F.E.A.R

For Everything A Reason.

"The doctor wants to see you" poked the nurse behind the curtains in the emergency room, as she looked at me.

"I'll be right back Umi." I smiled at my mum.

I walked over to the the 2 doctors as they were discussing a CT scan over the viewing box. I saw the lesion from a far. It wasn't a normal scan, I told myself as I continued walking up to them.

"Looks like a bleed. But its not in the place that I would have expected." I commented.

"No." they both agreed.

But I am hoping that it was a bleed, as the thought of the other differential diagnosis was more worrying.

"We will have the on call physician see you first and see what he wants to do." said the Emergency Medical Officers.

"Would you like us to explain to your family?" they asked me.

"No, I will do that myself" I said immediately.

I called to dad and my siblings, whom had arrived to the Emergency room.

It was the most surreal experience. Again, I felt myself looking down on the scenario of me explaining to my family, like a 3rd person drifting away above the heights of the Emergency room. It was like being in a movie. I've had this experience before. I am having it again now.

"Is it serious?" Dad asked.

"We will know more after the MRI scan." I replied.

I was very frank and clear. The word tumour was mentioned.

"Well, we will have to do what is best then" said dad. Dad took the news very calm and walked back to mum's cubicle.

I had to take a deep breath, as I felt that 3rd person perspective disappear and I was whole again. Tears started to roll down my cheeks. I've explained CT scans to patients, husbands, wives, sons and daughters hundreds of times before.....but it is so different when you explain it to your family. The empathy is overwhelming.

I am not Bob

With all the predicaments and recent events, I am left exhausted.

"You are not Bob. So, let somebody else fix it." He said.

Exactly.

The Ministry is still insisting that I relocate to fix a problem in another hospital that they have let escalate. I am not here to tell people want to do or how to do it. Everybody should be professional enough to be able to do things as per job specified. Even if it is not sincere, just do it. That is an obligation that you have agreed to when you receive your monthly pay. I don't understand why they are acting this way.

Anyway, like he said, I am not Bob. I have no intentions of being Bob. I won't be a good Bob even if I tried.

So, Mr. Ministry, half-heartedly, we may have to go our separate ways.

And you, thank you for listening.

Looks of Approval

My little prince registered himself into 'manhood' today, as the age of 12 makes it compulsory for him to get his "MyKad".
As I watched him answer the personal details requested by the officer behind the counter, he would glimpse a look at me from time to time. Looking for mummy's "approval look" to assure him that he had answered the questions right. Now, how wrong can one get when answering "what is your name", "how do you spell that" and "what is your date of birth"?
But it were those glimpses that I will cherish most. Soon, he won't need to glimpse for my approval looks anymore. Hmmmmm.......

The call

He called me after a month of silence. I was happy to hear from him, yet I cried.

Signs

Woke up after a night of restless sleep and finger nails clenched in palms. I have been having repeated dreams of snakes. I do manage to kill it, and then a big dog eats it up.

I have also been dreaming of trains, travels and good-byes. Except it is not me that is doing the traveling. It is me that is being left behind. Last night, both kids got on the train and left. I was left alone.

I prayed to Allah to show me the way. To guide me to those right decisions. To show me some signs.

Some prayers were answered. Someone put up pictures of him today. (Good old FB). I can see that he is well, Alhamdulillah. But again, that is on the exterior. When people look at me, I am also looking well. But inside me is a shattered mess. I pray that he is well. I pray everyday that he keeps his faith. I am afraid for him. I hope he doesn't feel that I have abandoned him. But it was the distance that was keeping us apart (ironically true!). But now, I can see that it was more than just the distance. I probably saw this before, but denied its existence in the wanting to be with him. I can see that we have separate lives. We live our lives differently, we have different opinions and the things that we discussed about will never change, for him nor for me. We tried to keep it for 3 years. I initially had doubts about the decisions I made. I miss him dearly. I wish that it was not like this.

He has made me become a better person. Stronger, more motivated, assertive, and right plain old stubborn, which can be good in a way, so people do not take advantage of me. He made me laugh again. He made me happy again. He made me feel alive again.

He said that I am an inspiration to him too. He said he loved me. He said we can work something out. He promised me we would be together. But, not to a fault of his, so far, he has not been able to keep that promise. WE haven't been able to keep that promise.

