I don’t care what people think of me with a post like this. Who cares lah, it is my life. I might as well jot this down and look back one day.

So here goes…

5.30 am – Azan subuh bergema. I woke up with a jolt. Went to sleep at 3 am. Then, I remembered that I was suppose to put the red beans in the slow cooker to boil overnight so that we can bring it to the hospital during the day.

5.45 am – Wattaheck, I won’t die with two and half hours sleep, will I? So, I crawled to the kitchen to wash the red beans and put it into the slow cooker. Didn’t even wear a spec so I am not sure if I had cooked some beetles as well. If I use hot boiling water, it will cook faster. So, I boiled 1 litre of hot water and stood there at the sink, waiting for the water to boil. Told myself I must be obsessed to go to this length for someone that really I do not care much. (not in a family or even brotherly kind of way) Or maybe I am possessed. Wateva. I have never done anything like this for my own sibling. Why do I do it for some in-law then? Maybe it is the Chinese thing, that a woman has more responsibilities towards the husband’s side? Then I think again, CHOY CHOY CHOY touch wood, I don’t ever want anything like this to happen to any of my own brothers and sisters. Because then, it will be even more killing as feelings are involved.

6.20 am – I am wide awake. There is mass at 7 am. It is the school holidays so there is no traffic. Prodded hubby and told him I am going to church. Hallelujah, Jesus, don’t be surprised to see me so early in the morning.

7 am – Father FA today talked about ‘why do we pray?’ (which also means why do we do good?). In the Gospel of Matthew, there is this young man who asked Jesus, ‘What do I need to do to get to heaven?’. And I asked myself, hey, why do I do all these? To get to heaven? Nope, certainly not. As far as I am concerned, my ticket is booked because my son is waiting for me there. To get people to say I am the bestest sis-out-law in the world? Definitely not. My eldest sis-in-law did phone me the other day, to chat a bit and to thank me for what I did for her youngest sis. I told her there is no need for thanks because I memang have time to do all these. Eldest sis-in-law is the only sis-in-law who can accepts that I am a Christian and she often praises Christians for their kind hearted works. She knew because I had gone out of my way to be with her own family during some grief. In fact, I was the only one who was there during Chinese New Year when they mourned as none of her own 3 sisters dare to go to a mourning family during CNY. So, why do I pray? I guess it is expected from me. Christ would want me to do that. I walked out of church, feeling smug, somewhat. I pray because I just feel like doing it. There is no udang di sebalik batu.

Before I receive the Body of Christ, I prayed “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the Word and I shall be healed.” and I hope You will also heal him and him and all who are in need of healings.

7.40 am – Got home and went back to sleep.

11 am – Woke up, panic. Late already! Must thaw pork, must thaw fish, must cook. But before that, I had one heck of another nightmare. I dreamt I was in church and there was this huge mass with lots of angmohs. I am on lector’s duty. But at the last minute, the church clerk told me they had changed the reading to something with Australian slang. Chisin mia kind of dream. Panic, I cannot pronounce some aborigine language. Duh, whoever dreams in such details? The writings all like taugehs. Thank God my real duty is not until the following week or else I sure p-i-m-p with nightmare like this.

12 noon – Food and red bean soup ready for delivery.

1 pm – Went to some office for some business stuffs. Things are looking good, that’s for sure.

2 pm – Shoppping. Bought two pairs of shoes, one blouse and one pants. Now, whatever happened from 5.45 am to 12 noon have been deleted. All forgotten. Bought a Balenciaga shoes that costs RM289 (less 70% – 10% lah, you think I print money ah?) and an orange blouse that will make me a member of Hindraf. Got Hindraf march, just call me. I got uniform already. Bought it because I look soooo fair in it.

4 pm – Driving home and I go ‘Faster, must cook dinner for hospital already!” My son said, “Aiyah, ma, you so peik cheik with all the schedule, might as well tell them you don’t want to do already lah.” I told him, “Cannot……they have no other option, the wife is in the hospital all day, who else has the time? So, do a bit and charn (whine) a lot never mind wan.”

5 pm – Dinner for ready for delivery. Hand picked tiger fish flesh. Bah, as if a fish name tiger fish can bite away the cancer, doh. But it is specially ordered from the fisherman so I kwai-kwai pick the flesh from the bones. Grumbled. I jaga anak also no need so yimchin. But rewind and remind myself, someone has to do it, so let it be me because there really is no one else.

Start another new day, another new rant. Life goes on and at least I am thankful he can still eats and I had secretly increase his portion from two tablespoons of alphabet pasta to three. I cheated with two drops of olive oil, dash of pepper and two drops of soya sauce or the fish totally taste bland. With all the drugs they are pumping in, what’s a little soy sauce, pepper and olive oil, huh?

29th May – That’s when the son will return with his girlfriend. Good Lord, give them strength to face the shock because I know it will kill me if it is me in their shoes, as the father who felt so helpless now or the son who must be so sad to see a father reduced to bones and lots of tubes, including a big pail of bloodied urine. It is not a bag but a plastic pail like the one you are washing clothes with.

Now, I feel better. Thank you for reading. And understanding why I need to write all these down. Or else I will need to spend even more buying more shoes and clothes and bags that I don’t need.