Unwell

Immediately after returning from my trip south, I headed to the hospital. Mum's scheduled chemo therapy began Saturday, and lasted until today.

It was a grueling process, and she was restless in that room. Tubes were connected to an artificially installed vessel around her right shoulder, and the cancer-killing medicine was slowly infused into her body. The first day, she could eat like she normally would, but on the second day she lost her appetite. Just the smell of really pungent food made her nauseous. I looked on, watching her worried and tired expressions with worry and helplessness.

The minutes passed by slowly, and even slower for my mum. I would bring her fresh food and cut fruits, but she would only eat a little. We passed the time reading, watching senseless TV shows and sensationalist news that is repeated over and over again. We meditated together too, and that seemed to give us moments of peace, if only for a little while. Occasionally I would take her for a walk... merely up and down the corridor, eight, nine or even ten times the same route, because the nurses said it is best not to go out, because her immune system would be vulnerable. And, well, it would not look very good in her pink hospital wear.

I slept next to my mum, on this narrow green sofa which was too short for my legs. It was uncomfortable, and I would wake up everyday feeling more tired and somewhat feeling really unwell ... but being able to watch my mum as she lay there peacefully asleep made all the sores and discomfort go away.

The nurses were so kind and so helpful it was touching to see. There was one nurse who worked the early evening shift until midnight everyday. Her voice was so soft and soothing, and whenever she came to check up on my mum she would stay and chit-chat, and reassure my mum that it is all going well, and that there is nothing to worry about. Now and then, she would take my mum by the hand and hold her to give her support. When I left this morning, I went to this special nurse and thanked her, thanked her wholehearted for all that she has done. All she did was smile and nod at me, as if to tell me that this is all part of her work.

Mum's face lit up instantly as the doctor came to say that she can go home again. To her, staying there seemed like a prison, and she would, if she could, rush home that very moment. We packed our bags and made our way home. But soon, tiredness began to show on her face, even though we were barely home yet.

The first thing she did was lie down, and mum immediately fell asleep. Her hair wild on her pillows, her arms limp at her side, her eyes closed under saggy lids...

While she rested I went to the market to pick up lots of fresh and nutritious foods. After chemo, the most important thing is to make up for the lost cells and energy by eating well and eating a high-protein diet, so as to prepare for the next chemo session. Tonight, I made her fresh miso-soup with salmon bits and tofu, made a little stir-fried greens, and warmed up some turnip cakes that she loves to eat.

She only had a little to eat, and took only one sip of the soup before putting it down again. "I'm sorry... I know you meant well, but I really don't feel like eating." She went back to rest soon after, leaving the soup still full, the fish and tofu bits untouched.