Warm wishes

Needless to say, the following few days were torturing because of the unbearable pain.  But the pain was somehow paled by the well wishes that poured in and visits of family, friends, bosses, business associates and colleagues.

Strangely, the memories of those few days were vague – as if pieces of a jigsaw puzzle thrown here and there.  I suppose it was due to the effects of the strong medication and painkillers.  What were clear though, were the feelings – feelings that were nevertheless warm, touching and overwhelming.

Many people whom I did not expect to see at the hospital did take the trouble to visit me.  Apart from my immediate family members, they included:-

1.	Dato’ Quah	10.	Ms S.L. Yeoh
2.	Dato’ Ng’s wife	11.	Ms Sharon Lim
3.	Cik Rozita	12.	Ms Kheng
4.	Mr C.K. Lee	13.	Ms Hui Meng
5.	Mr R. Thean	14.	Hubby’s cousin and wife
6.	Mr Seah	15.	Ms Lily Chia
7.	Pastor Anne	16.	Ms Joyce Ho
8.	Mr Sandra Kumar	17.	Ms Jessica Sum
9.	Ms Karen Lim	18.	Ms Stacey Tan (even though could not visit me due to health problems, sent a big fruits basket)

Among them, there were those who were extremely busy businessmen/businesswomen, daughter of an ex-MB, company directors and business associates.  Flowers, fruits and gifts including health supplements poured in overwhelmingly.  One of the sweetest gifts though, was a self-wrapped fruits basket from my despatch clerk, Vina.

There were also a couple of them who visited in total more than three times during my stay in the hospital.

A sweet couple Allan Koh and Christina Teh sent their well wishes all the way from Melbourne on my surgery day; not to mention concerned sms’s from my dearest niece Carven from Perth and nephew Ivan from Melbourne too.

And somewhere in Leipzig, Germany, a small candle was lit in a church for my speedy recovery.  “Little yet strong” were the words my dear German friend Alexander described the candle light.  “Please tell me your news everyday, because no distance will change that you and your family is in my mind and my heart” was the message he sent through Facebook.  How heartwarmingly amazing!!

I was indeed made speechless by all the prayers, well wishes and kind thoughts from all these people who cared for me.

Post Surgery

4 March 2012, Sunday

The pains were still very intense, as if a knife was cutting through my abdomen.  I could hardly move my body.  Glucose, salt water and painkiller including morphine went through the intravenous lines on both my hands and neck.  Oh yes, not to mention the uncomfortable oxygen tubes poking through my nostrils.  Unbelievable.

Though looked tired, hubby had been there all the time tending to my personal needs.  My big brother came with wife and son… and a pot of delicious pumpkin porridge, which I really appreciated.  As I could not move much, hubby fed me.

Then my dearest Iain visited.  Sitting by my side and rubbing my hand, he asked, “Are you ok, Mie?  Love you.”  That really warmed my heart.

The evening ended with mom, sisters and brothers-in-law coming to see me again.  Before I even realized, the room was already filled with lovely bouquets and gifts from family and friends.

I'm alive!!

3 March 2012, Saturday, 6.00 p.m. - I'm Alive!!

When I opened my eyes, sharp pains were all over my abdomen.  And I shouted, “pain, pain!”  Vividly, I remembered the pain was so unbearable that I held on to the side railing of my bed, and passed out.

Time passed.  When I next opened my eyes, I was still holding on to the railing.  The clock hanging in the room pointed at 6.00 p.m.  My beloved hubby was beside me, holding me.  “Oh, I’m alive,” was the first thought that came to me.  Then blank I went again.  The next thing I knew, my mom, sisters and brothers-in-law were all sitting in front of my bed, looking at me.  Sisters and my hubby tried to dab my lips with water because they were flaking dry…. and off I went again.

Nurses came in and out of the room to check on my blood sugar level, blood pressure, temperature and what-not every two hours the whole night.

Random thoughts before surgery

3 March 2012, Saturday, 10.45 a.m. - the last I glanced at the wall clock in the Operating Theatre.  After which, it was the beginning of a completely new chapter in my life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Since I was diagnosed with Non-Insulinoma Pancreatogenous Hypoglycaemia Syndrome (“NIPHS”) in March last year, my life had been nothing but frustrations, hopelessness and disappointments.  All the specialists I consulted gave the similar lines, “well, it’s a rare condition alright.  We do not really know what to do at this moment.  The only advice we can offer is: try changing to high-fibre diet so that your blood sugar level can be kept constant.”

I was pretty excited when I found that some local reputable private hospitals’ websites had a patient-friendly feature whereby patients could drop a line or two to a specialist of the patient’s choice for query.  And so I did.  I chose a handful of specialists who were, according to the website, “highly recommended” to ask if he/she could help me with my condition.  But to my dismay, no response at all has been received - even till now.

Finally, all thanks and praises to our Almighty Father in Heaven, I was connected to a Professor in the University Malaya Specialist Centre by chance.  Initially, I really did not put much hope in him because of my experience of countless disappointments in the local specialists.  But through his enthusiastic response to my initial introductory email about my condition and his further follow-up questions with me, I knew that he IS the one – the one specialist that I have been praying for – one who would do research and studies on NIPHS, and who would try to find ways to cure it instead of saying the dumb line, “I do not know what to do, really!”  Praise the Lord!!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Pre-surgery - morning

3 March 2012, Saturday, 8.00 a.m.

A nurse helped me wear the custom-made contraction stockings to ease blood circulation due to the scaring, long-hours surgery to be performed on me.

