The fight that every patient go through

It was never clear to me why cancer patients are fighters and courageous survivors. . After all, it is beyond anyone’s hands. Is it not all up to fate?

Christmas Eve 2013, my grandma had her forth stroke. The next day, doctor pulled my parents aside and advised if there is no improvement in the next 24-48hrs, they will give up all medications – no drips, no anti-biotic, all her usual medications will be cut off. Then, what we feared happened. My grandma’s only defence was her own immune system, and the little food she is willing to eat. There she lied fulfilling the criteria to palliative care.

They said she is in pain and there is no quality to her life. The best thing for her will be to prioritise her immediate happiness, and cut off anything that is aimed at prolonging her life.

As much as I wanted to believe she is the exception to what doctors say and that she will recover before our eyes, it does not help when she actively refuses to eat. I am witnessing her energy level ceasing by the day. Does she know? Has she given up? Has she lost the patience? Has she lost the tolerance? Does she care anymore?

Suddenly the fight becomes clear to me. We can choose to fight or let go. It takes strength to have faith in your fate, to stand up to disbelief, and to be selfless before the ones you love.

If she has given up, I do not blame her. If she has lost patience, I understand her. If she is here to serve her immediate happiness, I respect her decision.

Scar

There is an age-old-sort-of-pain living in my closet. Every now and then, certain moments of the present stimulates that particular past that it literally aches. I can feel the weight. I wonder if it is visible to anyone else.  

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“I don’t want a child like this,” that’s what he once said to me. Although I knew at the time that he did not mean it, it did not make him anymore of a responsible father than if he did mean it. It hurts to know he cared more about having the last line than how I would feel. It broke my heart to learn there is nothing set in stone in the world – no one is unconditional.

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He knew that I knew he did not mean it. He did not have to be so honest about his attitude.

I would never say that regardless. Perhaps that is how I came to value deception as much as the truth. Whether it is truth or lie, whichever one is the best for the person is right. A beautiful lie could just as well be someone's saviour.  It takes strength to hold back as oppose to spill the beans and let someone else to deal with it.

Time after time, I relate any insecurity I may have about myself or the world to that very moment.

Is it “stingy” to hold onto the moment till now? Would I have turned out differently – less reserved maybe – if he had been more of a “man” and held it back? Or is it just the perfect excuse to blame any issues I may have on?