. So I let it drop.
She sounded very down, I can imagine why, for she was so looking forward to sleeping at home today. I even came back to make her bed and clean up whatever I can.
But she looked very tired, and us indeed still very frail...
Mum just said she cannot yet go home. Her red blood cell count is far too low, so it is dangerous for her to be discharged. The doctor wants to do a blood transfusion. I raised an issue and said I'll come down for them to take my own blood. But I relented... I don't want to make a fuss, don't want to add more trouble. But to be honest I'm a bit afraid.
Mum said she understands the risks, especially after a scandal recently when someone was infected with HIV through a blood transfusion. But mum says the hospital should be especially vigilant now, and she is alright with the procedure. So I let it drop.
She sounded very down, I can imagine why, for she was so looking forward to sleeping at home today. I even came back to make her bed and clean up whatever I can.
But she looked very tired, and us indeed still very frail...
Mess
Slept only a few hours after a late night of studying. Woke up at close to seven as the nurse came in, followed by mum's carer in the hospital. Didn't really manage to sleep more as the ward was coming to life at the start of a new day.
I wanted to wait for the doctor to come, but he did not show up today. So I grabbed a suitcase of stuff I packed earlier and left. Most likely mum can be discharged today, and slowly I must take some of the many things I've brought to the hospital home.
Arrived home to the sound of my nephew crying. He cried and cried, obviously very unwell. Before just his dad was ill, now his mother too, and inevitably my nephew also caught the flu and coughs. I kept on telling my brother when he was coughing and showing symptoms to put on a medical mask, but he wouldn't listen. And look what happened now...
The house was a mess. Clothes everywhere, suitcases strewn on the floor, bowls and baby things here and there. I know they are busy with the baby, I know they are both ill, but must it be so messy? They left within an hour of me arriving, all three of them heading to my sister-in-law's place in another part of the country. It's a good thing, as mum, if she is able to come home today, cannot afford to fall ill. With all three of them coughing and being bed-stricken, it's best if they were not here to make this a contaminated zone. I put on a mask as soon as I got home, because my brother despite my earlier warnings still did not put on a mask...
It's unfortunate, ad bad timing, though, mum about to be discharged, and coming home to just me again. My brother and his family came back, but they are gone again, so it's almost as if they didn't come back at all. The only sign of their return is the mess and unmade bed in their room, all many colourful stuffed toys belonging to my cousin lying everywhere...
I wanted to wait for the doctor to come, but he did not show up today. So I grabbed a suitcase of stuff I packed earlier and left. Most likely mum can be discharged today, and slowly I must take some of the many things I've brought to the hospital home.
Arrived home to the sound of my nephew crying. He cried and cried, obviously very unwell. Before just his dad was ill, now his mother too, and inevitably my nephew also caught the flu and coughs. I kept on telling my brother when he was coughing and showing symptoms to put on a medical mask, but he wouldn't listen. And look what happened now...
The house was a mess. Clothes everywhere, suitcases strewn on the floor, bowls and baby things here and there. I know they are busy with the baby, I know they are both ill, but must it be so messy? They left within an hour of me arriving, all three of them heading to my sister-in-law's place in another part of the country. It's a good thing, as mum, if she is able to come home today, cannot afford to fall ill. With all three of them coughing and being bed-stricken, it's best if they were not here to make this a contaminated zone. I put on a mask as soon as I got home, because my brother despite my earlier warnings still did not put on a mask...
It's unfortunate, ad bad timing, though, mum about to be discharged, and coming home to just me again. My brother and his family came back, but they are gone again, so it's almost as if they didn't come back at all. The only sign of their return is the mess and unmade bed in their room, all many colourful stuffed toys belonging to my cousin lying everywhere...
Making a start
The large text book I ordered and asked to be forwarded to me by my colleagues finally arrived. I guess before this I had an excuse not to begun studying for an exam that's taking place in 25 days-- just a little over three weeks. but now I have the necessary materials, I need to get cracking.
I made a start this evening. A three hour study session at the dressing table in mum's room at the hospital as she slept. It's just the introductory chapter, one of around ten I still need to cover, but it's a start. There's a lot of materials to cover, and I just hope I can do so before the time runs out and before I head back to Canada to sit my exam.
But in my mind, I'm so preoccupied about taking that long bike-road trip I've been planning and dreaming of, and I'm concerned also with everyone being home now, there won't be a quiet place for me to study... I'm very tempted in some ways to just board a plane and fly home, to the peace and quiet of my own little world, to study...
I'll have to see what I decide to do. But at least I made a start already, and mum looked at me with a lot of pride as I began to read and take notes.
I made a start this evening. A three hour study session at the dressing table in mum's room at the hospital as she slept. It's just the introductory chapter, one of around ten I still need to cover, but it's a start. There's a lot of materials to cover, and I just hope I can do so before the time runs out and before I head back to Canada to sit my exam.
But in my mind, I'm so preoccupied about taking that long bike-road trip I've been planning and dreaming of, and I'm concerned also with everyone being home now, there won't be a quiet place for me to study... I'm very tempted in some ways to just board a plane and fly home, to the peace and quiet of my own little world, to study...
I'll have to see what I decide to do. But at least I made a start already, and mum looked at me with a lot of pride as I began to read and take notes.
What's the point?
Sometimes you must ask yourself what is the point of doing so much, of taking so much effort to get people together when all they want to is feel bitter and angry instead of enjoying whatever precious time there is together?
Why don't I just go off and live my own happy life, build my own family and dreams instead of being caught in the middle of misunderstanding and an ongoing real life drama of pride and prejudice?
I think I'll do just that. Go off and be selfish and be happy. Isn't that what everyone else is doing?
Why don't I just go off and live my own happy life, build my own family and dreams instead of being caught in the middle of misunderstanding and an ongoing real life drama of pride and prejudice?
I think I'll do just that. Go off and be selfish and be happy. Isn't that what everyone else is doing?
Dreamy afternoon
Having slept only a few hours at the hospital last night, because of very severe stomach cramps (I'm certain related to my uncle's passing and the conversations I had with mum about that...), I came home and wanted to take a nap. But the chance to accompany my little nephew to a children's clinic seemed too fun to miss, so I went with them.
