Rush

I heard some noise and approached mum. I reached her bedside just in time to see her gag. Quickly I scrambled for a plastic bag, and she vomited white mouthfuls of Ensure, the drink that is supposed to contain all necessary nutrients. I gagged too, just a natural reflex. Having just downed a cup of soy drink did not help the nausea and feeling like I want to vomit...

I was in a rush to head out. The monk is definitely coming and I had to be at the main station in half an hour or so. Mum suddenly requested that she would like to have some steamed barley rice, available only at vegetarian food outlets. I had no time to go look for it and bring it back for mum.

As Brother was on his way to the hospital, I decided to call him and ask if he could buy some. He got angry at my request, as if it were such a burden to buy something for mum. I know it's last minute, I know he's busy on his way to have breakfast and has to take care of a child. But this is a request from mum, and he is on his way to the hospital anyway. Irritated, he passed the phone to his wife. I had to explain mum's request again.

I rushed to the station. We are out of fresh fruits, and i was tempted to call back and ask for fruits. But given the reaction I got, I decided to go get them myself. I know best what mum likes, so I got her some picked peaches, pineapples and kiwis. Breakfast I had on the go, a piece of bread and drink I devoured and downed in the four minutes walk to the metro.

On my way to meet the monk...

Unable to eat

I asked this question before: how long can a person last if she were unable to eat?

Brother said he has been trying to see if the hospital can send someone home to administer iv nutrients, because frankly what mum eats during the day is not enough to sustain her bodily needs.

"She told me again she wants to go to the hospital..." Which is something rare, for she detests hospitals. But perhaps she feels that she cannot go on for long without proper nutrition. "But don't worry, don't rush back here. It's not necessary..."

Moments later, mum came on the phone. She "complained" that calling twice a day is calling too often. I tried to joke that it's just breakfast and dinner. I don't call at lunch, because it's far too late for me given the time difference.

"I have so little 'meat' on my arse it hurts to sit long..." she complained. Those words seemed to slide over me, and I did not have a response. I was not sure what I could say that did not sound fake. And truth be told, I was rushing to catch a flight to go see my ex in a last-minute decision I made just a few hours earlier before I fell asleep.

"Nothin tastes the same anymore... I had some grapes and they tasted spicy," mum said. Spicy, as in the taste of chilly. How can something sweet taste like chilly?

"I did have a cup of fruit juice, which your brother made, and I finished it all. But I felt so bloated after that..."

I did not have a proper response to mum's complaints. What could I say? Really, what could I say? So very very little...