"It's good your mum will pass like this..." the carer suddenly said as she was massaging mum's back and I was sitting by mum's bed side. "She's very fortunate to have you [all] around..."
The carer told me once that her own dad passed away from cancer, and that it was very painful for him. Tonight she told me more of the story...
"I was working in Taiwan then, and I asked my employer to let me go. I still had one month left till my contract was over," she recounted. Many overseas workers from Vietnam come to Taiwan to work for a period of three years, after which they can settle debts to the brokerage company that brought them to Taiwan. So the condition is to complete the term of contract, otherwise the employee is faced with a penalty. "I can always earn money, but I only have one father..."
She said she was eventually allowed to go back to Vietnam, and how she spent eight months taking care of her father. Her brother and sister were around, but they stayed only briefly. "In the end, it was very difficult to see. Everytime he eats, he would make a mess as the food would drool out of his mouth... He was in a lot of pain. My brother and sister did not know how to take care of him. Sometimes the didn't even dare touch him..." the carer recalled and lowered her eyes. Mum had her eyes closed, but she opened them briefly, as if she was listening too.
"I remember the first time I returned to Vietnam, my dad and the whole family hired a car to come pick me up at the airport. As we live far in the countryside, it was rare for them to visit Hanoi, so we took a sightseeing trip together. The next time I returned to Vietnam, my dad was not there to pick me up. Not there any more..." Her voice became sad.
Some days ago, I walked with the carer home and passed through an underground walkway. It was an airconditioned walkway, and the corridor was clean and bright. There was even a bank and post office in the walkway. "Vietnam will never be so advanced!" she commented. She said she really likes it in Taiwan, despite being separated from her family and children. She has been in this country for several years, and has worked at a number of hospitals, and cared for a number of cancer patients, and she is amazed by the health care system and how attentive the nurses are.
"In Vietnam, you have to bribe everyone, even the nurse! They'll come and do the minimum. For example, they'll come and change your bandage, but they'll do it very roughly and do a bad job. Of course you can't bare to see your loved one suffer, so you pay them. And they'll treat you better..." I listened and tried to imagine what that is like. I know these places exist, and that so many in the world live in such countries where there is no proper health care system, where good health and sanitation and nutrition is reserved only for those who can pay. And I was reminded again how lucky I am, how lucky my family and my mum is, to be born in a country where the state really takes care of its own people.
Back to the hospice ward, to the sound of mum snoring... "It's good she is not in pain. She's very fortunate," the carer said as she continued to massage mum's back to prevent bed sores. Just then the nurse came in quietly and had such a gentle smile. She just came in to check if everything is alright, and how mum is reacting to the morphine that was administered about half an hour ago.
"Things are fine, thank you..." I said. And I truly am thankful, every single time, and every single day...
Showing posts with label carer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label carer. Show all posts
27 June 2012
26 June 2012
Wednesday 27 June 2012
Woke up to the voice of the nurse: "Are you feeling shortness of breath, auntie? Count to ten slowly and breathe normally..."
Mum had her mouth open. She was gasping for air. Her mouth has been open more or less since last night
when they began administering morphine at regular intervals. The night nurse even asked me whether she should give her the dose at midnight, which I agreed to so that mum would sleep right through the night. Mum was not awake to make that decision. I made it for her, hoping it is the best decision for her.
This morning, mum was in a calm state. She looks restful, and dozes off very quickly. When the carer fed her, she did not throw up. She did not urinate for over ten hours. When I asked her whether she's in pain, she shook her head. She can hear us, but she can not seem to muster any energy to speak.
"It's soon..." the carer said to me, "One of these days..." The carer has been with a number of cancer patients, her own father included, and she told me last night mum is the most peaceful patient she's ever had. The nurse said an open jaw means mum's very relaxed, very relaxed. The nurse reassured me that things are going to be alright. Mum's lips are dry and chapped from breathing through her mouth too much.
I sat by mum's side most of the morning. We didn't speak much, we haven really spoken in a few days now. Now, when I ask something, mum responds with a nod or a shake of get head. Sometimes she would scrunch up her face in disagreement or to express that she really doesn't want something.
I looked at the calendar. It's Wednesday 27 June. Could this be the day...?
Mum had her mouth open. She was gasping for air. Her mouth has been open more or less since last night
when they began administering morphine at regular intervals. The night nurse even asked me whether she should give her the dose at midnight, which I agreed to so that mum would sleep right through the night. Mum was not awake to make that decision. I made it for her, hoping it is the best decision for her.
This morning, mum was in a calm state. She looks restful, and dozes off very quickly. When the carer fed her, she did not throw up. She did not urinate for over ten hours. When I asked her whether she's in pain, she shook her head. She can hear us, but she can not seem to muster any energy to speak.
"It's soon..." the carer said to me, "One of these days..." The carer has been with a number of cancer patients, her own father included, and she told me last night mum is the most peaceful patient she's ever had. The nurse said an open jaw means mum's very relaxed, very relaxed. The nurse reassured me that things are going to be alright. Mum's lips are dry and chapped from breathing through her mouth too much.