It was pleasant to push my nephew around, pretending that I'm a dad. Of course, the real dad and mum walked behind me, hand in hand, and I was just an uncle trying to imagine what it's like to have a cute little child. As I pushed him around, I dreamed one day of having a child (or two?) of my own... How I could pamper the child, showed her/him with warmth, fun and love, teach him/her about life and the amazing things of this world. Somehow, imagining the conversation I would be having with my partner, like the ones my brother and sister-in-law have about raising the child ("He's sweating! He's too warm!" or "Oh, look at him crawl and flip over!" or "oh, look at him smiling!" or "Watch out! He's biting that thing he found on the floor!") made me smile and smile...
The doctor diagnosed my nephew with an inflammation of the intestines. Nothing too serious, but he'll need to cut down on trying out new foods for a few days. Just soupy rice and a bit of dried shredded pork and rice crackers for him now. And of course some prescribed medicine.
I was exhausted when we got back home at around ten in the morning, and dived into bed. I slept, but dreamed and dreamed a dozen dreams. I know my ex featured in one of them, but details are non-existent. I was even more tired when finally I woke up close to two.
I woke up to the sound of coughing and saw my brother and sister-in-law lie in their den. First my brother caught the cold, and now she's also hit the jackpot. Mum's in hospital, brother and his wife are ill, and so is my nephew.
I really need to be very careful...
It was pleasant to push my nephew around, pretending that I'm a dad. Of course, the real dad and mum walked behind me, hand in hand, and I was just an uncle trying to imagine what it's like to have a cute little child. As I pushed him around, I dreamed one day of having a child (or two?) of my own... How I could pamper the child, showed her/him with warmth, fun and love, teach him/her about life and the amazing things of this world. Somehow, imagining the conversation I would be having with my partner, like the ones my brother and sister-in-law have about raising the child ("He's sweating! He's too warm!" or "Oh, look at him crawl and flip over!" or "oh, look at him smiling!" or "Watch out! He's biting that thing he found on the floor!") made me smile and smile...
The doctor diagnosed my nephew with an inflammation of the intestines. Nothing too serious, but he'll need to cut down on trying out new foods for a few days. Just soupy rice and a bit of dried shredded pork and rice crackers for him now. And of course some prescribed medicine.
I was exhausted when we got back home at around ten in the morning, and dived into bed. I slept, but dreamed and dreamed a dozen dreams. I know my ex featured in one of them, but details are non-existent. I was even more tired when finally I woke up close to two.
I woke up to the sound of coughing and saw my brother and sister-in-law lie in their den. First my brother caught the cold, and now she's also hit the jackpot. Mum's in hospital, brother and his wife are ill, and so is my nephew.
I really need to be very careful...
17 April 2012
Little Rabbit is ill again...
We don't know what it is, perhaps the food or the sudden change of climate, but my nephew's been having diarrhoea since yesterday. This morning, there were three diaper-ful of soft poo.
Energy-wise, he's as jumpy and loud as before, and he's not been vomiting, so that rules out any entrovirus that's been going around young children. Maybe it's just something he ate, as my sister-in-law's been feeding him more and more foods we eat, and less now milk formula.
Hopefully he'll be back to himself soon
Energy-wise, he's as jumpy and loud as before, and he's not been vomiting, so that rules out any entrovirus that's been going around young children. Maybe it's just something he ate, as my sister-in-law's been feeding him more and more foods we eat, and less now milk formula.
Hopefully he'll be back to himself soon
Delivering the news
I waited for an opportune moment to break the news. But when is it a good time to tell someone a member of the family has passed away? When is a good time to tell someone who has been struggling with life and has barely fought off death about the passing of another?
I thought of ways to say it without being too shocking or dramatic. The anxiety was eating me, and I had a hard time eating ad digesting dinner. I broke the news as I led mum out her room for a little walk around the ward.
"Mum, I have to tell you something about uncle..." Dad's older sister's husband.
Mum immediately panicked. Her eyes opened up wide, as if afraid of the bad news. "What's wrong with him? What is happening?"
"He left..." We Taiwanese are good with euphemisms, and nowhere throughout the conversation were the words "death" or "dead" ever mentioned.
Mum stood there and her shoulders sank. She closed her eyes and fought back tears. We walked in silence, heavy in thought. The silence was interrupted by a phone call from brother which I needed to pick up, for earlier he told me my nephew seems to have fallen ill and is having a bad case of diarrhoea...
I looked at mum throughout my conversation with brother. She looked so sad, so shaken by the news of my uncle's passing. I held her hand to comfort her.
"He was such a kind and good person..." I know, it's cliche to say something like this about the deceased, but in this case, it is very true. Mum was so shocked, because it all happened so fast. From diagnosis to treatment, to reoccurrence and to the cancer taking him away all within a year or so. My mind seems trapped and unable to forget when I saw him last year at brother's wedding, when he looked so lost and so tormented beyond speech after his first chemo session. And now he is gone.
"Your uncle and aunt had a beautiful relationship. Your aunt must be devastated..." It's true, they seemed to do everything together, and little has changed in their household ever since I have known them (thus since I was a little, little boy...). They would walk off to bed at night hand in hand. They would wake up every morning and go out and exercise together. They would cook together, sit in the study and read next to one another. Every time I visit them and stay over, you can expect the same routine, the same kind of stability between the two. And often I looked at their marriage, while all around me marriages were failing, and imagined that perhaps theirs is the exemplary one.
"He cared so much about me, and often wrote to me..." My uncle certainly did, and sometimes functioned as a sort of messenger because my aunt (his wife) has always looked down on my mum (for various reasons...). But my uncle never was drawn into that and always stayed neutral and could always give good advice and always had a kind word to say.
I don't know if the thought of her own fragility crossed her mind. I would imagine it must have... I patted her hand and said little. Though, appropriate or not, I did want to tell mum, using uncle's passing as an example, that she should really treasure life, especially after all the fighting she has done... Especially all the fighting she is still doing.
Mum agreed that I should travel to to the south of the country to pay my respects as early as tomorrow. It need not be said, but when my second aunt (dad's first younger sister) called earlier today crying, I was thinking the same thing. She was informing me and though unsaid, as the a member of the younger generation, it is expected that I go and pay my respects and visit my aunt and cousins to express my condolences, as well give a "white envelop"-- an amount of money that is traditionally given to the bereaving family when someone passes away.
