My dad is a real survivor. I think he will really make it to his 88 years as he wanted!


Once again, as it was 2 years ago, he has made it against the odds. After more than three months in hospital, he finally made it home. He made it through stints in the High Dependency, in the ICU, the episodes of near renal failure, the "messy op" (doc's words, not mine), the many side trips into complication-territory and so on... its amazing but he's done it. Came out in one piece minus his gall bladder and came home with still one drain left but he's still done it. To be honest, there were moments when I doubted he could make it, but he did!

Best of all, his personality seems to have undergone a bit of a change. Early days yet but I hope I'm right. I see a softer side, more interest in the family, a readiness to engage us. Case in point - he's actually joining us for Christmas Eve dinner, which he has not done for many years. I'm very happy about all this.

A big thank you to everyone for your well wishes, your prayers and your thoughts. I don't think dad would have pulled through without all the silent and unseen prayer warriors here.

A bigger, heartfelt thank you to my mum - the unsung hero in all this. I know he certainly would not have made it if not for her and her untiring efforts to keep him comfortable, get him the best possible care and so on. I hope he realises what a wonderful wife he has! And me, always thankful to have a mum like her.

What a year 2009 has been! Its come and gone so fast. In just a couple of days the kids will be back at school, a new cycle would have started and we've zoomed off to another year. But if I've learned anything this year, more than ever, its not to take for granted the big and little things that God has given you. Big would be health, our jobs, our homes, family, friends, stability, security but small would be the little unseen gems that pass unnoticed when we slip from one day to the next - a quiet hour with a book, breakfast in a park, my Korean dramas, Trin dancing when she's in a good mood, kids laughing at the dinner table, a nice afternoon's chat with friends and so on.

I'm greedy so I hope God will send more gems my way next year. But I also pray to remember the lessons learned this year - not to take anything for granted - you really never know what can happen, and to be strong enough to accept things and move on if or when the bad stuff really happens.

So a Blessed, Merry Christmas to everyone! May you be blessed with robust health and an unending stream of happiness for the coming year!

This is a video of Caitlin's floor exercise at the recent competition. No chance to post till now. Since the competition, the kids have been sick, Trin in hospital and then we left for Malaysia - which also deserves a blog entry on Big On Trips. So I have not had time to upload this or even continue with my trip reports on Japan.

In this video, the man videoing is her coach Mr Lim. Sitting with the rest of her team-mates is her other coach He Laoshi.

Despite feeling under the weather, Cait went for the competition. At first, she was not inclined to compete, looking a bit pale and with hair still uncombed from sleep. But with the bright lights and the excitement, seeing all the little girls and her team-mates wear their leotards, getting made up (glitter eye shadow!) and hair pulled into high perky ponytails, plus some egging on by me, finally she turned to me and nodded.

The competition, organised by UWC, looked more like a Sunday family carnival than a formal competition. Announcements were not clear, we could not tell when warm-up ended and the competition formally began and lastly, prize-giving was very informal - more like Uncle Charles' backyard barbie funfest prize-giving ceremony for the egg-spoon race.

In any case, I think the girls had fun and it was a good, tension-free introduction to the competitive arena. No prizes for Cait but her team came in 4th in the invitational section. The other CHIJ team came in 5th.

Cait looked better and happier when competition was over, so maybe it was just what she needed to get over the bug.

Okay, life is definitely not returning to normal anytime soon.

I write this perched on Trinity's bed in a 4-bedded ward in KK Women's and Children's Hospital.

At around 9pm last night, she started throwing up. And kept on throwing up. Each time she vomited, the tummy spasmed so badly that she would scream and alternately call for me, her daddy and her Loli. I know how she felt - throwing up and retching so hard that your stomach feels turned inside out, wishing that someone can help you and make it go away and the awful thing is, no one can. When people throw up, one can only hold the person, but there is nothing one can do to make it go away.

We brought her and Owain (who was also throwing up and had been listless with a high fever since Monday) to the KK emergency room. Both were given meds and Owain managed to keep his down after observation for an hour. But Trin, despite given domperidone via a suppository, was still retching and throwing up like clockwork every 15min. By midnight, I think she had thrown up around 10 times. The doctor said we should admit her.

So KH brought Owain and his meds home and I ended up in a 4-bed ward (the singles were all out) spending a fitful night on a tiny foldable campbed next to Trin's bed. Would you believe the campbed actually had an indentation where the butt lies? How many parents have camped out on this bed so that it hollows out just right where the hips lie?

Trin was a trooper. I insisted on lidocaine cream before they inserted the plug. I was afraid she would scream to high heaven and throw one of her tantrums. But I need not have worried, she was so tired/sleepy and with the lidocaine, she barely flinched when the inserted the plug. I was the more anxious one, feeling the pain for her.

They have given her a glucose drip and for now, its nil by mouth. Despite that, she still woke up at least twice in the night to cry weakly and puke - the little that is left to puke, that is.

I had a restless night - babies and children crying and wailing in the night (poor babies) and frazzled tamped down sounds of mothers drowsily hushing, the beep of monitors, nurses coming in and out... I did not even dare use the toilet in the night lest it sets off the baby sleeping in cubicle just beside. Had to go out of the ward.

I am going to ask for a single room again. I am NOT looking forward to a second night like this.

Back home, things are also not looking good. Gillian is down with bad upper respiratory tract infection that has spread to her ears and left her nasal and clogged.As of last night, Isaac had diarrhoeaed twice and thrown up once. Caitlin has been diarrhoeaing over the past days but not been affected energy-wise. But last night, she threw up 4 times. By 3am, both Isaac and Cait were in the emergency room with KH. Poor man hardly slept with ferrying the kids to and from the emergency room. The senior doctor there took a look at KH and did a double take, asking KH: you look familiar. Didn't I just see you here? and poor KH had to say yes, bringing back batch no. 2.

I worry about Cait's competition on Saturday. We were up for filming on Sunday for a CNA documentary on big families but looks like that is going on the back burner. We have made plans for a trip up to Penang for our complimentary stay at the Parkroyal at Batu Ferringhi for the following week so hopefully the kids all recover in time.

Had to take a deep breath just writing that.

I was away from the office for two weeks, and out on child sick leave. When I came back, I was told some smart aleck passed this remark: she has too many children. My take is, its none of their business but if they choose to be narrow about this, too bad for them. I don't live my life by the yardstick of others who have narrow minds and small hearts. My life is hectic and full because I have five children, but this is what I signed up for and I will roll with the punches. There is never a dull day and today, I am living it.

Ach dilemma again.

We're back from a numbing but so-lovely trip to Japan and life is trying to settle back to Normal. If there was such a thing in a crazy house with 5 kids.

Training has resumed for Cait - in dance and in gym. We got word from her Chinese coach that Mr Lim was displeased that she had been shortlisted for dance. They did not want her attention diluted and wanted her focus to be solely on gym. Before we left, Mr Lim had told her pointblank - choose. Can't have both. We left it at that two weeks ago, with KH and I still adamant that she would try dance and see how far this would go.

So yesterday, back from Japan, we resumed the juggle for now. Cait has dance practice from 12 to 2pm daily but because she's got the UWC competition coming up at the end of the week, she will leave dance early at 1.30pm to go for gym training from 1.30 to 6.30pm. Luckily both are held in school so its just a matter of rushing from the dance studio on the ground floor to the gym on the 5th floor.

When we picked her from training, her Chinese coach had a word with us. She said she would not be staying long in CHIJ as a coach. She would stay until the first term but once the national inter-school competition was over, she would move on to be a coach in the centralised training for national squad. Now my Mandarin is not very good and so I'm not sure if I heard correctly but the gist of it was, both Coach Shao and Mr Lim think Cait has potential to go further. So they are suggesting that she train with the national squad in the 7 to 9 age group, under Coach Shao. So instead of training with the school team, Cait would go for centralised training with the aim of representing Singapore one day.

Coach Shao saw that we were confused and hesitant, not sure about what this all means and the kind of commitment it would entail. To clarify, she said it means ramping up training significantly to three hours a day, seven days a week. But for a start, she added, we could just try it out three days a week. This means, AFTER school training ends at 5pm, three days a week, Cait would go with Coach Shao to CCAB at Evans Road and train from 6pm to 8pm.

Well, we're kinda gobsmacked. We actually just wanted to talk to Coach Shao about the competition schedule this weekend and did not expect this. We told Coach Shao we would think about this and let her know. Meanwhile, KH says privately to me, time for a family meeting. Because with her intense training, we'll have to rope in the older ones to help fetch/send to/from training and this may mean sacrifices on everyone's part.

In Japan, I teasingly called her my "world-class gymnast" and Isaac et al would protest ("WHAT world-class gymnast?!") but that was just a loving little joke. In the light of what Coach Shao said, this does not seem like a joke anymore.

