19 May 2012

Resting place

Just called home. No one was home.
Called mum's mobile, and brother picked up. They're out. Out looking at a possible urn tower where mum could be placed "afterwards".

Should I not be there while such a decision is being made?

Where there is a will...

There is a wei.

A few weeks ago an idea popped into my head. I remember I was in the hospital, with mum, who lay there asleep. My mind drifted to images of someone, who throughout my difficult moments, and moments of pain and despair seems to have the ability to lift me up-- even if we have not talked for a long, long time. In my moments of despair, hopelessness, my mind somehow, wrongly or rightly, drifts to my ex...

I fantasised about us meeting again, how special that would be after all this time. Even more special after he told me, explicitly and implicitly, how much he misses me, how important I seem to be in his life.

He once told me about a dream of his, and that is to walk on the Brooklyn Bridge with the person he truly loves. My mind put that knowledge with the longing to see him again in a special setting. So I wrote him a card, told him where I'd be and when, and said if he truly feels what he tells me, perhaps we could meet there on Brooklyn Bridge.

It seemed like a simple plan. A beautiful and wonderfully romantic idea. Two people, who obviously have feelings for one another, who obviously miss one another so much, and who know deep down there is still some potential in developing something special and something lasting, meeting at a most romantic setting at a most romantic time (dusk). "Perhaps it could be a new dawn..." I wrote him.

At first he told me he'd like to be there, he can be there. This was a week ago. I fantasised about our meeting. I dreamed and smiled just at the thought of seeing him again on the bridge that is so meaningful to him.

A few days ago he wrote me and said the timing is bad, for he needs to arrange to move things out of his old apartment. I was disappointed, yet I still clung onto hope of perhaps being able to see him...

Now, right now, the original plan is supposed to fall into place. At this very moment, at dusk, on Brooklyn Bridge, on the Brooklyn side. In my fantasies, I would stand on the bridge, stare out at the skyline of Manhattan. And suddenly out of nowhere he would find me and call out my name... We would look into one another's eyes, we would hug. I would kiss him. I would whisper softly in his ears: "I've missed you so much..."

But now, at this very moment, I am in a small-town in NJ. He is in Montreal (I believe). He told me there are no available flights. Hotels are prohibitively expensive (I agree). He tells me he is very apologetic he cannot be (t)here with me. And he offers me other places and opportunities to meet. But I am not interested.

How disappointed I truly am. All those moments I imagined him being my source of comfort and support, and now it's just a great letdown. I cannot and should not be too harsh on him. I cannot know how tired my ex is from his work and having to deal with the stress of moving over the weekend. I cannot imagine what he is thinking, what he is truly feeling, and whether he truly means what he says.

But where there is a will, there is a Wei, right? What would you do to prove to someone how much they mean to you? What extremes would you go to to show sincerity in your word and what you really mean when you tell someone you love him and have always loved him? I know what I would do. I know I would find a way, journey through the night if I must. Just spend an hour with that special someone, if it comes to that. But I would be there. I would seize the chance I have been given again, and prove I am true to my word, true to my heart...

I am here, in NJ. I will be in NYC tomorrow, on the bridge in the afternoon (2-4) just before my flight in the evening.

Even if I am alone, I owe it to myself to fulfil my dream of standing on the bridge and admiring the manhattan skyline. Even if alone, I can dream of one day standing there with the one true person who loves me , who would go the extremes and lengths to show his care and love for me. Even if I am alone, I can do something terribly romantic and beautiful too. (well, I won't be alone, for my stuffed animals would be with me...)


Dream

Was it one dream or two? They were somehow related.

One was brief, involving my ex. We were walking around together, in a busy city until we came to a bridge. (That much i could remember...)

The next dream involved something sad and happy. The happy bit involved my whole family going to a venue to plan a wedding, my brother's wedding. (strange because he already had one in real life...) Then the next scene, which lasted a while was one in which dad appeared.

He was lying in a bed, dying. Mum, brother and I gathered by his side. We talked and laughed, it was not sad. Dad was giving advice to mum, about how to "go". They talked about death, about grandma's passing, about how there were many unspoken things and a lot of regret.

Mum was in tears. She said at grandma's deathbed grandma apologised to mum for being picky and difficult. Mum cried because she said she had tried so hard ever since she came into dad's family, yet she never got approval from dad's relatives. But when grandma passed, she asked for forgiveness, and grandma told mum she knew and could see mum did more than was expected of her.

