I sent Maya a text.
'Mom is in ICU. Stroke. And huge swelling in the brain. Very worried. Please pray for us.'
'Ok gf. Definitely will. In fact, I start now.' Maya replied.
The ICU does not allow family or visitors to accompany the patients 24/7. When I was not allowed in, I seized the chance to go back to mom's house. I showered, and got myself some food although everything was tasteless. I kept the house tidy and did the laundry.
And I will get myself to the hospital, the moment the doors are opened to visitors, I shall not waste a single minute being anywhere else but beside my mom.
Certain day she shows signs of clinical progression, like she can say 'Ou... oui' or she gained better strength in moving her limbs.
I still talked to her, as if she understood me. I told her about Maya, about work, about Cliff, about the food I ate. The nurse warned me "There is no need to raise your voice, she isn't deaf." Mom would look at me, and listen and occasionally smiled.
I wish so badly, that mom would quickly regain her ability to speak with me, so she can chat with me.
I remember when I was a teenager watching TV, she would chatter and chatter, and many times I told her 'Mom, stop talking! I am trying to watch the TV.'
Oh, how I would give up anything for her to irritate me like that again.
"Would you like to feed her? You might as well start learning now," the nurse said.
Mom was attached with a Ryle's tube, that goes from her nose directly into her stomach. The end dangling from her nose is where the food goes in. The doctor explained that mom's ability to swallow is weakened too.
I took the syringe which was filled with liquid food, attached to the end of the Ryle's tube and gently pumped the plunger. Watching the gooey material travels into the nose and imagine them getting into the throat and stomach, I winced feeling my own throat tightened too.
I quickly controlled my facial expression when I realized that mom was about to copy my reaction. "Ticklish, isn't it, maman?" I said.
I texted Maya 'Mild clinical improvement today. Swelling in brain stays the same.'
Throughout the day, she wound send random texts to encourage me and just let me know that she was thinking of us. Sometimes I felt God was near us, seeing us through. And I truly believed that mom will recover, albeit slowly.
The good news was, mom was transferred out of ICU to a normal ward.
Although I could opt for a private room, I decided to keep her in the general ward because there were nurses on duty around the clock within the same wall.
And secondly, I fear the pinch in my bank account.
The doctor counseled me into preparing the home for a stroke patient. It was an overwhelming task. Sourcing for suitable bed, wheelchair, establishing a way to clean the patient daily, to feed the patient daily, and the list goes on and on. For now, while I can still carry the weight upon my shoulders, I will be my mother's caregiver.
However, no matter how strong I steeled myself to be, there are unending issues that required my attention. Being in the general ward now, as the closest kin, I can spend most of my time accompanying her, right beside her.
I would hold her hand and tell her that I love her. That I pray for her.
Sometimes I would just hold her hand in silence.
On another day, mom was expressing frustration. She totally yanked out the Ryle's tube from her nose, and she pushed me away when I hugged her. As a sick adult, I might understand her frustration because suddenly she wasn't the independent one anymore, and she needed help with the tiniest basic actions. She was throwing tantrums like a toddler.
I did not react to mom's action, but when she fell asleep and I get a moment for myself, I caught myself crying again.
"It could be the swelling in the brain affecting her behaviour, Ms Faye" the nurse consoled.
The other good news was that the swelling in the brain did not get bigger. Thus, the doctor hinted if mom's condition remained stable, or better improving, I could bring her home. Yay to progress!
I obtained the discharge note. I cleared the hospitalization and medicinal fees. Even if I am jobless now, my mom and I could survive for another 5 or 6 months. I will deal with that later.
No amount of reading or hearing experiences from others could adequately prepare me for bringing home a stroke patient and take care of her. No, I am not complaining at all. This is my mother and it is my utmost privilege! However, truth be told, my whole life had gone topsy-turvy. My life is not my own anymore.
When I took mom back to her home, where we will now be staying indefinitely, the place was already equipped with bed and facilities to ease her daily functions.
"Welcome home, maman. Don't you just hate the smell of the disinfectant in the hospital? No more of that," I monologued with my mother. Conversationally. "Ahh... perhaps you are not gonna miss the hospital food too. But I must warn you, mom, my cooking is somewhat on par with theirs. Hahaha."
I lifted mom's frail body, which felt like dead weight. Thankfully I was trained in the gym.
Maya constantly kept in contact with me, asking for updates, offering comfort.
Every moment spent with mom was precious. I was hopeful. We will arrange for physiotherapy and speech therapies and everything will be better eventually.
I cooked the first meal for mom. It was porridge. Spoon by spoon, I patiently brought it up to her lips and watched her swallowed painstakingly. "Remember the burnt pot, maman? We were laughing so much. You would have laughed too now..." I thought it was an achievement that mom consumed half a bowl.
I shall have the leftovers. I took a bite and immediately wanted to spit it out.
"Yuck, mom! That was disgusting to eat," and I couldn't bring myself to finish it.
I lifted mom to the toilet and bathed her up. And then, I tucked her into bed as I slept in another bed adjacent to hers. Mom, I love you.
The next day, I woke up startled. Mom was clutching her chest and struggled to breath as if she was being choked by the air she breathed. "Mom! What is wrong?!" as if she could tell me. "Mom!"
I called the ambulance, and we rushed off to the hospital again.