We're proud of her, so proud that she has the talent and potential to go far. But what does all this mean and how far will we go? There will be lots for our family to discuss in the following days. Isaac and Gillian have no hesitation - "It's an opportunity, mum! It's not going to come again," says Gillian. And Isaac muttered, "I don't know what you are all waiting for, go for it lah. National squad you know!"

I know, and I am thrilled but scared.

So I am walking to the canteen for lunch, a late lunch. I had just come off the phone from a 45-minute phone marathon with a Call-Centre Clone from the travel insurance company dancing circles around me. All I wanted was clear information on claiming for mum's flight cancellation and information on how I should claim if I went to Japan and had to fly back urgently. The Call Centre Clone was trying to be perky Pollyanna giving me the standard lines in sugar-coated tones. And calling me by my first name.

Pity the sugar did not last long. You know how the Call Centre Clones are right? They speak in caveats, footnotes and addendums in very fine print? Ah that was the case today. We were shadow boxing with definitions of words like "unexpected" and "original documents". To say it was frustrating is an understatement.

We had gone a few pointless rounds before I gritted my teeth and asked to speak to her boss, or her boss's boss - anyone who could give me a concrete answer. There was a stiff silence. Ms Pollyanna called me by my formal first name (no longer on casual first names!) and said she would put me on hold while she called in the troops for airpower support. She was no longer sweetness and light anymore. Thank God because any more sugar and I would have gone into a diabetic fit.

Her boss came on the line. Five minutes later, I got the answers I needed. By the way, remind me never to let Call Centre Clones call me by my first name. It just makes me angrier when they try to do the shuffleboard with me.

But I digress. So there I was - tired, stomach growling, faintly nauseous already, my eyes aching from proof-reading the prospectus, my mind mangled from the onslaught of too many thoughts and worries from all directions - Japan, insurance, work, dad, mum, new maid and so on.

And then The Voice comes. Literally right into my head, it goes: "Why are you always and forever questioning me ah? I already told you it will all go well and be as it should be. You don't trust me to make it right is it? You keep asking so many questions - I've told you: it will be okay! Now stop it!"

The voice of God perhaps? He didn't sound like God. But then who is to say God speaks the way the bible says He does, with all the thee, thy and thou of ancient texts? There was no booming Charlton Heston voice either. In fact, He sounded uncannily like Phua Chu Kang.

And He also sounded quite exasperated. I felt better immediately. By the time I thanked Him and tucked into my nasi padang, I was feeling quite cheery.

All in His hands - me, dad, mum, trip, insurance, Call Centre Clones. The Man juggles many balls but He would not drop them. It will all work out just as He says.

Dad has been extubated on day 3 post surgery. He has had an additional Coop loop inserted into his left lung to drain the fluids collected there. The x-ray had showed the lung almost entirely opague and collapsed with no air activity, hence the need for a Coop loop. The loop worked very well and more than a litre was drained in the first 2-hrs post-insertion.

With dad, there is always good and bad news. So the not-so-good news is that the right lung is beginning to show some signs of fluid collection and dad is coughing out yellow phlegm, a sign of infection. Mom frets about pneumonia. But this may not happen and we will cross that when we get to it.

He is more lucid/conscious than previously and that is a good sign. He's also been a bit of a bad boy in trying to pull out (actually he did pull out) the tube in the nose that drains the bile. So the nurses have had to tie his hands with restraints. We were dismayed to see this but we understand that it is necessary. Dad, of course, is NOT a happy camper to be restrained.

Depending on who you talk to, his facial expression can be interpreted in two ways. My sister says it is a big eye-popping glare that he directs at her and mom because he hates being restrained and having all the tubes inserted etc. Mom, on the other hand, interprets the look as one of 'desperation'. I think its a bit of both. He is probably desperate, frustrated and angry at all that has been done to him. I don't blame him. In his shoes, I would have felt the same.

Dad went for emergency surgery yesterday morning. He is now in ICU under close observation.

I think the surgery had mixed results. The gall bladder was removed, as planned. But the original intent to join the pseudocyst to the stomach wall did not materialise because of the condition of the pancreas.

Dad had lost a significant amount of blood during the op and his BP was very low post-op. The approach is to support him in whatever he needs - that includes blood transfusions and any blood products where necessary, drugs to boost the blood pressure and close monitoring for his glucose levels. They are also giving him morphine for pain management as well as sedative drugs. He is intubated and the machine is helping him breathe for the moment. When his vital signs are more stable, they will remove the tube.

In his sides are four drains, draining blood and fluid from the abdominal cavity and the pancreas. It is likely, says the doctor, that he will have to have at least one drain for a long time. They will slowly take the drains out over time, but it is likely that he might have to go home with one drain still in place. He also has a naso-gastric tube in place to drain biliary fluid - which is a fascinating electric green in colour!

I think we are all a bit numb by now. It is never easy to see so many tubes coming out of him. But I have a good feeling that dad will make it. It will take time but I think he will make it. As always, we take things a day at a time. For now, he is in ICU receiving constant attention and care, really the best place for him. Nothing much we can do for him at the moment and overall, it is best for him to just recuperate at his own pace. Spiritually, dad has made his peace with God - he has received the sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick and has made his confession, so I think there is a certain level of peace.

What began on 26 Sept came full circle yesterday Nov 1 2009. This is all of us in the queue that hot Saturday morning, a friendship started by a common goal - Neil Gaiman tickets!

picture by Janice Tay

My Gaiman queue kakis had sent a string of emails planning lunch before the Gaiman event on Sunday. I missed that because I did not check my emails in the days prior to Sunday. I am usually check my email daily but the days in the lead-up to the signing were busy with several birthdays, visits to the hospitals, to the maid agency, running last-minute errands for the Japan trip and so on. Hence I missed the whole arrangement about meeting for lunch and sitting together in the VIC.

On Sunday afternoon after my own quick lunch with Isaac and the family at Marina Square, KH dropped me at the VIC. We were not late, but not early enough to grab good seats either. So we ended up towards the last one-third of the VIC. I was busy messaging Xuemei trying to find them. Finally saw Eldred - right in the front row!! Waved frantically. Wanida messaged me immediately to tell me she's got two seats right up front. So with seconds to spare, as Neil Gaiman walked on stage, Isaac and I hotfooted it over to the front. Prime seats - second row! Well within ogling distance! Plus I got to sit with my queue kakis too!

Gaiman was funny, self-deprecating, charming. He spoke about a project he was doing in China - Journey to the West! Can't wait to see what he would do with that mythological favourite. He also spoke at length about my favourite Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki, bee-keeping, blogging, Coraline the movie, his new 8-minute silent movie with Bill Nighy, how his nick ' Scary Trousers' came about, his partner-in-crime for children's books and graphic novels, Dave McKean and there was even his encounter with a birth educator! I felt like I got a special shout-out when he talked about how he felt when the birth educator, while demo-ing the baby's passage through the pelvis (complete with baby doll and pelvis - so familiar!), accidentally yanked the baby's head OFF - I can tell you this is every birth educator's worse nightmare and one that I pray would never happen when I teach! Mr Gaiman, famous for his graphic and sometimes gory descriptions in his books, actually turned greenly squeamish when that happened.

The hour-long dialogue with Gaiman went by too fast, went everywhere (from movies to books, to his personal life) and I think we all wish it could have lasted longer. But no, there was another queue to be formed and autographs to sign. So even before the man finished his last sentence, we were already tense in our chairs, ready to spring out the nearest exit. In our case, being in prime front row seats, the exit nearest the Arts House was right next to us. Yay yay yay!!!

Then Gaiman got up to leave and so did we. We didn't even wait for the man to get off stage, just sprinted out the door, down and helter-skelter over the green lawn to skid to a halt where (impossibly so!) a queue had already formed. Still we were the lucky ones and got in where the queue was just beginning. Later, we saw that the queue had stretched all the way to the Singapore River! Had Wanida not saved us those prime seats, God knows how long Isaac and I would have had to queue.

Spent a lovely couple of minutes deciding WHICH book to let the man sign. We were initially told to bring only two items. But on that day, due to the sheer crowd size, signing was limited to ticket-holders only and then, only ONE item. The Graveyard Book was clearly one of them. My other favourite, Smoke and Mirrors had gone missing, to my frustration. I could not find it and figured I must have lent it to someone - mum or Gayle perhaps? After some deliberation, we decided on Neverwhere being the other book for the man to sign.

All too soon, my queue kakis and I reached the table where the man was seated. Wanida brought a cutting of Janice's column in ST. The longer version of the article can be found here in Janice's blog. My queue kakis and I had honorable mentions in it. So Wanida had brought it along and gotten Janice to sign. Mr Gaiman also signed on it - a huge signature. And gave Janice a hug - lucky woman!

picture by Kymberly Huang

A picture of all my queue kakis. I am not in the picture. This is because Mr Gaiman is looking at ME and signing my book. Yes, I am the unseen one right in front of him. Haha!

