Uncle's Crisis

We, the whole family, were on our way from Genting Highland to KL when my Mom received a Blackberry Messenger message from one of my cousins. She was asking my mom whether we had known the condition of her father.
My Dad took out his phone and called his sister, i.e. the mother of that cousin, Auntie, to ask what was wrong and the response was a frantic cry from her.

Uncle was admitted to ICU.

He was about to leave for Hong Kong, on that supposed-to-be-a-joyous-and-festive 1st day of 2012 when he  told Auntie that his leg felt weak and felt dizzy before he turned unconscious.

Uncle is famous, or rather notorious, for his appetite for good food and as we all know, the taste of food is always inversely proportional to how healthy the food is. Uncle, who was on medication control for his diabetes and hypertension, had never forgotten to offer (and eat) Durians whenever we visit him.

But almost every visit to his place has never been a really pleasant one. He would reprimand his youngest son, a soon to be poly-grad, for almost everything that he does. Sometimes they are justified scoldings, most of the time is out of emotion. His oldest son, already 30 something, is yet to be successful and probably still rely on Uncle on a lot of his finances. While Uncle's other two children are married brides. And these four people are very rarely a united bunch.

Was it the food? Was it the stress from the family? We were trying to aimlessly speculate on the cause of his stroke that put him to his coma. Nevertheless, Auntie also rationally realized that there's nothing much anyone of us could do anymore and only asked my dad to offer a prayer to wish for Uncle's speedy recovery over that phone call.

While my parents and my sisters headed to Penang before their flight back to hometown the next day, I headed back to Changi and spent sometime resting around the east. Then I went to the hospital, still with my backpack, still filled with dirty laundries. All of Uncle's children were already there, probably after taking their urgent flights from Medan and Sydney, and with Auntie and the youngest, the only two other who are living in Singapore.

As a indebted nephew, whom and whose parents had been offered place to stay by Uncle, whenever they come to visit me in Singapore, I could only feel obliged to accompany my Auntie and the rest at the ICU lobby. I couldn't offer to her much other than my presence and constant reminder to take care of herself and not to surrender on her despair due to this never-before-encountered crisis. More so because she didn't eat at all that day of Uncle's admission.

I also saw Uncle, still in ICU after his brain surgery, with drips, vent and pipes here and there: head, foot, wrist, neck, mouth, and also probably from his bottom (for excretion). Not a sight you could and would want to see everyday. It was not even this scary even when my Grandma passed away since she she decided to leave us peacefully after some failed treatment.

That first working week of January, I always reach home at 11.30pm to 12am almost everyday because I would be visiting them first after work. Most of the time, a lot of relatives of Uncle that I dont know at all. They would talk about Uncle's eating habit and temper, or how expensive the hospital bill was gonna be, or complain about how Uncle's sons should behave from this point onwards, etc. Auntie had also ask me to stay with her temporarily after I am back from CNY because the rest will have flown back to their own places, leaving behind only Auntie and the youngest, and Uncle of course, if he's already discharged from ICU by then.

The following weekend I stayed with them so I could accompany them. But, inside their house is like four countries at war in the house maybe with one scapegoat country, the youngest: Always scolded for the littlest (normally excusable) mistake. Uncle's sisters and brother (who also came from Medan) and me were staying there as guests.
Poor youngest one. He was always the subject of anger from the rest, without moderation, disregarding our presence as guests. Maybe due to that state adolescence, he also tends to fight back. More emotions are involved from both sides due to the apparent stress as tears accompanied the sister's shoutings that day. Started from something as trivial as the breakdown of a water boiler in the house.

You know, I always see myself as a poor little employee who still relies on petty salary to continue living. I am also spend trift and almost never wise on my financial decision. This makes me hate the phrase:
"Look at William".
To them I am probably a role model who is one step closer to success by having a permanent job and who is now independent and self-sustaining salaryman. I'd like to think that I am never *that* good , as there are too many people I know who's doing much better than me. It's probably a fair comparison to Uncle's oldest son, but is unfair because this phrase is only used to the youngest who's yet to graduate from his Poly study (funded with a scholarship from one of top government bodies). I am very tired of this "Look at William" because it's been used too often during this crisis.

The second week of Uncle in the ICU is over and he is yet to be discharged. Auntie did not look as depressed as the earlier days, which is good and the youngest is starting to learn to become independent in doing chores to alleviate Auntie's housework so that she can focus on taking care of Uncle in the future. Little by little, Uncle's condition also seems improving.

I am grateful that this didn't happen to my family. Although indeed this might happen to us one day, but I hope we, especially my parents, have taken back some learning points especially on anticipation and preparedness (mentally and financially). I will be accompanying Auntie for quite a while too and also will be wishing for what's best for them.