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.