I sat by mum's side most of the morning. We didn't speak much, we haven really spoken in a few days now. Now, when I ask something, mum responds with a nod or a shake of get head. Sometimes she would scrunch up her face in disagreement or to express that she really doesn't want something.
I looked at the calendar. It's Wednesday 27 June. Could this be the day...?
19 June 2012
Changes
The carer came into the room. "She's changing..."
I initially didn't understand what she meant.
"Her body is changing. Her body is very yellow, she's excreting less bile now, and she sleeps a lot." She said she just asked mum whether she wanted to drink Ensure, and mum nodded yes. Within the time the carer went to pick up the cup and go back to mum, mum fell asleep, and was snoring.
"It may be soon..."
I initially didn't understand what she meant.
"Her body is changing. Her body is very yellow, she's excreting less bile now, and she sleeps a lot." She said she just asked mum whether she wanted to drink Ensure, and mum nodded yes. Within the time the carer went to pick up the cup and go back to mum, mum fell asleep, and was snoring.
"It may be soon..."
Night nurse
The night nurse came in for an inspection at half past ten. I was just about to retire to my little room and mattress on the floor when she came in. It was the same kind nurse who shared with me her experience of terminally ill patients and what signs to look for at the end...
The carer described mum's condition today and how much she ate and expelled. "Half a can of Ensure, half a cup of fruit juice, then nothing after ten in the morning," she said, "And for dinner, six spoonfuls of congee, two mouthfuls of vegetables. That's it." I was here almost all the time, and that really was it. Even the two pieces of wonton I saved her for lunch were uneaten, and I had to finish eating them at dinner...
"And she's not expelled much," the carer added, "Nothing since lunch time" Which was over six hours ago. I looked at the nurse to see her reaction. She stayed quiet, and looked like she was deep in thought. Was she thinking what I was thinking? Was she thinking what she told me the other day about patients not expelling much towards the end...?
Mum lay on her side, and she groaned a little. All this exchange took place in a whisper. I said not a thing, but just sat on the side as the nurse and the carer conversed about mum's condition... I looked at mum, looked at the nurse and carer. Again, there was a moment of realisation...
It may not be long...
The carer described mum's condition today and how much she ate and expelled. "Half a can of Ensure, half a cup of fruit juice, then nothing after ten in the morning," she said, "And for dinner, six spoonfuls of congee, two mouthfuls of vegetables. That's it." I was here almost all the time, and that really was it. Even the two pieces of wonton I saved her for lunch were uneaten, and I had to finish eating them at dinner...
"And she's not expelled much," the carer added, "Nothing since lunch time" Which was over six hours ago. I looked at the nurse to see her reaction. She stayed quiet, and looked like she was deep in thought. Was she thinking what I was thinking? Was she thinking what she told me the other day about patients not expelling much towards the end...?
Mum lay on her side, and she groaned a little. All this exchange took place in a whisper. I said not a thing, but just sat on the side as the nurse and the carer conversed about mum's condition... I looked at mum, looked at the nurse and carer. Again, there was a moment of realisation...
It may not be long...
13 June 2012
The carer
130612.1610
There's been a change of carer since I left, and I met her for the first time yesterday as soon as I walked through the door of Room 20 of Ward 211. She's a middle aged lady originally from (North) Vietnam, and her marriage to a Taiwanese husband brought her here many years ago.
She's probably just ten years or so younger than mum, and has this "motherly" look about her. I found out that she has two children of her own back in Vietnam, a girl who is just about finished high school, and a boy who's working now and doing college at night. So she is a mother, a hard working mother trying to make a living and support her family. I don't like to call her by her name, and instead call her "auntie" I've heard her laugh and talk at times when I call home, and it is interesting to put a face to the voice.
Mum says the carer is very loyal and dedicated. She massages mum whenever mum feels discomfort, she spoonfeeds mum and knows what mum likes and does not like. She really takes care of mum and tries to make her comfortable, which is exactly what mum needs right now. It really is very reassuring, for mum's every need is taken care of. It really is very different from back then, in March and April, when I had to more or less handle everything on my own. Brother has told me once or twice already to let the carer do things, like empty the garbage or wash the dishes, but I'm still not used to that. I really feel strange asking someone else, especially someone older, to do something I could easily do...
To be honest, I feel a bit "left out", because everything is being taken care of by the carer and sometimes I feel like I'm just standing there while she does what I used to do for mum-- ad does it all the better than I ever did or could.
This afternoon, we all sat down around mum and asked the auntie to stay on. We weren't sure if she would be willing, or whether she liked working for/with us. We would like her to stay, so we don't have to go through that whole adjustment process again when the new foreign carer we applied for comes at the end of the month. It really takes time and effort on both sides to get to know habits and to get used to ways of talking and interacting. And frankly, mum needs to be in a stable and secure environment, surrounded by people who she trusts and feels affinity towards. Surrounded by people who know her needs and can accommodate them.
The carer said yes, she would stay on. And there was a sigh of relief. We were all reassured and mum looked at ease.
Though, the carer put her agreement to stay on in such a way that was perhaps too blunt. "There may not be too much time, and I want to stay till the end..." Maybe it's a language issue, words being lost in translation, and I know that is the reality of things, but still, I was afraid of how mum might feel being reminded of that. The carer said she's aware of the situation, and she had proposed it earlier to my sister-in-law, and even declined another job offer because she did not know how long she would be needed.
