In case you were wondering if I had joined a caravan of singing beatniks or if the aliens had finally overcome the gravity pull to suck me into their space craft (in which case let it be known that I was the first Malaysian astronaut, not Dr SMS), no such luck. I'm alive, busy as usual, procrastinating like mad, and playing too many Scrabulous games on Facebook. Came back from Phuket a few weeks ago and have been at the mercy of my computer as its memory is down to 256MB RAM (I think one card got busted), all the while wasting my life away as Photoshop loads, stalls, says hi, stalls, lets me adjust stuff, stalls, saves, stalls... you get the drift. I have 500+ photos, of which 50% I will likely delete cos I don't have the patience to touch them up and they look yucks without any Photoshop magic.
So is my grandma
Some of you may also know that my only surviving grandma (maternal) fell down twice recently. The first fall happened on Wednesday, 26th September. She was teasing my niece, doing that 'shame-shame' thing with the forefinger stroking her own face, while backing up. There was a stool behind her. Either she'd wanted to sit on the stool, and missed, or tripped over it by accident. But she fell back and was in pain. I only got to know of it at night when I came home from work, and saw the doctor walking into our house. It was the shoddy, el cheapo doctor from the opposite clinic who—on the last occasion I was sick and went to see him—had wrapped the thermometer in CLINGWRAP before shoving it into my ear to take the temperature (there are disposable covers you're supposed to buy and use, ya know), and whom I suspected had REUSED the wooden stick you hold down people's tongues with to say 'aaaaaah'. Cheap Chinaman con-doctor who charged me RM40 for a simple check-up. Gah! Well anyway, he gave my granny a jab, which she thought would work a miracle as she tried standing immediately. But bones take a long time to heal, especially if you're 97, and eventually she decided that lying down was better.
On Friday, 28th September, I boarded a plane to Phuket with my colleagues. It wasn't after I came back on Sunday that I found out she had had a second fall on the day I left. She'd fallen in her room—perhaps she'd overestimated the strength in her legs. But she was really weak after that, and my aunt said that if she has a third fall, that would be the end of her. My uncle and aunt brought her to Assunta Hospital for a check-up that lasted all day, and the X-Ray showed her bones to be extremely brittle. She broke a hip bone, I think, and also fractured a part of her spine. I don't remember the details. The doctor gave her some calcium thing to sniff up alternate nostrils every day. I know because I sat on her bed twice, and let her talk. I haven't done that before.
Fast forward to today and she's making progress. She can stand on her own, but still needs to be pushed around on either a wheelchair or a typist's chair (easier to get on and out of). Some church members have visited and prayed for her in Chinese, which is good. She nods her head and allows them to pray. My aunt who's a Catholic had been pushing to get her baptised by a priest, as she believes that through baptism alone, one's salvation is sealed and sins are forgiven. The day before the priest was supposed to come, my grandma told my aunt that she wasn't ready and doesn't have the faith to believe in her heart. That appointment was cancelled.
I pray for her healing, and her salvation. My mum's been a solid help, finally earning praises from my all-too-critical grandma. Her remarks and judgmental comments have always cut my mum, who, despite serving my grandma all these decades, has never really been 'good enough' for my granny. Everything she does has always been unappreciated and seen as second-grade. We are hoping there will be a glorious ending to this accident yet; that God would turn this fall into a miraculous, redeeming act.