Cherry Blossoms?

On the way back to Mum's, I passed by that place again; an orphanage nestled near the mosque within the vicinity of Old Klang Road, along Jalan Puchong. The sign reads, "Persatuan Pure Life", which translates to Pure Life Association in English. A day before, I mentioned it to Bro and Mum about the beautiful blossoms that resemble the sakura (櫻, さくら), also known as cherry blossoms. And Bro ignorantly thought they were for real.

On closer look, they are flowers of another kind. I remember a couple of years ago, Straits Times featured on this particular species of flower-bearing tree. Could not recall the name. I intend to bring Mum and Bro here to see these for themselves. One can't help but feel wonderful at such rare sight. The front office lady, Miss Devi who happened to pass by explained to me that they flower towards the end of August, every year. Some people would come with foldable chairs to sit and just enjoy their beauty.

Insulin Shots and a New Haircut

It was Mum's third appointment with Professor SP Chan. We made sure we reach UM Specialist Centre before 4PM. By then there were already quite a number of people waiting and we were the seventh on the queue. A long heavy rain followed as we waited for Professor to arrive. While at that, I took the opportunity to take some pictures of Mum, and Bro; with her new haircut which looks refreshing! It was funny seeing Bro adjusting her hair, tidying it up for the photo.

A couple of days earlier, her doctor at Wijaya International Medical Centre advised her to shave her hair or have it cut short as the radiotherapy sessions will make her scalp look patchy. Aunt Amelia wanted to bring Mum to the hair saloon but Mum wanted to keep it simple so aunt cut it for her with a pair of tailoring scissors.

It wasn't long after Professor arrived at her clinic, Mum's name was called and we hurried in, taking out Mum's blood sugar logbook to show her. Professor was not too happy with the effectiveness of Gliclazide as she's worried about the steroids Mum are taking this week and the next. To be on the safer side, she decided to get Mum on an insulin shot routine. She's to go on a shot of 18 units of NovoMix Insulin Aspart during breakfast, with an additional 4 units if her blood sugar level is above 15. And during dinner, 6 units of NovoRapid Insulin Aspart with an additional 2 units if her blood sugar level goes past 15.

Radiotherapy

Was up early this morning. Kept telling myself I have to reach Mum's place by 8.30AM that I forgotten all about breakfast. Thankfully Bro brought down some mooncakes for me. They knew I have the tendency to just forget.

It is Mum's second day of radiotherapy treatment. She is taking it well so far except for the unpleasant vomiting she had to bear with last night. On the first day, we were allowed to be in the control room with the radiologist and operators explaining to us briefly on the processes involved in Mum's treatment. They are relatively friendly and I was able to snap a picture of one CCTV screen of Mum lying down on the LINAC (Linear Accelerator) during the radiotherapy session after getting the permission from one of the operators. Unfortunately, other areas in the control room are not allowed to be on film.

Mum will be on radiotherapy from Mondays to Fridays, for five weeks. That's twenty five sessions in total before she goes for the Cyberknife boost. Her doctor calls this a conformal radiotherapy, which is most useful for treatment on tumours close to critical organs as it helps to avoid radiation damage to healthy body tissues and organs.

Motherly Doctor

"Bilik Pemeriksaan 14"
That's what the sign says in Malay for Examination Room 14. It's the very same room Professor SP Chan, Mum's endocrinologist, has been using for her consultations for as long as I remember. The first time we came while waiting to see another doctor, when I saw the same sign on door number fourteen, I thought she was a man, because her initials sounded so resolutely manly and regal to a certain extent. Even Brother thought so.

It was only a week ago, in my moment of distress worrying about Mum's diabetic condition, I called the hospital to ask for Professor. I was expecting a male voice to answer but an older woman's voice resonated on the other side of the line. I tried to set an appointment with her, and even though her schedule was already full, she decided to squeeze Mum into her timetable. I gave her an insight of Mum's condition and by then I could sense a little compassion melting down her cold, hard tone.

