Archive for November, 2010

Last night my husband was telling me that one of the things on his mind is to upgrade our home alarm system. We have been having one for the past two years and it has been serving us reasonably well, with the occassional false alarms. The man who came to fix the alarm for us told us that some people choose not to have the alarm fixed outside the home because of these false alarms. I thought that it was rather strange, having an alarm system but not wanting to have it outside your house to protect the surrounding areas.

We used to have a security patrol service that goes round the housing estate. The security guard informed us that most of the time, the thieves would pick houses with no alarms because it was so much easier. So they would definitely look out for signs of an alarm system. Some houseowners even put up false alarm sets to trick the thieves. However, I think these days the thieves are more high tech and smart to be fooled that easily.

So a real alarm set would still be better. I guess that I should also include a smoke detector and a few good locks when upgrading and hopefully, we can also save on homeowners insurance this way as the safer a house is, the less it is to insure it. We can also sleep better at night this way.

Dad is coming towards the end of his journey now. There is no turning back. The alarm clock dial has been turned. Who knows how long that journey will be is anybody’s guess but he has started to walk the path now and so far it is a hard rocky road…. for all of us but hardest of all for dad. It is not easy to know how hard it is for him because he does not complain much, nor even moan. In great pain, all he would say is “Aiyoh, can die from this pain.”  without much moaning or groaning.

When one of the nurses said “Come on, be a man” during an extremely painful bowel movement, he said “Why don’t you try to sit here and see?” When the doctor said “You must work harder. Work hard.” he said “It is easy for you to say.” He says all this as a matter of factly without getting emotional. That is the spirit of dad.

Dad is strong, brave and his mental will is there… but will his physical body keep up? We don’t know. A stroke followed quickly by an invasive medical procudure under ga, so much bleeding in between and a few blood transfusions and then followed by a surgery under ga all in one month. How much can the body withstand? An elderly body?

The other night when dad was bleeding a lot and the nurses were in a flurry calling the emergency at night, dad asked the nurses “Do people die this way?” and “Please call the doctor quickly”. Since it was night and a public holiday, I think, it took a while and dad mumbled “Don’t worry, God will take care.” When still no doctor was in sight, dad said “God is so slow. Nevermind, if its time to go then its time to go.”

The next day,  he was back to his old self, making everyone laugh. He had to fast in case of the need for an emergency surgery which he eventually had. He was parched but he could not even have a drop of water. All he could think about was coke and ice-cream and anything else thirst quenching. When we asked him what he was thinking about, he said he was trying to decide which is better “durians or pineapples”. When we asked him which was better? He said “coconut” much to the amusement of everyone.

The nurses like him because he is very funny. When they come to change him, he was talking to them about having coke and chocolate and vanilla ice-cream.

I could kick one nurse though. She was so insensitive. We were not sure whether to tell him he had to go for another surgery but she came and said loudly “Uncle, you are going for operation now hah.” and then right in front of him she started telling me about how long the operation will take and “touch wood lah if nothing happens, you should expect to wait 2-3 hours.”

After that, dad started mumbling about wanting to eat, then sleep, then wake up to eat and sleep again and everything depends on luck. I said to him “daddy your luck is good so far” and he said “No.” Then he continued to say “Coke is the best” and I pointed to his nose and said “No, you are the best.” but even that could not bring on a smile. I have not seen him smile very much in this one month.

Dad is now recovering from a colostomy surgery. I hope that he will make good progress and be able to eat again soon. One step at a time. First, we have to stop the bleeding and get the bowels moving properly again even if it means a colostomy. Then, we get back to teaching him to swallow again (which was derailed by the impacted stools and bleeding problem), then only we get him to learn to use his limbs again. One step at a time. We dare not even think about going home yet even though dad has been at the hospital for a month now, from 2nd floor to 3rd floor to 5th floor, to 4th floor, to 6th floor moving around from ICU to normal ward, back to ICU, to normal ward to HDU (high dependancy unit), to OT back to HDU. All we can think about now is one step at a time.

Eldest sister is a bag of nervous energy. When she had to sign the consent letter for the surgery, she was shaking all over. It is certainly not easy at all. How do you sign a document that may take your father away from you? She and 2nd sister has been spending the most time with dad. There are 5 of us plus 2 sisters-in-law and a maid. We take turns making sure dad is not alone at any time so we can catch any emergency early. We have a record book so anyone who sits with dad will record any important things down and the next person continues. It is very useful indeed.

One day at a time. May we all have the strength to walk this final journey with dad one day at a time. Who knows maybe the days will turn into years. We are grateful for any time to see and touch him.

