Unwell

Brother suddenly called me in the evening (morning Taiwan time).

"I don't want to scare you..." he said, "And please don't worry or think too much, but mum said she wants to go the hospital."

Mum dislikes the hospital... She could hardly wait to get out of there. But today for the first time, she requested to return. I asked to speak to her.

"I just feel very weak, like there's no energy..." she mumbled. I struggled to hear her clearly. My heart pounded like it did almost five months ago, when I got "The Call". I began trembling. At that moment my friend dropped by. I had asked her to come by because I needed her help printing documents I need to apply for a visa home.

"please don't rush here... Stay where you are for a bit longer. You've been flying around too much. No need to "chia bua bing"" Meaning "turning the place upside down", or making a mountain out of a mole hill.

I spoke to mum a little more, but she was getting dressed to go. Brother took over the phone and tried to reassure me more. But I was beyond reassuring. I trembled and shook, even though I said I'd go sleep. I did not.

Not much later, I was holding our family portrait and sobbing heavily again. My friend placed an arm around me and tried to comfort me. I was beyond comforting, and sobbed even more. I felt the saltiness of my tears in the corner of my lips. I felt the snot run down my nose. I was distraught, anxious, petrified. I was so far, far away... I folded my arms before me and clenched my fists. I held myself tightly, for it was the closest way i could console myself. Eventually I stopped crying. And soon began to joke and laugh with my friend as she hugged me tightly that I must smell really bad because I've not had the time to shower since my long bike ride today. She said I smell no more different than before, which could be a compliment, or insult. That's why it was funny. That broke my flow of tears And made me smile.

"I can still smile, right? Smile and laugh?" I asked.

"Yes, you can," she said as she stroked my shoulders. And that's an amazing ability in the face of everything.

It is so painfully hard, gruellingly difficult these moments of unknown, these sudden phone calls that leave me gasping for breath and for sanity. But one day it will be all over...

One day it will all be over...

Unwell

Brother suddenly called me in the evening (morning Taiwan time).

"I don't want to scare you..." he said, "And please don't worry or think too much, but mum said she wants to go the hospital."

Mum dislikes the hospital... She could hardly wait to get out of there. But today for the first time, she requested to return. I asked to speak to her.

"I just feel very weak, like there's no energy..." she mumbled. I struggled to hear her clearly. My heart pounded like it did almost five months ago, when I got "The Call". I began trembling. At that moment my friend dropped by. I had asked her to come by because I needed her help printing documents I need to apply for a visa home.

"please don't rush here... Stay where you are for a bit longer. You've been flying around too much. No need to "chia bua bing"" Meaning "turning the place upside down", or making a mountain out of a mole hill.

I spoke to mum a little more, but she was getting dressed to go. Brother took over the phone and tried to reassure me more. But I was beyond reassuring. I trembled and shook, even though I said I'd go sleep. I did not.

Not much later, I was holding our family portrait and sobbing heavily again. My friend placed an arm around me and tried to comfort me. I was beyond comforting, and sobbed even more. I felt the saltiness of my tears in the corner of my lips. I felt the snot run down my nose. I was distraught, anxious, petrified. I was so far, far away... I folded my arms before me and clenched my fists. I held myself tightly, for it was the closest way i could console myself. Eventually I stopped crying. And soon began to joke and laugh with my friend as she hugged me tightly that I must smell really bad because I've not had the time to shower since my long bike ride today. She said I smell no more different than before, which could be a compliment, or insult. That's why it was funny. That broke my flow of tears And made me smile.

"I can still smile, right? Smile and laugh?" I asked.

"Yes, you can," she said as she stroked my shoulders. And that's an amazing ability in the face of everything.

It is so painfully hard, gruellingly difficult these moments of unknown, these sudden phone calls that leave me gasping for breath and for sanity. But one day it will be all over...

One day it will all be over...

Dream

I knew the people in front of me were terrorists. I could see it  in their eyes, which burned a fierce suicidal zeal. There were three girls, none older than twenty, in fact perhaps one was even younger than ten.

The roller coaster pulled away from the station, and there was a low gasp of excitement from all the passengers. But I was filled with dread and fear, the kind of fear from knowing that something horrible is about to happen, but you are so utterly powerless and helpless to stop it. You can just sit and let the horrible event take place. I don't know what was worse... the fact that dozens of innocent people will die be horribly maimed , or that you are part of those who are about to die. 

As soon as the roller coaster reached a certain speed, one of the girls looked back at me. She showed me a small round battery, and then threw it out of the train. Another girl turned around and showed me a wrench, and she too threw it out of the train. Both of them smiled this wicked smile. I was strapped in my seat, but I wanted to reach out and get ahold of them. I could not.

My fear turned to this strange calm. I know we were hurtling to our deaths, the ups and downs of the ride is just a part of it all. I know what the outcome will be, just not when it will happen...

I opened my eyes and woke  up before the destruction and carnage took place...

Three hours countdown

I suddenly heard mum groan. It was just after four in the morning. She twisted and turned in bed, and was unresponsive to my questions to her. "What's wrong? Mum, tell me what's wrong...?"

"I can't say..." Something was bothering her, but she couldn't (or didn't want to) say what it was. Was it a nightmare? Was it her sore arms or legs that are keeping her from sleeping? Was it "something else" bothering her (yes, I mean the supernatural...)? She just lay there, writhed her body in apparent discomfort. Her legs were so thin and twisted in a mangle like the plastic tubes coming put of the artery in her neck.