Brother was in the room with his wife, but he seemed frustrated. I found myself on dad's bed, leaned in close to dad and was in tears. On his quilt were a bunch of writing and numbers I could not decipher, but they seemed to tell me something. Mum was sitting by dad's bedside, looking sad. They were still talking about death and dying...


In Perrineville

Spoke to mum just now. A brief conversation. I hesitated whether to tell her where I am, for she never did have a liking for my aunt in the US. but I told mum anyways, just to let her know and not have to hide things.

It was a very brief conversation, and I explained how it is that it costs more to fly direct to Montreal than it does to fly to Montreal and then New York (Newark). It didn't not matter, really. It was just making conversation... Making conversation, as she was doing telling me she just went to market in her wheelchair. Anything to make conversation, to distract from it all...

Mum quickly put me through to brother. "Mum's been losing weight..." she's 41 now, down from 43kg a few days ago. It's strange why she's losing weight. Or is it? It's the cancer. It's eating her from the inside. She's being fed by the (new) carer. Too weak to eat by herself...

I did not flinch. I did not cry.

It's as if those words, the description of mum's condition, the talk about mum's eventual arrangements washed over me completely. A friend of mum's came to see her yesterday. She cried seeing mum. I heard what was said. But I did not flinch. I did not cry.

Am I unfeeling? Am I numb? Am I deaf or just suppressing it all? Perhaps all the feelings of pain, pain, deep deep pain is falling into a hole, a hole that is fast filling and will one day burst out...

What am I doing here, in this small town in the middle of nowhere? What am I doing being surrounded by open countryside, stars and such tranquility?

It's all so surreal.

Talks

It's like I don't hear it. Brother tells me about talks he has been having with mum. Talks about her "arrangements". Where to go, what to do, how and all the details when she is no longer around.

I've had theses conversations with mum before. And at those times, it feel so natural, so simple to talk about death. Perhaps because death didn't seem so close. At least, never as close as now. And it frightens me. It intimidates me so.

The cancer is eating away her intestines, her pancreas. God only knows where else and how else mum will be affected. All I can think of is how is she feeling. How is mum taking all this? How is mum feeling deep down, knowing that there may not be much time left? A thought comes to me: what is the point of all these days, these final days when you know where things are headed?

These questions never bothered me, or at least not as much as they do now. I am so afraid that she is afraid and uneasy inside. Those thoughts dominate my mind nowadays, and suppress even my own feelings toward all this. I am confused, broken, lost. Perhaps you have noticed from the very disjointed and incoherent way I've been writing these days.

"Should I head back?" I asked mum yesterday. And I asked the same question to my brother. They both told me to stay. It's not time yet. One day it will be, and I need to prepare for that. But now is not yet the time.

I need to make the most of my time here, time when I am away from it all to recuperate, to gather strength and courage. Because I have a feeling the next time I am back home, it might very well be a longer and more difficult stay.

Departure gate

Same departure gate, different times, different mindset, different reason for flying.

Same person, same little insignificant human being trying to do the best he can with the life he has

18 May 2012

YVR-YUL

Another flight. When boarding the thought came to me: what am I doing? Walking around airports with a suitcase, pretending to be all important by flying all over the place. Living out of the suitcase, and onto my next destination. Whats the point of it all?

What am I looking for, if anything? One day, when I am old and alone, I will look back and realise all of this was so pointless. All the flights, all the traveling, all those miles... They will one day lose their significance.



Starting afresh

I get scared and tense up. I know what the other person is up to, I can feel the touches, the looks and glances. And I am so intimidated by it all.

But is this not what I am looking for, not what I have been craving and dreaming of? And yet when someone is giving it to me, why do I shirk and shy away? Why do I pretend not to notice and pretend none of it is happening? Why do I feel guilty and feel if I live and indulge, I am forsaking mum and abandoning her...?

"I can't..." I said, "I don't want to start anything when everything is so uncertain..." He touched me so tenderly, but I am scared. But is that always my excuse for everything? Is that how I run away from things, because I believe or make myself believe there is something much more important out there holding me back from really living, pulling me back from rushing forward and committing.

