Credits: VaggelisFragiadakis I have a two-week break before I start in my new job so I decided to make a trip down during one of the weekdays to visit my uncle. He is diagnosed with stage 4 brain cancer and left only a couple of months.
When I first saw him, he was frail looking but very bloated. He gained a lot of weight during his chemotherapy. He was always hungry. Always eating. His mood also changed. When the nurse came in to clean his face while he was sleeping, he roared. He wanted his desserts instantly when I was busy trying to fit into the gloves and this plastic apron to be wrapped over my body to reduce contamination and infection.
I was fearful a little initially. But I was mentally prepared because his family, my aunt specifically, told us that he was scolding the whole family very bitterly throughout the cab ride. Even the cab driver said he was amazed at the tolerance level of his family for putting up with his temper.
Illness can really change a person – physically, mentally and emotionally.
My uncle is not his usual self. He cannot speak properly. He gets into a temper quickly. And he demands things instantly, like a child. It is pretty accurate to say that our life is really like a circle. We came into this world as a baby, innocent and vulnerable, and wanting to have instant gratifications. It is only through learning that we learnt to share, to be patient and when to give it up.
A thought that came to my mind was the same that I had when I was in Scotland – we do NOT that much of a time. If we want to ever do something, leave our mark behind on this earth, we got to do it now. And most importantly, we need to learn to give it up slowly on what we are attached to in this world.
I do not think that people can understand why I am contented with a 2-room flat. I want to be debt free as much as possible. A home that is comfortable for one person to live in is good enough for me. If I want to retire, I would consider somewhere cheaper to go to. I need to make sure I must do something good while I can, for the next 35 years, which may NOT be 35 years. It can be less. I just pray that when I am ailing, I do not lose my memory, my temper and can be peaceful with myself by then, gently taking the most painless way to leave this world.
When I first saw him, he was frail looking but very bloated. He gained a lot of weight during his chemotherapy. He was always hungry. Always eating. His mood also changed. When the nurse came in to clean his face while he was sleeping, he roared. He wanted his desserts instantly when I was busy trying to fit into the gloves and this plastic apron to be wrapped over my body to reduce contamination and infection.
I was fearful a little initially. But I was mentally prepared because his family, my aunt specifically, told us that he was scolding the whole family very bitterly throughout the cab ride. Even the cab driver said he was amazed at the tolerance level of his family for putting up with his temper.
Illness can really change a person – physically, mentally and emotionally.
My uncle is not his usual self. He cannot speak properly. He gets into a temper quickly. And he demands things instantly, like a child. It is pretty accurate to say that our life is really like a circle. We came into this world as a baby, innocent and vulnerable, and wanting to have instant gratifications. It is only through learning that we learnt to share, to be patient and when to give it up.
A thought that came to my mind was the same that I had when I was in Scotland – we do NOT that much of a time. If we want to ever do something, leave our mark behind on this earth, we got to do it now. And most importantly, we need to learn to give it up slowly on what we are attached to in this world.
I do not think that people can understand why I am contented with a 2-room flat. I want to be debt free as much as possible. A home that is comfortable for one person to live in is good enough for me. If I want to retire, I would consider somewhere cheaper to go to. I need to make sure I must do something good while I can, for the next 35 years, which may NOT be 35 years. It can be less. I just pray that when I am ailing, I do not lose my memory, my temper and can be peaceful with myself by then, gently taking the most painless way to leave this world.
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