But, as long as I am alive on this earth, life for me must move on, just as it has for him.

sleepless

Its 2am, and I can't sleep.

Been doing a lot of thinking. Been thinking of him. Both of hims. On one of past, and one of present.

Been praying.

Been sighing.

(Just) To let you know.

Celebrations in Midst of Uncertainty

We went out last night.

A semi celebration of my 'promotion' and the acceptance of my research for presentation at the upcoming international congress in Vienna next year. That is something to look forward to.

We bought the kids shoes and uniform. (I bought the kids shoes and uniform)..... Always forever in the "we" mode.

At the end of the evening, we sat down and had some over priced ice-cream. We shared a tub and when the scramble at the beginning slowed down as satiety sat in, we managed to enjoy the remaining evening chatting with each other.

I keep telling myself not to go out shopping when I am feeling down. Other than the necessities of school uniforms and shoes, we also bought an LCD TV. I may as well spend on some luxuries while I can still "enjoy" it. (The Excuse). So there.

New Year Clutter

Today is the beginning of the new Islamic Year. It's a public holiday. Time to relax and unwind. But the more I tried, the more the mind wonders into a twisted disarray of thoughts.

Time to blog again.

I started the morning with nothingness. Laid in bed. The kids were up since Subuh and with the cousins around, they had planned another morning of splashes in the inflatable pool. (I made them change the water...)

We had a full breakfast.

I came up to my room and saw how messy it was. Just as cluttered as my head. I tried to clean it up, only to find myself looking through old memoirs and knick knacks. I suppose to unclutter, we have to hyper clutter first, sort out what was rubbish and what was not.

I look around me.... Still cluttered! A morning failed. Not a great start to the new year. Nevertheless, not a great start is still a start I suppose. As the great saying goes, better to start than not to start. Not a great saying? Wait, I don't think its even a 'saying'.

BUT, I am rambling. What I really want to say is Happy New Year, May Allah forgive all our sins in the previous year and make the coming year the best ever! And let my most precious know that I love them very much.

3 strikes, you're out!

The Umrah visa was not issued as planned. Our trip to the Holy Land maybe postponed or canceled.. STRIKE ONE!

My plea to remain working in this state has been denied.. STRIKE TWO!

The car broke down 92 km from home today. Spent nearly RM600 at the garage.. STRIKE THREE!

Come on, give me more curve balls. What's three strikes in a day?

Spoke too soon......tummy ache. I feel a storm a brewing. Great.. STRIKE FOUR!

The price for working too hard

It has been very hot the past few days. The children brought out the inflatable pool and filled it up with water. Their cousins who lives a few doors down the road came and joined them. The splashes of water and laughter attracted the other kids in the neighbourhood, as they watched in envy.

"Nobody pee in the pool, ok?" as I looked questionably at the little one as he hopped in.

"OK" they all echoed together.

I continued on with my paperwork as the kids played on. Its their laughter that gives me pleasure of sitting down this hot afternoon swamped with paperwork. I have to get things sorted quickly at work, as we will be leaving for Umrah at the end of the week. I have been alone running the department at work, and the work became overwhelming.

Furthermore, there might be bigger changes ahead. I have been promoted. Happy? Not really. The promotion comes with the cost of relocating, and the Big Man does not believe in negotiations and reasoning. I was more than willing to let go the promotion so I can stay close to family.

As the little prince is growing up so fast, he needs his father figures around him (uncles...blood relatives...not "uncle uncles"......). I am afraid that being in a new place, having the role of the state physician in my line of specialty will be too much for me to handle without family to give me a hand with the family matters. I have seen too many unattended children in my line of work to see them run into trouble. Not that I doubt my children, as I have been gifted with such wonderful caring little souls, mature beyond their age. I just do not want to take the risk. And I am tired.....relocating means a lot of things....too many things.....Plus, the job carries a big responsibility (and great powers).

"You are a strong person and we think you are more than capable" said the Big Man. "Since you have done so well in your current position, we want you to set up the service in the next state".

What? I am happy you have all the confidence in me, but why do I feel as if I am being punished for working too hard.

"My decision holds. Its this promotion and moving, or nothing." said the Big Man again.

What again? Did he just threatened me? Is he telling me that I have no place in this Ministry if I do not take up the promotion?

