foreword
ぜんかい -- ゼンカイ
no longer yearning. what have we not done before?
"the world is really but the stage - create the most fulfilling play"
If you're a thief, master the art of thievery.
A psychotic mind leaves no room for regrets.
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Zheng Kai
01.11.1989
CHS - AJC
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© Copyrights:
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Chok Zheng Kai, 2008
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Monday, July 23, 2007
I'll Make You A Rainbow
By Linda Bremner
There is nothing that can truly prepare you to lose your own child. Looking back, I've often thought the doctors should have written a death certificate for me as well as my son, for when he died, a part of me died too.
Andy was almost twelve. For over three years he had been battling cancer. He'd gone through radiation and chemotherapy; he'd gone into remission and out again, not once but several times. I was amazed at his resilience; he just kept getting up each time his cancer knocked him flat.
Perhaps it was his pluckiness and grit that shaped my own attitude about Andy's future, or maybe I was simply afraid to face the possibility of his death; whatever the cause I always thought that Andy would make it. He would be the kid that beat the odds.
For three summers, Andy had gone to a camp for kids with cancer. He loved it and seemed to relish the week he could forget about hospitals and sickness and just be a kid again. The day after he returned from his third camp adventure, we went to the clinic for a routine check-up. The news was bad. The doctor scheduled a bone marrow transplant for two days later in a hospital 300 miles away from our home. The next day we threw our things in a suitcase and left.
One of the things I tossed into my suitcase was the present Andy had brought home from camp for me. A plastic suncatcher shaped like a rainbow with a suction cup to attach it to a window. Like most mothers, I considered any present from my child a treasure and wanted it with me.
We arrived at the hospital and began the grueling ordeal the doctors felt was my son's only chance. We spent seven weeks there. They turned out to be the last seven weeks of Andy's life.
We never talked about dying...except once. Andy was worn out and must have known he was losing ground. He tried to clue me in. Nauseous and weak after one of the many difficult procedures he endured on a regular basis, he turned to me and asked, "Does it hurt to die?"
I was shocked, but answered truthfully, "I don't know. But I don't want to talk about death, because you are not going to die, Andy."
He took my hand and said, "Not yet, but I'm getting very tired."
I knew then what he was telling me, but tried hard to ignore it and keep the awful thought from entering my mind.
I spent a lot of my day watching Andy sleep. Sometimes I went to the gift shop to buy cards and notepaper. I had very little money, barely enough to survive. The nurses knew our situation and turned a blind eye when I slept in Andy's room and ate the extra food we ordered off of Andy's tray. But I always managed to scrape a bit together for the paper and cards because Andy loved getting mail so much.
The bone marrow transplant was a terrible ordeal. Andy couldn't have any visitors because his immune system was so compromised. I could tell that he felt even more isolated than ever. Determined to do something to make it easier for him, I began approaching total strangers in the waiting rooms and asking them, "Would you write my son a card?" I'd explain his situation and offer them a card or some paper to write on. With surprised expressions on their faces, they did it. No one refused me. They took one look at me and saw a mother in pain.
It amazed me that these kind people, who were dealing with their own worries, made the time to write Andy. Some would just sign a card with a little get-well message. Others wrote real letters: "Hi, I'm from Idaho visiting my grandmother here in the hospital..." and they'd fill a page or two with their story, sometimes inviting Andy to visit wherever they were from when he was better. Once a woman flagged me down and said, "You asked me to write your son a couple of weeks ago. Can I write him again?" I mailed all these letters to Andy, and watched happily as he read them. Andy had a steady stream of mail right up until the day he died.
One day, I went to the gift store to buy more cards and saw a rainbow prism for sale. Remembering the rainbow suncatcher Andy'd given me, I felt I had to buy it for him. It was a lot of money to spend, but I handed over the cash and hurried back to Andy's room to show him.
He was lying in his bed, too weak to even raise his head. The blinds were almost shut, but a crack of sunlight poured in slanting across the bed. I put the prism in his hand and said, "Andy, make me a rainbow." But Andy couldn't. He tried to hold his arm up, but it was too much for him.
He turned his face to me and said, "Mom, as soon as I'm better, I'll make you a rainbow you'll never forget."
That was the one of the last things Andy said to me. Just a few hours later, he went to sleep and during the night, slipped into a coma. I stayed with him in the ICU, massaging him, talking to him, reading him his mail, but he never stirred. The only sound was the constant drone and beepings of the life-support machines surrounding his bed. I was looking death straight in the face, but still I thought there'd be a last-minute save, a miracle that would bring my son back to me.
After five days, the doctors told me his brain had stopped functioning and that he'd never be "Andy" again. It was time to disconnect him from the machines that were keeping his body alive.