Here he is, signing me books!!! For the record, he drew two tombstones with our names on it and a moon on The Graveyard Book and on Neverwhere, he wrote "Mind The Gap!"

Having a very brief chat with Gaiman while he signs away. I asked if we would ever find out what happens to Bod after he left the cemetery. Gaiman smiled and said it is very likely that we would. It would not be a Graveyard Book part 2 but one where we will learn more about Silas and the underworld and so on. I said we would look forward to that! Can't wait to get hold of that when it comes out.

And finally, here we all are with Gaiman still busy signing in the background (except Xuemei who is still a little further behind in the queue) clutching our signed books and graphic novels and newspaper article. The line that we started on 26 Sept has come full circle. This is what I like about life - surprises, coincidences, serendipity, synchronicity, fate... whatever you choose to call it. Who knew what a queue could bring? I know this for sure, the next time Gaiman is in town, my queue buddies and I will reunite. And in the meantime, there is always email, facebook and visits (to Kyoto perhaps?) to keep the Gaiman link going.

Dad's latest CT scan shows pancreatic abscess. The ascitic fluid shows that one of the pseudo cysts had burst, hence the muddy Milo water.

The doc has said that surgery is definitely on, it's only a question of timing. The aim is to clean up the peritoneal area to prevent infection, remove the gall bladder, open up the pseudocyst into the stomach, allowing the contents to drain from there, cleaning up the pancreatic abscesses.

From what I have read, the surgery itself is not quite the issue. It's what would happen AFTER surgery that is the issue. The risks of morbidity are high - as much as 30%. Doc has also acknowledged his reluctance to send dad for surgery since it would be akin to "taking one step back" since dad looks better after being on TPN. But reluctant though he may be, he said surgery is definitely a necessity, not an option anymore. He also warned us that dad will be "very very sick" after surgery so we have to be prepared for that.

By his reckoning, it looks like surgery will likely take place either end this week, or early next week.

I feel like we are all on tenterhooks here. I wish it would be resolved soon - one way or the other.

So to continue with the updates, so far dad has been taken off the pee catheter and has one Coop loop removed. That's the good news. The bad news is that his gout has come back and his blood sugar is high, hence the need for insulin jabs. Its the price to pay for TPN I suppose. More than ever before, I am amazed at how complex our body systems are and how much delicate balancing goes on in there everyday to keep the engines running well.

He seems more lucid than before, at least his hallucinations seem to be less frequent. Although just the other day, my sister had to leave the room in paroxysms of laughter because he and I were having a bizarre conversation about "blow-drying" Gillian's faulty high-tech phone gizmo. He said we should open the back, blow dry with a hairdryer and then put it back and no need to physically "rewind the tape". I figured that when dad was delusional, its best to just humour the guy and play along.

On his good days though, he can have a sense of humour with funny asides to our conversations. On his bad days, he becomes delusional. If he is not delusional, then he would be lucid enough to snap at mom, be petulant with everyone and lay the guilt trip on real thick and generally just be cuttingly unpleasant. He may be my dad and he may be ill but honestly, there are times when I wish I could give him a good hard shake! But since I can't do that, I have resorted to cutting short a visit or leaving the room.

I find that if I take breaks between visits, eg visit on alternate days, I am better able to take his orneriness. But poor mom, who comes everyday, twice a day and stays for hours at his bedside. She takes the brunt of it. My heart aches for this. So I aim to do what I can. On weekdays, I like to whisk her home early on the days I visit. Or go in her place so she gets a break.

But the star of the "getting mom to take a break campaign" is really my sister Vi. I really like it when Vi comes from KL and I really miss her when she goes home because Vi's brisk, no-nonsense personality being such, she is able to bully/frogmarch mom to get a break and always gruffly mollycoddles us. She spoils us to the extent that I feel bad that our roles are reversed - she is my kid sister taking care of her big sister, me. Yet, it's so nice to be taken care of and I love that she's such a breath of fresh air in all this. Her strength is so vast, so unflinchingly loyal and so steadfast that I always feel comforted and safe when she's around and I'm sure mom feels the same. You reading this my ONLY sister?? :-)

With this whole episode, I guess I learned that God does not work in meaningless ways. Of course not. Despite the bad, there are always slivers of good mixed in there. We just got to find them, even though it may seem like we are searching for needles in a haystack, and then be thankful when we do.

So MOH has once again come out to say that there is no connection between autism and vaccines. Obviously whatever has been said before might not really be convincing to parents who believe otherwise.

Serendipity strikes my life yet again.

1) A letter from the school about Owain's orientation requested the following items - a vaccination cert (which I do not have), the BCG vaccination card (which I also do not have and did not know they even issued one these days!) and finally, his health booklet (of which his listed vaccinations to date number only ONE!)

2) Prevnar has officially been included in the childhood immunisations schedule for Singapore. To make it 'easier' for parents to vaccinate their children, parents can use their Baby Bonus and Medisave. Looks like MOH finally caved in to Big Pharma - they had previously stood firm on not including it into the schedule citing the low incidence of cases here, and low mortality rate thanks to our efficient healthcare and high hygiene/sanitation levels. So between then and now, what has really changed? In my opinion, nothing really. Big Pharma just got more effective at lobbying. Newspaper articles citing doctor's comments also do not impress me. They are still singing the same tune "more convenient for parents to vaccinate babies during well-baby checks" etc.

Again, no one seems to be addressing, or scrutinising the safety issue.

In Saturday's edition of ST, there was an article decrying the use of animal cells in treatments for humans. The writer deplored the use of animal cells, basically saying that this is unproven science, warning about the risk of exo-viruses which could exist in these animal cells and then potentially alter the very DNA in our system. And so on it went. I just want to know why there is such a hue and cry when animal cells have been used to culture vaccines and these are then injected into the immature immune systems of young babies? Bovine cells, sheep cells, simian cells have all been used at one point or another. SV40, identified from cultures of rhesus monkey cells was found to have contaminated one version of the polio vaccine. I won't go into the details of the SV40 debacle, just google it. But the point is, animal cells have been used for decades in vaccines. There are and have been no long term studies to demonstrate safety at all. If we're making a big noise about sheep cells injected for someone's vanity, I'd like to ask why no one is questioning the use of animal cells in vaccine cultures?

So anyway, the interesting events continue to unfold. A letter to the ST Forum recently asks a few pertinent questions, namely:

1) how much adjuvants are given to children in the form of aluminium and mercury salts in vaccines, besides preservatives, over a two-year period, under the Ministry of Health (MOH) childhood immunisation programme. Scientists have shown that aluminium and mercury are foreign to our biological system and do more harm than good.

2) Does MOH have a register of all complications related to childhood vaccines given in Singapore?

3) In a 2007 clinical study of 300 babies aged between nine and 12 months at five SingHealth polyclinics, what was the adverse complication rate and the severity, in terms of morbidity and mortality? Are these babies followed up long-term and for how long?

All great points and I'm glad someone is asking. But behold the official reply:

"...vaccines used here have been approved by the Health Sciences Authority and are deemed safe for the intended use by the general population. Side effects are usually mild, like a sore arm or a slight fever. Serious allergic reactions are very rare.

As for Mr Tan's concerns about autism and vaccination, there is strong scientific evidence to show that there is no link between vaccines and autism. This view is shared by the health authorities in the United States, Britain and the World Health Organisation. Independent reviews by the Cochrane Collaboration and the US Institute of Medicine have also come to the same conclusion."

Okay first, no one said anything about linking with autism. Methinks the official version doth protest too much. Second, the official reply does not answer any of the questions. At all. I too, would like to know - are there records and stats kept of children who have been diagnosed with some form of learning disorder over the years? This includes autism as well as other disorders. Does anyone track if the rise of these disorders are in tandem with the rise in the number of vaccines?

Not as far as I know.

I don't know if vaccines cause learning disorders or autism. I DO believe that these are on the rise. And if they are, perhaps something ought to be done to find out why. Rather than just brushing off the concerns of parents over vaccines, I think authorities worldwide ought to be trying to find out exactly why or what is really causing this increase. That would probably do much more in allaying fears instead of just the reflexive reply that vaccines are 'safe'. Show me how they are and I might be willing to believe you. But until then, you cannot blame parents for being sceptical. After all, when push comes to shove and a child develops a learning disorder, it is the parents who bear the burden and the grief. Not governments and not Big Pharma.

Update on dad's condition.