We just have to try and figure out how to deal with details like retaining her services and see whether we can bypass the agent (human resources agency) so that the carer does not have to have a fee taken away from her salary.
She sits quietly by mum's bed a lot, often massaging mum and every so often asks mum whether she's hungry or thirsty. I may feel a little left out because she's doing a lot of what I used to do, but she's also doing much more. Helping mum get cleaned up, bathing her (with the aid of nurses in this amazing tub that has a " lift" to lower the patient slowly into the water for a deep cleanse...), helping mum use the washroom, emptying the bile that is collecting in the pouch at mum's right side. And the carer cleans and does household chores too, which makes me feel "bad" because she seems to hardly have time to rest.
Her presence is greatly appreciated, and it gives brother and me time take care of other things, and time to cook or buy what mum likes to eat or drink.
On this last stage of the journey, having extra support and someone to take care of mum means so much...
There's been a change of carer since I left, and I met her for the first time yesterday as soon as I walked through the door of Room 20 of Ward 211. She's a middle aged lady originally from (North) Vietnam, and her marriage to a Taiwanese husband brought her here many years ago.
She's probably just ten years or so younger than mum, and has this "motherly" look about her. I found out that she has two children of her own back in Vietnam, a girl who is just about finished high school, and a boy who's working now and doing college at night. So she is a mother, a hard working mother trying to make a living and support her family. I don't like to call her by her name, and instead call her "auntie" I've heard her laugh and talk at times when I call home, and it is interesting to put a face to the voice.
Mum says the carer is very loyal and dedicated. She massages mum whenever mum feels discomfort, she spoonfeeds mum and knows what mum likes and does not like. She really takes care of mum and tries to make her comfortable, which is exactly what mum needs right now. It really is very reassuring, for mum's every need is taken care of. It really is very different from back then, in March and April, when I had to more or less handle everything on my own. Brother has told me once or twice already to let the carer do things, like empty the garbage or wash the dishes, but I'm still not used to that. I really feel strange asking someone else, especially someone older, to do something I could easily do...
To be honest, I feel a bit "left out", because everything is being taken care of by the carer and sometimes I feel like I'm just standing there while she does what I used to do for mum-- ad does it all the better than I ever did or could.
This afternoon, we all sat down around mum and asked the auntie to stay on. We weren't sure if she would be willing, or whether she liked working for/with us. We would like her to stay, so we don't have to go through that whole adjustment process again when the new foreign carer we applied for comes at the end of the month. It really takes time and effort on both sides to get to know habits and to get used to ways of talking and interacting. And frankly, mum needs to be in a stable and secure environment, surrounded by people who she trusts and feels affinity towards. Surrounded by people who know her needs and can accommodate them.
The carer said yes, she would stay on. And there was a sigh of relief. We were all reassured and mum looked at ease.
Though, the carer put her agreement to stay on in such a way that was perhaps too blunt. "There may not be too much time, and I want to stay till the end..." Maybe it's a language issue, words being lost in translation, and I know that is the reality of things, but still, I was afraid of how mum might feel being reminded of that. The carer said she's aware of the situation, and she had proposed it earlier to my sister-in-law, and even declined another job offer because she did not know how long she would be needed.
We just have to try and figure out how to deal with details like retaining her services and see whether we can bypass the agent (human resources agency) so that the carer does not have to have a fee taken away from her salary.
She sits quietly by mum's bed a lot, often massaging mum and every so often asks mum whether she's hungry or thirsty. I may feel a little left out because she's doing a lot of what I used to do, but she's also doing much more. Helping mum get cleaned up, bathing her (with the aid of nurses in this amazing tub that has a " lift" to lower the patient slowly into the water for a deep cleanse...), helping mum use the washroom, emptying the bile that is collecting in the pouch at mum's right side. And the carer cleans and does household chores too, which makes me feel "bad" because she seems to hardly have time to rest.
Her presence is greatly appreciated, and it gives brother and me time take care of other things, and time to cook or buy what mum likes to eat or drink.
On this last stage of the journey, having extra support and someone to take care of mum means so much...
01 June 2012
Going to the market
I called mum and she was on her way to the market. For a bit of fresh air, but also to see what there is to buy. The new carer, as kind and patient as she is, does not really know what to buy or cook.
"Can you stand and walk nowadays?" I asked.
"It's hard. I can't stand stably. I have very little strength..."
I can just imagine her so weak and slumped in her wheelchair.
"Don't come back here," she suddenly said, "Stay for a while, there's no place to stay as the house is very crowded." she told me to go back only at the end of the month. "When brother is gone..."
I don't think mum has any idea that brother is staying on till... I don't think she knows how afraid he is to leave mum's side.
"It's such a big burden for him to be here and not working..."
"Don't think too much, mama. Don't think too much. There is no burden."
"Can you stand and walk nowadays?" I asked.
"It's hard. I can't stand stably. I have very little strength..."
I can just imagine her so weak and slumped in her wheelchair.
