I know not, how to express my sorrow, how to express my emotions. I have no photos, no videos to show of, only words. But I guess they should suffice.
I witnessed the passing of my aunt years ago.
The night before the doctors told us to gather, I sent out messages to my mum, to aunts, that, that aunt wasn't going to make it. I don't know how, but I simply knew.
Later that morning, the doctors affirmed my beliefs, and called for the family. So the family gathered.
Death was a stranger to us then. We were there, gathered round, thinking that there might be a miracle. Well, she passed on, we were hysterical and so was her mother (my grandmother). And I thought, no parent should ever bury their child and yet, this has befallen.
She was 41.
---
A year later my grandmother was down with what seemed to be skin rashes. It got worse and worse over six months and it was decided that she was to be warded for investigations. I remember going down every now and then to visit her after work or for that matter, before work. (You see, working shifts has its perks this way.) Grandma was loved, and was loved by a big family - you can be sure that someone would be visiting her everyday, and we did.
Time went by and I discovered that the doctors were as helpless as we were - we were losing grandma day by day. It was painfully slow; muscle wastage, liquid diet, the frequent shifts from ICU to CCU and back to the normal ward and back up again. (By the way, my most dreaded procedure was performed on her - tracheostomy.)
Grandma was discharged finally. Came back home after a year long battle.
Days later I was having breakfast with my dad at the Ghim Moh temporary food centre. He was eating teochew porridge, steam fished, pickled vegetables and something - I forgot what I had, but I remembered that my cousins messaged me, 'grandma has passed away'. I fought, and swallowed my tears. I wanted to let my dad finish his food. He was talking to me about sundry topics. Words came. Words went. He was done. "Do you want to dapao anything?" "Nope."
So we went to the car, sat down, shut the doors. I inserted the key but did not start the engine. I turned to him and said, "Ah ma has passed away." He looked down, tears welling up and said, "Aiyo, it's so sayang. Didn't manage to visit her when she came back home." "I know, I know," I said.
Much later at the wake I was looking at documents. I saw the envelope containing the doctor's memo that they brought to hospital when they rushed her down. I did not open it. Printed in bold on the envelope was - DNR
My grandma was 72.
---
Last year, I came home after work to see the master bedroom door closed, the windows closed, with the fan off. My mum told me that my dad was having his usual - he had a cold. That wasn't uncommon, and so I gave not much thought to it.
Two days later when I came home after work and it was the same. It suddenly dawned on me that he might be having fever. Most people are unable to differentiate fever and chills so they put on their blanket. I saw that he was awake (at midnight) and so I whipped out the thermometer and took his temperature. He was indeed running a fever. I gave him paracetamol, forbade him from using his comforters and turned on fans. His temperature came down the next morning. He went on about his daily routine and was even taking showers. I was very pleased and thought everything was fine and dandy.
He was pleased too, I suppose, because he went out to have coffee with his friends that next day (Friday). I went to fetch him, and he was running a fever again. Damnit I thought. Alright, sponge, paracetamol, rest. I asked if he wanted to see the doctor and he said that he just needed some rest. Fine, I thought. Anyhow, I went to a nearby clinic the next morning and took a queue number for him - I got queue no. 1. When the doctor came, I asked if he needed help to walk, he said no, and he walked into the consultation room by himself. We were soon sent on our ways with medicine in hand, having foot the bill.
I made sure that my dad took his meds and asked my mum to make him a meal (for the after-meal-meds). Seeing my dad was very weak, I asked my mum to feed him, which, she, unexpectedly complied. After perhaps half an hour, my dad was left on his own to eat and I noticed him not swallowing his food. His mouth were moving but he wasn't swallowing. There was food, mashed but still in his mouth. I talked to him and he didn't seem able to process anything. It was then then I asked him if he was willing to go to the hospital. He hated hospitals, but then he agreed. I rang up my uncle and my cousin for some heavy-lifting help after I called for the non-emergency ambulance - the non-emergency number seemed very inefficient, and so I cancelled their service. I chose 995 eventually.