Over the last weekend, several things happened. First, the doctors have determined that dad's ascites is a case of pancreatic ascites - a rare complication of pancreatitis. What this means is that the pseudocyst the doctors have been hoping would mature, has erupted and pancreatic fluid is now leaked into the peritoneal cavity. Hence the swelling. The second Coop loop placed beneath his umbilicus has been draining very little water but whatever is coming out looks dark brown - muddy water. In contrast, the other Coop loop in his side is draining clear yellow fluid - normal ascites.

A test of the muddy waters show high levels of pancreatic enzymes - hence the conclusion that this is pancreatic ascites. To rest the gut and avoid stimulating further release of the pancreatic enzymes, dad is now put on TPN - Total Parenteral Nutrition. Basically this means he does not get to eat or drink anything orally. A special team of nurses and doctors will put together a unique formulation of nutrients (amino acids, lipids, vitamins, minerals etc) that will be tailored to his daily requirements and this will go in via the PICC line. Meanwhile, he will continue with strong antibiotics which we hope will prevent infection from setting in. He will also be watched for any signs of a fever.

If there are signs of infection, surgery will look very likely. The hope is that the TPN will bulk dad up and give him the reserves he needs to come out of surgery strongly.

With the TPN in place over the past two days, we have noted that dad looks stronger these days and he is trying very hard to co-operate eg sitting out in the chair for long periods etc. In the past dad was so frail that four people were needed to get him off the bed and settled into the chair. Now, he only needs the help of one nurse since he is strong enough to stand momentarily by himself. So we are happy that the TPN seems to be working.

We get good days and we get bad days. On Sat when I was with him, he threw up a copious amount of brown/yellow fluid - water very likely, since I was giving him ice cubes before that. Looked very much like the Merlion to me! Okay, very ugh factor but it went all over my hand, his pjs, the bed etc. Very icky. The nurse had to change everything. Hopefully the vomiting would be an isolated one-off incident. We were worried that it was a sign that his gut was not doing well.

Gillian went to see him on Thurs after her exams and mom said he had such a big broad grin on his face when he saw her that mom went all teary. Gill thanked him for the handphone he bought her. He had bought it for her the day before he was first admitted and so never had the chance to give it to her. So mum thought it best to give the phone to her so that she could still thank dad while he was lucid. Gill was always his favourite and he really spoils her rotten sometimes, so it was understandable that he was so happy to see her.

With Gillian eliciting such a good response from dad, I am toying with the idea of bringing Trin to see him. My only worry is that Trin may jump on his bed, play with his tubes etc!

We take each day as it comes. I am still half-hearted about Japan. But I know KH wants to go. I think my sister has also pretty much pulled out already. Which in a way, frees me to go because I know she will be there for mom and mom will not be alone. But at the same time, I feel bad about not pulling my weight. It was the same the last time we went to Japan. I guess I will have to continue to sleep on it and keep praying for a direction.

Incidentally, I no longer see porridge, Milo and milkshakes in the same way. After taking care of some of dad's meals - blending porridge, mixing the Propass with Milo, giving the Resource etc, I think I can swear off fish porridge and milk shakes for a long long time. I used to like porridge - one of my favourite foods - but these days, ugh... no. It just reminds me too much of dad's diet before the TPN...

Thanks everyone for all your thoughts and prayers. It is certainly not easy to see someone you love slowly wasting away.

Last night I was with mom in the hospital and we spoke to the senior consultant treating dad. Dr C was very frank and while he remained optimistic, I think we know just how risky everything is at this point. Everything that can be done medically, is already being done. Right now, dad is being sustained just by drugs alone. But come a day when the drugs no longer work, and according to the doctor, that day is not long in coming, then surgery will have to be considered.

Surgery is the last resort and Dr C was honest in telling us that surgery is "very very hard". The risks for complications and mortality would be very very high then. He is in fact, trying to hold off surgery for as long as he can. Given dad's age, failing condition of his organs etc, it would not be easy to get past.

Dr has said that they will try their best to resolve the ascites in the abdomen but if they can't, then surgery looks increasingly likely. Also, the water in the lungs may require a tube in there to drain.

I said it is hard watching dad be like this. It is ten thousand times harder for mom than it is for me. All this time, I have not really written about how I feel, just logged about his condition and progress. I try to keep things matter-of-fact. But so many weeks on, I think I just need to say a bit about how I feel now. And if this is how I feel, I dare not imagine what mum is going through.

Watching all this happen, I can understand why some people go for euthanasia. I don't condone this but I can understand. If ever I am in such a condition, please, just shoot me already. Just bring me out to an empty field and shoot me in the head. I would hate to go through what dad has gone through. I think he has been incredibly brave to go through all this and part of me feels so bad to let him go through all this. It has crossed my mind, controversially, would it be better to let him go gently or do so many interventions? To what end all these when the situation looks so damn grim? I know that to say this makes me look like a heartless b*tch who would rather stand by and watch her father die. But this is how I feel sometimes. Then, when he has better days, I chastise myself and think oh well, he is not going that soon so why am I being so pessimistic?

When I am with dad alone, sometimes his breathing is so shallow that I have to strain to listen to it. At times, I would actually stop, go near and check if he was still breathing. And terribly so, I pray, please God, if you have to take him, let it not be on my watch. I would not know what to do. But when I talked to mom about it, she said, it is a blessing to be the one to watch the ships sail out. At least he would not go alone.

When I try to talk about all this, sometimes people tell me I am being premature, or I am chastised for not being hopeful or positive. It is not something we like to talk about. So the only way I can get this off my chest is to spill my guts here. It is just the way I feel - sad, angry, frustrated, conflicted, anguished.

Everybody is praying for us to be strong, or praying for dad to pull through. I just want him and us to be at peace again. I just want it all to go away - my bit of denial perhaps. I just wish it all did not happen. That today, dad would pick up Caitlin from home and send her to gym as usual, then head off to Whampoa for his chess games, that we are carrying on with life and looking forward to Japan and so on. Pity that denial does not become fact. Life does not work that way.

What a big cross dad is carrying now. So is mum. They are - we all are - suffering in our own private ways. The path is ever twisting and dimly lit and there are shadows at every turn. I know where this is all going to end. But nevertheless, we just have to walk it together. This is the part of life's journey. Painful and scary though it is, we just have to walk it to the very end.

Reading Brain Rules at the moment. I'm still in the early pages but its given me some fascinating insight into how the brain works and the little that we actually do know about it. Very easy to read and digest with very little technical jargon.

Found it interesting, for instance, to read about how everyone's brain is wired differently when it comes to language. We all think there is a specific lobe of the brain that is dedicated to language rules - but there isn't.

The writer gives a fascinating example of a neurologist who was performing open brain surgery on a girl who was still awake but sedated. He would gently touch one part of the exposed brain with an electrode and she would respond - sometimes it could be a sensation she felt or an image that flashed across her consciousness etc. Her responses varied depending on where he touched.

The doctor was literally mapping her brain with tiny bits of white paper, tracing where certain functions are stored before actually going ahead with surgery. Apparently despite the many patients he has worked with like this, he has never really found 2 similar maps where language is found. Everyone stores language in different ways and in different parts of the brain. Which might explain why someone like Trin might be able to have a very good working memory, is able to hear and understand what we say but unable to join the dots and articulate her sentences correctly or coherently as the other average 3 to 4 year olds.

Anyway, I'm still pretty slow with the book since I am also balancing other books eg travel research, comfort reading (eg my trusty James Herriot and Georgette Heyer favourites that I would revisit whenever the right mood hit), non-fiction essays on Japan, cat psychology and other odds and ends.

The writer of Brain Rules has a website which also looks interesting so if you're not inclined to pick up his book, hop over to the website. There are fascinating small snippets of factoids there that you might find interesting.

Dad's not getting any better. In fact, he is getting worse. Slowly, day by day, his condition deteriorates.

He has been in the hospital for 6 weeks already? I am not sure. Losing count.

Right now, he is unable to eat well because his abdomen is so badly bloated and because he gets so exhausted just swallowing. His breathing is shallow and laboured. His albumin levels are so low that he has required several transfusions of albumin but they seem to be not very effective. His muscles are wasted from the lack of food and activity since he can only stay in bed and not move. He used to be able to walk from his bed to the door, but he no longer can. The most he can do is sit out in a chair and even then, not for very long.

Because he lacks activity, there seems to be already some fluid accumulated in his lungs. So his breathing is difficult and his lungs seem clogged with phlegm. He can't eat solids so mum has taken to blending his food but even then, he can't get past more than a couple of spoonfuls. To get enough protein in him, he is now drinking a liquid diet of protein drinks and diabetic drinks.

To relieve his badly distended belly, they have resorted to putting a permanent 'tap', as in a catheter to drain the fluids. Disappointingly, not much has come out. In some patients, as much as 5 to 10 litres may be drained but in dad's case, it was only about 100ml! They are now going to 'tap' the left side and hopefully more fluid will come out. He is already on furosemide and spirolactone to help get the water out but this does not seem to be working.

