petite n powerful

Taking Time Off from Work....to Work

2011-09-19T22:22:00.002+08:00

Little Princess was under the weather today. (I should stop calling her that as she is growing up so fast.....Young Lady Princess?)

Anyway, the young lady woke up with a fever. Her brother looked at her suspiciously...

"Yes, she is sick" I assured him.

So, off he went to school and I contemplated about work. What a wonderful excuse to take the day off work to catch up on work. That sounded bad...from both a motherly perspective and a professional one too. But my instinct tells me I should try to stay at home. So, I made a few phone calls, (quite a few!...almost took me 45 minutes to settle and delegate work) and I informed the office about my Emergency Leave.

Ok, settled the young lady with her breakfast and plenty of fluids.

Then I sat at my computer and did as much work as I could.

Come midday I get a call from the The Boss.

"I'm on leave today Sir....... ok.......just today. I'll be back at work tomorrow"

There was an uncomfortable silence on his side. I knew he wanted me to come in.

"Ok, I'll make myself available. What time? 3.30pm. Ok, I'll see you then". Urgh. Succumbed to his demands (again).

Had to leave the house with Young Lady alone for a few hours until Big Brother came home. She said she would be fine.

Got to the meeting. Sat down. A red faced Caucasian was visiting, and somebody obviously forgot to put on sunscreen during a sunny outing....

I looked at him. I know this guy....where have I seen him before?

I thought very hard.....and BINGO! I know! Hahahaha....I giggled to myself. He was the spitting image of Leslie Nielsen. Great. Now I had to take the image of Naked Gun 2½ out of my head and at least try to concentrate. Hehehehe....not doing a good job at it though.

Oh well, at least I got a bit of pleasure at laughing to myself through the meeting, on my day ~~off~~ of work.

In the mood....for nothing

2011-09-16T20:43:00.004+08:00

Its been a hectic, emotionally draining 4 weeks. I've been keeping myself busy with things both at work and at home. Most of work comes home though, so basically its been all work....

A big chunk has been completed, but the next wave is on it's way. I can see the tide residing before the next tsunami hits shore. I hope this little gap is enough for a breather.

So tonight, I am in the mood for nothing. Maybe a "non-gray matter required" movie? Sleep sounds good too.

Oh, how I wish I had my doses of evening comfort. Not only that, he was my pillar of strength and just knowing that he was there for me meant the world. Knowing that he was there to listen to my daily rants, give me sound advice, and someone to talk to and lean on. Then followed the doses of laughter with our silly jokes and things we are 'not allowed to say'. The sheeps and monkeys have ears you see......I hope I was as good for him as he was for me. Oh, I miss him so much.

2011-09-06T18:47:00.003+08:00

"Hi! I'm sitting under an umbrella in a building....."

These are the quirky weird things I like telling him.

And yes, I am sitting under an umbrella in a building, drinking expensive coffee and eating dry cake that tastes like cardboard. And yes, I have tasted cardboard.....so,there is a point of reference there.

Anyway, on duty for the next three days. Kids are not with me and I already miss them terribly. But I will take this opportunity to write up my paper in record time. I have 2 days to write the paper! Yes I can, yes I can, yes I can.

But blogging will not help with my mission though....

Post 101

2011-09-05T00:32:00.002+08:00

Yes, it's post number 101.

Hmmmm......either I have too much time on my hands, or I spend too much time at the PC. But writing does help with untangling the thoughts, especially when you really don't have that special someone to talk too.

Don't get me wrong, family support has been the greatest, and I could not have asked for any better. But for those that are "spoused", you know that there are things that only spouses can be told, where the info is received and digested. Or it could be that they have no choice but to receive and digest. Nevertheless, they are there.

And I miss that.

Trying to Keep the Ties

2011-09-03T00:15:00.002+08:00

I'm not sure how to keep the ties strongly bonded after his mum passed away in May. This year will be the first Eid without her back at Kampung.

"Umi, will we be going back to Teluk Intan?"asked the kids.

We have never failed to go back to visit during Eid festivities after his passing, except for the year that we were abroad. The reason was mainly to visit his mum and cousins.

Now that she is gone, the house has been left unoccupied. We no longer have a place to go home to. My sister in law has a house there, but it is just not quite the same.

We decided to do a day trip back on 3rd Eid.

The trip there was a smooth drive as the roads were relatively empty. We chatted in the car, as the kids kept me talking (and kept me awake). We recalled the first few trips home after their ayah passed away. Little Princess was barely 4 years old. She took the drive back to Teluk Intan very badly, crying and screaming most of the way there. I wonder what was going through her head then. She must have felt so confused, and the trip must have been an emotional drain to her. When we reached Grandma's house, she refused to get out of the car....The whole neighbourhood must have heard her scream.

Gradually, just like everything else, things got better.

We reached Teluk Intan in good time.

"Can we see ayah's old school?" a favourite request by the kids.

"How did ayah go to school?" they asked.

"Ayah walked to school." I replied, and another favourite story about how he had lost his shoes walking in the mud after heavy rain was told again.

We drove the long way to my sis in law's house so as just to drive by mum's place. We slowed down as the kids looked on. The house from the outside was clean and very empty. Her pot plants on the car porch were no longer there. It was lifeless. No cars, no grandchildren gathering and sitting out on the porch this year, all the windows closed shut.

We got to my sister's place just in time for lunch. It was a lovely lunch cooked by my niece. We chatted about the woes of sibling squabbles and issues about inheritance. I hope they can work things out. Only my other sis in law was there. None of the other siblings came home this year. A true test of keeping ties strong. Being an in-law, I am not sure of how to keep it strong. I wish Abang was around. Even though he was the youngest, he would and could knock some sense into them.

After a very full and filling lunch, I dozed off. Yes yes, spare tyres in the making....

By 5pm, refreshed after a nap, had some tea, it was time to head home.

We stopped by to visit his mum and dad's grave.

Then the usual Petai purchase at Bidor.

The trip back was a lot heavier in traffic volume. We got home at 10pm. Tired but satisfied. As the kids grow older, I hope they will continue to keep the ties strong with cousins on their dad's side.

Drive by

2011-07-22T23:43:00.003+08:00

It was a cloudy drive home from work today. As I approached the bend next to the bridge, I muted the radio and I recited the Al-Fatihah. It has become a ritual comfort each time I go to work, and on my return home to pass by his resting place to recite Al-Fatihah.

Today, amongst the clouds, I felt a warm ray onto my cheek as a the sunshine peeked between. It was like a warm kiss from him as I drove by.

Thank you sayang. I'll pass by again tomorrow.

Missing you just as much as the first night we parted.

Loss

2011-05-24T22:49:00.003+08:00

The day had begun as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until the phone rang.

It was my sister in law. The one that was caring for their mum. The news did not strike me by much surprise. She had passed away in her sleep.

The kids by then had both left for school. I made a few calls to work, to my family and arranged the day to attend the burial. I was quite rational and clam. I had decided that the kids need not come as they were taking their semester exams. But as I got ready, I heard his voice whisper in my ear as he said "Ambiklah" (go get them). I froze for a good minute. What was I thinking? The kids were very close to her. She adored them, as they were her connection to her late son, as she was the main link to their late dad. The kids needed to say their good-byes.

I picked them up from school. Such bewildering looks in their eyes as they saw me at their schools. I explained what had happened. My son took the news as a man, shielding back the tears. The more I saw how hard he was trying, the sadder I became. I was the one that broke down into tears.

We managed to kiss her before her coffin was lowered into the grave. Her skin felt lifeless.

My late husband adored her with his life. Even as he was about to leave us, he reminded me to look after her well being after his funeral. Her passing today brought back unexplained feelings of loss. I feel we had lost a piece of him again today.

Al-fatihah to my mum in law and thank you to my parents, my brothers and sisters, friends who accompanied us physically and spiritually through another grieving day.

Sharing of Passion

2011-03-07T00:55:00.003+08:00

As I sat at my PC this evening, I heard my son scream with joy downstairs as Liverpool scored their first goal against ManU.

I shift restlessly in my seat as I hear the excitement in his voice as he watched the match alone. We usually watch the Liverpool matches together, if the time isn't anything after midnight.

"WHOOOAAA!" he yells again.

Ok, that was it! I ran down to see what the commotion was all about.

We watched the match together and experienced a well deserving win by Liverpool. Suarez was a good buy and worked wonders with Kuyt. We are pleased.

My passion for football began with my late husband. He was passionate about the game and enjoyed watching it. What he enjoyed, I enjoyed too. I love sharing with the ones I love, be it sports, food, travel, career or even depache mode.

Sharing a passion with a loved one makes it even more passionate.

But as a result of watching football, I now have to burn a bit of the midnight oil to finish this research proposal.

Bummer.

Too Well Adapted

2011-03-01T23:35:00.004+08:00

7 years and 3 months.

I have been a single mummy for 7 years and 3 months. I have achieved a lot in the past 7 years and 3 months, Alhamdulillah.

But don't take it for granted that I have been able to do it for 7 years and 3 months, I can continue to do it for much longer. Or can I?

I have coped this long, gone through this much, and has achieved so much. I'm sure I can go on as I am.

"Really?" said a voice in my head.

"Yes, really." That's my stubborn subconscious talking now.

"REALLY?" asked the voice again.

"Yes, really! I wouldn't know how to do anything but as what I am doing now. And it has been so long living on my own, I don't think I can live with another. I like to have my room to myself, my own bathroom, my own bed. I can make my own plans without having to consult another 'half'. (Though I have to pass the review board aka parents). So, yes REALLY."

I am so well adapted to how I am now, it will be very hard to un-learn these new skills of being independent. I have forgotten how to discuss with someone about plans, sacrifices, compromises, distribution of burden and sharing. I don't think I'll make a good life partner to anyone now. I have become selfish, with the intention to survive.

Just a little ramble to myself. It's approaching midnight. Tomorrow I may feel differently.

the luckiest of the bad luckers

2011-02-27T01:04:00.004+08:00

I lay next to her this evening, just watching her sleep. Such peace, such beauty.

My children had gone through a lot. I sometimes wonder how they cope. I've never not had a father. My dad is still very active and I must admit, at most times forget that his children have all grown up. He is still telling us what to do and claims that he is always right. As an adult, it makes me feel insulted that my life is not respected and the decisions I make are ridiculed. He even puts on the guilt play making me choose between him and my decisions. Of course, he wins. I am his little girl and I can never live with myself with him upset. Yes, that does make me angry. But he is my daddy and I am blessed to have him. My children do not have that. They cannot remember having the father in their lives. He died when they were so young.

So, I should feel very blessed that I am privileged to have grown up with a father, a mother, brothers and sisters. I am blessed to have been married. I am blessed to have had children. I am blessed to have a job, to have health (just not today), to have met MS and to have potential for happiness.

Through all the bad luck that I have had, I think I am the luckiest.

Eleven-teen already?