I did what I could think of to calm my down... I massaged her arms, her legs, her feet, her hands... With each rub, each stroke, each pull and push motion, I silently wished my touch would take away whatever was bothering mum. I massaged her with love, with the love of a child, with the devotion and dedication of a child who wishes nothing more than to calm his mother's mind and spirit a few hours before a major operation-- an operation which could very well determine mum's fate and course of life...

I can only imagine, only just imagine and even that is not close enough to what she must be feeling, what she must be thinking of fearing... The heat packs I prepared for her I placed under her shoulder blades. And suddenly, in a rare moment of clarity, mum opened her eyes. "Thank you... Thank you for everything..."

Call

Unexpectedly, the phone rang. I did not recognise the voice, but the lady asked for me. She said she was the social worker at Hope, the foundation for cancer welfare.

She called to see how I am doing. With a lot of attention focused on my mum, rarely do people as how I am doing. I almost cried when she asked. I forced a smile, said "I'm coping". She could hear it was a forced smiled.

"You have to eat well and sleep well. I know it's hard."

I told her about my dreams, about how I do eat, but more out of necessity than anything else. I haven't lost too much weight in the past three months, but people say I have grown thinner, visibly bonier. I know I am at the limits of my patients, I am being tested and driven to the limits of my mental and physical tolerance. Perhaps it is a good thing that I notice it, for otherwise, I might just press on and on and on and suddenly without realising it, break down. If I notice that I am frustrated, troubled, fearing even in my sleep, then I can do something about it; at least I can warn myself, warm my body and my mind, to beware, to take things easier.

It is so much harder when there is nobody at my side with whom I could talk to... There is really nobody here I am close to, with whom I can turn to and pour my frustrations and fears out.

"You have to take care of yourself, or otherwise how can you take care of your mother?" the lady kindly said. She's probably seen plenty of cases of "carer fatigue"-- situations when a carer becomes so overwhelmed s/he becomes overly burdened, depressed, angry, or perhaps even suicidal and loses interest and hope in everything. Absolutely everything.

I am getting help, for a carer is coming tonight to help out just before the operation tomorrow early in the morning. And in less than two weeks, brother and his family (the "European Support Group") are scheduled to return. I am hoping, unlike last time, they will provide some relief and allow me time off so I can go off on my own. I need it. I desperately need time on my own.

"Thank you for calling and being so concerned," I said.

"Don't thank me. I really am concerned..." she answered.

That was touching, for though we have only met and spoken twice, she could see I am struggling. Struggling from day to day, struggling to find rarer occasions to be on my own, struggling to come to terms with all the invasive treatments that seem only to make my mum ever weaker, and ever weaker...

Unwell

All these posts about people and happenings in my life, a change of perspective and turning the attention to me now... Me, whom I've neglected time and again, and rarely really take care.

The long breakup and loss of my best friend and mum's deteriorating health have together really caused me much pain and anxiety over the past year. And for the past four years, there have been other misfortunes and worries along the way... the loss of my dear dad, the loss of my "mother" in the Netherlands, the loss of a close friend, and now confronting my uncle's imminent passing (all because of cancer...), combined with my own unstable and undecided future.  All these reasons, external and internal influences, combine to make me feel like my world is so disturbed and insecure...

Never before, I don't think, have I felt such stress, such emotional pain that often manifests into physical discomfort... at the back of my head, in my bowels, in my back, around my hips. Sometimes, the pain is sudden and sharp, and it goes away after a while. Right now, after an evening of watching mum in great, great discomfort and throwing up two, three times made my stomach churn...

I know I take too much to heart. I tell others to laugh at things, even the most difficult things in life, and I should heed my own advice at times. But I feel as if there are so many, too many, things I should do something about. And yet I am powerless to do or say anything to affect change or influence things. It creates much stress and tensions within, makes me sleep so badly at night, makes me moody and mentally drained... And I feel, perhaps due to some morbid sense of paranoia, as if something is 'growing' inside of me, as if all the traumatic experiences and feelings, the accumulated fatigue and emotional depression and hurt, might feed the growth of malignant cells...

Yes, sometimes when I hurt in my bowels, or at the back of my head, or on my skull, I see images of my own body. Images like those of the scans I have of mum, which I have stored on my computer... images of 'grey areas' growing on the bone... haunting images of 'dark areas' compressing on the nerves and muscles... I see myself, or imagine things, growing... Stress, long term depression, and exposure to traumatic experiences of seeing a loved one sick and become more sick are very toxic cocktails for the anyone's body and mind.

How do I de-stress? How do I worry and fear less? I try to meditate... I try to calm down and breathe... Who can take my anxieties and stop me trembling when I do, help me feel reassured and safe? Who can I turn to, but here, to the faceless, unknown reader who, from a safe distance, reads this depressing account of a lost boy's life woes and worries?

People tell me again and again to take care of myself. They remind me if I fall ill, who will take care of my mother?

I must not fall ill, I must not succumb to any illness or disease of any kind. Mental or physical, and certainly not the illness I fear the most: cancer!

I must be strong, stay strong, and weather the emotional and physical turbulences that come my way!

For if I fall ill, who will take care of me?