I need to head down very soon, either tomorrow or the day after as brother seems to be too ill and needs more rest.
I thought of ways to say it without being too shocking or dramatic. The anxiety was eating me, and I had a hard time eating ad digesting dinner. I broke the news as I led mum out her room for a little walk around the ward.
"Mum, I have to tell you something about uncle..." Dad's older sister's husband.
Mum immediately panicked. Her eyes opened up wide, as if afraid of the bad news. "What's wrong with him? What is happening?"
"He left..." We Taiwanese are good with euphemisms, and nowhere throughout the conversation were the words "death" or "dead" ever mentioned.
Mum stood there and her shoulders sank. She closed her eyes and fought back tears. We walked in silence, heavy in thought. The silence was interrupted by a phone call from brother which I needed to pick up, for earlier he told me my nephew seems to have fallen ill and is having a bad case of diarrhoea...
I looked at mum throughout my conversation with brother. She looked so sad, so shaken by the news of my uncle's passing. I held her hand to comfort her.
"He was such a kind and good person..." I know, it's cliche to say something like this about the deceased, but in this case, it is very true. Mum was so shocked, because it all happened so fast. From diagnosis to treatment, to reoccurrence and to the cancer taking him away all within a year or so. My mind seems trapped and unable to forget when I saw him last year at brother's wedding, when he looked so lost and so tormented beyond speech after his first chemo session. And now he is gone.
"Your uncle and aunt had a beautiful relationship. Your aunt must be devastated..." It's true, they seemed to do everything together, and little has changed in their household ever since I have known them (thus since I was a little, little boy...). They would walk off to bed at night hand in hand. They would wake up every morning and go out and exercise together. They would cook together, sit in the study and read next to one another. Every time I visit them and stay over, you can expect the same routine, the same kind of stability between the two. And often I looked at their marriage, while all around me marriages were failing, and imagined that perhaps theirs is the exemplary one.
"He cared so much about me, and often wrote to me..." My uncle certainly did, and sometimes functioned as a sort of messenger because my aunt (his wife) has always looked down on my mum (for various reasons...). But my uncle never was drawn into that and always stayed neutral and could always give good advice and always had a kind word to say.
I don't know if the thought of her own fragility crossed her mind. I would imagine it must have... I patted her hand and said little. Though, appropriate or not, I did want to tell mum, using uncle's passing as an example, that she should really treasure life, especially after all the fighting she has done... Especially all the fighting she is still doing.
Mum agreed that I should travel to to the south of the country to pay my respects as early as tomorrow. It need not be said, but when my second aunt (dad's first younger sister) called earlier today crying, I was thinking the same thing. She was informing me and though unsaid, as the a member of the younger generation, it is expected that I go and pay my respects and visit my aunt and cousins to express my condolences, as well give a "white envelop"-- an amount of money that is traditionally given to the bereaving family when someone passes away.
I need to head down very soon, either tomorrow or the day after as brother seems to be too ill and needs more rest.
One by one...
One by one, the dear ones in my life are being taken away by cancer...
One by one, the dear ones in my life are falling and fading...
One by one, the heavy tears are falling.
One by one, the dear ones in my life are falling and fading...
One by one, the heavy tears are falling.
Rest in peace...
I got a phone call, and my aunt was crying as she delivered the news "Your uncle... he's gone..."
A heavy, heavy feeling flooded my heart... I did not have the chance to speak to him or see him recently, and my mind kept on returning to that day last year when I last saw him, when I promised I would go see him again...
He was such a kind and gentle man, always so understanding, such a simple man, who was a teacher, who never seemed to get angry or upset about anything. He ate very simply, bland, healthy home-made meals, woke up early every morning, exercised and did not have any 'bad' habits. Every so often, he would send my mum newspaper clippings of inspirational articles and write letters to her to encourage her. He's been doing that when my parents became estranged, and continued doing that as mum continued to fight cancer over the past few years.Yet cruel cancer found him too, and has now taken him away...
As a child, he always welcomed me into his home. I remember many evenings sitting in the living room and listening to him talk about history and the intricacies of Taiwanese culture and language. A couple of times, he took me to the rice-farming village where he grew up to experience and see life in the countryside. And I remember when I was younger, he would take me to a park near the railroads and accompany me as I watched in awe at the trains speeding by...
I know he was in the ICU for almost two weeks, as he caught a lung infection, and has been severely weakened by the latest chemo treatment. The other day, I was just thinking about visiting him on my planned bike trip soon. But now I can't even do that anymore...
"Take care of yourself," my aunt said amid tears and sobbing, "And tell your mother to take good care..."
Farewell, dear uncle...
May you finally find eternal peace and be liberated from all sorts of physical and mental pain and suffering...
Corruption that stinks to high heaven!
"What?! $25,000 for what?" I asked, shocked at the sudden and unexpected mention of a large sum of money, of over US$800.
"It's a fee," the agent for hiring a foreign carer said.
"That much?" I was livid. All this time j was under the impression that all I needed was get mum's neurosurgeon to fill in a assessment form and that the hospital would then give the ok to hire a stay-at-home carer to attend to mum's needs should she need help as the mobility of her hands and arms deteriorate. But now I'm being asked to make a "contribution".
"And where does the money go to?" I demanded. My respect for the agent skydived to contempt. I was disgusted. Perhaps I am too innocent of the ways of the world, and perhaps In particular, innocent of the ways of the "Eastern" world (for there are those who accuse me of being "whitewashed"...), but never have I encountered such a blatant demand for a bribe.
"To a hospital administrator," the agent said. I wanted to ask the name, but I doubt I would get it. I don't know for sure, but suspect that most likely the agent will take a share too. And to think this is a public hospital, one that is well respected in the region for its art, one that was voted "Most Trusted Brand" by Reader's Digest... Despite all those government campaigns with, for example, the symbolic image of a "rotten apple", to alert people of the ills of corruption, here I was being told that I need to engage in a little "kicking back", I have to add some "oil to grease the cogs".
