The walk along the quiet corridor towards the Faith Centre at the hospital seemed endless. I was heading towards the Muslim prayer room to perform my Zohr prayers. It was almost like I was in Twilight Zone; very surreal.
I had bid Mr D goodbye, and gave him the most cheery smile I could muster. So, as I stepped away from the ward, all the emotions I had bottled up splashed out without any warning.
The surgeon and oncologist (cancer specialist) are away for a course. They can only come and discuss with us on Monday and Tuesday respectively. Not long after I reached Mr D's bedside earlier yesterday, our dear Dr S came. She drew the curtains and started to explain Mr D's condition to us. She probably sensed our anxiety and decided that it was time for her to end the suspense we were in.
At that moment, I pitied S. She is young, extremely nice, soft spoken and very warm. I have known S since she was a small and chubby little girl. Her parents used to come over the house and bring her along with her older brother. Both of them were cute and cuddly and we'd all be fighting over who gets to carry them and push them on the swing. But that was many years ago. Approximately 10 years ago, I coached S and her cousin with their English (though I don't know why top students like them needed the coaching anyway!!). So, bottom line is, we have developed quite a relationship that when dealing with Mr D's case, all her professionalism is thrown down the drain - her eyes would well up and her voice would be shaky.
Anyway, here's what S told us. Currently, Mr D's situation is quite bad and this was evident through the CT scan. He's got stomach cancer, and it has spread out, moving up the oesophagus. The liver is unaffected but it has spread to the back: striking the spine. The situation is rather complex because it involves the stomach. To conduct surgery might pose problems, hence the next best thing would be chemotherapy. Even radiotherapy may not be carried out as it has spread out to other areas.
On a different note, I am surrounded by great and wonderful people. My in-laws will hopefully arrive next week. My two sisters back home have been calling me more than once a day, asking me of developments and giving me words of comfort. I've only managed to speak to my dad earlier tonight as he is now performing his umrah in the Holy land. I've also received tens of phone texts, especially from friends back home. Thank you all!! My dear friend, Bluewonder, has also rung me up to give support. She told me she couldn't sleep the night before, thinking about us. Even my buddy WKB, who's in northern England, and who keeps telling me to be strong, spends her time crying over our predicament. Fellow Malaysians in the neighbourhood have been giving me hugs and plates of food. Fellow bloggers have been dropping kind words while some have even written entries about my situation. Suddenly, I also have new blog friends who are sympathetic enough to make themselves visible, while offering good words of advice.
I must say that I am very touched with all your kind gestures but at the same time, I feel a little bit guilty for making all of you worry so much about us. Please don't cry and don't lose sleep. How can I be strong if my friends aren't strong? Isn't this all just a test? Doesn't He love us so much that He wants to see how we hold up to trials of life?
I am aware of all this and I am going to do my best to go through everything positively.
My appreciation goes out to all of you... Jazakallah.