Sadly, dad has also lapsed into some form of disorientation and confusion. He seems to stare fixedly at a point in the ceiling sometimes and he talks about weird, irrelevant things. He seems a bit delusional at times. We don't know why but think that maybe its due to the long hospital stay. Just yesterday he was talking about "magnetic prawns" and how expensive they are at $70 a kilo and he was also going on about "the red flower and the white flower bending to each other... and when they touch, they will be very powerful"!! sigh. Don't know whether to laugh or cry.

All this has been very very hard on my mother. She goes to see him everyday, twice a day. All this travelling, to-ing and fro-ing has been very tiring for her. To see him slowly deteriorate is also painful. These days she looks very drawn and tired and there is a pinched look about her face that was not there previously.

I've called MAS and asked about how we can go about recouping cost of the tickets if we had to postpone or cancel. It does not look good with dad these days and I would not rule out anything happening at this point. I don't want to leave my mom alone here to cope as well. If dad does pass away, I will drag her off to Japan for a change of scene. But if dad is still very sick, how can I leave her here to manage alone?

So while I would love to go to Japan, it might not be possible at this time...

Cotton On was selling these perky tanks with tulle wings. Thought Trin would look really cute in these. Especially in the pink tutu we bought from Malaysia. Tank was not very expensive at $12.95 each.

Ah birthday weekend rolls round again.

Started out great with about two hours of queuing in front of The Arts House for Neil Gaiman Meet-the-Author tix. It was a cloudy day but also a muggy one but the company in the queue made it fun and time just breezed by. The box office opened only at 11am but I arrived at 9.30am to find a queue already formed. Apparently the earliest arrived at 6.40am! I did toy with the idea of abandoning brekkie and coming earlier at 8.30am but decided I would not be so kiasu. Brekkie is too important to forgo!

Luckily I decided to pop in only at 9.30am because the timing allowed me to meet some really nice people that morning - all fellow Gaiman fans who were in the queue just before and after me. The five or six of them included a first-year NTU student from the Philippines, an animator and very talented illustrator, a civil servant from Mindef and a lady who works at Apple. All from very different walks of life but all Gaiman fans!

Among them was the ST editor who writes my favourite ST column "Letter from Kyoto". Sheer wonderful coincidence. Her columns are at times lively, funny, at times moving and lyrical. They always never fail to paint an evocative picture of life in Kyoto - life as I wish I could live over there. I always make it a point to read her column on Saturdays. So imagine my glee/shock when I realised that I was sitting right next to her in the queue!! Had to stop myself from gushing - very gauche!

KH was very nice. Apart from a roll of the eyes, he left me to queue but came back with a big brolly and a bottle of water. He disappeared again but returned later with a cup of icy Coke (bliss!) and newly cut hair! To kill time he had gone over to Funan Centre. Rather than abandon me to my own devices and go off to pick Owain up from Berries, he decided to stick around and wait till I had my tickets. We ended up picking up Owain quite late! Luckily the Berries folks were okay about it.

With such fun company, time just flew past. It paid off too - I got my pair of tickets for the Gaiman event! Yay!!! I plan to bring Isaac with me. The next fun bit is deciding which book/s to bring for The Autographs. Definitely on the list is The Graveyard Book and Smoke and Mirrors(which contains the short story which made me fall in love with Gaiman's writing. The story about the cat which protects its human family through horrific nightly battles with the devil was both gripping and moving. Now, everytime I see Tigerlily perched on the gatepost, I am reminded of that story). Isaac is equally a fan, ever since he read Stardust at P6 last year.

Birthday weekend was nice all round. Saturday night was spent on a somewhat late birthday date with KH at Samy's Curry at Dempsey after picking me up from the hospital at 8pm. The masala chicken was spot-on that night and we both ate too much but we had a nice time.

Birthday Sunday was well-spent with a dimsum brekkie at Red Star. Birthday luck must have been holding out since we got a table almost immediately after we joined the long queue for tables. Isaac later told me someone gave us the middle finger as we were called out of the queue by the maitre'd. Too happy to be angry at the sorry person with the narrow mind, so we just ignored and enjoyed the dimsum.

Dad in the hospital also looked better. He ate 2/3 of his porridge and was more chatty than I'd seen him in days, talking to Gillian about getting a better bowling ball and growling about the triads in the Bruce Lee Ch8 serial. While I was in the hospital, KH took the kids to the park.

When he picked us up, we went to Island Creamery for ice-cream instead of lunch. Went home happy but the kids got drilled in their work, mummy's birthday or not. While they were swotting, I had a nag-free 3 hours to watch Nodame Cantabile, J-drama I was curious about. Sushi was offered for dinner but declined in favour of comfort cooking - steamboat!

The night ended with my kids around me blowing out candles of my Awfully Chocolate brandy cherry cake - yum!

40 was not a bad year. Hopefully 41 would be equally good, if not better. Now I am well and truly over the 40th threshold!

Dad went home from hospital on Wed and promptly went back in on Friday. Like I said, one step forward, two steps back.

When he went in, his legs were swollen and according to my mom, his hypo count was so low, he was on the verge of a diabetic coma. When she brought him in, he was already slurring and his pupils fixed and staring. Since then the docs have put him back on antibiotics and a pee catheter to see how much he's passing out - which was not much until they gave him lasiks. He also had a blood transfusion on Sunday but his blood count remains low. He's also not eating much so we rejoice if he could even finish half to two-thirds of his food.

All signs point to the pancreas not working well, not healing as it should. With the second ultrasound already showing signs of necrosis, the slow deterioration is not a good sign.

I feel as if dad is just slowly fading. Oh sure, I should be optimistic, and I should have hope. Its not that I don't. But I also want to be realistic. I think they are busy just putting out fires as and when these appear and I wonder how long it would be sustainable and if this would be sustainable at home too - does not seem to be since he had to be re-admitted within days of discharge.

Its a long hard slog for anyone who comes down with pancreatitis. But given dad's age and other medical issues, its a harder slog for him and I don't think he would be ever as well as he used to be before this incident - if at all he makes it out of this one.

The night I got my JR passes, I prolonged the happy-Japanese mood by treating myself to a late dinner at Itacho in Ion.

I had:

Super-jumbo scallop sushi (looks obscenely huge, draping itself over the tiny ball of rice - but so sweet and delicious!)

Fatty tuna with spring onion 'warship' aka the usual negitoro gunkan (minced toro looked pale but tasted good. Would still prefer the negitoro at the usual Ichiban outlets)

California roll (nothing to shout home about but serviceable. Mayo dribbled on the outside instead of in the roll)

Some clam (okay, this is lame but I cannot for the life of me, remember the name of the this clam except that it is a seasonal dish. I liked it. The texture is not rubbery hard, firm to the bite and sweetish in taste)

Squid and mentaiko warship (hmm, not sure why they call this a warship. Squid was very soft, squishy soft and the mentaiko lent a good spicy kick)

And finally, the two stars of the day...

Wagyu beef sushi (my first time tasting wagyu beef, let alone raw and in sushi form. Famed for its generous marbling of fat, the wagyu was buttery and melt-in-the-mouth. There was only the teensiest whiff of gamey-meet, enough to remind you that this is raw beef. The taste was very rich and while I enjoyed it, I think it can never replace the otoro as the emperor)

Otoro sushi (I was in two minds over whether I should have this first or the wagyu but I was glad I kept this to the last. Lush slab with fat veining through the portion, it was heavenly. Everytime I eat otoro, instinctively my eyes would shut and all my tastebuds just go on wild red alert and the explosion of taste and texture that the otoro commands.)

Truly a satisfactory meal.

Itacho sells its sushi in single pieces so the prices can add up. However, prices for even the premium fish are very reasonable. The otoro and wagyu cost about $6 each. While one may gasp at $6 going down at one pop, bear in mind that most other places will sell otoro in a pair at $22 or more. The ikura warship that I did not order this round, was also reasonably priced at less than $3 a piece but in other places, eg the sushi chains, you're looking at $6+ for a double portion.

Given the quality of the fish and the portion (thick generous servings that drape - this is important! - over the rice) I think Itacho has proven to be good value so far. It seems to be mid-priced sushi that is a notch or so above the kaiten chains we have here. The selection of fish is pretty good and seems wider than what the chains offer, although these are generally the pricier cuts of fish. My grouse is that they offer wasabi in a paste - typical of mid to low-range sushi joints, but still a pity considering the sort of fish they have on the menu. But I guess I can understand too, after all they do not claim to be the high-end boutique sushi restaurants that offer only the best grated wasabi.

Its stalemate at the Riang corral yesterday.