I have heard of scandals before involving high profile politicians, but really I am disgusted that as a normal civilian, as someone just trying to get approval for my own mother to hire a foreign carer, I will have to endorse such a despicable practice. Has the agent no shame? Has the faceless administrator no heavy conscience when he takes the "brown envelop" and puts it in his own pocket? As i said to mum, it is these corrupt scum who turn this country into such a disappointing mess. Disgusting, absolutely disgusting, cursed blood-sucking leeches that really taint the reputation and good name of a hospital I till now have held in such high esteem.
"It's the way to do it," the agent said as-a-matter-of-factly, which made me even more livid.
"Is this the way you do things? Do we have to do such things?" I told him I've been in touch with another agent, and that there was no mention of such "fees". He told me I can go to that agent, and our conversation ended there and then.
I immediately called the agent I have been dealing with before mum found another one today recommended by her youngest sister. Hitherto, the guy has asserted that in my mum's case it should not be a problem to get approval to hire a foreign carer. And I asked him what if it is a problem. "Then we'll have to find an alternative way..." he told me. And I understood what he meant.
"So how much? How much do we need to pay?"
With this one, it was NT35-40,000 (US$1200-1500). I again became insulted, for it was simply robbery in broad daylight, and I was not going to take any part of this. I told him, in an attempt to humiliate him, that the previous agent I spoke to was cheaper.
There must be an alternative, an alternative other than having to pay money-greedy agents and administrators who have no soul, right?
16 April 2012
Grandma
I saw my late grandma (dad's mother), perhaps for the first time ever in my dream. It was in her old home, the one where dad and his five other siblings grew up and lived in a shack of around 40 square metres right above the bicycle repair workshop my grandpa worked in till his death...
My grandma was showing me around, smiling so beautifully, despite her artificial set of teeth, like I remembered her. I spent so many summers at her place, and would often accompany her to the hospital as my aunts ad uncles had to work. I am sure it was from her that I picked up and soon improved my Taiwanese speaking abilities, for it was the only thing she understood (besides a little Japanese...). I remember she would often cook congee, for she had bad teeth, and there was a simple egg dish that she made especially well, and that still sticks to my memory. She and I would just sit around the old bike repair shop, and she would invite passerbys in for tea. So warm was she, so kind and generous...
She had liver disease that got worse and worse, and I remember her stomach getting bigger and bigger, filling with fluids she could not expel. I thought at the time she was pregnant again (silly, ignorant me!), but in truth she was in a lot of discomfort.
In the dream, she appeared so health and had no trouble walking up and down the stairs. I forget now what she said, but I remember she smiled so much, and the house looked as I remember it as a little boy. The bedroom where I used to take an afternoon nap in, the same one where dad and mum spent their wedding night... The other bedroom where my aunt told me all six children had to cramp onto one bed to sleep at night. And in the dream, I also saw the little balcony, full of pots of plants and ferns, and where grandma used to hang clothes out to dry.
I don't remember much else from the dream. But I suspect it may be triggered by the fact that my ex wrote to me, saying that his nan (his dad's
Mom) is in hospital.
It was a beautiful, pleasant dream for a change, and made me remember again the humble beginnings of where I came from, and what a warm-hearted and kind grandma I was so fortunate to have growing up...
My grandma was showing me around, smiling so beautifully, despite her artificial set of teeth, like I remembered her. I spent so many summers at her place, and would often accompany her to the hospital as my aunts ad uncles had to work. I am sure it was from her that I picked up and soon improved my Taiwanese speaking abilities, for it was the only thing she understood (besides a little Japanese...). I remember she would often cook congee, for she had bad teeth, and there was a simple egg dish that she made especially well, and that still sticks to my memory. She and I would just sit around the old bike repair shop, and she would invite passerbys in for tea. So warm was she, so kind and generous...
She had liver disease that got worse and worse, and I remember her stomach getting bigger and bigger, filling with fluids she could not expel. I thought at the time she was pregnant again (silly, ignorant me!), but in truth she was in a lot of discomfort.
In the dream, she appeared so health and had no trouble walking up and down the stairs. I forget now what she said, but I remember she smiled so much, and the house looked as I remember it as a little boy. The bedroom where I used to take an afternoon nap in, the same one where dad and mum spent their wedding night... The other bedroom where my aunt told me all six children had to cramp onto one bed to sleep at night. And in the dream, I also saw the little balcony, full of pots of plants and ferns, and where grandma used to hang clothes out to dry.
I don't remember much else from the dream. But I suspect it may be triggered by the fact that my ex wrote to me, saying that his nan (his dad's
Mom) is in hospital.
It was a beautiful, pleasant dream for a change, and made me remember again the humble beginnings of where I came from, and what a warm-hearted and kind grandma I was so fortunate to have growing up...
Lost love
"Child, why are you crying?"
"Because I lost my love..."
"Do you love him?"
"Yes, I do. Very much..."
"Does he love you?"
"He did. But not any more..."
"Child, he should be the one crying. He is the one who lost someone who loves him. You only lost someone who doesn't love you..."
I don't know why I suddenly miss my ex so much... Perhaps too much, considering the above.
"Because I lost my love..."
"Do you love him?"
"Yes, I do. Very much..."
"Does he love you?"
"He did. But not any more..."
"Child, he should be the one crying. He is the one who lost someone who loves him. You only lost someone who doesn't love you..."
I don't know why I suddenly miss my ex so much... Perhaps too much, considering the above.
Fever
Ok, so there was a good reason why brother didn't show up yesterday, a very good reason.
Just came home and he did look sickly as he walked out of his room to greet me. "I have a fever..." It must be from walking in the rain, he said, for it was pouring heavily all day yesterday. And as he seems to always believe it's too hot and humid here, he rarely goes out without a jacket. And so he hit the jackpot...
Just came home and he did look sickly as he walked out of his room to greet me. "I have a fever..." It must be from walking in the rain, he said, for it was pouring heavily all day yesterday. And as he seems to always believe it's too hot and humid here, he rarely goes out without a jacket. And so he hit the jackpot...
Patient next door
The patient next door is loud sometimes at night. He would suddenly wake up screaming, saying something I cannot quite make out what through the walls. It sounds though as if he is very afraid, and screaming for his life, stopping only when the carer or nurse responds and takes care of his needs.