How long am I to keep running? How long must I go on living afraid to make commitments, afraid to live for myself?

18 May

Just noticed the date I marked on my handcarry luggage. It's exactly a year to the day. What has changed?

Mum's health deteriorated rapidly, after so deceiving hints of hope and recovery...
My ex suddenly turned around and said it's over, and till this day I'm still feeling the effects of that day, and still trying to find myself, and someone who will never do something as hurtful...
I struggled with my thesis, am set to graduate, but am also faced with unknown prospects...

And I am still travelling, flying around more or less as much as before, despite promises I made to myself not to...

One year on, and what has happened? Where am I in life, in this world?

I'm still trying to find out, but a little reminder that it's been one year already since last year to the day helps to put things into perspective.

16 May 2012

Message to brother



"I'm boarding flight to vancouver now. Thank you for being there [...] with mum. I know it's hard to deal with this kind of situation, but we will go through this together. Keep mum comfortable and make her feel at ease. If there is anything, I'll take the first flight back. Take care"

Possibility

I have options, I am free.
Time to liberate myself from the past.

Time to live.

Escape?

"There will be lots of trips to the ER from now..." my aunt said, almost as a matter-of-factly, and I felt it was somewhat unfeelingly, "It was like that with my father." The last sentence made me realise she has been through this before, she knows what it feels like. She knows.

I asked her what an elevated pancreas index level means. She's been a nurse for over twenty years. She thought about and told me frankly at this stage those indices and number don't really matter much any more. "As long as she's comfortable and feeling at ease, that's important."

And I know it. I know deep inside her, the cancer is eating her, wreaking havoc and spreading. I know, and dread to think about it. Slowly, bit by bit mum's health will decline till her organs become affected and deteriorate. It will be fortunate if there is not too much pain. Luckier if it does not last too long.

Being here in Canada, surrounded by beautiful mountains and a clear, clear blue sky almost everyday, it is too easy to forget what I have left behind back home. It is surreal in some ways, that I am here surrounded by all this peace and beauty, and to think of what I have endured over the past few months... Being here is a far world away from hospital wards, doctors and the sight of syringes and operating rooms...


I find myself, in waking moments and my dreams, whether I am escaping reality by putting myself so far away from it all. Am I being selfish again? Do I not care? It pains me to hear when I talk with mum on the phone how she wears diapers every night "just in case". What she must feel, what she must think, to see her own body deteriorate. Imagine, a proud person being physically reduced to skin and bone and being confined to bed most of the time... How she must feel...

15 May 2012

In Vancouver

Just checked into the hotel downtown. Small room, a bit pricey, but it has a desk I can work on, and I can check out later in the day and head straight to the exam. It serves its purpose, and that's all I need.

It was a restless flight. I managed to doze off upon take off for half an hour or so. Read a bit, but my mind was very agitated and kept on wondering how things are with mum. It really felt like I was flying back home again, and if need be, I will fly back home. I have the keys and all the essentials, even though I just have a carry on with me. But really, what do you need in life? Less is more, and having nothing you have nothing to lose. I did a bit more studying, if it can be called that. But really, my mind kept on drifting home, drifting to mum, and was very disturbed by imaginations of likely scenarios, and how it would be when mum is no longer around.

First thing I did after I walked into the room (after knocking on the door, something mum has instilled in me, just in case there is "someone" there... And by "someone", it's not necessarily someone you can see...), I called home.  Brother told me not to worry, and that they came home late last night. Mum refused to stay at the hospital, and brother signed a waiver for her to be discharged. I asked to speak to mum, and she got on the phone. She sounded very weak, but kept on encouraging me, wishing me "Good luck!" She reminded me to also rest well and eat well.

I asked her how she was feeling, and as soon as I asked I realised perhaps I should not have. If she were feeling terrible, would she say it? She would have to lie, and that would make her feel even worse...  And now more than ever, mum needs happy news, positive news, good news, not things that would make her feel even worse. She told me she lost some more weight, down to 44kg now. "Why is it that I can't gain weight?" she asked me. I am afraid to say why, and all I said is that she should eat more, eat more meals spread out over the day.

 I chatted with her a bit, and she revealed she was breathless yesterday afternoon. Her blood pressure dropped dramatically, and she felt her heart struggling to beat. It had become very hot and humid, and she was too thrift to turn on the air con...