My heart was pounding extremely fast - worrying about the possible outcome of the surgery and fearing for the worst.

Two nurses came to bring me to the Operating Theatre.  To me, they were like demons from Hell, dragging me to where I didn’t want to go.  Hubby was not here yet.

At this very point, my eldest sis showed up behind the long curtain with the brightest smile I have ever seen in my life, bringing me hope and comfort.  This was one very moment that stayed ever so clearly in my mind and that I would definitely bring along with me if I died.  And then followed my mom and the other sister, too.  They accompanied me all the way while the double-horn “devils” pushed me to the Operating Theatre.

As only two family members were allowed to go in to the waiting area of the Operating Theatre at one time, my sisters and mom took turns to come in to accompany me.  For all my life, I could not find another moment that could express or describe the love we shared in a family other than this very morning.  After awhile, my dearest hubby arrived.

Gift of Love

17 November 2011

I have been living half a life since I was diagnosed with this rare medical condition called Non-Insulinoma Pancreatogenous Hypoglycaemic Syndrome (“NIPHS”). 

The tests after tests, the merry-go-round of doctor-visits, the frustrating waits, the physical and emotional drainage, the unanswered cries, the disappointments, the helplessness… I’m so done with it, so done with it.

This morning - another ordinary morning, I sent Iain to school.  I updated him on the latest developments of my quest in seeking help from doctors.  I have always talked to him like an adult, without holding back information, because he understands.  But, unexpectedly, this ordinary morning turned out to be extraordinary.

I told him about the exorbitant cost if I were to have my surgery performed in Singapore, the alternate options I had been searching locally, the frustrations I had been through in my futile attempts to contact the local specialists, and how I felt about the whole thing.  He asked, “Why don’t you go for the healing session at Dr John’s church?”  Dr John is our family doctor turned friend.  I was silent.  I could not give him an answer.

“I’ll go with you,” he insisted.

“Let me think about it,” was my reply.  I sank back into my thoughts.

After a brief moment of silence, he said, “you know, Mie (Mommy), maybe God is trying to heal you, but you refuse to let Him in.”  I was definitely taken aback by his astounding statement.  But I did not respond.

As I drove along, I did not realize Iain was weeping quietly until I stopped at a junction.  Seeing that, my eyes instantly welled up with tears.  I held his hand tightly and said, “Don’t worry, God is watching over us, right?”  He broke into tears uncontrollably.  It broke my heart to see him so sad.  I tried really hard to fight back my tears.

“I’ll call Dr John.  You’ll go with me, right?”  He kept nodding.

Yes, I will try the healing session, for Iain.  Of course, he does not and will never know why I resisted going.  Just like what Dr John said, “it’s free!  God is the Healer.  God is almighty!”  But deep in me, I feel guilty.  I have not been faithful in going to church, I have not been committed at all.  I do not deserve His love, His healing.  The guilt is so intense that I cannot possibly bring myself to accept His unconditional love.  I cannot face Him.  I do pray and talk to Him, but to accept His healing?  I really do not deserve that.  Forgive me, O Lord!

But yes, I will go.  For Iain.  I do not want to break his heart.  He loves me, I know.  He has always been the reason I moved on with life… my bitter divorce, followed by challenging financial problems, and compounded by jobless months… Just when I was so devastated with life, he came to me and reminded, “don’t worry, Mommy, God has better plans for us – plans to prosper us and not to harm us.”  “Really?” I asked in tears.  “Yes, Mie.  I show you the verse…”

I have to record this episode even though it is very tiring for me to write instead of resting at my leisure time, simply because it is one of those special moments in life that I treasure.  I want Iain to know I treasure him.  I want him to read this after my passing.  I know this day will come, as my condition has deteriorated lately.

If I ever leave this world, remember this: I love you, Iain.  I love you.

Desperation

Phew... it's been so long since I last updated my blog.  I think it's about time now for me to complete it once and for all.

The Professor in the neighbour country was very professional indeed.  He spent about an hour looking through my angiography reports and films, and explaining to Hubby, me and nephew (who is a registered nurse there and spent time accompanying us) about the condition and the possible procedures he would be performing on me if I chose to do it.

I really appreciate the Prof's patience and professionalism.  He gave me a 2-year open appointment, so that I could arrange to visit him again if I needed to in 2 years time.  Even though the trip drained almost all of my energy out, it was worth the visit.  At least I now know what to do exactly.  And at least I have someone to turn to should I need to go through the distal pancreatectomy.

I had been keeping in touch with the Prof while I tried looking for a specialist in my own country to perform the surgery.  Well, it is simply because (1) the cost back home is much lower after considering the exchange rate; and (2) if I were to do it there, I could not expect my hubby to take leave from work for such a long period just to take care of me in a foreign country.

And there I went, searching for specialists from all local hospitals, sending emails to selected ones who were "highly-recommended" as claimed in the hospitals' websites.  And guess what?  No response at all!!  What a shame!!