"You know that I was a military doctor. I am very stern with my decisions. What I say goes. That is my job as head of the National Service". He said again.

"Yes, I know". I replied. "But I am a mother more than I am a doctor. My family comes first." and I got up, smiled at him and left his office.

my 6 year holiday

What a journey it has been so far. New places, new people, new experiences.

It has almost been like a 'holiday'.Eventually, though tired but happy, we just want to get back home, slip into those comfy slippers and sit back in the well moulded chair, contouring the shape of our body, keeping us snug and comfortable.

Wouldn't that be nice?

It was one of those days again.....

The lights were red at every traffic light you passed through.

The bus in front stops at the bus stop to let down a million people and you have to wait until it pulls out.

Stepped out of the car to find that I was wearing my market sandals.

Late to punch in at work.

The waiting room was already crowding with patients.

News of death.

News of ill health.

Everybody looked tired and demotivated.

Evening, it started to rain heavily. The umbrella was in the car.

Went to pick up my daughter at school.

Got home. Ran to open the gate and rushed in.

Got wet.

Once indoors, the rain stopped.

House Call

The phone rang. You know how sometimes you get this sickly intuition that there was an urgency in the call you are yet to answer?...These were one of those calls.

Mum had called earlier that evening saying that dad wasn't feeling too well. He was having a headache and they had run out of paracetamol. I had just come home from work, and I said I'll be there as soon as I changed out of my yucky germ infested clothes and had something to eat.

While eating, the phone rang again.

It was my brother. He was basically rambling words of an unknown language on the phone. I told him not to panic and washed my hands and took my kit of medical whoo haas.

As I arrived, dad was slumped in pain while holding his head.

Quick history of what, when, where, how long, why and any other symptoms, I gave him some paracetamol.

I hated family consultations. Not that I don't like giving the service, please don't get me wrong. But the burden on the responsibility of having to decide something like this was nerve wrecking. I usually over treat.....

Ok, but this might not be a good idea, as over treating him might cause undue stress which may lead to other things.

His blood pressure was fine, his neurology was intact, his ears were a bit bunged, and he hadn't had his glasses changed in a while...and that was about it.

So, big breath in, I said he was relatively fine. (Honestly, he had a headache, which could be due to anything). The advice given was if it persisted or got worst, to call me again and to go to a hospital that had a neurologist.

I waited for a wee while for the paracetamol to kick in.

It kicked in, and he was more comfortable.

Mum and dad are notorious with regards to compliance. They are both diabetic and hypertensive. What I say never have an effect, but I guess that's part of being the role of a daughter more than a doctor.

Dad is ok now, but he is very fragile. Any stress can tip him. And as the only medically trained, I am honoured to be the house physician.

Moving Away From Familiarity

We began the day early. I had googled our destination and printed it out, as my little man became my co-driver. We were going to drive into Kuala Lumpur city! Usually we took the commuter train, as I have never dared to drive into KL. It's about time I did.

Once into Jalan Raja Abdullah, take the first left, then left again.

We ended up in a dead end.

Next time, its back to the Commuter trains.

As a doctor, death, disability and morbidity is part and parcel of the job. But I will never get used to it. I hope I never will. The sorrow will keep me humane.

Regardless what age, what health, what status, what wealth we have, our next minute on this earth is never guaranteed.

Though our fate has been written, the time of our birth and the circumstances of our death has all been set from the time we were in our mother's womb, the news of any death still rips me to pieces.

May her child rest in peace in Allah's protection. May she not feel the guilt and accept this as a testament of Allah's love to her and her family.

Al-fatiha.

Correction

Because of Allah Ta'ala.....

Correction to my previous entry.

I shouldn't need acknowledgment from others.
I should know that for what good deed we do now, for our good intentions, the fruits of our effort will be given to us, if not on this earth, in the life after.

Forgive me, for I am weak.

Taken for granted

Again, its been a wee while since this blog was looked into.

Life has been busy.

I am currently on a weight losing programme. It is very effective. It is a combination of stress, a new helper and the sense of being unappreciated with a pinch of being taken for granted.

I am grateful for my recent success, and I thank Allah for all the rezeki that he has given us. My eldest has also completed his exams and he had put in all his effort in it. I am definitely blessed with good children. New job is challenging, and extremely stressful. It certainly doesn't help with the clashes of the Titans in the Power Department as 2 of our most senior national heads are not at par with each other.