"Don't come back here," she suddenly said, "Stay for a while, there's no place to stay as the house is very crowded." she told me to go back only at the end of the month. "When brother is gone..."
I don't think mum has any idea that brother is staying on till... I don't think she knows how afraid he is to leave mum's side.
"It's such a big burden for him to be here and not working..."
"Don't think too much, mama. Don't think too much. There is no burden."
09 May 2012
Back home...
I called home again, and it was a bit worrying that after two calls there was no reply. So I called my brother on Skype, and the call was rejected. My mind began to imagine all the things that may be happening... Emergency rush to the hospital... Accidental fall? Severe bleeding? High fever?
Then brother called back. Relief... The home phone was unplugged for some reason. Things are alright, though for the past two nights, mum has been running a high fever, 39C the night before, 38C last night. It's worrying, especially in her current state of health, and especially after what the doctor said about rushing to ER should she develop a fever. But luckily, with some icing and wipes with cold towels, mum's temperature subsides and comes down to normal. Mum says perhaps it is due to the winter blanket she is still using, when it is already Summer.
It feels strange to talk to mum at a distance and through a video screen now, especially after I have constantly been around her for the past four months. Stranger to see her lying down in her bed everytime I call. But she said she does feel a bit more energetic, at least better than before. Yesterday, brother posted pictures of him wheeling my mum to the park nearby in her new wheelchair. There was a scene in which mum is sitting side by side next to the baby buggy. Brother captioned it a "four wheeled race". I smiled at that, from afar, and wished I had been there to see mum's face as she smiled looking at my nephew in his race-car (pram). "Remember to go out again today!" I told her. She said it hurts when the wheelchair goes over the uneven pavement, especially where she has an open wound with the bile tube connected, but also where she recently had the bypass surgery. Even so, she must go out and walk about more and get more exposure to the sun and fresh air. It will do her good.
So it has been four days since the carer came to our house. My brother was talking to her today about the possibility of having her around for the long term. She proposed to have a set wage and to forgo the agent. It does seem like a good idea, especially as it would spare us, and in particular mum, the trouble of finding, training and getting used to a whole new carer. Wait a bit more and see how things are so you can have a better assessment, I suggested.
Seems like things are going relatively well, or at least stable so far. It does reassure my mind, but in some little way, suspicious and perhaps too thoughtful as I can be, I do wonder whether they are not telling me things so as not to worry me and distract me from my exam next week.
06 May 2012
Cam on rat nhieu!
06052012.2240
I placed a little note, quietly and clandestinely in the carer's pillow when she was not looking. I looked up the words I wanted to express online.
"Cam on rat nhieu!" (accents are missing!)
She was surprised and smiled when she saw my note. She asked who put that there, and I admitted it was me.
"Thank you so much," I said to her, as I gently placed my hand on her shoulder, "Thank you for taking care of my mum."
It came from my heart, which in seeing her at work around the house over the past two days is filled with indescribably gratitude. This morning, she walked up to mum's bed and smiled so brightly and told mum to get up in an energetic and motivating voice. "Auntie, get up and exercise!" she said, and waved her arms around to demonstrate how to train the flexibility of the arms and hands. Later, when mum mentioned she wanted to eat pho, she went out and tried to get all the necessary ingredients and made a light and very appetising chicken pho soup. Seeing mum eat a bowl of it without throwing up filled my heart with joy and gratitude to the girl (she's around my age).
"Don't you worry! Just go back and work hard, and call home often!" she said to me.
"I will," I said, and deep down I was thinking that perhaps I'll be calling too often! Twice, thrice a day!
I placed a little note, quietly and clandestinely in the carer's pillow when she was not looking. I looked up the words I wanted to express online.
"Cam on rat nhieu!" (accents are missing!)
She was surprised and smiled when she saw my note. She asked who put that there, and I admitted it was me.
"Thank you so much," I said to her, as I gently placed my hand on her shoulder, "Thank you for taking care of my mum."
It came from my heart, which in seeing her at work around the house over the past two days is filled with indescribably gratitude. This morning, she walked up to mum's bed and smiled so brightly and told mum to get up in an energetic and motivating voice. "Auntie, get up and exercise!" she said, and waved her arms around to demonstrate how to train the flexibility of the arms and hands. Later, when mum mentioned she wanted to eat pho, she went out and tried to get all the necessary ingredients and made a light and very appetising chicken pho soup. Seeing mum eat a bowl of it without throwing up filled my heart with joy and gratitude to the girl (she's around my age).
"Don't you worry! Just go back and work hard, and call home often!" she said to me.
"I will," I said, and deep down I was thinking that perhaps I'll be calling too often! Twice, thrice a day!
05 May 2012
38.7C
The ear thermometer kept on beeping and flashed red. A warning. Mum's body is burning at 38.7C.
The doctor told us to return to emergency when she has a fever. But she does not want to go.
The carer, brother and I are by her side. She is keeping mum cool with ice and a cold cloth.
It'll be a long night...
The doctor told us to return to emergency when she has a fever. But she does not want to go.
The carer, brother and I are by her side. She is keeping mum cool with ice and a cold cloth.
It'll be a long night...