On Monday, we saw Professor for the first time. Concerned about Mum's diabetic condition, she instructed us in detail on what to do in order to control mum's sugar level, and warned us that steroid intake which her radiotherapist prescribed would increase her blood sugar level. She gave us a chart where we recorded Mum's sugar level over the next four days till today, Mum's second appointment with her. To normalise insulin secretion in Mum's body, Professor prescribed Gliclazide 30mg, two tablets a day, to be taken for a week. Today's appointment was arranged specifically for Mum and another patient as she doesn't see her patients on Fridays. We're grateful for that kind of diligence demonstrated by Professor.

When we came out of the room, I reiterated my question to Bro, "She's NICE, isn't she?"

"She's like a caring mother to her child!" he exclaimed.

This is the kind of doctor we need these days. Caring, loving and dedicated.

Recipe for Recovery

"Mildly sweet and nutty flavour."

That's the taste Mum has been accustomed to over the past one and a half months every single day. The recipe of the soup she has been drinking was discovered by an aunt who read in the papers about how a Taiwanese woman recovered from brain cancer after seeking alternative medicine from Japan. The woman's husband left her upon realising she has the condition. She prevailed and persevered in spite of the odds against her. She won. And I intend to use that success story of hers as an inspiration for me, for us, towards mum's recovery.

The ingredients can easily be sourced from local supermarkets. Burdock root, or gobō in Japanese [牛蒡, ごぼう], for instance, is more commonly used as a vegetable in Japan, Korea, Italy and Portugal. This crisp root has a sweet and mildly pungent taste, and the Japanese love to use it as an appetiser. That explains what Mum described. First chopped into half, from the original size it's packaged, it is soaked in a tub of water for half an hour to remove excess dirt. Then scrub it with a sponge to ensure that its skin is completely clean. The root is then further cut into between three to four inches.

The Chinese radish, or more lovingly called lobak by locals in Malaysia is a popular ingredient in Chinese soups. It's also called daikon [大根, だいこん] by the Japanese; literally mean large root, is another key ingredient in the soup Mum has to drink. Like the burdock root, it's cut into the same size together with one carrot and boiled with Shiitake mushrooms for two hours before serving. Preferably, pick the Chinese radish which still comes with its leaves and shoots, which are used in the soup as well.

Exploring Option Three

The journey to Singapore was relatively smooth. Except maybe I didn't quite have the appetite to eat anything, even though the coach steward served muffins, tuna sandwich and chocolate cake. The Filipino man sleeping across me in the lounge had his leg sticking out in my direction, not bothered with his daughter, and his wife who was seated next to me. The scenery along the way would be refreshing for city dwellers; expressway lined with rows of oil palm or rubber trees.


In less than five hours, the bus arrived at the Singapore Customs and Immigration checkpoint through the Tuas Second Link. If not for the heavy human traffic (mostly Chinese nationals), I think I would have reached the city centre sooner. Since the appointment with the neurologist at Mount E Hospital is at 12.15PM, there was still a lot of time but I tried my luck by going there earlier and see if I could fit in a preceding slot.




The wait for the neurologist took longer than I expected. At his clinic, a couple of other patients were waiting. What drew my attention were rows of awards hung on the wall and the many souvenirs he received in the course of his service. "Fancy and flashy." That came to my mind the whole time I was there. The meeting with the doctor was brief and his assistant explained to me in detail the kinds of treatment Mum should consider. They are definitely very pricey but I was gonna hold that decision until I have discussed with my relatives.


The journey home stirred a lot of thoughts in my head. I was thinking about the many questions I would have to answer back in KL. The ring tone on my phone turned soundtrack in the whole five hours I was in the bus. Thankfully, and surprisingly, First Coach buses are upgraded with a mini TV set on each seat so passengers get to enjoy movies and music by picking from the list on the panel - a private entertainment. By 9PM, the bus halted at Bangsar LRT station. And I didn't miss much of the opening ceremony of Beijing Olympics!

08.08.08: Daytrip Express

The Friday we have been waiting for finally came, oblivious to the fact that I could miss the live broadcast of the Beijing Olympics opening show at 8.30PM. It didn't matter to me as I wanted to get the decisions done with, having possible treatment options for mum laid out clearly to be considered. The night before, I called and booked a taxi, scheduled to arrive at my place at 4.45AM, just so I would reach the departure location; Côrus Hotel, Kuala Lumpur before 6AM.

