I received the devastating phone call the very same night Cliff bared his soul. I haven't properly digest the magnitude of what he honestly wanted me to know, when an unknown land number called me.
It was the hospital. Mom was warded in the ICU. She started with a chest pain and went to the hospital alone, gripping her heart, hoping the pain was just transient.
The doctors ordered a lot of tests and by the time the results came out, the pain had already left. She thought she could spare me the worry by deciding not to tell me about it, since she was feeling much better then.
She wrote my name and number as the emergency contact during admission. Just in case, a worse case scenario pops up.
Indeed, the worst case scenario did.
The next day, under the watch of the hospital staff, she developed stroke. Not only was she found with muscle weakness, she had what the doctors call global aphasia. The loss of ability to understand language, unable to understand what people says and unable to express herself in words, be it spoken or written.
Mom was sent for brain scans, and the hospital staff decided it was time to call the emergency number attached.
That very night, I booked a flight to return to mom. One way ticket. I called mom many times and attempted to reach her on the phone. It was engaged. At that point, I haven't grasp the severity of her condition that she has no energy to answer the phone, which battery was dead, neither had she the ability to speak nor listen.
Not being able to reach her was tormenting.
I packed my bag with simple necessities and quickly thought of what else to sort out in my emergency absence. O crap... work.
I slept poorly. My whole being was too worried about my mom that I dared not fall asleep. How could anyone sleep soundly knowing someone they love is in the Intensive Care Unit?
Mom... hang in there. I'm coming.
My tears flow uncontrollably until I have no strength left, wondering what if I arrive too late?
When morning came, I took my luggage with me, locked up my apartment and went straight to the clinic.
I waited outside until I saw my boss arrived. I didn't want to wait for her inside the clinic to spare me the agony of explaining my puffy eyes to other colleagues.
"Dr Jade... I am sorry but I have to resign." It was so sudden for all of us. Naturally she demanded to know why. 'Personal reason' is not good enough.
I explained the little that I knew to her and concluded that with "... I am sorry, I know you are short of staff. If I am to ask you to grant me leaves, I couldn't give a time frame as in when will I be able to come back to work. I might as well... resign. My mom needs me now. She is all I ever have."
I was fighting back tears.
"Faye..." Dr Jade said, "You are an excellent team member here. Not having you here is my loss.
And we only have one mother. I hope that she gets well and soon.
And, I'm keeping your position here. You can come back to work with us anytime, but go, take care of your mother now. Godspeed."
Upon touching down, I rushed to the hospital as soon as possible. I must see my mom immediately.
At the entrance of the ICU, I needed to sign in and scrub myself. A part of me was fearful, another part of me had kicked into survival mode and whatever it is, I resolved to be strong and be there for my mom.
I approached her bed with each deliberate steps, fixing my gaze on the woman who knew me so well.
I know the nurses were looking at me. We can talk later. Let me get to mom first.
That was my mom alright, sleeping on the bed, but she looked so sickly in the patient's suit. Wait... is she asleep? or sedated? or couldn't wake up?
Seeing her nose attached to tube that feed her with nourishment, and her mouth covered with a transparent mask that was supposedly feeding her with oxygen. Her eyes were closed as her head dropped sideways.
Numerous other attachments were seen on her arms. Some were drips, some were wires monitoring her vital signs.
The screen behind her beep softly and rhythmically. Although noting the regular rhythm of the heartbeat was somewhat comforting, seeing my mom in such state was simply heartbreaking for me.
I stopped right beside her and gazed down at her lovely face. Another tear escaped and trickled down mine.
I reached for her hand, warm the way I used to know it, and squeeze gently.
Mom responded immediately by opening her eyes, to my delight. I quickly wiped that prodigal tear away from my face, gave mom a smile and whispered "Maman, je suis ici." I am here.
She closed her eyes again and there was a pained expression underneath the mask, tubes and stuff partially obscuring her face.
She opened her eyes again and saw me.
She smiled.
I asked, "How are you feeling,mom?"
"Ms Faye... at the moment, your mom could not understand the words that you said, and she couldn't speak," the voice of the nurse jolted me surprised, as much as the information that she had just given me.
She had come closer to both of us, ready to assist or explain or answer all my questions.
"I... how bad is it? What is her current condition...?" I asked the nurse, without breaking my eye contact with mom.
Mom would probably be thinking I was speaking directly with her. I also maintained my smile.
"Her heart isn't too well, Ms Faye. The cardiac output is low, about 30%. It means with every pump of the heart, the volume of blood that is supposed to circulate the whole body is not enough.
And, the stroke affected the left side of the brain that controls language and communications." She paused for me. I knew she was just pausing, I did not break the silence but waited for her to continue.
"The recent brain scan shows that there is a massive swelling in her brain. If she lost consciousness or if the swelling gets bigger, she would need a brain surgery." The nurse paused again.
Now I closed my eyes. I had stopped smiling. I waited in silence again, hoping that was the end of her report.