Someone said that dad is a tough cookie and one of the little ones said “He is not a cookie”. Dad is indeed a tough cookie. He never complains. He is very stoic. He takes everything in his stride. Maybe it is due to his job as a detective sargeant in CID secret society branch previously. Or it could be because , while handling  his tough job, at the same time, he was a single dad to 5 kids after mum died almost 35 years ago from now. Dad was 44 then, my age now. Then, he instantly became a single dad to 5 of us from ages 10 to 18 but he never complained. I think if I were to instantly become a single parent to 5 kids at my age, I would have been overcome with stress.

He is still not complaining. Even though he is bed ridden, half paralysed, unable to swallow foods and relies on a feeding tube for sustenance. He was also in great pain because he had impacted stools due to constipation from lack of movement and an overload of medications perhaps. He had to be back in ICU and had to undergo a procedure to remove the stools manually under general anaesthesia. There was a 30% chance he could die from the procedure but if he did not go through it, he would die. Not much of a choice is there. The anaesthetician said it was his 3rd time in 20 years to do this for this procedure and worse, for an old man just recovering from stroke was very rare indeed. Possible complications are he could have another stroke or a heart attack during the procedure.

Tough cookie that he is, he is back in the normal ward now. The nurses like him. He is a model patient doing everything that he is told without a whine or complaint. When they came to pour milk into the tubes for him, he told them he wanted teh tarik. Poor dad. He wants so much to taste normal food again. He talks about nescafe panas, karipap, ham chin peng, durian, mango, sugar cane juice but we are thankful that he is now only able to sip water mixed with edible starch and a little bit of porridge under close supervision. Before that even water was denied him and he complaint of great thirst. Milk is poured into tubes that goes into his nostrils right to his stomach. He does not get to taste it. Imagine wanting to eat but being unable to, wanting to get up but being unable to. What must he be thinking… feeling. Sometimes we don’t know because dad has dementia to add to his woes.

What worries us the most is his sleep wake pattern. He would sleep for 2 minutes, wake up for 3 minutes and repeat this pattern for 24 hours a day. Even the doctor is perplexed. He has not seen such a short cycle before. Sometimes during his 3 minutes of wakefullness, he would mumble to himself. One night that frightened the nurse in the night shift because she thought he was talking to someone behind her but there was no one there. But that is only because of his dementia.

He still does have his moments of sharp alertness at times. Like the time the nurse kept on asking him for her name. “What is my name? Don’t you remember? I just told you this morning? What is my name? What is my name?” and then he looked at her and said “What your name is, is not important to me.” At our prompting the nurse asked him, “So what is important to you?” and he said “Recover faster.” How very like our old dad that is. Sometimes a bit sarcastic and very straight to the point without giving face. But we are delighted to catch a glimpse of that.

And so we go on with our ups and downs. Can we all be tough cookies like dad and not be crumbly cookies because the situation calls for us all to be tough. There is much to do and no time to crumble.

We are but mere mortals who feel pain and suffering. We are but mere mortals who have physical limitations. We have a shelf life. We have an expiry date. Just like anything else with a shelf life, when its old, it starts to turn bad. It starts to deteriorate. It is not as good as new. Nothing you can do could make it new again.

Yes, we are but mere mortals. We can only hope that love can make a small difference. A very small difference. Though it may sound romantic and fantastic, it does not help very much. Even if we have love, it does not make the pain any less. The pain is physical. We feel it. We feel it much more than we feel the love. Love does not make the suffering go away. It does not make it any less.

Even if we have love. We do not have the other things that will make it easier.

We want to give love but we are held back by our own limitations of health, time and money. We do not have the money to make things better, more comfortable. Those too are our limitations. These are material things. They really shouldn’t matter… but they do. They do.

We are but mere mortals.

To add to his woes, dad is now having chronic constipation and his stools are impacted.
Fecal impaction is a serious complication of constipation in which the stool hardens and can no longer be eliminated with normal bowel movements.

This condition is causing him a lot of pain both physically and perhaps mentally too. It may be a blessing in disguise that his dementia protects him somewhat from the indignity of having several females hovering over and fussing over you each time you need to defecate. (which is up to 8-10 times a day during the previous 10 days). However, he did sigh at one time and said “Haiyah! Need 10 people just to poo.” Something to that effect. He also said “tuhan tolong buatkan kurang sakit.” (God please make it less painful).

Despite his dementia, dad switches between Hokkien, Mandarin, English and Malay easily depending on who he is speaking to. He even spoke in Indian to one of the Indian nurses causing the nurses to break into laughter.

I hope that you are listening God. Please make it less painful for dad. Please give him back his swallowing ability so he can drink more water. Please give him back the use of his limbs so he can move around and prevent more constipation. Thank you.