As a result, the service we are trying to provide is being affected.

Home life, mum in law is here staying with us. The children loves it when she comes as she will tell stories of their daddy's childhood and that makes them all happy.

Me? Trying to handle everything and everybody except myself. My late husband once said I had to be more assertive. Otherwise, people will walk all over me and take me for granted. I am a nice person. I like helping people. I think too much of other people's feelings and not enough of myself. Though I don't consciously expect anything in return, it saddens me (and angers me too) when it is taken for granted. I just can't find the fine line from being assertive to just being an ass. So, in the end, I will just let people be and do as they please. They will loose my respect though, and I won't stick around hoping to be acknowledged. That just sounds so desperate. I have too many important and better things to do.

But, I take this all as a lesson. We learn as we grow (older). Life experiences enriches us. And I am very rich in that.

another anniversary

Happy anniversary Abang.

13 years ago today.

Missing you with every beat, every breath, every blink.......

But as you know, we are doing ok. Our little boy is now a young man. Our chatty baby girl is blossoming by the day. We talk about you every day. Your mum called tonight. She misses you too.

13 years ago today. It was a fantastic day, wasn't it? Tears fill me of the memories, yet I smile knowing they were created with you.

Rest peacefully. Until we meet again.

Your loving wife.

Hopes, Dreams and my Prince Charming

I'm an independent woman, successful in career, respected (hopefully) in my community and loved by family and friends. I am not in any monetary hardship during these time of economic uncertainties. I am strong, I am brave, I am ambitious. I care about everyone around me. I am hopeful.

Yet, why do I desire for my Prince Charming to come and save me?

My late hubby always said I was a dreamer. I agreed. I love to dream. Some of my dreams have become reality. (Some haven't). But that's ok. I wouldn't want it all to come true. Not yet anyway. I cannot imagine my life without anything to dream about.

I asked one of my patients today, a young man who was paralysed from the waist down after an accident. I asked him what he wanted. He said "nothing". He said he wanted nothing....... My eyes watered for him.

giggles of memories

Little things trigger giggles as I remember happier times.

I saw this last weekend and thought of you. Its a flowery Hexapus.

Its wonderful to have loved you, and even more wonderful to still love you, till the end.

Failed.

I have always been afraid of failure. Ashamed of not succeeding. So, the things I had doubts in, unsure of the outcome, I would keep to myself (most of the time subconsciously).

Recently, I had failed in something that was very important to me. It didn't occur to me until now that I had kept it quiet for this exact reason. No, this is not an excuse. Its a reason. Unfortunately, the reason is also the cause of failure. If only I had been more open, maybe it would have been easier? I don't know. Regrets? Maybe.

Very complicated.....again probably out of choice.

Stupidity?.....

Old age. Definitely.

Still hoping though.

I miss him.

Survival of the Fittest

I remember as a younger child, there was an old lady who used to work for us. This old lady was a proud woman and she refused any form of monetary charity and insisted on earning her pay. She was obviously too old to be doing any housework, but my mother out of pity hired her.

She broke more things than she cleaned.

She was stubborn and refused any form of advise on what was safe for her to do. She did as she pleased, and she expected to be paid for it.

My mum used to grumble, saying that she didn't understand why this lady, whom we were helping was not appreciative of what we were doing for her. I remembered telling my mum that her hardship had led to her to being so. (Such wisdom from a 12 year old....). This lady was a single mother, whose abusive husband had left her and her 5 children many many years ago. She had to bring them up on her own without a fixed income. She had to do all sorts of jobs, ranging from cleaning to plucking chicken feather. It was never enough, but non the less, fed the children into adulthood. If she hadn't been "self centered", she and her children would have probably died, or the children being taken away from her. Hence, I used the word "self centered" in a special context. She did it for survival. Her life had made her into a hard heartened person. She did what she needed to do.

Life is funny in that way. It does reflect Herbert Spencer's and Charles Darwin's economic and biological theory on "survival of the fittest". (In no relation to any form of evolution). As I look at myself now, I think I may have hard heartened myself, and like any mother looking after her young, I will bark and bite to any who poses a threat to our survival.