She's back home. She does not know I know about the complications of her pancreas, and the extreme measure of bile and pancreas fluids in her circulation system. It is good like this, for now. It is good to pretend that I do not know much, and that I will just focus on my exam. Because that is what she would want me to do.


14 May 2012

Gone



Things, images, fears cross my mind...
Just now, I saw myself crying at night, alone in my own apartment. Gone, gone, mum is gone...

And that thought, that image, even though it is but a fleeting one and an imagination of what could be, scares me so...

To the airport

On the metro. The last few hours have been a rush. I lay down for a rest, needed to calm my mind and upset stomach. I can feel the stress mounting again. And it's physically manifesting in bad cramps, cramps I've not felt for a while.

All these images cross my mind... Mum lying there with an expression of pain and discomfort... Mum breathing laboriously... Images of possible futures and potential events that may take place, and that are taking place in the vivid world of my imagination... Rushing home on the plane... Crying at the hospital... Holding onto mum's limp body... Inconsolable pain, pain, pain that will not go away...

I shudder at these thoughts, I feel deep deep fear as these images tear through my mind...

Heading to the airport. Flight in two hours. Another flight. It seems crazy that I'm heading back to Vancouver, where I just was last week. But I needed the time and place to fully concentrate, to be at home and rest in my own bed, to he surrounded by my own things and to recharge. I needed that little reminder that whatever happens, I have a home, I have these possessions that ground me to my life and tell me who I am (yes, it's very materialistic to be attached to my home and my things...). I need that more than anything at the moment. I need that at a time when who-knows-when need to part with the dearest person in my life...

Was it a waste of money to be flying back and forth across Canada just in order to study? Circumstances compel me to. Or perhaps I'm just too spoiled and cannot concentrate unless I'm in a quiet environment insulated from distractions. But this exam is important. Not just because it cost $400 just to register to take it. But because I have postponed it once before already.

And I know mum would want me to succeed, would want me to sit the exam. For her sake. I can imagine that she's lying there in bed and thinking about me, praying for me and wishing me luck.

Be prepared

we talked about "arrangements" for a while. Things that come "after".

Mum is terribly frail. The elevated pancreas index level may be related to the cancer having infiltrated the pancreas and causing a slow process of poisoning.

"How does mum feel?"
"She knows. She knows better than me what is happening."
"How do you feel?"
"Just like this... It's just like this."

"The doctor told me something today," brother said, "And I have to tell you. The next time if her intestines become blocked, she has only a month."
Shock.
Fear.
Realisation.
Terrible, terrible stomach pains.
Terrible, terrible agitation and the vision of the world spinning, collapsing.

"I understand," I said calmly. The calm was uncanny, surreal. The calm that was sheltering the turbulence and storm.

I want to rush there. I want to be there, I want to hold mum. I want to tell her I love her so much. I want to take away her fears, take away her pains, even though my own body, my own mind is filling with fears and agitation. But the exam needs to be written still. I have not yet begun revising. I am so torn and frustrated. What should I be feeling? What should I be prioritising?

I am so scared. so very, very scared.

Terrible restlessness

So horribly agitated. Had reserved this morning for revision before I board the flight to Vancouver to take the exam. But as soon as I spoke to brother, my mind wandered off. Who has the concentration to read about procedural fairness and judicial review? Who has the mind to think of court cases and exceeding jurisdiction when my mum is in hospital?

The last conversation with brother was brief. The phone cut out a little, but I heard something about an elevated pancreas index. Not sure what that means, but if it's six times the normal level, it cannot be good. It's probably life threatening. It's all related to the blockage in the duodenum, to the tumour that is there. I know it.

I can picture mum lying there in the ER, so thin, so frail, and again having to undergo another series of tests and scans... how depressed and saddened she must feel after spending so long at the hospital to have to return again...

Will decide moment by moment what to do. Am packing my large suitcase and taking the keys for the house in Taiwan just in case. I am so agitated and not sure what to do...

ER

Something is seriously wrong.
Called brother twice, once just now, once about two hours ago.

Every time he says he'll tell me later.

Can't study. Can't think of anything else. I'm so afraid...

Rush to ER

Called home just now.

Mum was rushed to ER, complaining of heart problems.

Brother said not to worry.
How could I not?

What is wrong...? What is wrong...?