My (3) uncle reached ahead of the ambulance but he went for the toilet. I saw the ambulance from the window and I told my dad to hang in there - he was in a daze. The house gates were already opened for the paramedics and just before the four of them stepped into the room, my dad slumped into his bed. My dad clutched me and his other hand reached up, fingers outstretched. My uncle told me that, "He wants to tell you something." I leaned in, but heard nothing.
Thereafter it was the usual - taking blood sugar, pressure, rubbing the sternum, attempting to talk to my dad. Minutes later, the staff sgt initiated CPR. They hauled my dad to the ambulance and from there, a mechanical machine took over the compressions.
It was my first time sitting in an ambulance.
That afternoon I was due for work to cover duties, and I took compasssionate leave.
I love you dad. I still miss you.
---
My maternal grandma wasn't the most adorable grandma. She was sulky, pissy, and hated almost everyone. She lived alone and disliked visitors. She loved alcohol though.
There was this day when my mum visited her and found her slumped on the toilet bowl, breathing. So she was brought to the hospital and it turned out to be a case of malnutrition. She was warded, but she broke her hips because she tried to get a drink and fell. Long story short, arrangement was made for one of the 3 sisters to visit grandma daily and to have a domestic helper stay with her.
Years later, dementia caught on. This was a blessing. Grandma became more and more adorable. She would remember me as the grandson who brings her alcohol. I would visit her every now and then to supply her with groceries, diapers, medicines, food and also repair things in the house.
One day my mum told me that they were having problems with the telephone. I went to diagnose it and it needed replacing. I decided to buy the landline phone from qoo10. And for some fucking reason I had a bad feeling that she would never get to use the phone. The phone came days later, and I went up to install it. When I was up, I saw grandma's teeth chattering - she didn't look good and I recognised that look. Grandma was able to talk to me and to say goodbye to me but she didn't look good. I told my mum and my aunt (the younger sister) about it. They decided to call on the in-house doctor instead. The doctor was only available days later. The next day, the elder sister went to visit and said her mother looked the same. However, it was so apparent that the maid decided to call on the other sisters instead. I was consulted and I decided that 995 should be the way to go. The ambulance came and the elder sister suggested that the maid should accompany the mum instead. I was on the way to fetch the younger sister and was horrified to hear of that. I was horrified. But not surprised.
Four days later, grandma passed away.
I witnessed the passing of my aunt years ago.
The night before the doctors told us to gather, I sent out messages to my mum, to aunts, that, that aunt wasn't going to make it. I don't know how, but I simply knew.
Later that morning, the doctors affirmed my beliefs, and called for the family. So the family gathered.
Death was a stranger to us then. We were there, gathered round, thinking that there might be a miracle. Well, she passed on, we were hysterical and so was her mother (my grandmother). And I thought, no parent should ever bury their child and yet, this has befallen.
She was 41.
---
A year later my grandmother was down with what seemed to be skin rashes. It got worse and worse over six months and it was decided that she was to be warded for investigations. I remember going down every now and then to visit her after work or for that matter, before work. (You see, working shifts has its perks this way.) Grandma was loved, and was loved by a big family - you can be sure that someone would be visiting her everyday, and we did.
Time went by and I discovered that the doctors were as helpless as we were - we were losing grandma day by day. It was painfully slow; muscle wastage, liquid diet, the frequent shifts from ICU to CCU and back to the normal ward and back up again. (By the way, my most dreaded procedure was performed on her - tracheostomy.)
Grandma was discharged finally. Came back home after a year long battle.
Days later I was having breakfast with my dad at the Ghim Moh temporary food centre. He was eating teochew porridge, steam fished, pickled vegetables and something - I forgot what I had, but I remembered that my cousins messaged me, 'grandma has passed away'. I fought, and swallowed my tears. I wanted to let my dad finish his food. He was talking to me about sundry topics. Words came. Words went. He was done. "Do you want to dapao anything?" "Nope."
So we went to the car, sat down, shut the doors. I inserted the key but did not start the engine. I turned to him and said, "Ah ma has passed away." He looked down, tears welling up and said, "Aiyo, it's so sayang. Didn't manage to visit her when she came back home." "I know, I know," I said.
Much later at the wake I was looking at documents. I saw the envelope containing the doctor's memo that they brought to hospital when they rushed her down. I did not open it. Printed in bold on the envelope was - DNR
My grandma was 72.