2011-02-26T23:06:00.002+08:00

Mind and body on strike today. Over-worked and over stressed results in shut down of all system. I do really need a system reboot.

So, the week ended with a snotty nose, sore throat, watery eyes, bouts of sneezes and a temperature to warm things up.

To my little princess, I'm sorry for being a bum bum head on your birthday. I know it is not everyday that one turns 11. But we'll plan something next week. Umi is just really tired today.

But we did have cake, the presents and the traditional sit down on the couch as I retold her the story of her birth. She particularly liked the egg tart fart bit..... Thank you to my sister who bought me egg tarts the night before.

And for her daddy, we said our doas. He would have been so proud to see his little girl blossom. Yes, she is a handful, but I wouldn't want it any less. We did good (and still are).

What does music mean to you?

2011-02-05T18:13:00.002+08:00

I love my music.

I love playing it.

I love singing it.

I love listening to it.

Why?

I like the music I listen to because it relaxes me. I don't want it to be heavy, depressing, too loud or too abstract.

I love stories in my music.

But most of all, the music I listen to reflects the stories surrounding the time the music was around. When it was playing 75 times a day on the radio, the memories that goes along with it. It isn't just the music. It's the people I was around when the music was playing. It was what I associated myself with when the music was playing. So, excuse me for the real passionate music enthusiasm out there, I love listening to Westlife and Ronan Keeting because you used to laugh at it. The music brings back your laughter. I love the predictability of the music because you thought it was crap. I love the way we used to make up our own lyrics and sing in the car when the boys were on air. I love the memory of our first born humming a boyzone song before he could even talk.

That music relaxes me. I don't have to think while listening to it because, lets face it, you don't need much grey matter for that kind of music. It also leaves my mind free to go back to my favourite places and hear him again.

Weird as it may sound, the fact that it ticked him off makes me like it even more.

stop to breath

2011-02-05T16:18:00.002+08:00

Occasionally, we need to just pull back and take that much needed breather.

That time happened to me about 3 years after his passing. Overwhelmed by all around me, I needed a little time away from it all. It was after the initial phase of shock, disbelieve, denial and trying to bog myself down with work and study. It took me 3 years to realise that I was in a mess and the tangles brought the kids in with me.

We packed up our bags and we left. We left everything and got on a plane and flew far away. However, we did go back to a place I was familiar with. The place where I had met him.

We got ourselves sorted in that 1 year away. We managed to see things clearer. We also managed to have some closure. I think it was a form of escapism, but that's ok. Escaping from things to survive is always good in my books.

We came back fresh. We came back stronger than ever. It was the best decision I had ever made.

2010...Its a wrap!

2010-12-23T22:57:00.004+08:00

Once again, we reflect of the past year and try to recall what our new year resolutions were a year ago.

It has been a mix of good and bad this year.

But I must say, we have all done pretty well, alhamdulillah.

Mum had her brain surgery and follow up MRIs have been promisingly good. She is much better in herself, but requires the daily dose of TLC from all her children. I do the best I can, though at times is never enough for some. And that includes me. I am a culprit to my own guilt. I recall taking care of my late husband. Nothing seemed to matter but him. I would walk 500 miles if it meant making him feel better. I would go sleepless if that was what it took. I was never tired. But I am tired now. Poor mum. Sorry. But, on a good note, she is meningioma free.

I resigned. Now in a new position doing exciting things. Though still not quite what I had expected and I keep having to tell myself to be patient. I'll get there soon enough. The blank canvas is being painted.

The 2 new additions to the family (my younger sister's baby and younger brother's baby) are the joy for both parents, grandparents and all their aunts, uncles and cousins. 2 healthy baby boys, which makes them grandkids number 16 and 17!

My kiddies have both done well in school and I am proud of them both. They have helped out with chores and cooking. They have taken on the new responsibilities with flying colours since we became maidless a few months ago.

My little man is now taller than me. Phew! What a relief. Being vertically challenged myself, I would not wish that for my son. Hahaha...nothing wrong with being short. It can be used to my advantage at the better of times!

And to my long distant most special friend.....I cannot believe that we are still holding strong. Well, I can actually. You are amazing and I thank Allah for crossing our paths. To you, thank you for sticking around, a "shoulder" to cry and lean on, to laugh with, and bare to hear about how my day went. To help me make those decisions, to sit down and work things out, and basically to whine and moan to. Thank you too for laughing at my jokes. (Not many do). Thank you for understanding. Thank you for loving my past and my present.

And to my past, who will always be with me to this present and the future, I pray that you are kept well and be granted Jannah. We miss you dearly but have accepted with open hearts of what Allah has planned.

May Allah continue to give us rezeki, to shelter us and I can't wait to see what he has installed for me in 2011! Thank you Allah.

happy birthday abang

2010-11-09T22:22:00.002+08:00

Another year passing.

He would have been 40 today.

We would have spent our 14th year anniversary recently.

It will be 7 years of not seeing him this December. That's exactly how long we were married.

We are reaching that equal mark. Soon, his passing will be longer than how long we spent married life together.

I'm still counting. Do I need to? Do I have to? Is it wrong to?

You know what? I can do what ever I feel I want. And today, I chose to continue counting.

So Abang, happy 40th birthday. I met you 20 years ago at your tender age of 20. Those were the days....we were young, felt invincible and the sky was our limit. We did good and I am proud to have been your wife and mother to our 2 children. They are doing well, and I cannot have asked for such beautiful, caring and lovely young people.

We miss you, and we pray that you are resting comfortably and be granted Jannah.
Amin.

Quick Entry

2010-11-08T18:44:00.002+08:00

I've just arrived home, and sitting at the computer as I wait for the chicken to defrost.

The kids are outside, clearing the inflatable pool they enjoyed over the long weekend. Hearing their laughter now, it appears they are having as much fun emptying out the water as they had playing in it.

That's what it's all about, ei? Enjoying life's journey in all it's processes. Having fun creating it, having fun once it is created and enjoying it while clearing and ending it. It's sad that the pool will be folded up again.

But it will be inflated again in the near future. The cycle of life continues.

New everything!

2010-10-18T19:12:00.003+08:00

Racing after life, and life's a race!

I've been away for a wee while, but here in spirit. The new job, the new and bigger responsibilities and the greater distance traveled (literally) to get to this new job with the new and bigger responsibilities have kept me away from my single fingered typing. Hence, the quietness from updating this blog.

In a way, it could be a sign of the mind being too busy to even slow down to think of what to type. As I drive home along the scenic E2, I always reflect and do have ideas, but never translated into typing.

So, how has it been? Interesting to say the least. I am still trying to settle down, being highly selective on what I want to do and not do this time. But, being in a non idealistic world, this honey moon phase was bound to end. My new job is like a blank canvas, waiting to be painted as I feel fit. Unfortunately, there are many artists around in my new place, and one biggie has grabbed my brush, with my hands still holding on to them, and has guided my painting to look a lot like what he wants it to look like. Not good.

But, being the new kid on the block, maybe I should let that painting dry a bit before I start to make some changes. Remember the last time I took out my brush? I was shoved into another state.....learn woman!

And further more.....we are now maidless. I thought I was going to die, but apparently, you don't die from being maidless. (Check diagnosis book on causes of death from a condition called "maidless"...nope, not there.)

So, 3 months into the new job, new position, new responsibilities, new friends, new bosses, new system, new office (the best part) things are not at all looking that bad. Other than the maid bit, but even that new role I've taken up with passion. Never thought I'd wake up on a Sunday morning so passionate about getting the laundry out on the line!

News of Her Life

2010-07-19T13:55:00.000+08:00

I have never met her,

Yet she has touched my life.

I have never spoken to her,

Yet I have heard her voice,

I have never helped her,

But my prayers go out for her.

May Allah keep her safe in comfort,

May her family be kept strong,

May her husband and her boys,

Accept. Be Proud. Remember. Love.

Farewell Friday

2010-07-19T12:46:00.003+08:00

Last Friday we went out for a farewell lunch. MY farewell lunch. It really is happening. I am leaving.

Scared and excited again. Another new adventure awaits. Each time a new challenge suffice, the stakes get bigger.

As I sit at my table now thinking how I will plan the next few years of my life, I realised that these plans belong more to the kids than mine. I am now tagging along their future. Has it come to that stage already? If things go as planned, my little man will be off in just a few years' time. Followed by my little princess...... Ohhhh. Grieving already? I used to be sad for those that leave. Now I am sad for those that are left behind. Will I cope to be on my own? Literally. By then, the kids will be in universities and they won't need me hovering over them anymore. They were the ones that have kept me going all these years. What will happen when they have gone away? I'll be alone. I wouldn't know what to do with myself! (Imagine me saying that!)

For now, I will take it as it is. For all you know, Allah may change everything that we have planned, as He can and has.

Friday Prayers

2010-07-11T09:11:00.002+08:00

As I finished delivering my lecture at the Nursing College that Friday morning, my colleague invited me to join her for lunch. Friday lunches are always nice, as the break hours were longer to accommodate Friday prayers. To be honest, I have never attended a Friday prayer, as this was always a congregation of the male community. Nevertheless, there is always space provided in the mosque for female to attend.

As we got ready to go out for lunch, my friend introduced me to her group of friends that she works with. This was my first visit to her hospital and I was greeted with smiles and salam. The clinic Sister and Nurses were very friendly, and I felt as if we had known each other for years as the conversation became very "rancak". As we approached her car to go to this restaurant, one of her Medical Assistant (a guy) called out to join us. I looked at my watch. It was 12.30 midday, and there will be enough time for him to join us for lunch and then to Friday prayers.

He got in the car, and we drove to this very nice garden restaurant. It was a wee distant away from the hospital and I worried that we might not finish in time for him to make it back for prayers.

By 1pm, we were eating away, and the food was superlicious! But hey, everybody was taking their own sweet time, including this chap.

By 1.30pm, we were still there. I was getting uncomfortable to be sitting in the group, as it was obvious by then that he was not going to be attending the Friday Prayers. I was very disappointed in him, and the others who sat comfortably there chatting away. But who am I to judge? I don't even know them (other than my colleague). And why should I care? But I did....

I thought hard about it on my 2 hour drive home after lunch. What is happening to the Muslim community here? Are we so complacent and too comfortable, to be accepting such as 'biasalah' (common). It was also such a bold statement for him to make as well, to be sitting in public chatting and laughing while the obligatory prayers had started.

My eyes started to water. Why was this affecting me so much? I was saddened that for a Muslim, he boldly stated that he didn't care, and as a Muslim, I didn't say anything to him. But I suppose that is between him and Allah. But should I have said something? I know that I never want to associate myself with men in that category, personally. I hope Allah will guide me away from Muslims who do not practice the five pillars of Islam. But could it be that Allah guided me there to help him? To play part in my Dakwah as an Ummah?

