Mommy
It's been almost 6 months since last I posted on my blog, and a lot has happened. This is probably the worst year of my life. When I made my post in January, I didn't know that my life will be changed so much.
My mom died.
There's a superstition that how you started the year will determine your fortune for the rest of the year. New Year's Day 2013 wasn't exactly a bad one, but it wasn't as exciting as it was before. My mom wasn't feeling too well then. She felt nauseated a lot of times, puking in the bathroom at least once a day. At this point she's lost some weight. I don't know why we never considered it a serious illness. We thought she was just having her usual ulcer attacks. It didn't help that my client was delayed in paying my salary, so I couldn't ask her to go to the hospital to have herself checked. She knew my money situation too, and since I supported my parents since I started working 9 years ago, she probably felt that it would be too much to ask me for some help.
She endured her ailment until after my trip from Hong Kong. By that time my client paid me, and I had the money for my trip. It was a fun trip, the weather in Hong Kong was cold, and it was the first time I think I experienced cold like that. When I returned I found out she went to the hospital to have herself checked. My parents borrowed the money I allotted for my mortgage, and I was fine with that. The initial findings were gall stones, something that was easy to cure, according to the doctors. They gave my mother medicines that will "dissolve" the stones so that it will become smaller and pass through her bile duct.
By February she's noticeably thinner, and she looked older than her years. I celebrated my birthday in my brother's house with a simple feast and some karaoke time, while my mother rested the whole day in my house just beside my brother's. Her birthday was exactly 2 weeks after mine, and she was more energetic then. We also had some simple feast, again at my brother's house. At this point she and my father are now staying at my house beside my brother's so that someone can watch over them. I stayed in my parent's house because their Internet was better and I needed it for my work. During this month until early March she continued with lab tests prescribed by her doctor.
Our world changed in March. I received a text from my sister that mom was diagnosed with stage 3 cholangiocarcinoma, and that it was incurable. My heart dropped and I wanted to cry then. But I held my emotions in check. I was working in front of a computer when I received the text, so I immediately researched on the cancer. It is commonly called bile duct cancer, and the mortality rate was 100% after 5 years. By that point I knew that my mom was dying.
When she came home, she confirmed the news. We're not an emotional family. We do not hug, nor "cry on each other shoulders." It was probably easier for everyone. My mom was nonchalant about telling me of her cancer, and I shrugged it off, like it was something serious but can be fixed. I told her that it was probably a mistake on the doctor's part. In my mind, I told myself that by not focusing on the problem, it will go away.
Because of the type of cancer that she got, it affected her health quickly. She didn't weigh much at that point, and since she always threw up the food that she ate, she lacked the nutrition that a body needs, and she slowly wasted away. It came to a point where she could barely walk without assistance. She went back and forth to a hospital near their house so that she could keep her potassium levels in check (which is vital to a human's health). I still worked at their house, but I sometimes sleep over at my house just to be with her.
My mom had always been a hot head, and my father did too, so they had fights frequently. But the next day they will be back to normal. We're luckily that my father is strong for his age, so he took care of my mother as she slowly wilts away. On April 7, a Sunday, we brought her to the hospital because of low potassium levels again, and when we arrived in the emergency room, I thought it was too late. I was already teary eyed then, thinking of the worst. But we received some good news that they were able to revive my mother. She specifically asked for me, and at first I was bewildered why she was looking for me. So when I approached her, she asked me if she's still ok. I told her yes. She then closed her eyes and she fell asleep.
She was under medicine for the next couple of days, so she was usually asleep or unconscious, but sometimes she scratched herself. It came to a point where she was destroying the adult diapers she's wearing due to her scratching, so the nurses had to tie her hands up. It was appalling if you think about it, but we accepted it because she could hurt herself. At that point we thought she'd only last a couple of days, so everyone in the family visited her, probably thinking it's the last time we would see her.
But on Thursday she woke up. All her family visited her again for the next few days. She had some trouble remembering some names, but for the most part she knew us. She seemed happy. She was able to see all her grandchildren, and her brothers and her younger sister. She was also able to talk to her older sister in Canada via Skype. Her high school friends visited her and they had a lot of laughs. It was great during those days.
The following Monday she was back to her usual hot-headed self. She always threw tantrums and wanted to go home. We didn't want her to go home because we didn't have the medical supplies to support her. At this point she was already using an oxygen machine. She said she knew she's dying and she didn't want to die in a hospital. We felt that if we took her out of the hospital, she would probably die on the way home. We didn't want to risk it.