Live-in carer
05052012.1917
After the row there was relative calm. After several calls to contacts of my sister-in-law's mother, brother managed to track down a lady who could come by as soon as the next day. We were all relieved, and I think most of all mum and also brother.
I reconciled with him and explained my out-lash at the hospital earlier. "It's not that I'm angry at you. I know it's hard to be suddenly thrown into all this and not know what to do. But you have to try, and you have to show some initiative." Brother did that by making arrangements and securing a new carer to come.
That night I slept next to mum's bed, the same thing I've done since before she went into hospital. It was tense, and I hardly slept, for I was afraid of her condition just after being discharged.
The door bell rang shortly after eight. It was the agent and the new carer. They came in, and I let brother do all the talking. I let him take charge, let him take responsibility, for a large part of the reason to be back is to get him (more) involved in mum's health and condition, to make him feel useful. Whatever happens, he can look back and say, and mum can look back and see, brother was there, brother was part of "journey's end", however lob that end may be.
The new carer is a young Vietnamese lady, not much different in age from me. She married a Taiwanese husband and came to Taiwan three years ago, and has been working as a carer for a while, sometimes at home, sometimes in the hospital. She was quiet at first, but soon opened up, and I began to introduce her to all the essential things surrounding mum's condition, her needs, and what she likes and dislikes.
Immediately, the girl got to work, helping mum up, massaging her and washing her face. It was a promising start, and a bit later I took her around the local area to show her the market(s) and the stores where mum likes to buy her foods and veggies.
I got talking to her and got to know her more over the next few days, exchanging life experiences, talking about cultural similarities
and differences (more the former) between Taiwan and Vietnam. I guess as we are around the same age, it was easy to talk to her and vice versa. I just want to make her feel comfortable and "at home", and hope that if she feels at ease, she will do a good job takin care of mum.
To be honest, I felt a bit uncomfortable being the "employer"-- and I'm ever catching myself seeing images i've seen in the news of mean bosses who abuse their carers or deduct their wages "just because they can". I'm not used to the idea of having someone do things that I used to do, like cooking and cleaning. But I guess I had to start to learn to let go and delegate, especially as the day of my departed ticked closer and closer.
After the row there was relative calm. After several calls to contacts of my sister-in-law's mother, brother managed to track down a lady who could come by as soon as the next day. We were all relieved, and I think most of all mum and also brother.
I reconciled with him and explained my out-lash at the hospital earlier. "It's not that I'm angry at you. I know it's hard to be suddenly thrown into all this and not know what to do. But you have to try, and you have to show some initiative." Brother did that by making arrangements and securing a new carer to come.
That night I slept next to mum's bed, the same thing I've done since before she went into hospital. It was tense, and I hardly slept, for I was afraid of her condition just after being discharged.
The door bell rang shortly after eight. It was the agent and the new carer. They came in, and I let brother do all the talking. I let him take charge, let him take responsibility, for a large part of the reason to be back is to get him (more) involved in mum's health and condition, to make him feel useful. Whatever happens, he can look back and say, and mum can look back and see, brother was there, brother was part of "journey's end", however lob that end may be.
The new carer is a young Vietnamese lady, not much different in age from me. She married a Taiwanese husband and came to Taiwan three years ago, and has been working as a carer for a while, sometimes at home, sometimes in the hospital. She was quiet at first, but soon opened up, and I began to introduce her to all the essential things surrounding mum's condition, her needs, and what she likes and dislikes.
Immediately, the girl got to work, helping mum up, massaging her and washing her face. It was a promising start, and a bit later I took her around the local area to show her the market(s) and the stores where mum likes to buy her foods and veggies.
I got talking to her and got to know her more over the next few days, exchanging life experiences, talking about cultural similarities
and differences (more the former) between Taiwan and Vietnam. I guess as we are around the same age, it was easy to talk to her and vice versa. I just want to make her feel comfortable and "at home", and hope that if she feels at ease, she will do a good job takin care of mum.
To be honest, I felt a bit uncomfortable being the "employer"-- and I'm ever catching myself seeing images i've seen in the news of mean bosses who abuse their carers or deduct their wages "just because they can". I'm not used to the idea of having someone do things that I used to do, like cooking and cleaning. But I guess I had to start to learn to let go and delegate, especially as the day of my departed ticked closer and closer.
04 May 2012
In Chiayi
04052012.0304
Arrived in the late afternoon, and first stop was my aunt's place. She (dad's older sister) was surprised, but happy to see me, for it's been a while since we last really connected and talked. Last time I saw her, earlier on Monday, I did not say goodbye, but quietly left after the farewell ceremony. It's part of tradition here: you don't say goodbye or keep the guests for longer than necessary. You just leave.
We caught up on news, and my aunt revealed how in the last month or so of my uncle's life, she was constantly in hospital, afraid to even go home. He weighed 46kg (or so) when he passed away. Before, he was a strong man who stood almost as tall as me...
"He told me he wanted to see the grandchildren grow up..." she said, after I showed her pictures of my nephew and said what happiness children bring to a patient's life. Children give them smiles, hope, and positive energy. Her eyes became red and moist.