Maybe, if he knew the benefits of the Friday prayer congregation, that every step taken to the mosque he will have the reward of fasting and praying qiyaam for one year, that his sins (excluding major sins) will be forgiven between the week of the Friday prayers, and that the angels will greet him at the front door of the mosque as he enters, like a VVIP in the eyes of Allah, and as he sits and listens to the khutbah, he will be surrounded by his fellow brothers, from which later he can exchange greeting and views, creating the close knit ummah as preached by Islam who will support him in good and in bad times...maybe he will attend?

Each man in there is a leader in his own rights. I hope my son will have enough guidance, enough faith, enough belief to grow up to be a good Muslim, and I would not like anything or anybody to come in the way of his faith.

The weight on my shoulders suddenly heavies as I reached home. That was definitely a long drive home.

sick of worrying, worrying to sickness

2010-07-04T11:36:00.002+08:00

Doctors are the worst patients. We never follow our own advice, and we get the worst illnesses.
"Stop worrying" I told my patient. "It'll make your condition worst."

Anyway, I've had a bit more time to myself lately, mainly because I have just no desire to do anything else but. Hence, the more frequent entries the past few days. And as this blog is served to untangle mangled thoughts, here I go again.

Things on my mind:

Growing pains. 2 growing up kids going through the changes in life.

Societal stigma to widow-ism.

Inter-racial, inter-national, long distance relationship.

Religion.

Disability and unemployment.

Security.

Family expectations.

Job and career.

Balance.

The desire to make others do their best to keep up with what their potentials are is actually a part of my everyday job. Sometimes, I forget the boundaries between career and personal life. I push and push. They don't budge. Should I just accept that they do not want to change? Why is it so important to me to see those changes, when they themselves do not care less? Stupid me. It's tiring. For patients, I can discharge them. For people closer to me, I cannot.

So, I tell myself, stop putting in my energy in fighting a loosing battle. Those soldiers have put up a white flag, and its time to move on. Lets focus on more fruitful things. Time is running out, and we are not going to be here for ever.

And for those out there who thinks that all widows are desperate, PLEASE! Those are your own insecurities talking. Nevertheless, it is still painful to hear.

report card day

2010-07-03T10:58:00.004+08:00

I took 2 hours off work yesterday morning to go and pick up the kids report cards.

I keep telling my children that number placings in class is not the ultimate reflection of their achievements. I wanted them to enjoy what they do and feel that what ever they have achieved is based on the belief that they have tried their best.

"What number did you get?" I remembered my father asking me when I was in standard 4. It was a hot evening and the ceiling fan was spinning at full speed. I looked up at him. My heart was pounding. I didn't do too well, and my number in the class had deteriorated from number 9 to 15 or 16. It wasn't the top 10 like last semester.

I gave him my report card.

He looked at it, and with dismay he immediately flung it up in the air. I remembered it hitting the spinning ceiling fan and tossed to the corner of the room.

No conversation. No reasoning. I scrambled to pick up the report card and ran to my room. And that was where it ended, though the pain and memory stuck till this day. I had to send back the report card to my class teacher tomorrow. Like any frightened young 10 year old, I decided to forge his signature. The next morning, he asked for it again, so he could sign it. Oh no.....

"Your son has done very well. He got 8As" complimented his teacher. "Unfortunately, he also got a B, C, D and an E. That has resulted his placings to go down in the bottom quartile although his total percentage was very good".

His Arabic subjects had brought him down. I knew he had tried his best, but the subjects were just too confusing for him that he didn't know what he didn't know. Instead of wanting to blame his teachers, or him directly, we discussed to see where the problem was, and how to find the solution. I didn't want my son to feel that he had disappointed anyone, as I knew he was already disappointed in himself.

"You can do it." his teacher encouraged him. We worked out a few solutions, and will see how he goes before the year end.

"Well done." I told him. For a young man, barely 13 years old, whom does his studies driven by his own will, never did I need to push him to open up his books or force him to tuition classes, I think this is where his future success skills will lie.

This is also one of the first few teacher parent meetings that I have found incredibly fruitful. Well done to his teachers too.

1st of July

2010-07-01T01:08:00.002+08:00

Already?

Its the first day of the month.
It was supposed to be a significant day of change.
My new chapter was to begin today.

Indecisiveness has led to a delay. Actually, it was more of a denial and the unwillingness to move on. But I have done it. I had sent in my resignation and am now just waiting for their acceptance.

I love my current job and the people I work with. I love my patients. I will miss them all.

But, as I have learnt from the many many many years of experience, sometimes it takes a sacrifice to gain in life. I am loosing out in this new deal (demotion of grade) but, who knows, (except the Almighty), better days lay ahead.

Better stop thinking too much about it. It is 1.15am and I still have to go to work tomorrow.

Life with

2010-05-18T20:36:00.002+08:00

Many a times, we think to ourselves.....

"What would life be without electricity, or television, or internet....."

"What would life be without a car, or running water, or plumbing....."

Unthinkable.

Uncopeable. (apparently not a word?)

For those with loved one.....the unimaginable question....."What would life be without him".

Life does continue without him. Mine has. It is just lately, I have been thinking a lot about how Life would have been With him. I have no regrets or have ever questioned why he left, as I have full faith in Allah and my religion gives me guidance and the answers.

I just wonder sometimes. What would it be like if he were still here today. Hmmmm.....

pre-birthday blues

2010-04-11T21:48:00.002+08:00

This is so stereotypically typical.

Reflecting on my soon-to- be 38 years of life. Happy and grateful for my achievements, for the blessings of having two beautiful children to accompany me in my life, and for the wonderful eases, a roof over my head and food on the table everyday.

Although I have it all (oh no....here it comes), there is still a hollowness and emptiness no words can describe. I try to fill it with faith. I don't think I have enough. This hole is like the black hole, sucking the life of me....honestly, it feels like that at times.

Do you require a partner in life to have this hole filled? You know, I have a good friend, who listens and supports me. It's been great having him, and I don't think I am where I am today without him. And my sisters are also the best! Always there for a shoulder to cry on, even if they do cry with me too.

All in all, its sad to be alone, after loving someone so much, and loosing them. We had a bumpy ride before we got married, (not because of hatred or mistrusts or betrayals)..... it was more because we just wanted to be together, but couldn't. Our parents (mine) wanted us to finish our studies first, and we obliged. We waited. Now, he is gone. And I am alone. Tired. Old. And getting older....... this baby face won't keep up much longer. My fear is that I'll grow old looking like Micky Rooney. Who would want to spend life with a wife looking like Micky Rooney......Argh...

Hahaha. (giggling to myself, as I read back on this entry).

Never mind. I know I have someone who loves me now. And I know he still loves me too. Time and patience. God knows best.

Happy Birthday to me.

Another Beautiful Sunday

2010-04-11T09:57:00.004+08:00

It's another beautiful Sunday morning, and mornings like this makes me want to shout and jump and just do stuff. No plannings involved. Just get in the car, go there, and do it!

Its amazing how the weather can control us so much.

As compared to yesterday, it was raining in the morning. I stayed in all day. Good did come out of it though, as I got my income tax filled out, and hopefully will get back a little pressie in a few months' time without much questions asked.

But for today, I'm off to get myself involved with the world. And I'm going to enjoy it!

Cleansing

2010-02-22T23:20:00.002+08:00

Mum will be staying with me for a few days. She was discharged yesterday. Being with her doctor daughter is like having a security blanket. She has been through quite a journey since the diagnosis of her tumour, and I think she deserves to have her blanket. I don't mind. She prays that my sins will be forgiven and that I will be happy in this life and the life after. Doas from someone who is unwell is said to be makbul. Insya'Allah......Amen. What a wonderful gift for caring for your own mum.

Heaven lies beneath our mother's feet.

calmness and peace

2010-01-28T23:40:00.003+08:00

To be honest, things aren't that bad.

But things aren't that good either.

Who would have thought, ei? At 31, you'd loose your husband.

6 years later, still alone.

It's not that bad really. Honestly, it isn't. Its just a little bit lonely. That's all. But the days are so packed with responsibilities, you don't have time to think about loneliness, until when its like....11.44pm, when the house is quiet, and the kids are asleep.

I miss the snuggles and the hugs.

I miss the jokes. I miss his cheeky smile. I miss talking to him.

But I won't die of loneliness. People don't. I've never signed a death cert with "Loneliness" as a cause of death. Or a "Broken Heart".

Other than that, I am getting along quite well. I am independent and I am managing everything on my own. Kids are happy. Its not that bad.

Career going along well. I am due for another promotion. The ball is rolling very fast in that department and I am not complaining.

The plan for our big trip is underway. It'll cut a big hole in my savings, but one thing I've learnt from my husband is to cherish quality time with the kids and not to worry too much about spending on ourselves. Money can be earned again later. As long as its spent carefully. The kids will grow up soon, and I won't have these opportunities for ever.....

So, I think its time to just lie peacefully in my double bed, free from disagreement and conflicts, close my eyes, recite my kalimah shahadah and sleep......

Hot Sunny Sunday

2010-01-24T10:56:00.003+08:00

Its a hot day today.

Things tend to boil faster when its hot.

I sat at my computer going through all the paper work that was to be handed last friday at work. But, there were PLENTY of mistakes, and I had to redo them all.

The temperature was rising steadily as the morning sun shone through my bedroom window.

Recalling events from the last few weeks, feeling all that effort put in helping my mum's recovery repaid in resentment and anger from her.

Parents can be very hurtful. The more you do, the more they expect from you. Do they not realise that I could not cope with their demands? Everybody is demanding. Parents, kids, patients, bosses. Because I could not cope, last week I decided to let a few things go. Now I feel guilty for letting things go. Is there no end to this?

I think its time to curl up into a ball.......

Disappear for a while.......

To float away, weightless of any burden......

"UMI! Can you please fill out these forms. The school fees are due."
"UMI! I can't get the Publisher to paste my document......" whah? since when is she using MS Publisher....even I don't know how to use it.

THUD! That was a quick float.....who am I kidding?

Strength

2010-01-20T23:10:00.003+08:00

Its been just over 3 weeks since mum had her seizure. The surgery went well, but she is back in hospital with an infection. A minor set back. Nothing too serious.

Why has taking care of her been so emotionally and physically strenuous? It has been so much different from taking care of my late hubby. I never felt this kind of tiredness then. Now, I feel torn apart between taking care of her, my responsibility and the guilt for not attending to my children, missing them dearly, the worry and uncertainty about work, my father's health and worrying about my new him. I do wonder now how I managed to take care of my late hubby those 4 years. How I used to get up at night to make sure he was still breathing. How I managed to drive and walk up and down the hospital, sleep on a foldaway chair while I was already full term in my pregnancy. Where is that person today? Did she die with him? I ponder at my own questions. I was given the strength then, and I thank Allah, as he had no one to care for him but me. Am I not sincere in caring for my mum? Am I such a bad person to be feeling so tired? Why has the strength not be given to me this time?