The taxi driver who waited downstairs is his mid-twenties, a pleasantly friendly Indian man who chatted with me all the way to the city centre. When I needed peace and quiet, he got the idea and just concentrated on the driving. A relatively smooth ride all the way there, with hardly any traffic, left me indulging deep in my own private thoughts.

I was greeted with a yellow and grey coloured Aeroline bus when I arrived at the hotel with more than enough time to hop on the bus. Reached for the ticket to be processed by the Aeroline receptionist. It wasn't long before the passengers were told to board on the bus. I chose the seat in the lounge as I figured it'd be easier for me to get out of the bus when I arrive in Singapore. A Filipino family of three was seated next to me. I was half expecting to have the whole lounge to myself so I can rest peacefully without anyone babbling away. Fortunately, they slept all the way to border. So did I.

Option Number Three

I received an important call from Aunt Amelia at half past eleven on Tuesday night, right after mum and I came back from Singapore. She wanted to find out how it went with the two oncologists we saw in the last two days. Actually we decided to skip the appointment with a neurologist in the afternoon because everyone was already tired and mum was concerned with the costs arising from these consultations so collectively; Aunt Tua Ee, mum and I decided to forgo the appointment.

Aunt Amelia and her husband explained the necessity of seeking professional advice from a brain specialist, at least, before deciding on what to do next. It dawned on me the next day about the relevance of their advice and that it's perfectly harmless to seek for another opinion even though it will cost a bit more. I quickly made some calls to arrange for my transportation and to arrange for a 12.15PM appointment on Friday with the neurologist from Mount Elizabeth Medical Centre. The coach service that I usually take is Aeroline. To ensure that I arrive in Singapore on time, I got the 6AM coach but their SG-KL route for the afternoon have just limited seats and only the 1.30PM coach was available. 1.30PM is just too tight for the doctor's appointment so I decided to seek other options.

Called up First Coach, a coach service I used to take in the past. A male voice answered the phone. He told me 2.30PM, 4.30PM, and 6.30PM coaches are still available.

I thought to myself, "2.30PM sounds possible".

And with this arrangement, I would be able to optimise my time in Singapore and still make it back to KL early. Told the man on the phone if I could reserve a seat and collect it in a while. Left my name and phone number with him and made my way to their Bangsar office to get the ticket. So all the necessary arrangements were made and I told my aunts about it. Mum is not aware of this because I didn't want her to worry about me. She tends to be very concerned with my work and how all these will affect me. To let her worry is the last thing I want her to be occupied with.

Discovering GBM

"Why is this happening to me?"

"What did I do to deserve this?"

These two questions which Mum uttered when she first came to realise her condition, till this day, still ring in my head every now and then. I remember vividly on that Monday morning, July 19, 2008, right after the neurologist explained to us on the outcome of the biopsy, with dad in presence, we went into a state of shock. I was stunned. Dad probably did not have a clue just yet what Prof. Vicky said in English. The term he used, GBM or Glioblastoma multiforme, sounded foreign. His dry humour didn't hit our turf.

"Look at this way, at least it's going to be painless, and you won't feel much."

How could that be funny? I know Professor was trying to make it sound positive but we certainly were not amused. Words like "five months", I bet Dad can understand. By then, things started to make more sense and we began to see the reality of the whole situation. I could not read what was in Mum's head. But she was clearly deep in her thoughts. And I tried really hard keeping her mind off by telling her about work and talking fondly about how surprisingly friendly the nurses were there.

At the payment counter, I insisted on paying for the doctor's consultation fees which Mum persistently pressed that she is responsible for. I told her, "Mum, I'm your son. It's time I take care of you. Don't worry about this. Let me handle it." She was worried about me, about my financial health. Just a week ago, I paid the remaining balance of her hospitalisation fees and other clinical charges which run in four figures. That was the start to a series of modern day medical costs cancer patients would have to bear. It was the least of my concern as I just want Mum to be well again. I will do whatever it takes to bring her for treatments and consult with specialists as long as they are confident of healing her.