The patient next door is an AIDS victim. Mum told me that, and she in turn heard it from her carer. For the last two days, she's been telling me that, as if to say something, but I'm not quite sure what. I guess the stigma is that gays have AIDS, and that the patient may be gay. And I'm gay, so she's telling me perhaps the patient next door is gay too. Perhaps she's trying to "warn" me.
I've never seen the man next door, and I don't think mum has either. But mum is curious and asks me why the man, in his late forties, is even staying at the colo-rectal surgery ward. There could be any number of reasons why, and the fact that he has AIDS (if the hear-say is true...) may just be one reason he is here, and not the reason.
"There is no cure, is there?"
I explained (assuming that the hear-say is true...) there isn't, but there are drugs that can inhibit the progress of the illness and that nowadays people can live even for a long time. "It's a bit like cancer perhaps," I said, and perhaps insultingly, back in the early eighties, it was nicknamed the "Gay cancer". But HIV/AIDS is not just an illness of gays or spread by gays alone, as we now know.
There is no cure, just like in the case of advanced cancer, and as the illness progresses, the body's immune system is attacked and progressively weakened, and the organs fail one by one. Both cancer patients and AIDS patients have this "iconic" thin and bony look. In the end, it gets very painful, so I read. Both for cancer and AIDS, there are drugs that can slow the symptoms or even significantly delay death. Unlike cancer, AIDS can be prevented.
"if you don't fool around, and don't do do drugs using used needles..." I told mum, to inform her, but in a way also to placate her fears.
The patient next door is an AIDS victim. Mum told me that, and she in turn heard it from her carer. For the last two days, she's been telling me that, as if to say something, but I'm not quite sure what. I guess the stigma is that gays have AIDS, and that the patient may be gay. And I'm gay, so she's telling me perhaps the patient next door is gay too. Perhaps she's trying to "warn" me.
I've never seen the man next door, and I don't think mum has either. But mum is curious and asks me why the man, in his late forties, is even staying at the colo-rectal surgery ward. There could be any number of reasons why, and the fact that he has AIDS (if the hear-say is true...) may just be one reason he is here, and not the reason.
"There is no cure, is there?"
I explained (assuming that the hear-say is true...) there isn't, but there are drugs that can inhibit the progress of the illness and that nowadays people can live even for a long time. "It's a bit like cancer perhaps," I said, and perhaps insultingly, back in the early eighties, it was nicknamed the "Gay cancer". But HIV/AIDS is not just an illness of gays or spread by gays alone, as we now know.
There is no cure, just like in the case of advanced cancer, and as the illness progresses, the body's immune system is attacked and progressively weakened, and the organs fail one by one. Both cancer patients and AIDS patients have this "iconic" thin and bony look. In the end, it gets very painful, so I read. Both for cancer and AIDS, there are drugs that can slow the symptoms or even significantly delay death. Unlike cancer, AIDS can be prevented.
"if you don't fool around, and don't do do drugs using used needles..." I told mum, to inform her, but in a way also to placate her fears.
Vomit
Happily, I rushed to the hospital thinking I've made something mum can finally enjoy after so long of not eating. Earlier, for lunch, I made her what she requested: egg fried rice with smoked salmon and chopped onions ad carrots. She ordered it, and I delivered it. Imagine my joy when she finished half a rice bowl of my fried rice, and even a few small slices of wax-apple and loquat!
Yesterday, the nurse came in and provided us with a list foods mum can now eat. The focus is on foods that are not too acidic (dairy and red meat are no-no...) and low in fibre, so that the intestines and digestive system can get used to digesting and expelling excrement after such a long break. Also a low-fibre diet can give the intestines time to repair and get used to the flow of things.
So for dinner I made fish soup, as recommended by the nurse, for fish is high in protein-- which mum needs for repairing her cells after surgery. And I cooked her some soft greens, a soft boiled egg, and noodles and added a bit of tea-tree oil, which is very good for lubricating the digestive system.
She took a bite of the noodles, and the smell of the tea-tree oil made her gag. She continued eating, because she did not want to disappoint me after I cooked her and excitedly brought food to her, but within minutes she was gagging and choking. Her stomach could not get used to the taste. Se gagged and choked for a while, and with each sound, each contorted facial expression, my heart ached... I was upset she could not eat what I made hr, but even more upset she was sort of forcing herself to eat because she did not want to disappoint me. "Why would you put your body through something like that? Why would you keep on eating if you didn't feel well with the first bite?!"
I cleared away the bag of vomit, and she leaned back on the armchair and looked so tired and deflated...
We are still not in the clear yet...
Yesterday, the nurse came in and provided us with a list foods mum can now eat. The focus is on foods that are not too acidic (dairy and red meat are no-no...) and low in fibre, so that the intestines and digestive system can get used to digesting and expelling excrement after such a long break. Also a low-fibre diet can give the intestines time to repair and get used to the flow of things.
So for dinner I made fish soup, as recommended by the nurse, for fish is high in protein-- which mum needs for repairing her cells after surgery. And I cooked her some soft greens, a soft boiled egg, and noodles and added a bit of tea-tree oil, which is very good for lubricating the digestive system.
She took a bite of the noodles, and the smell of the tea-tree oil made her gag. She continued eating, because she did not want to disappoint me after I cooked her and excitedly brought food to her, but within minutes she was gagging and choking. Her stomach could not get used to the taste. Se gagged and choked for a while, and with each sound, each contorted facial expression, my heart ached... I was upset she could not eat what I made hr, but even more upset she was sort of forcing herself to eat because she did not want to disappoint me. "Why would you put your body through something like that? Why would you keep on eating if you didn't feel well with the first bite?!"
I cleared away the bag of vomit, and she leaned back on the armchair and looked so tired and deflated...
We are still not in the clear yet...
Sleep
Am I too tired or too depressed? I've been sleeping so much in the past two when I'm not doing anything...
I still get up and go see mum at the hospital, but as soon as I return, I sleep. Sleep and don't feel like doing anything else but close my eyes and sleep... I am very tired, perhaps from the accumulated bad sleep whenever I had to sleep at the hospital throughout the past month. But I guess deep down I'm also very down, very, very down and often feel I want to "escape" somehow from all of this...