---
Last year, I came home after work to see the master bedroom door closed, the windows closed, with the fan off. My mum told me that my dad was having his usual - he had a cold. That wasn't uncommon, and so I gave not much thought to it.
Two days later when I came home after work and it was the same. It suddenly dawned on me that he might be having fever. Most people are unable to differentiate fever and chills so they put on their blanket. I saw that he was awake (at midnight) and so I whipped out the thermometer and took his temperature. He was indeed running a fever. I gave him paracetamol, forbade him from using his comforters and turned on fans. His temperature came down the next morning. He went on about his daily routine and was even taking showers. I was very pleased and thought everything was fine and dandy.
He was pleased too, I suppose, because he went out to have coffee with his friends that next day (Friday). I went to fetch him, and he was running a fever again. Damnit I thought. Alright, sponge, paracetamol, rest. I asked if he wanted to see the doctor and he said that he just needed some rest. Fine, I thought. Anyhow, I went to a nearby clinic the next morning and took a queue number for him - I got queue no. 1. When the doctor came, I asked if he needed help to walk, he said no, and he walked into the consultation room by himself. We were soon sent on our ways with medicine in hand, having foot the bill.
I made sure that my dad took his meds and asked my mum to make him a meal (for the after-meal-meds). Seeing my dad was very weak, I asked my mum to feed him, which, she, unexpectedly complied. After perhaps half an hour, my dad was left on his own to eat and I noticed him not swallowing his food. His mouth were moving but he wasn't swallowing. There was food, mashed but still in his mouth. I talked to him and he didn't seem able to process anything. It was then then I asked him if he was willing to go to the hospital. He hated hospitals, but then he agreed. I rang up my uncle and my cousin for some heavy-lifting help after I called for the non-emergency ambulance - the non-emergency number seemed very inefficient, and so I cancelled their service. I chose 995 eventually.
My (3) uncle reached ahead of the ambulance but he went for the toilet. I saw the ambulance from the window and I told my dad to hang in there - he was in a daze. The house gates were already opened for the paramedics and just before the four of them stepped into the room, my dad slumped into his bed. My dad clutched me and his other hand reached up, fingers outstretched. My uncle told me that, "He wants to tell you something." I leaned in, but heard nothing.
Thereafter it was the usual - taking blood sugar, pressure, rubbing the sternum, attempting to talk to my dad. Minutes later, the staff sgt initiated CPR. They hauled my dad to the ambulance and from there, a mechanical machine took over the compressions.
It was my first time sitting in an ambulance.
That afternoon I was due for work to cover duties, and I took compasssionate leave.
I love you dad. I still miss you.
---
My maternal grandma wasn't the most adorable grandma. She was sulky, pissy, and hated almost everyone. She lived alone and disliked visitors. She loved alcohol though.
There was this day when my mum visited her and found her slumped on the toilet bowl, breathing. So she was brought to the hospital and it turned out to be a case of malnutrition. She was warded, but she broke her hips because she tried to get a drink and fell. Long story short, arrangement was made for one of the 3 sisters to visit grandma daily and to have a domestic helper stay with her.
Years later, dementia caught on. This was a blessing. Grandma became more and more adorable. She would remember me as the grandson who brings her alcohol. I would visit her every now and then to supply her with groceries, diapers, medicines, food and also repair things in the house.
One day my mum told me that they were having problems with the telephone. I went to diagnose it and it needed replacing. I decided to buy the landline phone from qoo10. And for some fucking reason I had a bad feeling that she would never get to use the phone. The phone came days later, and I went up to install it. When I was up, I saw grandma's teeth chattering - she didn't look good and I recognised that look. Grandma was able to talk to me and to say goodbye to me but she didn't look good. I told my mum and my aunt (the younger sister) about it. They decided to call on the in-house doctor instead. The doctor was only available days later. The next day, the elder sister went to visit and said her mother looked the same. However, it was so apparent that the maid decided to call on the other sisters instead. I was consulted and I decided that 995 should be the way to go. The ambulance came and the elder sister suggested that the maid should accompany the mum instead. I was on the way to fetch the younger sister and was horrified to hear of that. I was horrified. But not surprised.
Four days later, grandma passed away.
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