It was at night when the nurse came to me with the laboratory results in her hands. "Ms Faye, there is nothing critical and everything appears stable for now. As we have known previously, your mom has a weak heart. We shall monitor her over the night and if she is clinically stable, she can be discharged tomorrow morning."
The next morning, the doctor signed the discharge note and I brought mom home, after paying another bill, of course. That was definitely another pinch in the pocket. From the 2 recent hospital admissions, more than half a month of my working salary was gone. Okay... I figured if we live simply, we would still survive.
I pushed away the thought that eventually I must go back to the marketplace to bring bread back home. And that would mean hiring a caretaker in the house?
How long for a breakthrough? How long do I have to hang on? How long CAN I hang on, despite all the love I have for mom?
After two days at home, things seemingly stabilized, and I almost able to establish a new routine.
When another drama unfolds.
I needed to rush mom to the hospital yet again. Mom relapsed into a worse state of aphasia.
Again?! I looked at mom in anger, not because I was angry at her. She did not choose to be ill. I was angry with everything. Why are we not getting better? I was getting bloody tired and I was hanging by a thread, at the verge of snapping. Mom was studying my facial expression, and even as she could not move much, a tear rolled down her cheek.