I am obsessively compulsive to do best for others.
Wanting to continue fighting a loosing battle.

Not wanting to admit that I was wrong.
Stubborn.

Today, I have decided to change myself for the better (I hope).
I will have to let go.
Learn to be not obsessive, uncompulsive.
Accept that perfection is not a realistic goal.
Learn to let go of something, even if we have worked hard for it, knowing we will not succeed.
To cut our losses.
To stop striving for the unachievable.

To let others take on the carer's role.
To let others make their own decisions. Learn to accept their decisions even if I don't agree with it, as I could be wrong.

I have been wrong.

Today I admit it.

Now, I can move on. I want to move on.
I have packed up my past. I have accepted my weaknesses. Like putting away his things in boxes, it was hard. I cherish the memories, but I cannot keep holding on too tightly to them. Tomorrow, I will move a step further. I will give away those boxes.

My love for him will never fade.

My love for my family is unmeasurable, incomparable. But I'm no superhero. I don't need to go and save the day.

2010

2010-01-02T00:58:00.002+08:00

As the remnants of 2009 crap is carried over into 2010, I still look forward to this new year with optimism.

I hope to change my workplace so I no longer have to work under an idiotic dictator.

The new workplace is a blank canvas where I can spread my wings and develop a service that will benefit all.

The brain surgery mum will be undergoing next week will see cure and better health ahead.

The start of teenage-hood for my little man will see him grow into a strong character, filled with Iman and Intelligence.

My little princess will bloom into a young lady, loving, giving and caring. She has always been hard working and alhamdulillah, has always done well in school.

And for those who insist that I am still young and should find someone to share my life with, may I tell you all once again that I have found my perfect match. He is someone kind, caring, and thinks me as his world, the center of his Universe, the love of his life. He is my best friend. (Bonus points: He is cute, he sings and plays the guitar) His wanting to learn and his commitment to Islam in a society where propaganda and negativity against Islam can be at times overwhelming are characteristics of a strong family leader. He adores the children. What more do we need? Though we may be thousands of miles apart, we are more closer than some people can ever be.

And may all the family be given happiness, health and wealth. May the new additions to the family (2 new grandchildren for Atok and Wan) this year bring further joy to their parents.

To all my friends, thank you. Life wouldn't be the same without good friends. May you all get my jokes this year....

May Allah grant us our prayers. Amin.

F.E.A.R

2009-12-29T23:06:00.002+08:00

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

2009-12-24T22:46:00.003+08:00

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

2009-12-22T22:33:00.003+08:00

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

2009-12-21T23:49:00.000+08:00

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

Signs

2009-12-21T08:28:00.005+08:00

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

2009-12-20T01:59:00.003+08:00

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

2009-12-19T14:42:00.003+08:00

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

2009-12-18T12:26:00.002+08:00

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!

2009-12-16T22:22:00.002+08:00

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

2009-12-13T18:20:00.003+08:00

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

2009-11-09T18:11:00.002+08:00

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?

2009-10-29T22:52:00.002+08:00

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

2009-10-17T19:34:00.002+08:00

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

2009-10-11T00:50:00.003+08:00

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.

2009-10-07T23:29:00.002+08:00

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

2009-10-05T23:34:00.002+08:00

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

2009-10-03T06:12:00.004+08:00

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

2009-08-31T01:03:00.002+08:00

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

2009-08-07T23:13:00.003+08:00

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

2009-08-06T22:53:00.003+08:00

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.

2009-08-03T23:02:00.003+08:00

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.

2009-07-31T22:42:00.001+08:00

I miss him.

Survival of the Fittest

2009-07-26T22:43:00.003+08:00

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

2009-05-15T23:07:00.003+08:00

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

2009-04-11T18:33:00.002+08:00

"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

2009-02-24T21:24:00.004+08:00

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

2009-02-12T20:21:00.008+08:00

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

2009-02-11T00:12:00.003+08:00

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

2009-02-09T23:29:00.003+08:00

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

2009-01-04T14:24:00.003+08:00

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.

Ring Ring. Wake up call.

2008-12-19T00:12:00.003+08:00

As I tried to sort out a million things in my head while driving home this evening, my body went into autopilot.

I must remember to sort out those xrays.
The patient needs a new wheelchair.
She needs to have her blood pressure sorted out, or she will have another stroke soon.
That young boy is still having a lot of tremours after his head injury. We need to find ways to compensate for his safe return to school.
His wife is dieing of cancer. He needs to learn to take care of himself now.
The roof is leaking.
The kitchen pipes have burst.
The upstairs bathroom is leaking into the downstairs bathroom.
My statistic supervisor has just resigned. I need to find a new one.
How do I do this multiple regression analysis on my research?
What? The case reports are due in now????
New shoes for the boths of you? Didn't we just buy new ones a few months ago?
Books....the text books given by the school looks like goat food....where can I buy them new text books? The shops don't sell them anymore.

BANG!!!!

I woke up from my plethora of mixed thoughts.....

Oh crikey! There goes the expected year end half month bonus. I need a new front grill, the front bumper needs paneling and I'm hoping the radiator isn't leaking. The Proton Saga I fended was not damaged. Thank goodness...and a bit of a miracle....otherwise that would have been another worry. And no one was injured. Not seriously anyway. Except for this ringing sound in my ear, which I've mistaken for the phone twice this evening, I think I am not damaged.

Hello?......

Self reminder

2008-12-14T16:23:00.004+08:00

I looked in the mirror, saw the reflection of a tired, weary faced, blood-shot eyed and aged woman.

"Are you tired?" I asked.
The reflection nodded.
"So am I" I replied, in the hope to comfort.

I splashed some water over my face. Submission date is looming too close for comfort, and the research is no where near completion. I have 2 weeks to do this. Research Viva is in January. Only on approval of the research will I be allowed to sit the exams in May.

Its been a long journey! But, getting there..............almost there. Almost there!

I looked back at the reflection in the mirror and a smile appeared. All journey will eventually come to an end, and what we get will reflect our efforts, doas from all and most importantly, the rezeki Allah has set aside for us.

"Remember"....I reminded myself. "Remember why you are doing this. You had this discussion with him over 5 years ago. You have 2 children that depends on your success. Bills bills bills....and most importantly, this is your passion, this is what you do best in, and you can make a difference on things that you found were deficient during his care. Pahala....masya'Allah! The many lives you have changed and will change. This is your investment for the afterlife. Go and do it!"

Ok! OK! I remember!

Lets get back to this research! Go Go Go!!!! Its all Go from now.

Birthday Doas

2008-11-09T20:48:00.002+08:00

It's his 38th birthday. I had to work today. We got up in the morning, had a bit of french toast and baked beans and I drove to work.

I came home in the afternoon, had tea with the kids and later dinner. The usual remote control squabbles ended the evening.

Its another day ended.

"We didn't go to ayah's grave Umi." said my little girl.

"No sayang. Umi had to work, remember?"

"Remember when she wanted to bring the cake and have ayah's birthday party at the cemetery Umi?" teased her older brother, as he pointed and laughed at his younger sister.

"I can't remember that!" cried my princess.

"You were such a little girl Darling. You were only 4." I replied.

"I didn't get to spend much time with Ayah, and now, I can't remember much of it." she sulked.

"It's ok. The important thing is that you should remember Ayah in your daily doas. And what ever good you both do, Ayah will get the pahala. And that will be your gifts for him, every single day of your life. Isn't that wonderful?" I asked.

The kids pondered on it for a few minutes, until the remote control issue came up again......

Its another day ended.

16 Syawal

2008-10-16T19:57:00.002+08:00

At exactly 10.25am, 16th Syawal, 5 years ago, I leaned beside him, whispering the kalimah in his ears. I whispered words of love, and how proud we were of him. And though we will miss him very much, I didn't want him to suffer any longer. I said my good-byes and kissed him, as I felt his cheeks still warm and soft. He stopped breathing and I let out a sigh of relief for him. Ya-Allah, he has returned to you. Please forgive his sins and place him amongst those whom you have bestowed your Grace.

The memory is so clear, it could have just happened yesterday. Yet, it felt almost foreign, like a scene from a movie. Am I detaching myself from the past? I do not know.

Happy Eid

2008-10-02T11:23:00.002+08:00

5th Eid without him, and you would think I have gotten used to it. Not....maybe never. It's not logical, if you think about it, that such an eventful day can go by without feeling the sadness of his absence. Even on days where there is no special event, he is always in my heart and prayers.

I sat there, watching our children play and laugh with their cousins. The boys, all approaching their teenage hood, no longer run and jump with their younger siblings. They sit and chat and laugh about God knows what while playing with their Uncle's X-Box. The younger ones are drenched in sweat while they run around, playing a game that almost appears to have an aim, laughing and shouting. The toddlers watch in envy as they try to catch up. This is what it's all about, isn't it? Family gatherings and celebrating with loved ones while we are still here.

By the end of the day, I felt warned out and needed my quiet time, as I head home. I haven't been able to sleep at my parents house in years. I hate the house, as it reminds me of his illness. He was trapped there for many months and the room he stayed in was a prison to us. I am grateful that we had a place to stay during the phase of his illness, but its too painful to stay there. The smell of the 'library' cum our living quarters is unbearable.

The kids didn't want to come back with me that night. Its ok. They gave me hugs and I drove home in quietness.

5th Eid without him, I have learnt to wear my bracelet on my own. This year, it didn't drop to the floor like it did the previous 4 years.

Happy Eid to all.

The visit

2008-09-07T17:47:00.004+08:00

He came and visited us yesterday, in our dreams. All three of us had wonderful dreams of happiness.

I was walking home from work, up the hills in Brighton. The sun was in my face, and I could see the bay window of our cottage. (It wasn't really the cottage we lived in, but it was a gorgeous little cottage near the cul-de-sac. I always imagined us living there....). The curtains were drawn open, and I could see him in the front living area reading the papers. My heart skipped a beat, before it went into a little rhythm of excitable arrythmias. It was him. It was truly him, and I missed him so much that day.

I hastened my pace to reach home faster and as he turned the pages of the paper, he caught me walking up the hill towards the front door from the corner of his eyes. He folded the paper and gave me a smile. I saw him getting up to open the door, but I got there first and ran into the living room to give him the biggest hug ever.

He hugged me back, and it felt wonderful. He was his strong self again, before the lymphoma, before the chemo, before the bone marrow transplant, before the graft rejection, before the lung failure........

I stood back for just a second to get a good look at him again. He was in his favourite khaki coloured trousers and dark shirt. He smiled and pulled me up for a second hug.

Then he whispered in my ears, "Anything you want. You can have anything you want."

Then I woke up. I was back in my room. I closed my eyes again, just to grab that sensation of his presence again. It was lovely. What a beautiful dream.

Thank you Abang, for visiting. We say prayers for you everday. We are doing ok insya'Allah. We hope you resting peacefully in Allah's protection. Come again soon, ok?