I hope this is all just a phase, and soon I'll be able to find strength and will again to do things.
I still get up and go see mum at the hospital, but as soon as I return, I sleep. Sleep and don't feel like doing anything else but close my eyes and sleep... I am very tired, perhaps from the accumulated bad sleep whenever I had to sleep at the hospital throughout the past month. But I guess deep down I'm also very down, very, very down and often feel I want to "escape" somehow from all of this...
I hope this is all just a phase, and soon I'll be able to find strength and will again to do things.
Support?
I cooked some fish soup and dry noodles and vegetables and headed to the hospital. It was the second time today, the first time being lunch time. As I left, my brother was snoring, for he had fallen asleep.
I let him rest, thinking he needs I to get over the jetlag, and thinking also he'd join me later at the hospital. After eight or so, I got a call from him saying he's not coming tonight.
"I'm too tired..." he said. OK.
But so am I. I know he has jetlag, and I know before I said nobody can expect him (or my sister-in-law for that matter) to be present at the hospital most of the day. But really, I was upset he did not even bother to come to the hospital to see mum, even though we live only around 15minutes away from the hospital, on foot. And earlier when he visited, he stayed for less than an hour (granted, my nephew was becoming restless, and my brother decided to take him home...)
To think when I first arrived back here, I did not even have the time to get over jetlag. It was almost a full day after i landed until I managed to go home and shower. I was back at the hospital two hours later. Imagine how tired I was then... And how tired I am now, three months (and counting...) later.
Mum shook her head when she spoke on the phone to my brother. I knew what she was thinking. And later she said: "I can tell whether he has heart or not..." Meaning whether his mind is fully into being here and being with mum, or whether he's halfheartedly here just for the sake of being here.
Perhaps my brother really is very tired. I can never know how it is to have a baby who cries and needs content attention. I can never know how tiring it is to be in his shoes, to have to lug seven suitcases and so much baby accessories and travel so far around the world. And I can never know what it feels like to have obligations towards his own family and towards mum. Perhaps as they say, once you get married, your heart lies elsewhere... Perhaps he really is tired, and I should not be too harsh on him.
But in all honesty, I am more upset by the fact that he seems (till now) to have done so little to spend time with mum, and when he does he sits there and taps away on hid phone playing games... I am not so much upset that he's not doing much to relieve me of my tasks, but that actually by being here and doing very little (so far) he's actually upsetting mum and making her
very disappointed at his behaviour. In a way, the way he's now, his aloofness and handsoff-ness to everything is exactly as mum had predicted before he arrived.
I just hope my brother will change soon, or otherwise his plan of spending three months here with mum may have to be cut short, and may do more damage to mum's condition than good...
I let him rest, thinking he needs I to get over the jetlag, and thinking also he'd join me later at the hospital. After eight or so, I got a call from him saying he's not coming tonight.
"I'm too tired..." he said. OK.
But so am I. I know he has jetlag, and I know before I said nobody can expect him (or my sister-in-law for that matter) to be present at the hospital most of the day. But really, I was upset he did not even bother to come to the hospital to see mum, even though we live only around 15minutes away from the hospital, on foot. And earlier when he visited, he stayed for less than an hour (granted, my nephew was becoming restless, and my brother decided to take him home...)
To think when I first arrived back here, I did not even have the time to get over jetlag. It was almost a full day after i landed until I managed to go home and shower. I was back at the hospital two hours later. Imagine how tired I was then... And how tired I am now, three months (and counting...) later.
Mum shook her head when she spoke on the phone to my brother. I knew what she was thinking. And later she said: "I can tell whether he has heart or not..." Meaning whether his mind is fully into being here and being with mum, or whether he's halfheartedly here just for the sake of being here.
Perhaps my brother really is very tired. I can never know how it is to have a baby who cries and needs content attention. I can never know how tiring it is to be in his shoes, to have to lug seven suitcases and so much baby accessories and travel so far around the world. And I can never know what it feels like to have obligations towards his own family and towards mum. Perhaps as they say, once you get married, your heart lies elsewhere... Perhaps he really is tired, and I should not be too harsh on him.
But in all honesty, I am more upset by the fact that he seems (till now) to have done so little to spend time with mum, and when he does he sits there and taps away on hid phone playing games... I am not so much upset that he's not doing much to relieve me of my tasks, but that actually by being here and doing very little (so far) he's actually upsetting mum and making her
very disappointed at his behaviour. In a way, the way he's now, his aloofness and handsoff-ness to everything is exactly as mum had predicted before he arrived.
I just hope my brother will change soon, or otherwise his plan of spending three months here with mum may have to be cut short, and may do more damage to mum's condition than good...
15 April 2012
True love...
Being with mum for so long, taking care of her in whatever little ways I can, visiting her at the hospital and staying by her side night after night made me realise something. Love. The meaning of true, unconditional love and devotion.
Whereas most people fall in love and start throwing around those magical words "I love you", how many actually realise what they are saying? Are they in love with the person because of the physical appearance? Because of the sexual pleasures? Because of money, prestige, benefits, or because they are just used to having someone around and afraid to be alone? If it is any of these, then that love cannot last... The physical will fade, the sexual pleasures will diminish with time without true and deep passion and true and deep feelings. And there will always be someone richer, more famous, more influential, more fun and better in whatever ways if you get bored and your heart begins to wander looking for something exciting and new to replace the old and mundane....
But true love means so much more. It is based on more than just the physical. It is more than just saying you love someone because you cannot bear to lose the happiness that person can give you. True love is because there is a deep bond between two people, far deeper and far more meaningful than any other bond you could ever develop with anyone else. True love is irreplaceable. True love means that you are willing to grow old with the person, willing to be with the person no matter what disease or disability should strike them in the future. You would not be afraid if the person should lose all mobility, your heart and mind will not stray if the other person should depend on you for their most basic needs. Nothing you do for the other person would be too strange, too perverse, too disgusting, too unnatural. Not even having to wipe the other person's bottom, not even having to carry or wheelchair someone around...
Is there is one thing I learned from being with mother as she is slowly getting weaker and losing her ability to do so many things we take for granted, I realise what it is I look for, what it is that I have always longed for in a relationship...
