Bad news...

My grandma (my mom’s mom that is) just passed away this afternoon from multiple organ failure and heart collapse. Still in the stage of shock/ disbelief actually, even though I’m not close to her at all. I visit her at most three times a year (once in CNY, another during her annual birthday dinner and every once in a blue moon in the hospital). I feel sad… not sad for myself but for her. ‘Coz she died in pain with all those tubes around her, on a hospital bed with most of the grandkids not around to accompany her through her last breath (including me).

She was admitted to the hospital on previous Sunday actually and Uncle Richard informed us only on Thursday night – when he felt that her condition was critical and just needed her to see all of us at least one last time. I don’t blame him actually. Rather, I find it very hard to stomach on how much pain and financial burden he had to take into his own hands all these while. It was only yesterday (Sunday) that I finally managed to go see her. And it was only then that we knew (only Uncle Richard and my other two aunties knew of it) that gramz had liver cancer before. And that her heart condition had deteriorated greatly over the past few months.

The last time I saw her was during CNY in Feb. She was still looking plump with her bountiful curly hair and usual make-up. But when I saw her on Sunday, I was stumped. That wasn’t the same gramz I knew all this while. Though they told me that her liver, heart and kidney weren’t functioning properly just before I entered the ward, it still didn’t prepare me for what I saw. She was all bones and skinner than me. Her right hand was swollen from multiple injections. Her left arm was covered with bruises and lumps because of the ongoing blood tests and etc over the past few days. Her once bountiful hair was gone. All that was left was scattered lumps of what looked like burnt weed patches. Her face was so withdrawn, haggard and gaunt that I couldn’t believe that she’s gramz. She hadn’t eaten any food or drank a sip of water for three full days. The doctors didn’t allow it coz her organs aren’t functioning properly enough to support the necessary digestive process and she still needed to undergo other tests as well.

Tubes were all round and inside of her. She had one to help her breathe, another to check her heart, another for her kidney and another for her liver. She constantly coughed to get her phlegm out, but to no avail. Her eyes looked so distant that I couldn’t figure out if she was depressed, resigned or… I guess I’ll never know.

My brother messaged me around 12 noon today to say that she’s in critical condition and could not last much longer. By the time I settled my stuff and about to rush to the hospital (about half hour), I received another message – she’s gone. For a while, I felt lost as I sat at my desk and try to come to terms with the news. In my heart, I knew she couldn’t last through these few days… but it still hit me quite hard to learn that it’s true.

I had messaged my boss slightly earlier to say that I was leaving for the hospital. When he saw me around after his lunch break, he asked if I was ok. I couldn’t help it. I just started weeping. After a while, via MSN, he said to me that if there’s anything, he can always spare some time to talk with me. Then I told him that it was ok, just that my gramz just passed away. The next thing he did was to chase me home. It took another 3 hours or so to clear my stuff (though he insisted that I just leave it and pass them on to others) before I head home, ate my lunch (around 5 plus), changed my clothes and head down to the wake.

My distant cousins were there. None of them cried then. I guessed everyone’s holding back. We cracked stupid jokes, talked about cats and mobile phones. For your information, I was hardly close to them either. The most that I spoke to them was like 10 sentences each per year??? I don’t even know their names and I always mixed up how to address my uncles and aunties. None of us spoke about what happened. We just concentrated on other stuff.

My mom’s still holding back I think. She didn’t shed a tear. Sometimes I wished I could be like my mom. I’ve only seen her cry twice in my lifetime. Whereas I cry easily (even if it was meant to be sarcastic joke or when I’m just plain annoyed with something or someone). I don’t know how it’ll be during the procession on Friday morning to the crematorium… I hadn’t looked into the coffin yet… I don’t think I can bear it. But I hope that I won’t turn into a tear generating machine on Friday. I’m already weeping as I’m typing this, so let’s see what’s gonna happen.

I felt even worse when I studied my parents at the wake… that instant, they seemed to have aged so much without me noticing. My mom’s hair’s turning white/grey and my father had lost quite a bit of hair. It just brought me back to reality somehow. Someday we’re all gonna die, whether you like it or not. I just hope that mine would be a peaceful affair with my loved ones around, and not on a cold hospital bed with tubes around me.