Happy Anniversary

2008-08-31T20:05:00.003+08:00

"Hellooooo" said the familiar voice.

"Hello" I replied.

"How is my wife to be?" He had that cheeky tone in his voice. It was early, but we were already up. I don't think I slept much that night. The "hantarans" took a bit longer than expected. I hope the make-up lady can get rid of the bags underneath my eyes with her magic kit.

"hahaha..." I laughed back.

Its been a long wait. Almost 6 years, and we have been very patient. I was excited, scared, happy and lots of other things I cannot mention on this blog......

"Everything ready?" I asked him.

"Yes, all ready to go."

"Ok then, I'll see you here this evening!"

The akad went well. Dad's very traditional about things. He hired some traditional malay group that played the kompang and gong that night. So, while we had the bersanding, the music played in the background. It was very nice.

The actual invites were not till tomorrow, so eventhough we were officially husband and wife, dad insisted he go home....WHAT? Wait some more? But, we obliged, and he went home.

Sorry for making you wait. I am even more sorry that we didn't get to spend more time together. I was only respecting my parents wishes. They wish alot....and can be quite demanding at it too. Sometimes, parents think they are doing the best for us. If we got married during college, would we have done as well as we did? I believe we could have, as you were my motivator and my teacher and you were just plain smart, caring and loving. How could we have not done better? I'm sorry again sayang. We wasted 6 years.....6 very precious years.

And now, here I am again. Respecting my parents wishes.

To my love, happy 12th year anniversary. We are surviving. Kids are growing well. They are smart little ones, and I pray that they will succeed here on earth and also in the afterlife. I hope they will pray and love us as much as we do for them.

And you, I will definitely see you later. We just have to wait a little while longer.

The Getaway

2008-08-23T14:53:00.013+08:00

Finally, we were on our mini break, the first we've had in over a year. Just the 3 of us. This was also the first break in Malaysia without Abang, and other family members. Since he passed away, we've never been away on our own for holidays in Malaysia. (Going home to his mum's don't count though.)

So, I decided to do baby steps first. Somewhere close. We were all quite apprehensive about it, surprisingly. Then again, this is the first drive away that we've had since I've been ill.

It was a success. We had a 'quiet' time, taking into consideration it was the school holidays. I had my sips of coffee and snooze on the balcony with the sound of the rolling waves, and the nice sea breeze in my face. I felt lullabied into a sense of ease. It was a much needed break.

Thank you for giving me the gift of still being able to enjoy the beauties of your Earth. Thank you for giving me that sense of calmness.

Overwhelmed by it all, I broke down into tears once we got home. Tears of joy, I think. I now know that we can do it, and it's going to be just the three of us for a wee while longer.

the simple things in life

2008-08-10T22:17:00.002+08:00

Today is the last day of my 7 day stretch of passive call. 5 more days of work before I get some time off. I decided to just sit still this afternoon and enjoy some sun and breeze. It was amazing!

Another one of those whiney blogs....

2008-08-03T22:35:00.005+08:00

Not unexpectedly, both children came down with chickenpox. So, there we were, 3 spotty, itchy, grumpy people, cooped in the house. What a sight.....what a week. As I got better, the kids got worst. Which meant no rest for me (again).

It hasn't been an easy start to the new academic year for me. But, apparently, thats the trend with me. Nothing comes easy, but when I do reach the final destination, the reward is overwhelmingly worth it. I cannot wait for that day. I pray to Allah that I am kept strong to pursue this dream. My husband had encouraged me to continue my studies, and thats what I am doing.

It is during these few hard days (which comes in many these days) that emotions become less rational, and tears become more available. It is during these times that vulnerabilities makes me make stupid and hasty decisions. Makes me say silly things, which I will undoubtedly regret later. It is times when the mind starts to cloud with negativity that I spiral into a sense of helplessness. Its quite a dark fall. I feel nauseated.

It is also these times when I wish back for the stability and happiness that I once had. But that is just wishing for the impossible. It is also a reflection of ungratefulness. That is scary. I don't want not to be grateful. These are the times when I miss him most.

Move on....got to keep moving on. Life is just so temporary. I keep telling myself. Get a grip! Remember, the afterlife is my destiny, and what we make of this life will determine our eternity. Its all good.

Confused? I certainly am. I am a bouncing bipolar manic depressive (skewed more to the depressive end)

A natural break

2008-07-20T14:52:00.002+08:00

A month back at work, and I was feeling the strain of the workload, decision makings and emotional turmoil associated with the field of work I choose to be in.

"Please doctor, make her better. She has 2 little girls at home" pleaded her husband. His wife was so severely head injured after the accident, she most likely will never come out of her minimally conscious state. She will need long term nursing care. How do you break that to her husband, who was pleading for her recovery?

The next few weeks continued with more stress at work. Each day became harder. Yesterday's tiredness didn't go away with the night's rest, and energy level for the next day became less and less. I wasn't coping. I needed a break. But because there were always a shortage of doctors, leaves were a luxury, and often, service was a priority. But Allah knew best......

I came down with chickenpox.

Faith

2008-07-06T20:38:00.002+08:00

Faith is a powerful thing to have. It gives me the strength to move on. Knowledge, information, common sense helps us find reasons of why, how, when and what. Information to help give the perception of understanding. However, there are a few things that aren't meant to be understood yet, beyond the comprehension of the weak human being, as Allah knows best. This understanding is kept from us for the time being, until He says it is time for us to comprehend. In the meantime, we search. We may find some of the answers. We may not. It surely does not mean the answers are not there. Thats where faith kicks in for me.

Faith is my foundation, and that makes me believe.
Faith is not something that can be taught, or passed from generation to generation.
Faith cannot be seen and easily explained.
Faith is something from within you. A part of you.
Faith is how I live my life.

I pray to Allah that my faith to Him stands strong, that no one can budge me from my foundations. I pray to Allah to protect me from wrong doings, as I am humble and weak. I cannot ask from any other than Allah to help me.

I thank the Almighty that He has given me the strength and faith needed to keep me strong, to have kept me sane in enduring life's little tests, as life on earth is so mere temporary.

I pray for all my loved ones that they too are kept in Allah's loving grace, and have the faith and believe as I do, if not more.

Amen.

Cancel

2008-06-29T20:36:00.002+08:00

"What does cancel mean Umi?" asked my little butterfly.

"Cancel?" I asked her back, for confirmation.

"Yes, what does it mean?" she asked again. What an odd question to ask. Cancel.....hmmm. They like to ask me all sorts of questions. This is nothing more than the usual (or the usual unusuals).

"Lets see...." as I searched my head for the right words an 8 year old would understand.

"Cancel is like when you had planned something, and then changed your mind. Whatever you had planned didn't happen. So, it was canceled."

I looked at her, hoping to see signs of understanding in her facial expression. Unfortunately, I only saw her forehead wrinkling further and her lips pouting. It was her confused face.

I sighed and tried again.

"Cancel is a word that tells you that what was supposed to happen didn't happen"....that was worst than the first explanation.

She looked at me, then said, "Is that why ayah was canceled".

I was baffled. What ever gave her the idea that her dad was canceled.

"Why do you say that sayang?" I asked her back.

"I heard you saying that ayah was sick and had cancel. Thats why he died." she replied, so innocently naive.

"Oh, sayang. No, no. no. Ayah didn't have cancel. He had cancer." I said.

"What's cancer then?" she asked.

I explained to her about cancer, as simple as I could. And she nodded with understanding. Satisfied with my explanation, she continued with her drawing.

Cancel.

It does feel like that sometimes.

The Great Whiner

2008-06-29T19:19:00.002+08:00

Nobody likes a whiner. I thought I was expressing my feelings, fears, hopes and anxiety to someone that cared. I guess I was wrong. Eventually, we do hit the limits. Well, I'll have to put on that famous mask again then. The smiles, the "I have no care in the world" and "I am so strong, nobody can pull me down" faces again. You learn with time who to turn to, and who not to turn to. But like I said, nobody likes a whiner.
I am glad I have faith. HE, the Almighty will always listen to me.

Afternoon Drive....5 years on.

2008-06-28T19:26:00.003+08:00

Its been 4 weeks now that I have restarted work, trying to regain some normality and routine back into my life. Energy is far from ample. I am afraid to expect anything now, in view of avoiding disappointment.

But this afternoon, I had a bit of energy and we went out for a drive. We haven't been out for a drive since coming back from Dublin. Its been almost a year. Most of the time, its driving with a mission (to get milk, or bread), but this afternoon, it was meant to be a leisure drive, aimless, careless. We wanted to enjoy the afternoon breeze and the soft sun, after the day had been cooled by rain earlier.

It started off nice. Then the air-conditioning decided that it has had enough. It wasn't too bad. We rolled down the window and continued to drive. The breeze was nice. Driving straight on, we came to a dead stop. Traffic. TRAFFIC! Traffic on a saturday afternoon. They had rearranged the route of the main road leading into the town center, and somebody in the town planning council thought they had come up with a good plan. Wrong.

We stayed in the jam for about 30 minutes before turning back at the nearest u-turn, drenched with sweat, we continued on with the drive, this time heading back home.

We passed by the old neighbourhood where we had rented our last house together.

"Oh Umi! Can we go and see the house again? Please?" cried the children.

I agreed, and we turned in. There was also a car accessory and air-conditioning shop near by. So, I stopped there for them to have a look at the car.

"Ah, hello doctor! Nice to see you again." said the mechanic. "New car? Sold the Wira?" Crikey, not only did he remember me, he also remembered the car I drove.

"Yes. You look busy. Business must be very good"

"Ya-lor. Can eat one-lah."

I explained about the air-conditioning predicaments. He knew exactly what was wrong with it. But because the car was still under warranty, he asked me to bring it back to the dealer's authorised workshop. He gave a few details of a good authorised dealer. I said my thanks and left.

We drove to the back of the shop lots where we had rented the house nearly 5 years ago.

"Which one is it?" asked my little princess. She was only 3 when we left, and we hadn't been back here for over 2 years.

"Its that one" replied her older brother. He remembers the place well. He has a good memory for emotional and eventful episodes.

We stopped the car and looked at the house in silence for a few minutes.

It looked sad and shabby. The trees I had planted were larger now, but looked old and unhealthy. Half the leaves were gone. The grass was overgrown and the place looked unloved by its new occupants. The mailbox we had bought, which their dad had tied onto the front gate was broken. It was all very sad.

"Who lives there now Umi?"

"I think its the owner's younger brother and his family. I am not sure"

"Can we go in and have a look?"

"No. Its not our house anymore. We don't want to disturb the people who live there now." I replied.

We had a few more minutes just sitting in the car looking at the house, until the children were satisfied.

"OK everyone? Shall we go?"

The kids agreed, and we left. I saw them look back as we drove away. Tears started to collect in my lower lids. But, I am now an expert of arresting this process. The tears never came out rolling down my cheeks.