I left a little later to visit my uncle (dad's youngest brother). A bachelor still at 62, he's the oddball of the family. I spend a lot of time with him whenever I am in my parents' hometown, because he's by himself, but also because he likes to bike around like I do. We took our usual route, to visit my grandma's resting, and later went to the old folks' community centre for a session of karaoke. I can't sing for my life, but as it was just me and him, I sang- at times mockingly and with a funny taiwanese accent, at times with soul and feelings, especially songs about love and longings for an illusive partner.
I am spending the night at my mum's youngest sister's place, the one who over the past few years has periodically gone up to taipei to be with my mum whenever she needs help around the house. She was a great relief over the past few months, and without her I would have not gotten the few hours of solitude and time to go home go shower and rest.
My aunt and I chatted, mostly about mum. Earlier, when I spoke to mum she said the doctor told she can be discharged as early as tomorrow. But she is worried to go home, for who will take care of her? She can barely walk a few steps, let alone clean herself well or cook for herself. Who will take care of her and look after her needs, something she took for granted at the hospital for she had access to a 24hr carer? I'm leaving in three days, I can no longer be around and keep a constant ear and eye out for mum's well being. And Brother certainly is not up to the task, as well intentioned as he may be. As for my sister-in-law... Well, she's just very distant and handsoff, and she has her hands full with taking care of my nephew...
My aunt said she will go up in a few days, and told me not to worry too much. "Go back and co concentrate on your exam. Your uncles and aunts will take care of things here..."
I don't know what will happen, but my aunt mentioned that around two weeks ago, mum expressed interest to come back down south back to her hometown, where most of her siblings are, so she can have people to look out for her and take care of her in this crucial period of recovery. Mum never mentioned this to me, but if she is willing, if she really means what she said to my aunt, then it may be a good idea, for she needs all the family support and help she can get, and tree is no better place than back here in Chiayi, where all her closest family members are. But mum has a thing with being picky, and being difficult when it comes to asking for help... Maybe she said things back then for the sake of it, because she really never mentioned any of this to me.
Arrived in the late afternoon, and first stop was my aunt's place. She (dad's older sister) was surprised, but happy to see me, for it's been a while since we last really connected and talked. Last time I saw her, earlier on Monday, I did not say goodbye, but quietly left after the farewell ceremony. It's part of tradition here: you don't say goodbye or keep the guests for longer than necessary. You just leave.
We caught up on news, and my aunt revealed how in the last month or so of my uncle's life, she was constantly in hospital, afraid to even go home. He weighed 46kg (or so) when he passed away. Before, he was a strong man who stood almost as tall as me...
"He told me he wanted to see the grandchildren grow up..." she said, after I showed her pictures of my nephew and said what happiness children bring to a patient's life. Children give them smiles, hope, and positive energy. Her eyes became red and moist.
I left a little later to visit my uncle (dad's youngest brother). A bachelor still at 62, he's the oddball of the family. I spend a lot of time with him whenever I am in my parents' hometown, because he's by himself, but also because he likes to bike around like I do. We took our usual route, to visit my grandma's resting, and later went to the old folks' community centre for a session of karaoke. I can't sing for my life, but as it was just me and him, I sang- at times mockingly and with a funny taiwanese accent, at times with soul and feelings, especially songs about love and longings for an illusive partner.
I am spending the night at my mum's youngest sister's place, the one who over the past few years has periodically gone up to taipei to be with my mum whenever she needs help around the house. She was a great relief over the past few months, and without her I would have not gotten the few hours of solitude and time to go home go shower and rest.
My aunt and I chatted, mostly about mum. Earlier, when I spoke to mum she said the doctor told she can be discharged as early as tomorrow. But she is worried to go home, for who will take care of her? She can barely walk a few steps, let alone clean herself well or cook for herself. Who will take care of her and look after her needs, something she took for granted at the hospital for she had access to a 24hr carer? I'm leaving in three days, I can no longer be around and keep a constant ear and eye out for mum's well being. And Brother certainly is not up to the task, as well intentioned as he may be. As for my sister-in-law... Well, she's just very distant and handsoff, and she has her hands full with taking care of my nephew...
My aunt said she will go up in a few days, and told me not to worry too much. "Go back and co concentrate on your exam. Your uncles and aunts will take care of things here..."
I don't know what will happen, but my aunt mentioned that around two weeks ago, mum expressed interest to come back down south back to her hometown, where most of her siblings are, so she can have people to look out for her and take care of her in this crucial period of recovery. Mum never mentioned this to me, but if she is willing, if she really means what she said to my aunt, then it may be a good idea, for she needs all the family support and help she can get, and tree is no better place than back here in Chiayi, where all her closest family members are. But mum has a thing with being picky, and being difficult when it comes to asking for help... Maybe she said things back then for the sake of it, because she really never mentioned any of this to me.
Hospital Carer
04053012.1729
I could not contain my tears or wavering voice as I handed her the red envelop. It contained a little money I wanted to give her, and nobody else knew about it for it was my idea, and comes from me (and my wallet)
"Please, auntie, take it. It's a little something from my heart. I cannot say how much you've been a help to us..." I started to tear uncontrollably as those words escaped my mouth. "You really cared for my mum very well..."