She was still hurting, but she was just enduring it for us. My brother requested to put her under medicine again so that she could get some sleep, because my father said she wasn't sleeping that much. The next day, while she was unconscious, something started pouring out of her mouth. It was a blackish liquid. It was a lot of liquid, and the doctors were worried that her stomach is bleeding at this point. She was still unconscious.
On Friday, April 19, I was at my house beside my brother's, working. It was around 10 am, and I was about to take a break. I even had instant noodles prepared on a bowl. My uncle called me and said my mother was very weak and she was dying. My house was close to the hospital, so I hurriedly dressed and went to the hospital, but I was late. When I arrived my mother has just expired. There was still some small blips in the heart monitor, but the nurses said that she's gone. I didn't want to believe it. I tried holding my emotions in, and only got teary eyed as I looked at her chest, trying to catch it moving even for a bit. We started contacting our family and relatives about the news. My brother called me back to confirm it, and as soon as the words "she's gone" left my mouth, I broke down. I cried on the phone with my brother on the other end, and we didn't have to say anything. He said he's already on his way home, so I said goodbye and hung up.
I continued texting my friends about the news, and this calmed me down. When my younger sister called I was already fine. The next few hours was very busy, as we had to arrange a lot of stuff, and it's a surprise people can function when someone they love just passed away. Perhaps it's a coping mechanism of humans, that we distract ourselves so that we are not reminded of the bitter truth.
The next few days were long, but it was not as sad as I would have thought. Maybe it's the company of relatives and friends that kept my spirits up. I don't think I cried anymore during those days.
I still get teary eyed when I think of the hardships she's been through. I look at her pictures, or at her Facebook profile once in a while. I make a point of buying her flowers on special days like Mother's Day, or during the 19th of every month (her death "monthsary" if there is ever such a thing).
A few months before she fell ill, her favorite past time was playing cards at my neighbor's house. It sometimes took her until the early hours of the morning playing. And because I work nights, I was always awake when she came home. Whenever I am reminded that she's gone and I'm alone in the house, I just pretend that she's at my neighbor's, and that she will come home again in the middle of the night, like she always used to do.
My mom died.
There's a superstition that how you started the year will determine your fortune for the rest of the year. New Year's Day 2013 wasn't exactly a bad one, but it wasn't as exciting as it was before. My mom wasn't feeling too well then. She felt nauseated a lot of times, puking in the bathroom at least once a day. At this point she's lost some weight. I don't know why we never considered it a serious illness. We thought she was just having her usual ulcer attacks. It didn't help that my client was delayed in paying my salary, so I couldn't ask her to go to the hospital to have herself checked. She knew my money situation too, and since I supported my parents since I started working 9 years ago, she probably felt that it would be too much to ask me for some help.
She endured her ailment until after my trip from Hong Kong. By that time my client paid me, and I had the money for my trip. It was a fun trip, the weather in Hong Kong was cold, and it was the first time I think I experienced cold like that. When I returned I found out she went to the hospital to have herself checked. My parents borrowed the money I allotted for my mortgage, and I was fine with that. The initial findings were gall stones, something that was easy to cure, according to the doctors. They gave my mother medicines that will "dissolve" the stones so that it will become smaller and pass through her bile duct.
By February she's noticeably thinner, and she looked older than her years. I celebrated my birthday in my brother's house with a simple feast and some karaoke time, while my mother rested the whole day in my house just beside my brother's. Her birthday was exactly 2 weeks after mine, and she was more energetic then. We also had some simple feast, again at my brother's house. At this point she and my father are now staying at my house beside my brother's so that someone can watch over them. I stayed in my parent's house because their Internet was better and I needed it for my work. During this month until early March she continued with lab tests prescribed by her doctor.
Our world changed in March. I received a text from my sister that mom was diagnosed with stage 3 cholangiocarcinoma, and that it was incurable. My heart dropped and I wanted to cry then. But I held my emotions in check. I was working in front of a computer when I received the text, so I immediately researched on the cancer. It is commonly called bile duct cancer, and the mortality rate was 100% after 5 years. By that point I knew that my mom was dying.