I need more than someone I can turn to and talk to when I am down and upset. I need more than someone I can laugh and laugh out loud and joke around. For I have friends who can fulfil that role. I need someone I can trust, fully, completely no matter what. I need someone who will be there for me no matter what, someone who will not be afraid to look at me, not be afraid to touch me, kiss me, hold me, even if I were to become disfigured, even if I were t lose my health and should disease eat away my looks and rot away my body. I need someone who will accompany me till the end (if I should go first...), and who will be by my side to soothe my pains and fears.
Because I know I have it in me to give someone all of that. Because I know with the experience of my mum, I am prepared and able to do all of that. And I wish for nothing less, nothing more...
相信愛 Believe in love
林育羣 Lin Yu Chun (the boy who famously covered Whitney's I will always love) you"
(translation mine)
Whereas most people fall in love and start throwing around those magical words "I love you", how many actually realise what they are saying? Are they in love with the person because of the physical appearance? Because of the sexual pleasures? Because of money, prestige, benefits, or because they are just used to having someone around and afraid to be alone? If it is any of these, then that love cannot last... The physical will fade, the sexual pleasures will diminish with time without true and deep passion and true and deep feelings. And there will always be someone richer, more famous, more influential, more fun and better in whatever ways if you get bored and your heart begins to wander looking for something exciting and new to replace the old and mundane....
But true love means so much more. It is based on more than just the physical. It is more than just saying you love someone because you cannot bear to lose the happiness that person can give you. True love is because there is a deep bond between two people, far deeper and far more meaningful than any other bond you could ever develop with anyone else. True love is irreplaceable. True love means that you are willing to grow old with the person, willing to be with the person no matter what disease or disability should strike them in the future. You would not be afraid if the person should lose all mobility, your heart and mind will not stray if the other person should depend on you for their most basic needs. Nothing you do for the other person would be too strange, too perverse, too disgusting, too unnatural. Not even having to wipe the other person's bottom, not even having to carry or wheelchair someone around...
Is there is one thing I learned from being with mother as she is slowly getting weaker and losing her ability to do so many things we take for granted, I realise what it is I look for, what it is that I have always longed for in a relationship...
I need more than someone I can turn to and talk to when I am down and upset. I need more than someone I can laugh and laugh out loud and joke around. For I have friends who can fulfil that role. I need someone I can trust, fully, completely no matter what. I need someone who will be there for me no matter what, someone who will not be afraid to look at me, not be afraid to touch me, kiss me, hold me, even if I were to become disfigured, even if I were t lose my health and should disease eat away my looks and rot away my body. I need someone who will accompany me till the end (if I should go first...), and who will be by my side to soothe my pains and fears.
Because I know I have it in me to give someone all of that. Because I know with the experience of my mum, I am prepared and able to do all of that. And I wish for nothing less, nothing more...
相信愛 Believe in love
林育羣 Lin Yu Chun (the boy who famously covered Whitney's I will always love) you"
(translation mine)
Can [we] not hug one another?
Is it alright if we hold hands?
Love makes the world happy and warm,
You can feel it,
Baby Love is so easy.
Please believe, I love you.
There is no need for language, for I understand you.
We softly smile and breathe deep, deep (lying in my embrace breathing)
Love is so easy,
If there is love then there is a miracle.
So, love is as easy as breathing deeply (Hopefully our hearts can get even closer)
Believe in love,
Love is a safe harbour, [is] the most trustworthy thing you can lean on.
Believe me, my good friend,
You do not need be disheartened, the rain and the winds will accompany you as you struggle
Love is courage and hope.
Love is so easy,
Hold my hand,
Love is you and me,
Embrace me…
Massage
The corner of mum's eyes were moist. She looked at me from her bed, her skin a little yellow from jaundice (yellowing of the skin, due to prolonged use of IV nutrients she has been administered...)
She said something. It was so weak and almost inaudible, so I asked her to repeat herself. I think I heard "I will miss you...", but I could not be sure. Mum did not repeat herself. But what I heard made me almost tear, because she said it in a way as if she is about to leave soon...
"You have done too much, and more than a child ever should, and I am so grateful..." she said. Again, there was that unmissable moisture in the corners of mum's eyes. I tried to say something to divert the conversation, because I was so embarrassed and lost as what I should say in response. But mum continued: "You have made it all worthwhile..." I struggled so hard to contain my tears... I have only done what I could, and sometimes I lose my temper and get angry and frustrated at her in the process... I have only done what I can, and sometimes I know I push her and force her to do things, even though she says she is too weak and too frail to do them...
I touched mum's arm and began to massage it. She looked at me and closed her eyes, and quietly smiled.
Later, when brother visited, I proposed to give mum a massage together. Brother took one leg, while I took another, and when we were done with the legs and the feet, we started on the hands and arms. It was then that brother saw and realised for the first time how thin, how bony mum had become.
It was the first time that brother got so close to mum, the first time, I believe, that he touched mum so intimately and for so long. He looked at how I rubbed lavender lotion onto mum's legs and arms and gently massaged the lotion in. And he followed my motion, rubbing and massaging, not just mum's limbs, but I am sure also mum's heart. I was so happy, for unlike before, he did not look at me and frown when I asked him to massage mum. I think seeing mum like this, all the mental barriers came down, all the embarrassment and pride vanished. .Seeing your own mother so weakened and so frail, you cannot but feel compassion and the need to want to do something, anything, to alleviate her discomforts and pain. And brother sees it too, brother is human too, and he knows, just as I wanted it, that there are things that he can do to try and make mum more comfortable and feel cared about.
It was such a touching moment, and I wished I could remember that moment, just the three of us, forever and ever. I suspect mum will remember that moment forever and ever. "What greater pleasure is there to have both your sons massage you?" I joked, "Just enjoy it!"
She said something. It was so weak and almost inaudible, so I asked her to repeat herself. I think I heard "I will miss you...", but I could not be sure. Mum did not repeat herself. But what I heard made me almost tear, because she said it in a way as if she is about to leave soon...