I asked if I could hold him, so just after dawn, they brought a rocking chair into the room and after I settled myself in the chair, they turned off the machines and lifted him from the bed to place him in my arms. As they raised him from the bed, his leg made an involuntary movement and he knocked a clear plastic pitcher from his bedside table onto the bed.
"Open the blinds," I cried. "I want this room to be full of sunlight!" The nurse hurried to the window to pull the cord.
As she did so, I noticed a suncatcher, in the shape of the rainbow attached to the window, left no doubt, by a previous occupant of this room. I caught my breath in wonder. And then as the sunlight filled the room, the rays hit the pitcher lying on its side on the bed and everyone stopped what they were doing, silent with awe.
The room was suddenly filled with flashes of color, dozens and dozens of rainbows, on the walls, the floors, the ceiling, on the blanket wrapped around Andy as he lay in my arms — the room was alive with rainbows.
No one could speak. I looked down at my son and he had stopped breathing. Andy was gone, but even in the shock of that first wave of grief, I felt comforted. Andy had made the rainbow that he promised me — the one I would never forget.
By Linda Bremner
Reprinted by permission of Linda Bremner
© 2000, from Chicken Soup for the Mother's Soul 2
by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Marci Shimoff and Carol Kline.
jm@thinkingagain.com
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Saturday, July 21, 2007
hey peeps haven been blogging in a long long time i noe.. but pardon me for it yeah. considering how dramatic (or rather hw i made it out to be) my life is, i really dun have time to phrase everything out nice and properly.. without washing away much essence of wad i really felt. oh well. so i guess im updating now becoz of NDP (n mebbe some dolphin who cries). lol. yup i jus came back from NDP rehearsal. i must say the concept this yr of having it at marina bay is rly amazing. from where i was seating (right smack in the midde), on my left was the singapore flyer, front was the stage and all, right is skyscrapers, esplanade and orchestra/choir stand. it was the best view anyone cud have asked for... ahhaa..
so as similar to all other ndp parades, the rain fell slightly jus before the parade gt started n miraculously disappeared, only to return after the parade lol. the goodie bag this yr is rly interesting with different color strips u can detach and zip onto other colors to DIY ur own bag. haha. but still dun think anyone will rly carry out.. okay lemme nw go on to more exciting things: SHOCK NO. 1: the moment i gt the bag n sat down i opened to see wads inside haha. and lo and behold the first thing i saw was nelson kwei's face! this time his pic is even bigger than any in our concert brochures. lol! wonder wad he's doing inside the bags for thousands of singaporeans lol.. some national icon eh? ahha. SHOCK NO. 2: the emcee was presenting this orchestra and the song their playing and omg tt song is arranged by PHOON YEW TIEN. lol! almost spilled those crackers i was muching away. but luckily the song is nice. so much so tt i forgive him now for the syf madness.
okay i think thats all for the shocks ahha anti climax but nvrtheless it was an exciting experience... RV choir was the choir.. tsung yeh is the music director, janani (the sop who didnt managed to dsa to vj) sang the theme song, and a diva duet btwn a tenor n soprano caught my attention. besides tt, the defence showcase was so spectacular i begin to feel proud of SAF n see things on the bright side reg NS. for once in my life. oh no but wait i think i jus lost tt feeling again ahahha. the rest of the mass display were jus okay lor ahha. but the water screens was cool.. tgth with the cute jellyfishes.. towards the end i was jus zi-highing with my mum dancing along and blasting away.. even majulah singapura. lol. the middle aged guy beside me must be thinking im nuts. but oh well i think my family did a better job in being high than those rah rah cheerleaders lah!
now tt pattaya is over and OMG IM SO HAPPY FOR ALL OF YOU AND PROUD OF OURSELVES, its time to hit the books. hahhahahahhahahahaha. okay tt laughter was jus me tying too hard again. but oh well. no need to tell me to hit the books. even the ants crawling along my kitchen flow are telling me tt. =/ thats it for now. catch me at caroling! =))
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Sunday, July 01, 2007
dont try to understand this entry. coz P(X<0.001) so yah.
hey. im so sorry. i cant meet ur expectations. it may be too bad for me. but im thinking its more of too bad for u. i know what im doing so dont try to intercept. respect who i am or you'll lose the fundamentals. i hope things will stay calm this way.
once again, the great depression is approaching. not that im being negative or like being a pessimist coz i obviously dont, but some things need to be taken into consideration now that things take for this turn. dont blame me if you lose in the end. behind all this, a divine hand might be intervening indeed.
smile. thats all we need now. =)
now, back to basics.
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