On the way home, there was a stall selling durian. This was the place where we had always bought durian. It was a difficult place to revisit, because just before their dad was admitted to hospital for the last time, he had wanted some durians. I had brought a plastic container with me the evening before his admission so the man who sold the durian could actually cut it out for us. I am lousy with opening durians. But driving home that evening, I had forgotten, and drove straight home.

"Durian? Have you got the durian?" He asked me when I got home.

"Oh, I am sorry abang. I forgot. I'll get it tomorrow."

That tomorrow never came.

"Can we have some durians Umi?" asked the kids. I stopped the car at our usual stall. We got out and was greeted by his wife.

"Lah....lama tak jumpa" (Haven't seen you in a while) said the lady, as we exchanged salams. Crikey, she remembered me too.

"Give me the best durians". I requested. Her husband quickly took out the D-25s and U-something arather and U shishkebobs.....they were types of durian, which I have little knowledge of (as you can see.) Her husband opened a bit and asked me to try it. Yes, yummy stuff. He asked me where my plastic container was so he could open them the way he did 5 years ago.......I told him this was an unplanned visit. So, we took home the durians whole.

We drove back. All sweaty and smelling like durian.

"Thank you Umi. That was fun" my son said to me when we got out of the car. My little girl skipped out with joy.

Bless them. I am happy that little things like this, which may not be apparently significantly exciting to the average child, is much appreciated by mine. I hope they keep this attitude about life as a whole.

As I was about to enter the house, I stalled. 5 years on. I looked at the house that we had bought together.

"This is a good house for you and the kids" He told me, as he sat on the unfinished stairs. The house was 90% completed.

"It'll be good for all of us." I corrected him.

"Don't worry. My new house won't be far away" He replied back with a grin.

"Enough with the nonsense." I snapped back at him.

He never did got the chance to move in. That is in a way a blessing in disguise. We were able to move into a new house without the painful memories of him sitting, walking and resting in his favourite spots.

I gave a sigh, and walked in.

5 years on....... It doesn't get easier. But we do adapt. The lonliness doesn't get less. But we do fill up the empty gaps to compensate. The sadness and tears will never go away, but we are now better at holding them back. People see us as "better", because THEY have forgotten the pain. But I am glad about one thing that will never change. And that is the love.

Is this what I have become?

2008-06-22T22:35:00.003+08:00

Sometimes, life's predicaments pushes us into a corner. There is no way out, but to push back these predicaments. The things I have had to do may not be of things I want to do, but of mere need. I need to do it, to survive. 2 little beings depend on me now, and if I do not succeed, the repercussion of failure will be endless. Call me selfish if you want, but when we have no space to give and take, the choices left are little. There are no more sacrifices I can make. I have hit hard bottom. I cannot budge. Its either my way, or my way. And if some cannot accept the situation that I am in now that has led me to this corner, then you should just let me be. I cannot afford to loose anymore. There is just too little left. They are my gems. My heart beats for them, and I will guard my treasures with my life. I am always on high alert, defensive, and prepared.

Signs of Prosperity

2008-05-27T22:25:00.002+08:00

Today I went out for lunch on a girlie outing with one of my best friends. Its been nearly 2 years since I've been out on an outing with my galfriends without the kids.

All excited, I got ready for my little outing. Took my jeans out from the drawer, slipped my legs through and pulled it up.

It got stuck. Must have shrunk in the wash.

Maybe if I did a quick jump and a simultaneous pulled up, gravity will aid me.

I left the house wearing a pair of 'baju kurung'.

Living within the rules of social taboo?

2008-05-24T18:34:00.002+08:00

Someone told me that I should be more careful and tactful by my ways. I am a widow now. It was just a reminder.

?????

I think you have been watching too much RTM afternoon Malay dramas (the re-runs).

Return to Wellness

2008-05-22T16:27:00.002+08:00

Its been a year long illness, and today, I am officially off medication. This experience has been painful not only for me, but most of all to my beautiful children who took good care of me. Come June, I will be working full time again, and isya'Allah, I have learnt to pace myself. (but knowing me.....maybe not) But I realise now that a sick mummy is no good to anyone. In fact, I have in a way taken away a year of joy from my kids. There were days when I was so unwell, my son would tuck me in to sleep, close the drapes, switch on the air conditioner and mosquito pad thingy (ubat nyamuk)....Then, he would tip-toe out of the room after kissing me good night. Aww my poor baby has been forced to grow up so quickly. He has taken on the role as the man of the house with flying colours, and I am so proud of him.

Never the less, any experience must be good somehow. I can say, in my 36 years of life, God has given me the richness of experiences. I have experienced love and loss, I've been a wife and now a widow, I have experienced pregnancies and childbirth, I have experienced living, studying and working in many parts of the world, I have experienced illness and the woes of being a patient, I have experienced being a carer to a terminally ill spouse, I am experiencing life as a single parent and now, I am experiencing the joy of returning to health, much taken for granted by many. I must say, I have definitely taken the more scenic route, the longer winded roads and far more riskier paths, and so far, and I do not plan to stop. Life is to be experienced with guidance from the Almighty.

I hope, God willing, with these experiences, it will make me a better person, a better mother, a better daughter, a better sister, a better auntie, a better doctor and a better friend.

Short Term Plan: this weekend we are going BOWLING! Whoo-hooo!
Long Term Plan: The sky is the limit.

Just a story

2008-05-09T12:00:00.003+08:00

It had just passed 7pm when I arrived home from work, and my bladder was bursting! As soon as I walked through the front door, I was greeted by my husband with "Air kosong ais", which in translation means Iced water.

He had this extreme need of having iced water. It wasn't just cold chilled water from the fridge, it had to be extremely cold iced water. He once said the chemotherapy felt like a burning sensation and that made him burn inside. Iced water had always helped.

"Hi Abang. What a day!" I said as I sighed.

"Air kosong ais" he replied, trying to hide his cheeky grin.

"I really need the loo." I replied. His iced water needed special preparation, as he liked the ice to be crushed in the chilled water, and with a bladder so full like mine, it wasn't a good idea to do it there and then.

"Air kosong ais" I heard him say again.

We didn't have a toilet downstairs, so I ran up the stairs to our bathroom. Got to the toilet and enjoyed the bliss of release.....ahhhhhh. Sat on the toilet for a few moment, as I find it quite relaxing and therapeutic. I get most of my best ideas while on the toilet....but thats another blog in its entirety.

Anyway, as I was enjoying the tranquility of my pink toilet, I heard the phone ringing downstairs. Then, a little voice outside my toilet door called for me.

"Umi, phone" said my 5 year old.

"Umi is in the toilet, can you ask then to call back?" and I heard little feet run down the stairs.
2 seconds later, the little feet was back up and knocking on my bathroom door again.

"Umi, dia kata emejensi" said my son again.

Emergency? This must be important. I quickly washed what was needed to be washed and ran downstairs.

"Hello?" as I picked up the phone.

"Air kosong ais" said a familiar voice on the other line.

I turned around and saw my husband sitting on the chair with his mobile to his ear, but this time, he couldn't hide the cheeky smile.
I put the phone down and gave him 'the look'. We exchanged a few friendly slaps and I surrendered to his demands.

Then I went to the kitchen to make him his air kosong ais.

Till today, this is one of the favourite stories my children love to hear. They would crack up laughing each time. Umi was dooped....yes, yes, very funny, as I laughed with them too.

Tagged! I'm it!

2008-05-07T12:58:00.002+08:00

8 Random facts about me......(tagged by myheartbleeds)

1. I can't swim.

2. I can't cook.

3. When I study, I have to have all my references sprawled on the floor for easy access.

5. I like to sing and make up my own mini songs on the guitar.

6. I enjoy playing games with my children.

7. My friends at work don't get my jokes, but that doesn't stop me from telling them. I enjoy the confused expressions on their faces and their polite laughs, which makes me laugh even more.

8. As a result of no.7, I laugh at my own jokes......

Widow woes

2008-05-02T10:36:00.003+08:00

Car problems (again) and this time it had to be towed to the garage. I was on my way to the hospital for my appointment and was feeling groggy as usual. Now, I was also causing a massive jam for morning travelers rushing to work. Luckily I was on the left lane, and managed to 'guide' the car to the left, off the road. The engine had died all together.

Who do I call? What do I do? My head was a bit light-headed from the morning heat, and side effects of the medication I was taking. Luckily, the car was still under waranty and I called up the road side help line provided by the car insurance. Gave the details of my whereabouts and the tow truck arrived 45 minutes later......phew!

Got to the garage, all sweaty and red. Greeted by my mechanics, who knew me well, since we have been coming here since 2001.
"Ei? New car kaput already?" smiled the senior mechanic. Yes yes yes, rub it in.
I gave him the keys, quick run down of what had happened, and he immediately knew what the problem was. This model was infamous for that problem apparently.
Then I plomped myself in the refreshing air-conditioned waiting room while I read some journals I had brought with me.
"oh, what can I say. If she wants to wear a tudung, she should wear it correctly" said a voice. I looked up from my journal as a lady showed me the tabloid she was reading. It was a picture of Siti Nurhaliza in some function with a drape hanging on her head and shoulders bared with a short sleeved top. "Artist" gossip never interest me. I smiled at her and continued my reading. But, apparently she wanted to have a conversation with me as she waited for her car to get fixed. "its totally her choice. If she doesn't want to wear it, then don't" she continued.
"yes" I said.
"I mean, respect those that are wearing tudung by not mocking it. She is an idol here, and what she wears will be followed by many younger girls". This lady was determined to say her mind, so I let her.
"I agree" I replied.....I was a bit tired from the morning events to dwell on siti's hair attire.
"I have 2 grown up daughters, both went to Chinese schools. The eldest is finishing her degree and the 2nd is about to enter university now."
"Excellent." I said. This topic interested me more than talking about Siti.
"Yes, it was tough for the girls to attend a Chinese stream school, but we found that the discipline was a lot better and they have done well. My two sons couldn't handle it though and left after completing primary school. They are now in Kebangsaan schools."
"How are they doing?" I asked.
"I think its just boys' nature not to be too interested in school, but they are clever boys, and are doing well. Just can't get them to organise themselves well to be disciplined enough to drive themselves. I have to tell them what to do everyday."
I smiled as I listened on to her woes.
"Its harder for me, you see." She continued. "My husband passed away 6 years ago, and I had to raise the 4 children on my own".
I looked at her with empathy.
"Oh, but you wouldn't understand. You would have to go through it yourself to fully understand how hard it is. It was hard." She kept on going. "My husband died of throat cancer. He suffered 10 months before he passed on."
I was speechless.
"I felt my world had ended. The children needed me, and I was the only one there for them. I didn't know what to do then." She said as she shook her head.
All I could do was look at her and gave her a smile, trying to tell her that I did know what she went through, as I too went and still is going through the same experiences. But I couldn't say anything to her. I was not willing to share that part of my past with her, as willing as she was with me.
"Anyway" she said, "The kids have grown up now, and my youngest is in form 1 and the eldest is about to graduate. So, I guess we did survive".
"Yes" I smiled back at her and nodded my head.
Suddenly, a man opened the door and poked his head into the waiting room.
"Have you seen my wallet?" He asked. I recognised the man as the one that was sleeping on the other couch earlier.
"You may have dropped it while you were sleeping on that chair earlier Abang" said the lady. The man looked for it in between the cushions but couldn't find it.
"Did you bring it at all when we left the house Bang?" she asked him. The man just shook his head and left to look outside the garage.
"My husband always misplaces things. I think its all age related" said the lady.
I smiled in acknowledgment.
She then left the waiting area to help her husband look for the missing wallet.