The story goes back two weeks or so when we discovered Tigerlily missing one morning. KH followed the sound of her mews and found her caged and trapped in a steel cage in the neighbour's garden. There was much sound and fury that morning as we pleaded with the irate neighbour to release TL.

The man refused to do so claiming that TL had come in and peed/pooed on his backyard, ruining his tiny patch pearl grass. We peered over and true enough, there were brown patches where the cat's 'acidic' pee had seeped through. We could not say for sure if it was TL but the guy was adamant. He was furious and triumphant that he had caught TL. At one point, he sputtered, "Do you know how expensive it was to try to catch your cat? I had fresh fish in that cage for one and a half months and your cat did not take the bait!" Secretly, I was so proud of TL to evade capture for so long.

He wanted to send the cat away and initially refused to listen to any of our suggestions. We offered to train the cat - he scoffed: "Think so easy ah? Its not possible to train the cat!" And so on it went until he exhausted his fury. Can you imagine the scene. Both KH and I peering over the neighbour's fence in the alley behind our house, the shouting (mostly done by the old man and a fair bit by KH who was shirtless and thus had his love handle firmly in my pincer grip to prevent him from losing it and yelling his head off which would certainly have made things worse), the number of eyes that must have been watching from the various houses nearby etc.

Well we were both frantic with worry that the neighbour would not release TL, but finally he did. He gave us an unreasonable deadline of one week to train the cat. Which we said was impossible. But as I reasoned with him, at least give us time and a chance to try and do something about the situation. We gave him our phone numbers so that he could call us if TL did the naughty again and we also offered to send a gardener to patch the 'holes' in his yard. He was finally mollified enough to release the cat to us.

That episode resulted in many emails to cat-loving friends and contacts to seek advice. That very day, we closed up the whole house and left TL inside - and us sweating it out in the enclosed heat. We dared not open any window/door in case she escaped. I went straight out to buy a big kitty litter for her. Back home, I dribbled some catnip in front of the litter to entice her. TL launched herself on the catnip like an addict to marijuana! Following that, she immediately sniffed the brand new litter, cautiously went in to check it out and promptly did a pee/poo job in there! The kids and I stood there and applauded!

But after two days of stuffiness in a closed-up house, we decided to let her loose in the day. After that, came two instances where we received calls from the neighbour and Lolita had to be sent behind to his home to pick up her poo. So we fine-tuned the strategy by keeping her in for a lot longer in the morning - instead of letting her out at 6am when the doors are opened, we seal up the house until 9am when its bright. We are hoping she would not do the poo/pee in the bright open day and would use her litter box before she went out. We're not too worried about the rest of the day because cats generally sleep 80% of the time and TL is no exception. In the day, she can mostly be found on one of our beds, soundly snoozing away. It is the early morning and night hours, under the cover of darkness, that we worry about. So by adjusting the time we free her, we hope she will also adjust her pee/poo patterns.

So far so good. The neighbour has not complained in the past few days.

Yesterday the gardener also came and patched up his yard. The neighbour was a lot warmer and more conciliatory in his tone. We stood and made small talk in his yard while the gardener did the repair work. I was 'graciously' allowed in via the back gate! He even apologised for being "too harsh" on us and made jokes about "building a toilet" in his backyard for the cat. Since the gardener was there and had extra patches of grass, we instructed him to also patch up the areas which looked patchy but were not the cat's doing. I think the neighbour was pleased at our gesture.

I think it was just important to be seen as trying our best to solve the problem.

We will do what we can, eg adjusting the time we open up the house in the morning, buying a Cat Stop for the neighbour's garden, and keep making adjustments. I think the neighbour is aware that we are trying and I think he not unsympathetic. So for now, we have truce going on - hopefully it will last.

However we know that we are lucky this time to be able to find TL in time. We don't know where TL wanders and who knows, there might be a neighbour somewhere who might trap her and we would never even be the wiser. My aunt who lived in landed property and had outdoor cats too, told us that after a while, she became resigned to the fact that some cats would never come home - probably because they were trapped and sent away or killed by cat-hating neighbours.

My cat-loving friends also warned me about this - legally, these people have the right to trap cats if the cats go onto their property, hence it is best to keep her indoors - which both KH and I baulk at. We cannot shut up the whole house indefinitely. The very nature of our house makes this very hard. We have many large windows and the design of the house facilitates a lot of ventilation and wind. To keep the cat indoors would mean massive 'fencing' up of windows, installing screen doors etc at considerable expense and affecting the overall look and feel of the house. I would hate being 'fenced' in like this. For now, this is not on the table. We will try other ways first.

On the hospital front, dad is doing much better. I think he can go home soon. I see this as a mixed blessing.

While we're glad he's well enough to go home, I feel sorry for my mom. Dad has regressed to infancy over the past few weeks. Tantrums, sulks and a general reluctance to do anything for himself. Poor mom has bent over backwards to visit him twice a day, cooking porridge and soups and trudging up and down the SGH hills to bring them to him for lunch and for dinner. She's there to feed him, wipe him, bring him to the toilet, encourage him to ambulate etc. She gets flak from him, tantrums, point-blank refusals to co-operate etc. She's worn out even though she puts on her usual tough "I-can-handle-it" veneer.

So yesterday I told her to stay home. I would handle his dinner. So with KH in tow, we headed for the hospital. Not to my surprise, dad behaved himself. He fed himself, went to the toilet instead of using a commode to relieve himself, and like a good boy, obediently sat in the arm chair for about 10 to 15min instead of constantly lying in bed. With great satisfaction, I reported this to my mom. I think he acts up because it is her and he presses all her buttons very easily. Plus she lets him!

Hopefully when he goes home, he will try to be more mobile and will co-operate with mom. I worry about the load on her once he gets home. Mom will be his private nurse 24/7. That can't be good for her. Will have to think of solutions when the time comes.

The Breastfeeding Crazy Lady strikes (BCL) again.

Was in NTUC last night grocery shopping when a woman approached me in the baby section. Going by accent alone, she seemed like a Chinese national.

"Excuse me miss, can you tell me which brand is better for newborns?" she asked, brandishing a can of formula and nodding towards the shelves.

"None," says the BCL promptly. "Breast is best."

"But there isn't enough breastmilk," she replied and then waves towards the shelves again. "Which brand is better?"

"None. They are all the same." I was going to add my usual rant and spiel about how these money-grubbing companies use inferior products, slap fancy marketing and artificial hormones and additives in their ever pathetic bids to mimic nature's food for babies, but sadly, I was hampered by the woefully teensy Chinese vocab I have.

"Really," I gave a last-ditch attempt. "You should try again at feeding breastmilk. It really is what babies need."

Whereupon she gave me the look others usually give the BCL and other assortment of crazies, blinked and turned away. How rude. Not even a thank you. Too bad. There goes 10 IQ points down the drain. I actually wanted to dig out my handphone and give her the nearest LC's number but the cold shoulder and frigid temperatures now emanating from her told me that it would not be wise.

Standing far enough to distance himself from any hint of relationship with the BCL, KH sniggered. This morning in the car, he asked me what last night's encounter was all about. So he got my pent-up earful of a BCL rant instead!

I thought about it. Was I really not helpful? In such a situation, would it not be more polite to just point in one direction instead of pushing the breastfeeding issue? Could the BCL not have opened her mouth? Or could she have said it differently? But in all good conscience, I really could not recommend any brand. I WAS telling the truth - none were good. I did not know of any brand of formula that was 'superior'.

Oh well, I guess to the general public, I really come across as a BCL. Difference is, I am a trained BCL! Haha. I know I didn't do it deliberately to press her buttons or to belittle her choices. I told the truth to the best of my knowledge. After reading so much about breastfeeding and formula over the years and in the course of my studies as a birth educator, I guess my knowledge of breastfeeding, breastmilk and formula runs deeper than the average Jane out there. Ironic then, that all this knowledge is just sharply distilled into one line and a two-minute encounter between the shelves of a supermarket.

Sigh. I really should brush up on my Chinese. Who knows when the BCL will get another opportunity to come forth?

Pictures from Cait's dance fest at CHIJ Toa Payoh fest.

This is Caitlin with her friends just before the performance. Daddy was going around taking pictures unlike the other parents who obediently sat in the audience.

No video because the' videographer' (aka Gillian!)had a bad case of the shakes so the video ended up very shaky and blur!

Updating on my love for all things Korean...

I've got some K-drama withdrawal symptoms. Finished watching Terroir with the dishy Kim Joo Hyuk as male lead. Yummy! I really like these strong/silent/'masterful' characters. Sadist that I am, I think he's drool-worthy even when he's being mean and nasty to his leading lady Han Hye Jin - whom I didn't really like. Terroir was not bad - although, for something that cost US$6mil to produce though, its low ratings proved to be a real disappointment. Still, I enjoyed the scenes of the lovely French chateaus and countryside. Never was a fan of wine since half a glass will leave me red in the face and slurry already, but this series did perk up my interest.