It's been almost two weeks since we hired her. In total we had four carers, and she is nothing compared to the rest. She is caring, really genuinely cares, and she gives mum massages that have really made the swelling of her feet and the bloated feelings of her stomach go away. And whenever it's meal time, she'd think hard about mum's nutritional needs, and for severals days even went back to her own home to cook rice and noodles for mum. Sure she can be a tad talkative at times, but she radiates positive energy, and is very experienced in caregiving. And she speaks Taiwanese, or at least Hokkien (for she is from Xiamen, across the Taiwan Strait where they speak the same language as most people in Taiwan do), which adds that extra touch of familiarity and warmth--something mum has been hoping for in a carer. Though mum's health is still frail, she has on certain days looked really happy and had a reddish glow on her cheeks. I think in part thanks to the carer.
"Please take this," I said as she resisted and pushed the red envelop back into my hand, "You've really done a lot for us, and I appreciate it with my heart..." I patted her on the shoulder and felt my eyes dampen again. I know she gets paid, but for all the little things that she does more than the rest who have come before her, for feeling down when mum cannot eat or when her health deteriorates, for feeling joy when mum eats a lot and is looking healthy and feeling fine, the least I could do was show a token of appreciation. For not only has the carer helped mum, but she has also helped me, by taken a lot of weight ad worries off of my shoulders, by given me time to study (even though toward the end I did not really make much use of the time....).
I could not contain my tears or wavering voice as I handed her the red envelop. It contained a little money I wanted to give her, and nobody else knew about it for it was my idea, and comes from me (and my wallet)
"Please, auntie, take it. It's a little something from my heart. I cannot say how much you've been a help to us..." I started to tear uncontrollably as those words escaped my mouth. "You really cared for my mum very well..."
It's been almost two weeks since we hired her. In total we had four carers, and she is nothing compared to the rest. She is caring, really genuinely cares, and she gives mum massages that have really made the swelling of her feet and the bloated feelings of her stomach go away. And whenever it's meal time, she'd think hard about mum's nutritional needs, and for severals days even went back to her own home to cook rice and noodles for mum. Sure she can be a tad talkative at times, but she radiates positive energy, and is very experienced in caregiving. And she speaks Taiwanese, or at least Hokkien (for she is from Xiamen, across the Taiwan Strait where they speak the same language as most people in Taiwan do), which adds that extra touch of familiarity and warmth--something mum has been hoping for in a carer. Though mum's health is still frail, she has on certain days looked really happy and had a reddish glow on her cheeks. I think in part thanks to the carer.
"Please take this," I said as she resisted and pushed the red envelop back into my hand, "You've really done a lot for us, and I appreciate it with my heart..." I patted her on the shoulder and felt my eyes dampen again. I know she gets paid, but for all the little things that she does more than the rest who have come before her, for feeling down when mum cannot eat or when her health deteriorates, for feeling joy when mum eats a lot and is looking healthy and feeling fine, the least I could do was show a token of appreciation. For not only has the carer helped mum, but she has also helped me, by taken a lot of weight ad worries off of my shoulders, by given me time to study (even though toward the end I did not really make much use of the time....).
Checking out
04052012.1345
We fought in front of mum, which I know is not pleasant for her to see. In the chaos of checking out the hospital, with so many things to pack, and documents to sign, bills to pay for, and follow up appointments to be made, it did not help that brother made a fuss about what happens after mum returns home.
"I can't take care of her! I don't know what to do!" he kept on saying.
I got upset. "What about me? Did I know what to do? You just learn as you go along!" I retorted, "I can't believe that you two cannot manage to take care of mum when I managed by myself all these months!" I know, it doesn't help to deescalate the situation, but it's been bothering me. He's not even tried to do much since he got back home (admittedly, he was struck down by the cold, but still, he has so far done sorrily little for mum or spent much time with her.
As brother and I exchanged words, mum lay languishing in bed, in great discomfort. I didn't expect him to miraculously know what to do, nor did I expect him to give mum (frankly...) the same level of attentiveness and care I give her. But I did just want him to take some initiative. Take some Initiative, not just be away with his family in another part of the country while mum needs support and as I am about to leave.
Brother got upset when I shouted back at him, something I rarely do. And he started to just throw things around as he packed them. Very mature. "Is this how you want to be?" I asked him, "How can you make mum so insecure and feel some uncomfortable about going home, when she's been so looking forward to returning to the comfort of her own home after being in hospital for so many weeks?"
The main problem is that we've gotten used to having a 24hr carer over the past two weeks. She has even exceptionally good at making mum feel assured, and making sure mum eats and gets up to exercise and walk about at regular intervals. And importantly, the carer could help mum go to the washroom and shower, which can be an awkward experience if I or brother both boys, were to do it. At first we thought that perhaps she could come back home with us, at least for a few days for us to find another live-in carer, but her agent refused to let her go home with us, and arranged for another shift at the hospital as soon as they heard mum could be discharged. That was the reason for brother's panic. he even proposed that mum stay in hospital a few more days so we can take advantage of the carer in the hospital, which was ridiculous, as mum, if she could and had the energy to, would sooner jump out of her hospital bed and rush home. She has been so looking forward to going home!