A few things crossed my mind later that day. Why was I not willing to tell her that I too had gone through those same experiences? And why was I surprised when I found out that she had remarried?

Again, my unwillingness to share my past experieneces with this lady is the reason why I am writing my feelings down in this blog. I am not ready to 'expose' myself. I feel vulnerable when people can see my weaknesses, know what's going on in my head, what i am feeling in my heart.....I am not the "Petite n Powerful" I set out myself to be. Its more of "Petite n Pathetic". Hence, the anonymity. If people know who I am, I may not be able to write this. This is my venting space, as I have lost the person who could hear me out, tolerate my detailed stories of the daily on goings, tolerate my mood swings and not question my oddities. So, for those who may have figured out who I am, keep it to yourself (for now, until I am ready).

Remarrying. I am happy that she had found another partner in life. Was her expressing her woes a way of telling me that she wasn't coping and justifying her needs to remarry? I don't know. But, we shouldn't need to justify our actions, when it comes to decisions like marriage. If 'jodoh' is there, then don't fight it. Nobody should question us as adults making these decisions. I am sure that she had thoroughly thought things through, her needs, her children's needs, her happiness, her wants and desires. I remind myself that loosing a spouse doesn't mean that our lives have stopped. We are still very much alive. And living alone for the rest of our lives is a scary and morbid thought. What normally sane person would want to wish that for themselves?

Wisdom through Cause and Effect

2008-04-18T11:41:00.003+08:00

It used to anger me when people said that "at least you had a chance to take care of him. Sudden deaths are a lot worst for those who are left behind." WHAT? And that comment was supposed to make me feel better? A loss is a loss at the end of the day, regardless whether it was sudden or through long illness. Tell me how looking after a person I love so much in his 4 years of illness makes it any better when he died? The rocky road of 'recoveries' and setbacks. He was getting better, then he wasn't....He overcame the acute infection, only to have complications from drug reactions etc.....and this journey towards his death was all supposed to make it better? It didn't make sense. I felt like yelling at the people who made those comments...and there were many!

But that was me going through the "anger" stage of mourning my loss. On acceptance now, I look back in a different light. It was a journey, a journey much cherished. It did prepare me, and I felt I had done all I can. We both did. There will be the occasion of "if only I had noticed that earlier, he might not have deteriorated so much". But as Allah had decided, even before we were born, the specific day, place and time of our death exact to the second. There should not be any regrets.

I digress....

Anyway, there is always the Hikmah of sudden death and that following chronic illness. In sudden death, there would not have been any hardship associated with loss of health, disability and painfully watching oneself/loved ones deteriorate by the day. That's a hikmah. In death following chronic illness, you get the opportunity to reflect, repent and learn to grow closer through hardship. That too is a hikmah.

Motherly instinct

2008-04-11T13:50:00.002+08:00

As a mother and (was) a wife, my instincts tell me to protect the people I love, to make sure they don't get hurt physically or emotionally. I'd die for the people I truely love. I'd do anything for them, even if it means putting my own self interests and happiness aside. Today, I did something in my mind was to protect. I said a lie. Is that right? I have learnt today that any lie, whether it white or not, is never good. It ended up hurting the people I initially intended to protect. I am sorry.

pictures

2008-04-11T07:59:00.000+08:00

The walls leading upstairs are filled with framed pictures I have put up of family, especially of my late hubby. Dating pictures, wedding, vacations, him with then the babies and just day by day stuff we used to do but were caught on that 'kodak moment'. It felt just like yesterday it all happened, but at the same time an eternity away.

Makcik oh makcik (translated Aunty oh aunty)

2008-04-10T16:12:00.000+08:00

36 years old on Saturday. Alhamdulillah.
I forget sometimes that I am approaching 40 soon. I don't feel any different from how I was 10 years ago. I guess that must be good. The occasional gray hair (but I've always had a bit since I was a teenager.....I put it down to too much studying....) and the wee wrinkles I call smile lines and lines of wisdom. Nothing too worrying. I also have this 'babyface'......chubby and round, and being only 4 foot 10 does add to the effects of 'youngness'. I even got away as being a university undergrad student while I was at the mechanics a few weeks ago.....But I have days like the one I'm about to tell to remind me of my age......
Once upon an afternoon, as I sat on my swing with my daughter, enjoying the late afternoon sun and the light soothing breeze, my relaxing moment was disturbed by a rolling white object that came to a rest near my feet. It was a football. The neighbourhood boys were playing football in the field behind my house, and one extra enthusiastic boy had kicked it over the wired fence into the compound.
The boys, young teenagers, looked my way and waited for me to respond. Oh, ok. I guess they wanted their ball back. I picked it up contemplating whether I should kick it over the fence or throw it back at them. Since these boys are my son's friends, I thought I'd do the motherly thing and not kick it. I threw it over and the boys thanked me.
"Thank-you MAKCIK!"......ei? You talking to me?
"That's Makcik-ster United to you!"* I thought..... I suddenly felt 20 years older.......
Dang!

*with special thanks to Aquamatt for making this story possible.

Unselfish love

2008-04-09T18:11:00.000+08:00

People had asked me why I had brought him to hospital and not stayed home knowing that it would be his last few days. Would he not have been more comfortable at home? I wondered and pondered about this myself. Thinking back, it was a request from him, and I am glad he had made most of the decisions about his own end-of-life issues, though we did discuss them. He was a sharp man, knew exactly what he wanted, and knew exactly what I needed. I had been nursing / doctoring him at home for the past 3 weeks with intravenous antibiotics and fluids. We knew what the signs were, and it was worsening. I used to wake up many times in the night, checking to see if he was breathing, as I laid my hands softly on his chest and felt it move as he inhaled and exhaled. Family was always close by, but he was the type of person that did not want to trouble anyone, me included. When he saw that I was becoming quite warn out, he called for help. My sister and brother in law drove us to the hospital. Though I have come to 'hate' the hospital at that stage, it was still our comfort zone. We had spent many of our earlier years working, sleeping, eating, growing and basically living in this institution as working doctors. This was our safe haven, amongst collegues and friends that could share the burden of decision making and care. Amongst people that understood the illness in depth as we did. And so, I knew that my late husband had made that decision for me more than for himself, his unselfishness in caring for me was his priority, even at the end.

memories

2008-04-06T17:02:00.000+08:00

By a turn of fate, I am currently working in the same exact hospital where I had spent many months traveling back and forth with him for his chemotherapy, blood checks, follow ups and the bone marrow transplant. I've been working here for the past 4 years now. My first day there was just a mere 6 months after his passing, and walking into those same front doors with so many painful memories was agonizing. I used to have to stop just before approaching the front doors, take a deep breath, give out a long sigh and recompose myself. Then I walked in, with my heart beat thumping in my ears, and a lump in my throat. I would pass a row of seats at the front door, where patients used to sit, waiting for whom ever is to pick them up arrived at the "pick up/drop off" drive through. Many were bald, had masks on indicating they were immunocompromised and needed extra precautions. One particular patient used to sit regularly at HIS seat, and sat there with the same body composure as HIM, slightly slouched and legs crossed. Each morning I saw this patient, it would trigger off so many memories, that at times I get startled thinking that it was HIM. But no, it was another battling the same ordeal. On some occasions, I may have stared too long at this person, that he notices that someone is looking at him. Initially, I would quickly look away, so not to give him the impression that I was looking. Its rude to stare.....
Many weeks went on like this. The hospital was large, and I worked in a different section from where my late hubby had received his treatment. But on occasions, I would have to go into the same wards as where we spent many nights together, me on the foldable chair, and him imprisoned in the ward. There were even times where I had to go back to the same bed where HE had passed on. "Be strong. Be strong" I kept telling myself. I did crumble the first time I went back to Bed 33 on ward U11. I had understanding collegues who took over.....but I couldn't keep crumbling everytime I was called to that ward. The next time, I did it. It wasn't as tough as I thought it would be. The nurses and staff there all recognised me, and asked how I was. The place looked a lot different too from those last 5 nights when I had spent near Bed 33. It was the High Dependency ward and had 4 beds in that cubicle. It looked a lot smaller than when I remembered it to be. It looked crowded and uncomfortable. But from what I recall 6 months ago, as I spent the last 5 nights with him there, the cubicle was very spacious. I was at ease and so was he.
The last night there, as HE was drifting in and out, mumbling words, and hearing him say the Syahadah in between his dhikr and reliving past memories, I had stayed by his side as much as possible. We were reciting the quran close to him, to give him guidance for the final journey. I heard him call my name asking for a hug. It was a very quick hug yet the most meaningful. It was also the last hug he gave me, and he quickly pushed me away. That gesture told me it was going to be soon.
Morning did come for us, and it was a very long night. He wanted a hair cut and asked me to cut his nails. I told him I'll do the nails, but the hair cut might be a bit too challenging, as I smiled at him. Unfortunately, I didn't even get to finish his nails when his breathing suddenly became shallow. The Consultant was there with us doing her rounds as I was whispering the Shahadah in his ears. She asked me if I wanted any form of active resuscitation. I shook my head and she understood. She left us for our last moments together. I whispered again in his ears to tell him how much we love him, and that we will miss him. But, we will see each other again later, as our bond will never be broken. I heard him say our little girl's name. I hope that the angels have come for him in the form of our daughter, a familiar figure he loves so much, so that he will not be afraid to follow.
He passed away peacefully with me cradling him. Surprisingly, I felt a tremendous sense of relief for him. His fight and suffering had finished and he will be resting in peace now, God willing. I also felt a relief for me, not because caring for him was a burden, but now, I no longer have to see him suffer.
4 and a half years on, I now walk into those same front doors with more strength than ever. I see the same patients sitting there, but this time, I do make eye contact and smile at them. I walk down the same corridors we used to walk along, remembering. But now, it is a memory of how much we love each other and the journey we shared.