Now that its over and the OST is downloaded and on permanent repeat in my Zen, I'm chaffing at the bit and wondering what's next. Terroir debuted in Korea late last year, or early this year but it took them this long to get the dvds out here! Looking at TS and Poh Kim, I wonder why they do not move faster to bring in K-dramas earlier and expand their range wider. The answer to that, someone told me, is that only a country bumpkin like me would still watch K-dramas on DVDs. The rest of the civilised world, I was told, has moved on to watch anything and everything under the sun on the internet via highspeed broadband connections!

So I tried hopping to Mysoju once in a while when the urge to catch up with hit K-dramas like City Hall or My Fair Lady hit me. But I have to say that watching dramas in 15min interrupted spurts is really exasperating at the best of times. Plus there are links that might not work and the small screen size really puts me off.

To ease my withdrawal symptoms - general restlessness, insomnia and OD-ing on the dramabeans blog - I am re-watching Delightful Girl Chun Hyang which was what got me hooked on the K-bandwagon in the first place. Happy to say that I still love it! And my expanded Korean vocab (thanks to my songsenim in Korean class!) helps me understand and appreciate it even more. Even K-pop is becoming a bit clearer to me now. Like jigsaws, the bare minimum I have in terms of vocab is helping me piece together a bit more of the picture but there's still much more to learn. Still I am happier with the tiny bits of revelation I get these days when it dawns on me with eureka moments - "Hey, I think I know what she's singing about - ka jok means family! Something about family! Yay!"

I've finished Korean stage 1 already but don't know if I should go for stage 2 since the Japan trip is coming up and I'm likely to miss at least 3 lessons already like this.

Korean stage 1 was interesting. We are taught formal Korean (songsenim says a foundation of formal Korean makes it easier to learn banmal later on) and I can now read and speak simple sentences. VERY simple sentences! Gillian usually hogs my notes when I come back from a class so she's also learning and we do trade simple - VERY simple! - sentences once in a while. In the long run, I think I am likely to take Korean further than the dabbling I've done in other languages like French (never moved beyond stage 1 elementary french) and Italian or Japanese.
Hopefully one day I'll be able to watch a full K-drama without any subtitles!

Cait called me in the office yesterday. A bit shyly, she told me that she got her results from the UNSW International Competitions and Assessments for Schools. A month or so ago, she was shortlisted to take part in the UNSW ICAS Writing test. Yesterday the results came.

Cait got a Distinction! She is in the top 3% of the Singaporean cohort of P2 kids who took the test.

We were equally thrilled and shared her joy. KH and I are very proud of her. Sushi was our dinner treat to celebrate - just her, KH and I.

Today will see another milestone in the year - the CHIJ Dance Fest Viva Spiritus. P2 girls will put up dance performances for their parents. Cait has been very vague about the performance but we know that it is a Broadway number and the song is New York, New York. Complete with top hat - very Liza Minnelli! As was the case last year, she's told us that she's one of the five 'lead' dancers in the front. Having seen what she could do last year, KH and I are both looking forward to seeing her perform later.

We're marking the second week that dad is in the hospital. He is out of the high dependency ward now and has had his tubes and lines taken out. He is more or less pain-free and is able to eat and drink lightly. His output has gone up significantly and his creatinine levels have come down. He has even taken a bath!

We're happy with whatever progress we can get but he is not out of the woods yet, not by a long shot. It really looks to me like we're taking one step forward and two steps back. While he is no longer in High Dependency, his recovery is extremely slow. His stomach remains bloated and the bloat has gone to his arms and hands so much that it is hard to even find a vein these days.

Another scan two days ago showed that his pancreatic situation has worsened than when he was admitted. There is a lot of fluid accumulation and parts of the pancreas are now showing signs of necrosis. His air entry into his lower lungs is also poor and they look like they are on the verge of collapse. He is now running a fever and coughing, all not good signs for his lungs. We worry about both the necrosis in the pancreas and the likelihood of pneumonia as exacerbating factor.

The docs have given him a PICC line because they can't find a vein anywhere else thanks to the bloat! He has to be given intravenous antiobiotics thrice a day to help stem infection in the pancreas. He has to ambulate, move around, sit out of bed etc to improve air entry into the lungs. But our friend is very stubbon, highly recalcitrant and would not, flatly refuses to do all this. We do understand why - he looks extremely tired and even that bath that day exhausted him so much he broke out in cold sweat from the effort. But its really a Catch 22 situation we're facing here.

Thanks to the second CT scan the dye, we're back to again scrutinising pee output and creatinine levels, hoping the kidneys would be able to withstand the insult from the dye. Thus far, he is peeing but output has again dwindled.

Two days ago when I visited him, he asked me to get Coke Zero for him! "Dad," I told him in exasperation, "even if YOU don't care, I don't want my head chopped by the doctors you know!"

Pursed his lips, sighed, looked upwards and basically just pressed all my guilt buttons. Finally I said I'd take a look at the ward vending machine. Nada. Triumphantly I told him they don't sell Coke Zero in the ward! But he looked so resigned and disappointed that I said I'd get him some the next day I came, but I would be the one to regulate how much he drank.

Next day I came, I brandished the Coke happily and poured out a smidgen for him. He was happy to just have that sip. And while I know Coke is not the best thing for him now, it is what he wants and one or two sips should not make a difference. Not when the man is already quaffing down cups of teh-O! Also, to be honest, I really don't know what's going to happen with dad. I don't know if he will get better or if he will leave us. It could go either way at this point. But I figure that one or two sips won't kill (there's enough going on inside him that will do that easily enough!) but if it is what he wants, and it makes him happy, why not? Maybe that is really what is important right now. Depressing thought though it may be, it might be one of the last few things that I might do for him. And morbid though it is, I think I do understand where dad is coming from. Life is short and at this point, it looks shorter than it ever has, so if I were in dad's shoes, I would also want to be comfortable and do the little things that make me happy - like having an illicit sip or two of Coke.

I've been giving Owain pocket money since about a week ago. 50 cents a day. I thought it would help him learn a bit more about money, managing this small amount. He could either save it or use it to buy snacks and 'ice pops' from the nearby minimart.

Since then, he has been badgering me daily for his allowance. To the point that it gets really annoying sometimes. Case in point: I was in the car this morning on the way to work. Its 8am and our friend calls me on the phone. Still sounding sleepy from sleep, he goes: mummy, 50 cents.

That's not the worst. Sometimes he asks for 'advances' so that he can go buy 'yoghurt drink' which costs about a dollar. When I say no, he pesters and whines. Also, he's taken to 'betting' with me when I'm playing computer games. He'll wander past the PC and say: Mum, I bet you $1 you won't get past this round! Not the best thing to say to someone who's already gritting teeth, wild-eyed and frantically clicking away to clear a round. And he says this when its really clear I AM not going to make it past the round!

I've explained to him about saving and trying to persuade him to save but the advice has largely fallen on deaf ears. Instant gratification wins hands down. To incentivise it further, I offered 'interest', better than any bank can offer today - 20 cents for every dollar saved. But even that does not attract him.

He's quite savvy with money, able to add, subtract easily. We play Earthopoly and he's got no problems buying, selling properties, counting out his money accurately etc.

KH is thrilled that his son has dollar signs for eyes. He's always egging his sons on to be entrepreneurial but Isaac has turned out to be the risk-averse, kiasu bookworm, disappointing in the risk/entrepreneurial department but Owain has shown signs of promise. He's been that way since he was 4. I still remember that afternoon in Osaka two years ago when our little friend was busy picking up 'berries' from the ground with the intent to sell them back in Singapore because we don't have these berries in Singapore. When I teasingly pointed out that he won't be able to make any more money once his stocks run out, he said we'd just have to bring back the berries to grow them then!

And one more incident (unrelated) to share about Owain: I was having a tense moment during a game of Zuma when he came over and asked me to play Earthopoly with him. Distractedly, I asked: why would I want to do that when I can play Zuma right here. He said, very indignantly," Because I am YOUR son!!!"

That got my attention alright and we played earthopoly when I finally managed to stop laughing.

Taking a break from the hospital updates, I just want to say that I was thrilled to find new sources of my favourite gourmet ham and sausages aside from the usual gourmet supermarkets.

Deep in the heart of Jurong factoryland, there are two factories or wholesalers selling imported foodstuff at prices which are about 30 to 40% lower than supermarket prices. In QB Foods, a packet of bratwursts cost $7.50. I found the same packet selling for $11.50 at Cold Storage. Parma ham, one of my favourite indulgences, was going at $7.50 for 100gms. In Cold Storage, this was going for $9.43 per 100gms. So needless to say, I bought loads of sausages - cheese sausages, brats, gourmet organic sausages, hashbrowns, french fries, chicken nuggets - yummy!

