The Inevitable

I have a lot to update today.  This entry is meant as a remembrance of the state of my mother today.  We knew she suffers from advanced metastasis of the liver.  We knew that her time is limited.  We were expecting her to be strong as she always have been.  Strong-willed, always wanting her way, the very character of my mother that has always been getting to our nerves, we wish she had it now.

She had.  She wanted to get better.  She withdrew money to have a thanksgiving doa recital upon getting better.  But God is beneficient, compassionate and merciful.  Allah knows what is best for her.  We take comfort from knowing and believing in God's plans for my mother.

I went to Paroi at about 2pm, after lunch at home.  Mak was lying in bed, not unusual, only this time she  does not say much.  Still extending her hand to Harith for the customary handshake, there was no saying "Budak putih ni, budak cantik ni" always her reference to Harith.  There was no saying "cium Uci sikit" and just last week she said "asyik cium yo lah hai budak ni".  She just stared.  And she started to retch.  This time I noticed that her vomit is black in color, my guess it is stale blood.  She said she is in pain everytime she feels nauseous.

Kak Cik and family arrived at 3pm.  In deciding to provide for my mother's comfort, the options were having nurses on 12 hour shift at RM10 per hour or to admit her into KPJ again.  We opted for admitting her into KPJ, and later nurses to cater to her needs.  I called KPJ to request for an ambulance to be dispatched quickly.  They were fast.  After a brief inspection of my mother by the paramedics, she was ushered onto the stretcher and then into the ambulance.

Mak is now admitted into KPJ, room 336.   She hardly says anything anymore.  Apart from communicating that she feels tightness around her chest.  Kak Cik was emotional in seeing Mak in that condition.  She started to cry.  I wonder why I don't cry.  I admit feeling sad but not to the point of crying.

As I was driving home from the hospital, my thoughts were racing from one childhood scene to another. This is the time of the year where we need to buy school books, new school uniforms and shoes.  Mak was doing the same thing with me, even worse since MRSM had three different uniform color combinations.  I remember when I was sick with asthma, both Abah and Mak was at the school very early in the morning to bring me to see a nearby doctor.

As a child I used to have nightmares about losing my father.  I would cry and ask my mother in the middle of the night if Abah is still around.  And to that Mak would say, of course he is still there, you can hear him snoring.  When Abah left us in August 1990, I had difficulty in accepting his death.  I missed him so and argued that I only had 24 years with him (I was 24 in 1990).  I am 44 in 2010.  20 years gives you a bit more maturity, my guess at best.  I suddenly realized that Mak is no different from me where her kids are concerned.  The only difference is just time.  We go through this cycles in life no different than our parents'.

Mak doesn't look like her anymore.  The pain has caused her lips to be a bit lopsided.  I think that was what that made Kak Cik cry.

Taking things a day at a time.  The doctor says Mak's potassium is very low.  And that makes her limbs weak.  Hope that remedy will give her some energy.  Pray that God eases her pain and makes it easier for her.