"You have done too much, and more than a child ever should, and I am so grateful..." she said. Again, there was that unmissable moisture in the corners of mum's eyes. I tried to say something to divert the conversation, because I was so embarrassed and lost as what I should say in response. But mum continued: "You have made it all worthwhile..." I struggled so hard to contain my tears... I have only done what I could, and sometimes I lose my temper and get angry and frustrated at her in the process... I have only done what I can, and sometimes I know I push her and force her to do things, even though she says she is too weak and too frail to do them...
I touched mum's arm and began to massage it. She looked at me and closed her eyes, and quietly smiled.
Later, when brother visited, I proposed to give mum a massage together. Brother took one leg, while I took another, and when we were done with the legs and the feet, we started on the hands and arms. It was then that brother saw and realised for the first time how thin, how bony mum had become.
It was the first time that brother got so close to mum, the first time, I believe, that he touched mum so intimately and for so long. He looked at how I rubbed lavender lotion onto mum's legs and arms and gently massaged the lotion in. And he followed my motion, rubbing and massaging, not just mum's limbs, but I am sure also mum's heart. I was so happy, for unlike before, he did not look at me and frown when I asked him to massage mum. I think seeing mum like this, all the mental barriers came down, all the embarrassment and pride vanished. .Seeing your own mother so weakened and so frail, you cannot but feel compassion and the need to want to do something, anything, to alleviate her discomforts and pain. And brother sees it too, brother is human too, and he knows, just as I wanted it, that there are things that he can do to try and make mum more comfortable and feel cared about.
It was such a touching moment, and I wished I could remember that moment, just the three of us, forever and ever. I suspect mum will remember that moment forever and ever. "What greater pleasure is there to have both your sons massage you?" I joked, "Just enjoy it!"
Your own happiness
(Liberty Times)
"You always expect someone else to give you something.
Maybe it's a praise, maybe it's a gift, maybe it's a smile, maybe it's a relationship.
Ultimately, you always expect to get self assurance from something someone gives you.
When you don't get it, you're moody and unhappy; after you get it, you feel like something is missing.
Darling, you know something? No matter whether you get it or don't get it, expecting something from someone will definitely give you suffering, because that is giving away your right to happiness.
What someone can give you, someone can also take back.
So, other than yourself, who is your source of happiness?
So, darling, don't expect to get anything from another person.
When you don't expect others to make you happy, you can get real happiness."
"You always expect someone else to give you something.
Maybe it's a praise, maybe it's a gift, maybe it's a smile, maybe it's a relationship.
Ultimately, you always expect to get self assurance from something someone gives you.
When you don't get it, you're moody and unhappy; after you get it, you feel like something is missing.
Darling, you know something? No matter whether you get it or don't get it, expecting something from someone will definitely give you suffering, because that is giving away your right to happiness.
What someone can give you, someone can also take back.
So, other than yourself, who is your source of happiness?
So, darling, don't expect to get anything from another person.
When you don't expect others to make you happy, you can get real happiness."
Disappointing?
I got a phone call from my aunt asking about how long my brother was at the hospital yesterday. Why is that an issue? Mum said he only visited briefly, and left in the evening, whereas I stayed the night to be with her. Why is this even an issue?
Because mum and my aunt feel my brother and my sister-in-law should be doing more. Now that they are back, they should relieve me and give me time to rest and time to study or do what I would like to do. I feared that there would be grumblings, as even before they returned, mum on several occasions scoffed at the fact that they are coming back to "take care of her". She scoffed, because in the past, they did very little for her or to make her comfortable when she visited them in Europe. So she is not really receptive of the fact that they have come back here, even though I told her that she must give them a chance. "Do you want [brother] to live the rest of his life with regret?" I told her many times. Meaning, if he never had the chance to spend time with her and 'take care' of her, then he may feel such pain and regret should mum pass away.
I stayed behind last night because brother just returned from Europe and is still suffering jetlag. In a few days, when he is better, he can spend some nights at the hospital if it is necessary. Besides, he has a kid to take care of, so people really cannot expect everything of him.
In the coming days, I will slowly back off from caretaking and allow my brother and sister-in-law to take over. I told mum already not to expect anything, and not to compare. Without sounding pompous or anything, I know I do a lot for mum and a lot of what I do brother probably is not sensitive or caring enough to do. But I told mum that does not matter. We are different people, and he care show his care and affection in his own way. There are things that he can give mum that I cannot. "He gave you a grandchild. Look at the way you smile when you see your grandchild!" I know I cannot give mum that, at least not immediately. But my brother can give her that, and that is his greatest contribution.
So today when they brought food to the hospital for lunch, I stayed home. I do not need to be there. They can go and figure things out for themselves, and hopefully dispel talk of being useless and disappointing. They need their time alone. And I need time alone too...
Because mum and my aunt feel my brother and my sister-in-law should be doing more. Now that they are back, they should relieve me and give me time to rest and time to study or do what I would like to do. I feared that there would be grumblings, as even before they returned, mum on several occasions scoffed at the fact that they are coming back to "take care of her". She scoffed, because in the past, they did very little for her or to make her comfortable when she visited them in Europe. So she is not really receptive of the fact that they have come back here, even though I told her that she must give them a chance. "Do you want [brother] to live the rest of his life with regret?" I told her many times. Meaning, if he never had the chance to spend time with her and 'take care' of her, then he may feel such pain and regret should mum pass away.
I stayed behind last night because brother just returned from Europe and is still suffering jetlag. In a few days, when he is better, he can spend some nights at the hospital if it is necessary. Besides, he has a kid to take care of, so people really cannot expect everything of him.
In the coming days, I will slowly back off from caretaking and allow my brother and sister-in-law to take over. I told mum already not to expect anything, and not to compare. Without sounding pompous or anything, I know I do a lot for mum and a lot of what I do brother probably is not sensitive or caring enough to do. But I told mum that does not matter. We are different people, and he care show his care and affection in his own way. There are things that he can give mum that I cannot. "He gave you a grandchild. Look at the way you smile when you see your grandchild!" I know I cannot give mum that, at least not immediately. But my brother can give her that, and that is his greatest contribution.
So today when they brought food to the hospital for lunch, I stayed home. I do not need to be there. They can go and figure things out for themselves, and hopefully dispel talk of being useless and disappointing. They need their time alone. And I need time alone too...
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