Final wishes

2008-04-03T12:47:00.000+08:00

We had a talk a week before he passed on. He told me he won't make it to the new year. He might not even make it to the end of next week. I looked at him, all teary, but I nodded. This wasn't us giving up. It was us discussing on how we should move on. POA- Plan of Attack. He loved waking up in the mornings and asked me, "Whats the POA for today?"
Both of us being doctors knew exactly what was going on....and we knew too much. Ignorance can be a bliss, a luxury we didn't have.
I've lived this episode many many times with my patients. This would be the time where you would tell the spouse to start preparing. We were staying in our rented house at that time, and our two young children sensed that something was a miss. They became very restless and it affected him. It affected both of us. So, with saddened eyes, he said he needed some quiet time to rest and requested the children be sent to my mum's house. People say that when one is about to leave this earth, they would want the most precious to be away from them so that they can leave peacefully, without hesitation....without the love of his children holding him back.
So, the POA was for the children to go to my parents. He asked for his mother to come over. I called, but she was not well, and couldn't make the long trip by bus on her own. She had to wait for the weekend when one of his sibblings could come over and pick her up.
Next POA was about resuscitation. Don't.
Next was about funeral arrangements. He didn't want to travel far from us, back to his hometown. He wanted to be buried in the cemetery that was just 2 minutes away, so that everytime we passed by his new home, we would say hello and say a prayer for him.
On the day of the funeral, he wanted his mother's well being looked into. Make sure she has a comfortable place to sleep that night and her meals are taken care of.
He wanted the children be explained about his passing, and to attend the burial. He wanted his brothers to send him to his final resting place. Even the one that he didn't get along with....
Then last, but not least, he wanted me to continue living, get on with my career, which we had to put on hold for a couple of years, be happy and look after our children. He wanted me to marry again. But I had to promise him that whom ever I chose must not only make me happy, but make our children happy too.
I sat there quiet, but I nodded.
Then he apologised for having to leave so soon.
Sayang, I've done everything on our POA list. (Except the last bit).

My flowers

2008-04-02T11:22:00.000+08:00

My birthday is coming up soon. 36 years old.....and it'll be my 5th birthday without him (at least physically), but always there in heart and soul. I remember my first birthday card I got from him. It was my 19th birthday....wow, such days of naivety and not a care in the world! He gave me fresh flowers too. But me, being this shy girl, quickly hid them away from people to see. A gesture he misunderstood as something I did not appreciate and disliked.On the contrary! He had made me so happy I was blushing. But I had broken his heart that day. We had talked about it, and I apologized. He said he understood, and the event was much forgotten....Until the night before he passed away. He was in a state of delirium, coming in and out of deep sleep. He had been whispering past events and appeared to be reliving moments in his life. Moments that were significant enough to trigger off memories. One of which were the flowers event back in 1991. I noticed in between the mumblings of incomprehensible words were "flowers" and "wilted" and it broke my heart that these were the things he was remembering in the last few hours of his life.
"I loved them" I whispered in his ears. "I loved them very much".

family ties

2008-03-17T08:08:00.000+08:00

I was just looking back at my previous entry, and I sounded a bit harsh about family and friends helping out. In fairness, everybody has commitments, and everybody has their own set of worries and troubles, just in different forms. I wouldn't have gotten by without my family and friends, and the thought of having them around is just as good. My sister for example has 6 children, all under the age of 13, and my sister in law has 5, all under the age of 9! Crikey O'Malley! Talk about having a full plate! These two wonderful ladies, full time mothers and full time professionals are amazing people. I also have another sister who is just too far away to help me physically, but I am sure she send her prayers, which is just as important, as for what they pray for maybe the reason why God has made it tolerable for me. As for my 3 brothers....well, I have no explanation for their ignorance about the whole situation. It must be something in the Y-chromosome......

a full plate

2008-03-15T21:51:00.000+08:00

When do you decide that there is just too much going on, that you no longer can cope? Sometimes, I think its just pure laziness, and if I exert myself a bit more, I will be able to get it all done. Whats on my plate? I have two children, and as beautiful a gift they are from God, this morning I had to take away the ASTRO smart card. One is a football maniac, while the other isn't.....Conflicting interests results in intermittent changing of channels and wails of shouts and crying. I also have my Masters degree thesis to finish, case reports, medical reports to write, study for my final exams, and work full time. I also have a maid that can't differentiate dairy products from detergents....so, dairy products go in the shelves under the sink while detergent can find their way into the fridge. Food shortages in the pantry is a never ending saga, something in the house breaks down on a daily basis and there is always the question of making ends meet with all the bills. Making sure the household and domestic affairs are looked into, taxes paid, lawn mowed and that I am not harvesting aedes mosquitoes in the backyard. Not to mention parents with never ending medical ailments, yet never wanting to listen to advice....Then, there is the love of my life who is so far away. How do I cope? How do I know that I am not coping? I took care of everybody, except myself. I became ill. It took a major illness for my body to tell me that 'enough is enough'! Yet, there is nothing on my plate that i can discard. Everything is essential.
Help from family and friends. Easy said, then actually done. Though I know everybody has the great intentions to help, its just not that easy. Call if you need me, they say. I am always here for you, they say. Tell us what you need, they ask. Don't worry about asking for help, they tell me. Yet, I am still alone, driving myself to the hospital for my blood tests and medical check ups. Yet, I drag my feet to the shops to buy groceries to feed my children. I have asked, but when I see how hard it is for them to deliver, I feel guilty. It even feels worst when siblings start to squabble over who should do it.....never mind, I'll do it myself.
I am grateful that God has given me the strength. I am strong. Strong willed to survive this test that He has given me. I have never been a quitter, and I will not be starting now. My late husband has taught me a great lesson in life, and his strength and will power flows in me today. This setback in health is temporary, God willing, and I will be back on my feet soon. Again, this is just another reminder from Allah to me, to make me a better person, and to forgive my previous sins.

Materials

2008-03-02T03:26:00.000+08:00

His lungs were failing him. It broke my heart when the physician said that it would be best he be put on home oxygen therapy. I nodded my head in agreement. He was getting tired, and even short sentences were an effort. I looked at him, head slumped in despair as the reality of it all kicks in. "Its ok" I told him. We will arrange something. We had a few options. Robust oxygen cylinders that need refilling every few days, or we could buy machines called oxygen concentrators. It would make him more mobile. Costs were an issue though, as the mobile ones costs RM18 000, and the larger home based ones were RM6 000. We wanted both, so at least he can still get out and about as the mobile ones had car extension leads to them. The disadvantage of these mobile ones were that it was pulse driven. He still had to make an effort to take a deep breath for the oxygen to be released from the machine. The bigger ones were continuous release.
RM24000.....that was half our life savings. He saw me hesitate when we were making that decision, one of the few things I regret till today. I wish I hadn't hesitated so much to buy it. He looked at me and said "You can sell it when I am gone". The words still echo in my ears.....
Material and money are replaceable. Though I spend wisely, because being a single mum with a single income is a challenge on its own these days, I will not hesitate to spend on my children. We never know when we will no longer be able to enjoy the nikmat that The Almighty has given us on this earth, as life here is so temporary.

Happy Ending

2008-02-27T23:33:00.000+08:00

I am grateful that I had spent the last 4 years of our lives together as we did. In that 4 years, I had only spent 2 nights away from him (due to work). We were always together, and his illness has brought us closer than anyone could imagine. We were close to start off with. Our 6 year romance in College was a fairy tale of dramas. My parents you see, are very protective of me. Going abroad to University at 18 I suppose was something scary for any parent. But, I had an admirer when I got there. Even the thought of it makes me smile today. He was a well respected member of our Malaysian community, he was a very smart student, athletic and as a bonus, he could sing and play the guitar! People would come up to him when they needed advice about anything. And this guy liked me? I was this outsider that didn't come from their university take. I knew no one when I got there. He was very helpful....little did I know.
Our friendship blossomed, and he became my best friend. Summer vacations and being away from him was agonising! My parents at that stage did not allow it...no boyfriends while studying! So, I couldn't share this wonderful part of my life with my family until 4 years later. Keeping secrets were always a part of it, and until now, I still can't talk about some of my deepest feelings with my family because that was how I was brought up. I make a conscious effort that I will not do the same with my children.
Everyday of our 7 year marriage is much cherrished. We have 2 beautiful children, who are so full of life that they keep me going. His spirits are always with us. We talk about him everyday. Sometimes, however, the kids want to hear something new about their daddy. I had run out of stories....Guilty as charged, I would make up believable stories about his childhood and how I would have imagined it to be. I sometimes make up stories about things we wished we did together but didn't have the opportunity. It makes the children happy. What makes them happy, makes me happy.
I am happy, much to the disbelieve of others. I am happy how things happened the way they did, and I am happy how things ended. There will be the occasional sorrows, because I am human. There will be days where I am in denial. But those days do not come often now. Do you think time has healed me? In a way, I hope it hasn't. I wasn't injured to start off with. We parted in love, and thats a happy ending.

denial

2008-02-17T10:41:00.000+08:00

Form fillings.....official forms. Can't hide away from it.

"We will need your particulars and your husband's for this loan application".

Oh....ok. Ummmmm......4 years and 2 months on, and I am still in denial. People can be so stereotypical. Why did she assume that I had a husband to particulise? I stared at the application form. It had a few boxes to tick. It was a simple enough form to fill.

Status: Single, Married, Divorced, Seperated, Widowed. No box to tick for Denial.

"Are you ok madame?"

"Sorry?" I asked.

"Do you need help with the form?" She asked me.

"Oh....No. No, I am ok. Just give me a few more minutes." She gave me a smile. One of those "hurry up already will you" smiles. I looked back at the status box. Why is it so hard to tick my status? I quickly gave it a tick, signed the bottom of the form and handed it back to the lady.

"Thank you madame. Please have a seat while we process your application." I sat down in the cold waiting area. Banks are just so....banky. I never know why I get nervous at the bank. I sat patiently.

The lady came out again, and she nodded at me, indicating that I should approach the counter.

"Ok Dr. We will take about 24 hours to finalise the contract of the loan and check out your financial background. But I am sure there will not be a problem. We will contact you tomorrow. Once this loan is approved, we will deal directly with the car sales agent so you won't have to come in again. The agreement will be sent to your mailing address by registered post."

"Thank you." And I left.

Another loan to add to the list. It was a lot easier when there were two of us paying for it. I'm struggling to make ends meet. But, who would believe.....a doctor that can't afford a house and a locally manufactured car. I don't mind though, not living in luxury. Just enough to have a solid roof over our heads, meal on the table, and a bit put aside for our children's future education. I do however mind the numbness that I have on life.

The art of self therapy

2008-02-17T10:22:00.000+08:00

My feelings and words have no correlation when it comes to sitting down and discussing about 'the issues'. I have many, you see. And it all appears to be tangled, like last year's festive lights. They are a mixture of wonderful and colourful memories, yet some are broken and missing or no longer lighting up. I wonder if blogging it all down will make it all clearer. Some people do, and it appears to be helping them...at least superficially. I think I have nothing to loose, so I'll give it a try.
Let me see how this blog appears. First time blogger.....