Measures of Success

I started this quest initially with him by my side. We sat down and filled in the application form together.

I went to the interview with him on my mind. It was barely 4 weeks after his passing.

I began my studies again with memories of his encouraging words and his strong spirit that willed me through.

Prayers from loved one kept me afloat.

Thesis and reports were submitted.

Theory, clinical and viva exams were conducted.

Came the day, like any other day, the results were announced. The 3 candidates walked up the flights of steps to the department building, as one of us broke down into tears. She had been working very hard. All of us had, but the sheer thought of failure that day took the best of her, as she wept uncontrollably. We stopped midway as we tried to console her.

Rezeki is in the hands of the Almighty. We have put in the effort and the prayers. What ever the outcome, there will be no regrets.

I came home after the announcement.

The hugs and cheers from my children were measures of my success. Wish you were here to share this with us. We made it, Alhamdulillah.

Happy Moments

"Close your eyes" I instructed myself, as I played the role as my therapist in this bizarre self help programme.

"Relax and take deep breaths and just let it out slowly through your pursed lips", which I followed obediently.

"Feel your heart rate slowing.....now breath normally......slowly.......relax....."

"Now think of a happy moment."

A happy moment? It's been a while.......

I expected images of my wedding to come into my head, or the day the children were born. Significant happy moments.

None of those images appeared.

Instead, I saw myself walking up the hill to Churchill Square, holding his hands and smiling.

It was those everyday things that made me happy. Nothing significant. No big events. Just everyday things.

I was happy everyday.

Labour Day

Feeling nostalgic again.....

I know I said I'd write more of the present, but I cannot help it. Its my baby's birthday. She will be 9 tomorrow. My God, how time flies......

9 years ago today, I was finalising the things I needed to pack for my admission into hospital the next day. I was going to have a new baby tomorrow! All excited, yet scared and sad under the current circumstances.

We were at the hospital earlier. He had gone to his post chemotherapy clinic review, and I went for my antenatal check up.

I laid there on the examination bed as this little human inside me moved around. I heard the familiar snapping of the gloves as my obstetrician got ready to examine me. I had done this countless of time to many of my patients, but when it came to myself, I became tense.

"Relax...." she said, the same advice I gave my patients when I did the vaginal examination. And in a blink, it was over.

"OK" she said.

"You are 4 cm dilated. Do you want to come in now and have your baby?" she asked me.

"What, now?" I asked again in disbelieve. I didn't feel any pain, but the baby was moving around a bit more than usual.

"Well, that is what 'now' usually means..." she joked back.

My head was spinning with all the things that needed to be done. The baby wasn't due until next week, and my husband was still upstairs at his clinic check-up. I needed to know how he was before I could make any decisions. Anyway, the baby was coming, either today or definitely tomorrow.

"I need to see how my husband is doing first. He is upstairs". The Obstetrician knew of his condition. She nodded.

"Well, you know the signs of active labour. Come in tomorrow, or anytime earlier if you need to." she said.

I got up (and dressed) and left after thanking her. I made my way up to the medical clinic and met him in the waiting room. He was waiting for his prescription.

"How did it go?" I asked him.

"So far the chemo is going well. If the bloods stay good, we'll have the next cycle in 2 weeks." He nodded as he spoke.

"OK." I replied. Every time he was admitted for his chemotherapy, I'd stay with him in hospital and slept on the foldable chair. The last time was a weeks ago. The chair was becoming increasingly uncomfortable as my tummy got bigger, but I didn't mind. Being with him was more important. But I'll be in confinement this time around. I started to worry as wrinkles started to form on my forhead as my eye brows started to crunch closer.

"What did the Obst say?" he asked.

"Huh?" My mind was a mile away.

"What - did - she - say?" he asked me again in single words.

"Oh...that. Yeah, I am 4 cm dilated and the baby is coming soon"

"Are you feeling ok? Do you want to be admitted today?" he asked.

"No, I am still ok. We need to get baby stuff though! Diapers and some newborn clothes." I had totally forgotten to prepare for this little one.

So, off we went to the nearest shopping mall and I went shopping! 4cm dilated and I was shopping.....Thinking back, I was a lot younger then and I felt invincible. Imagine if my membranes ruptured in the Mall.....the poor cleaner.....