When she came home, she confirmed the news. We're not an emotional family. We do not hug, nor "cry on each other shoulders." It was probably easier for everyone. My mom was nonchalant about telling me of her cancer, and I shrugged it off, like it was something serious but can be fixed. I told her that it was probably a mistake on the doctor's part. In my mind, I told myself that by not focusing on the problem, it will go away.
Because of the type of cancer that she got, it affected her health quickly. She didn't weigh much at that point, and since she always threw up the food that she ate, she lacked the nutrition that a body needs, and she slowly wasted away. It came to a point where she could barely walk without assistance. She went back and forth to a hospital near their house so that she could keep her potassium levels in check (which is vital to a human's health). I still worked at their house, but I sometimes sleep over at my house just to be with her.
My mom had always been a hot head, and my father did too, so they had fights frequently. But the next day they will be back to normal. We're luckily that my father is strong for his age, so he took care of my mother as she slowly wilts away. On April 7, a Sunday, we brought her to the hospital because of low potassium levels again, and when we arrived in the emergency room, I thought it was too late. I was already teary eyed then, thinking of the worst. But we received some good news that they were able to revive my mother. She specifically asked for me, and at first I was bewildered why she was looking for me. So when I approached her, she asked me if she's still ok. I told her yes. She then closed her eyes and she fell asleep.
She was under medicine for the next couple of days, so she was usually asleep or unconscious, but sometimes she scratched herself. It came to a point where she was destroying the adult diapers she's wearing due to her scratching, so the nurses had to tie her hands up. It was appalling if you think about it, but we accepted it because she could hurt herself. At that point we thought she'd only last a couple of days, so everyone in the family visited her, probably thinking it's the last time we would see her.
But on Thursday she woke up. All her family visited her again for the next few days. She had some trouble remembering some names, but for the most part she knew us. She seemed happy. She was able to see all her grandchildren, and her brothers and her younger sister. She was also able to talk to her older sister in Canada via Skype. Her high school friends visited her and they had a lot of laughs. It was great during those days.
The following Monday she was back to her usual hot-headed self. She always threw tantrums and wanted to go home. We didn't want her to go home because we didn't have the medical supplies to support her. At this point she was already using an oxygen machine. She said she knew she's dying and she didn't want to die in a hospital. We felt that if we took her out of the hospital, she would probably die on the way home. We didn't want to risk it.
She was still hurting, but she was just enduring it for us. My brother requested to put her under medicine again so that she could get some sleep, because my father said she wasn't sleeping that much. The next day, while she was unconscious, something started pouring out of her mouth. It was a blackish liquid. It was a lot of liquid, and the doctors were worried that her stomach is bleeding at this point. She was still unconscious.
On Friday, April 19, I was at my house beside my brother's, working. It was around 10 am, and I was about to take a break. I even had instant noodles prepared on a bowl. My uncle called me and said my mother was very weak and she was dying. My house was close to the hospital, so I hurriedly dressed and went to the hospital, but I was late. When I arrived my mother has just expired. There was still some small blips in the heart monitor, but the nurses said that she's gone. I didn't want to believe it. I tried holding my emotions in, and only got teary eyed as I looked at her chest, trying to catch it moving even for a bit. We started contacting our family and relatives about the news. My brother called me back to confirm it, and as soon as the words "she's gone" left my mouth, I broke down. I cried on the phone with my brother on the other end, and we didn't have to say anything. He said he's already on his way home, so I said goodbye and hung up.
I continued texting my friends about the news, and this calmed me down. When my younger sister called I was already fine. The next few hours was very busy, as we had to arrange a lot of stuff, and it's a surprise people can function when someone they love just passed away. Perhaps it's a coping mechanism of humans, that we distract ourselves so that we are not reminded of the bitter truth.
The next few days were long, but it was not as sad as I would have thought. Maybe it's the company of relatives and friends that kept my spirits up. I don't think I cried anymore during those days.
I still get teary eyed when I think of the hardships she's been through. I look at her pictures, or at her Facebook profile once in a while. I make a point of buying her flowers on special days like Mother's Day, or during the 19th of every month (her death "monthsary" if there is ever such a thing).
A few months before she fell ill, her favorite past time was playing cards at my neighbor's house. It sometimes took her until the early hours of the morning playing. And because I work nights, I was always awake when she came home. Whenever I am reminded that she's gone and I'm alone in the house, I just pretend that she's at my neighbor's, and that she will come home again in the middle of the night, like she always used to do.
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