But panic, and a bit of angry goading from me, is good. Brother got on the phone and started calling and making arrangements, trying to get ahold of human resources agencies who could dispatch a carer within short notice.
I sat with mum and tried to reassure her it would be alright, told her not to be afraid. Deep down, I was planning to change my departure if need be, to stay around to help out more so brother does not become overwhelmed and lost.
We wheeled mum out the hospital, the first time she breathed fresh air, the first time she left the hospital building since she checked in on 20 March. She was very frail, still very weak. I held her hand throughout the ride home. "Almost home," I told her, "it's been far too long..."
When she got off the taxi, there was a step, and she could barely make that step. Her legs had really very little strength, her body had very controllability. It was then that I saw she really needed help, and that it would be a long, tricky road ahead for her to recover and be well enough to walk around on her own. If ever.
We put mum in her own bed. I had rushed home straight from my trip south and before I headed to the hospital to tidy her room a little and make it presentable. Most important of all, I put the mattress top I bought her clandestinely over her bed and under fresh, clean sheets. I hoped she would not notice, but how could she not when there's an obvious difference in "elevation" between where there is a memory foam padding and where there is none?
"What did you buy?" mum asked as she lay on it, "How much was it? How much?"
I didn't answer her question, or at least I answered her with a question. "Is it comfortable? It's supposed to support your whole body so you feel less sores and pains." And that is all that matters, however many times she asked me the price, and even saying she would go back to that store to check the price on her customer records.
"It doesn't matter how much. You're home now and I hope comfortable..."
We fought in front of mum, which I know is not pleasant for her to see. In the chaos of checking out the hospital, with so many things to pack, and documents to sign, bills to pay for, and follow up appointments to be made, it did not help that brother made a fuss about what happens after mum returns home.
"I can't take care of her! I don't know what to do!" he kept on saying.
I got upset. "What about me? Did I know what to do? You just learn as you go along!" I retorted, "I can't believe that you two cannot manage to take care of mum when I managed by myself all these months!" I know, it doesn't help to deescalate the situation, but it's been bothering me. He's not even tried to do much since he got back home (admittedly, he was struck down by the cold, but still, he has so far done sorrily little for mum or spent much time with her.
As brother and I exchanged words, mum lay languishing in bed, in great discomfort. I didn't expect him to miraculously know what to do, nor did I expect him to give mum (frankly...) the same level of attentiveness and care I give her. But I did just want him to take some initiative. Take some Initiative, not just be away with his family in another part of the country while mum needs support and as I am about to leave.
Brother got upset when I shouted back at him, something I rarely do. And he started to just throw things around as he packed them. Very mature. "Is this how you want to be?" I asked him, "How can you make mum so insecure and feel some uncomfortable about going home, when she's been so looking forward to returning to the comfort of her own home after being in hospital for so many weeks?"
The main problem is that we've gotten used to having a 24hr carer over the past two weeks. She has even exceptionally good at making mum feel assured, and making sure mum eats and gets up to exercise and walk about at regular intervals. And importantly, the carer could help mum go to the washroom and shower, which can be an awkward experience if I or brother both boys, were to do it. At first we thought that perhaps she could come back home with us, at least for a few days for us to find another live-in carer, but her agent refused to let her go home with us, and arranged for another shift at the hospital as soon as they heard mum could be discharged. That was the reason for brother's panic. he even proposed that mum stay in hospital a few more days so we can take advantage of the carer in the hospital, which was ridiculous, as mum, if she could and had the energy to, would sooner jump out of her hospital bed and rush home. She has been so looking forward to going home!
But panic, and a bit of angry goading from me, is good. Brother got on the phone and started calling and making arrangements, trying to get ahold of human resources agencies who could dispatch a carer within short notice.
I sat with mum and tried to reassure her it would be alright, told her not to be afraid. Deep down, I was planning to change my departure if need be, to stay around to help out more so brother does not become overwhelmed and lost.
We wheeled mum out the hospital, the first time she breathed fresh air, the first time she left the hospital building since she checked in on 20 March. She was very frail, still very weak. I held her hand throughout the ride home. "Almost home," I told her, "it's been far too long..."
When she got off the taxi, there was a step, and she could barely make that step. Her legs had really very little strength, her body had very controllability. It was then that I saw she really needed help, and that it would be a long, tricky road ahead for her to recover and be well enough to walk around on her own. If ever.
We put mum in her own bed. I had rushed home straight from my trip south and before I headed to the hospital to tidy her room a little and make it presentable. Most important of all, I put the mattress top I bought her clandestinely over her bed and under fresh, clean sheets. I hoped she would not notice, but how could she not when there's an obvious difference in "elevation" between where there is a memory foam padding and where there is none?"What did you buy?" mum asked as she lay on it, "How much was it? How much?"
I didn't answer her question, or at least I answered her with a question. "Is it comfortable? It's supposed to support your whole body so you feel less sores and pains." And that is all that matters, however many times she asked me the price, and even saying she would go back to that store to check the price on her customer records.
"It doesn't matter how much. You're home now and I hope comfortable..."
17 April 2012
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?
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