But my water didn't break, and we made it home.

By that evening, contractions were coming irregularly.

As I packed my bag for tomorrow, I looked lovingly at my husband.

"She is our little unplanned gift." I whispered. He didn't hear me. He was already in deep sleep. Today's activities were a bit too much for him to handle and he needed to rest. Who will look after him in two weeks time when he goes in for another course of chemo? I prayed to Allah that I will be strong enough by then to accompany him.

9 years ago, around this time in the evening, I finished packing my bag and layed next to him as I drifted off to sleep.

The Present

It has been almost a year since I started to write with the aim to help me clear my mind of clutter so I can live life in the present.

This is my 40th entry.

Most of my entries were of past reference, mainly of the loss of my dear husband and the wonderful memory of our lives together.

My past makes me who I am today.

I should start talking more of my present. Not just the morbidity of hardship, the struggles of daily living, but also of the wonders and gifts that has been given to me.

Yes, I know, the last few entries have been of confusion, frustration, feeling of senseless loss and loneliness. It reflects the uncertainty of what is happening to me now. There is more behind this story than what I was willing to reveal. But the last few days had given me a clearer picture of the entire situation.

I have met someone. He is very special to me. The burden I feel now is the burden of not being able to be with him. I've been through this before. The first separation I experienced was one that was beyond my control. Allah had taken him back. This current separation is due entirely of humanly choices. Circumstances. Darling, I know you are reading this. I also know that you know me well (and vice versa). You know what is in my head and my heart, hence I need not say more.

drifting

I drifted around the house this evening. My motions were slow as I saw myself in a third person. I saw my hands reaching out to check the doors and windows. My feet as they stepped on the stairs. My head slowly turning to the pictures on the wall. My hands as it turned the door knob to my son's room. My fingers running through his hair as I kissed him good night.

My little girl has started sleeping in my room again. She is not well. But I think it is more for me than for her. I needed to hear sounds of life in the still night. The sound of her breathing helps. I haven't slept in over 2 nights. I didn't go to work today.

Something is not right.

I wasn't prepared to face the patients who were also in need. I couldn't put on the frontier today. I couldn't seperate personal and professional life today. I stayed home.

Everything reminds me of you.
That man that cant walk. I see you.
That man that cant eat. I see you.
That man that is in fear. I see you.
That man that is confused with what is happening to him. I see you.

I want to help them all. I feel as if I am helping you.

But, as medicine goes, not all can be cured. Not all can be helped.

I put my hand on his shoulder. He looked at me and smiled. He patted my arms. Maybe that was all he needed.

I am tired.

I cannot sleep.

I hope somebody can give me a pat on my shoulder and say that its all going to be ok.

In darkness

As the days approach the end of this current chapter, panic starts to loom. Panic occurs in reflection of ill preparation and the unseen light at the end of the tunnel. As I desperately search my way there, I find that I have gotten myself lost in the tufts of mangled thoughts and disarray. I try to breath, but I am choking in my fear.

Where do I turn to? Whom do I turn to? When your own father calls you desperate, when your own sister calls you selfish and when the person you love and depend on now becomes a burden....the weights on my shoulder sinks me into my own grave.

I know Allah is here to protect me. My Iman is not strong enough to give me comfort at the moment, as I crumble to the floor in tears.

I have never felt so alone.

Choices and Sacrifice

It was approaching 3.15am. My wrists and fingers were getting cramps. The rolled up face towel I had placed at the end of the keyboard to help support my wrist were no match for the abuse in hours it had been in use. My eyes were getting very tired, and I do believe even the laptop screen was flickering......

My God, if I had to measure the effort I have been putting into this research and the outcome of it at the end of the day in terms of worldly materials, this is DEFINITELY not worth it. But I know it goes beyond just this present time, and it is an investment. It is a sacrifice I had chosen to take, and I cannot back out now. How much easier it would be just to say that it is too hard and I cannot cope. How much easier it is to chose something else, which will definitely be easier. How much I wish I could be in bed now sleeping........ But the choice was my own choosing, and I chose to sacrifice these little luxuries now for a better future, here and the life after. Sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice, a word not foreign to me. I understand it well. And it comes when we are given choices. And for these choices, I thank the Almighty, for giving me the option of choices. Secondly, for guiding me to make the right choices.