I'm sitting here feeling a little numb, considering the amount of pain I've been in since being woken up by the left ovary at 5am. The past week has been really trying for most Singaporeans, but I didn't allow myself time to get too caught up as Ahma had been feeling unwell since last 21st March, which was the day after her 87th birthday. She was admitted to TTSH last Thursday, for a myocardial infarction aka heart attack, which wasn't what her major complaint was about, it was a severe back pain that was troubling her.
Since her admission, it was discovered that she had suffered perhaps a few minor heart attacks, a fractured spine, a urinary tract infection, and deteriorating kidney function issues. Now, for a spritely old lady of 87, who was, up till last weekend, ambulant, fiercely independent, and honestly, too feisty to handle at times, this must have been quite a tough blow. She now is dependent on nurses for her care, and although I have tried to pay her daily visits, my own condition has worsened and I haven't been able to see her since yesterday.
Dad, Aunt and youngest brother are taking over the visits, and it would seem that given her complications, although she isn't on her death bed *touch wood* she's ....definitely taken a turn for the worse. I guess I'm sitting down here steeped in guilt for not being able to help, because frankly, my major concern is whether I should take another dosage of painkillers. Being in constant, unabating pain means I have become less empathetic towards others. I guess it is what it is.
I don't think anybody in my family is prepared for this. I have never had anyone close to me pass away, or suffer for an extended period of time. Dad is so misguided it's almost funny, well, not to make light of the situation, but it's either laugh, or cry. Even Eva has refused to eat her food since Ahma has been admitted, so I've had to handfeed her. Maybe she just feels neglected, what with us taking turns to keep Ahma company. Or maybe, she really does miss Ahma's constant presence.
Me, I've kept busy, making printables, taking photos, making new stuff. It helps distract from the physical pain, and although I have only suffered 2 panic attacks (and quite a number of nightmares) since Thursday, I can tell that I'm not handling things well. My hands shake quite badly, hence my lack of clay/miniature making.
I've delayed writing about this, because I dared not allow myself to feel, and I've allowed myself a few tears reading LKY's family tributes, especially those relating stories of his relationship with his wife, I think those tears are really projected ones from my true fears.
Am not ready to go there yet. Perhaps there is no need. Perhaps. *heavy sigh* Let's hope Ahma gets better soon, the house feels so quiet without her.
Listening to: Doctors on the phone
Reading: stupid crap on my FB wall
Eating: when I remember to
Drinking: plain water