Across the road, there is another wholesaler/factory that sells ham and sausages at low prices. My porridge brains desert me now and I can't remember the name of the place. But its directly opposite QB Foods. From the outside, it does not look like much and in fact, you would not know that you could buy direct from them. But on a hunch, I approached some workers and they told me to go up to the office. They have a list of stuff you can choose from.

So I bought a 550gm slab of champagne pate at $9.50 or something like that. In Cold Storage, the same pate was going for $4.60 or so per 100gms. I also bought sliced shoulder ham, 500gms for $5.00 and cocktail cheese sausages and shaved champagne ham. All for prices lower than the supermarket's.

I'm sure there are more of these factory outlets retailing food at lower, wholesale prices in the vicinity. I tried asking at the Meiji factory but was turned away at the gate by guards. We'll probably have to cruise the area and check it out one by one, grow a thick skin and ask at security posts if they "sell anything"!

Dad is still in the hospital on the DI List. Things are looking a bit better but its always a bit of a see-saw - creatinine levels go down and that's a good sign, but then calcium levels drop and that's worrying. Doctors are busy tweaking away.

Yesterday he took his meds like a good boy when I gave it to him, in contrast to the day before when he pursed his lips defiantly and gave us baleful looks. The pain seems to be a bit better controlled now that he's back under 24-hour morphine. The dose is super-low and he still complains of back pain though. He seems frustrated and who wouldn't be? Says he wants to go home. Or failing which, a hotel - heh, they've got better beds, he says. He still needs his backrubs and sleep is still elusive, so he has to get some help at night or he would be very restless. I feel sorry for the nurses - the guy keeps wanting to get out of bed. Or he's asking for The Pot every couple of hours - to get the nurses' attention, he puts his hand up as if in class! Nothing but gas comes out when he tries to poo but he still keeps asking. The other day he asked mom and I to shift him - he wanted to sleep at the foot of the bed! With all the tubes and wires running out of him!

His roomies in the Intermediate Care area have come and gone and he's the veteran tenant there at the moment. Its not the best place to rest since patients are moved in and out, monitors are beeping incessantly (and loudly!), patients are groaning, shifts change, nurses hand over reports, doctors move in and out and they talk to their patients as if they are hard of hearing (why DO doctors love to do this? They're ill, not deaf - someone should tell these doctors) and so on. The place can be busier and noisier than Orchard MRT station at lunch.

Overall, I think our mood has lightened. Dad is not out of the woods, far from it. But I think we feel more optimistic these days.

Dad's still not looking very good. We're all keeping fingers crossed. Doctors are doing all they can but are really busy putting out the fires here and there.

He's now transferred to the Intermediate Care area, a step down from ICU. Hoping they won't have to bring him down to ICU. His kidneys are not looking pretty at the moment and seem to be on strike. Honestly, the pancreatitis may have been the trigger but all the underlying stuff are just making the situation worse.

Yesterday I brought Gillian to see him. She just stood there and softly called him. I told her to take off her mask so he can see her. And you know, he just smiled the biggest smile I've seen since he got into hospital. She's his favourite. Ever since we camped with mom and dad while house-hunting 10 years ago and even before that, when we would make the daily circuit to drop her at mom's place and pick her up at the end of the day, dad was always so in love with her. He would bring her for walks round the neighbourhood in the stroller, carry her, swing her, play with her and in the later years when I got cranky with her, dad always stepped in to defend her.

When it came to her PSLE, he tried tutoring her (which brought back memories for me!) and although the methods have changed and Gillian is a worse goondu at maths than me, he tried his best to be patient. Probably he was more patient with her than he ever was with me! I still remember him chain-smoking through my P6 year at the dinner table drilling me in maths. Maths was never my strong point and these sessions must have stressed him as much as it did me! He used to scold me loudly: You gorblock! Well he gave up tutoring Gillian and we got her Aunty Diane to do this instead. But to me, it was his effort that counted and we really appreciated it.

Just before he was admitted to hospital, he had taken the train alone to Chinatown to buy a phone for her. Just because Isaac had one, he said she needed to have one too. So off he went to get one with all the bells and whistles for her. Mom told him to give it to her only after her exams or it will distract her from studying. But then the next day he collapsed.

You know, I am not very close to dad - and this probably stemmed all the way from when I was a kid. When I was young, I remember he always came home late, slept in on Sundays and so on. He loved his chess, billiards, bowling and while he signed report books, picked me up from my teen parties at midnight and gave the occasional thrashing, he was just... dad. We never really talked and I had remnants of fear and awe of him.

Haha, but I did get an A for Maths. Probably the first and last time I ever did!

In all honesty, I think he was a far better grandad than he was a dad - but I love him for this. I love him for loving all my children and taking such good care of them, patiently ferrying them here and there, buying them forbidden fruit, defending them when I rant and rave...

So yesterday, coming home from the hospital in the late afternoon after spending the whole morning there, I took a cab home. Could not face taking the shuttle service, the MRT and then trudging home. I was too tired. Funny how emotional fatigue can translate into physical fatigue! So I took a cab home. And in the cab, my tears just started to come. I could not stop them. My ducts had a life of their own and it just flowed. I scolded myself: hey, he's not gone yet you know! But bloody ducts just kept the tap turned on.

When I got home, the kids of course spotted my puffy eyes and started teasing me about it. Which made me wonder tiredly - why are kids sometimes so cruel and insensitive? They don't mean to be hurtful but this is their grandfather who is so sick. Don't they have any compassion? Don't they feel anything?

I sat down and yes, I cried in front of my children. They watched with fascinated horror. I didn't mean to do it but I guess I was still over-wrought from the cab ride. I explained to them why I was sad and reminded them how much granddad loved them all and how much he had done for them. And then Gillian teared up. And Caitlin too. Girls seemed to be more emo than the boys who just listened stoically.

So last night, when I went back to the hospital, Gillian came with me and KH. She barely spent five minutes with dad, so nervous about seeing all the tubes, monitors etc. KH gave dad a backrub, which I thought was so sweet of him since dad and he were never close and always had that gruff patina to their relationship.

I don't know if it is the sight of Gillian or not, but dad perked up. Enough to insist to the nurses that he wanted a drink and he wanted it NOW. He seemed more lucid and clear-minded than in previous days when he just drowsed in bed. When I left for the night, his output looked better than it had previously and he said he had no pain.

I was happy he had no pain since the doctors had removed the 24-hr morphine drip and are withholding pain meds. I know why the docs did that - they did not want to compound the problem with the kidneys by adding more and more drugs when his output was already so low. Meant that the drugs would just accumulate in him and with pethidine (yes he was given pethidine!) the risk of respiratory distress would be present. Yes, how well I know the risks of Pethidine. And ditto morphine too. But I really worried that dad would be in pain. I just wanted him kept comfortable. No matter the outcome, please don't let him be in pain. But it looked like this was not to be.

Early this morning, the doctors seemed pleased with the increase output and plans to hemodialyse in ICU are on hold for now, contingent upon his creatinine results. Phew! Fingers crossed that he does not have to do that. So everytime I pee these days, I pee 'for' dad and send God the thought - let the same amount come out from dad! LOL!

Okay summary of treatment thus far in short - yesterday they started a central line in the jugular (neck) and they also started an arterial line in his left hand. Hence the move up to Intermediate Care which was more able to do such monitoring. Until last night and this morning, his urine output remained poor despite the litres of fluid being pumped in. At one point, docs told us they had pumped in 4litres and only 1 litre was coming out! To get the water out of him, they are giving lasix to help him pee. He still looks very bloated and lots of water retention now seen in his face and arms, hands as well. But this morning docs reported that they are pleased becos he seems a tad less bloated today than yesterday.

The pain meds are off for now and dad seems uncomfortable this morning. But docs have stood firm on their reasons and will only give small boluses of Pethidine - 25mg (this morning, a teeny bit of morphine).

All other vital signs remain stable - BP stable, oxygen saturation also stable. We're only waiting for his bloodwork results to come back to see creatinine levels. Hopefully calcium levels (which were lowish yesterday) would have come up. Still no food and drink allowed, only sips of water and boy are the dragons in the ward super-strict and miserable with the amount they give! I know I know... good reasons why they are holding back. But I feel so sorry for poor dad whenever he asks for water. Seems so inhumane to withhold even water.

We are all hanging in there - thanks so much to some of you who wrote, left comments or called me. Writing about this helps me feel better and put things in perspective. Mom was a bit disapproving about all this going on my blog but to me, it helps me deal with it.

Yesterday afternoon I got a call from mom which began ominously: "I don't want you to worry but..."

Turns out that dad collapsed at home with severe abdominal pain and vomitting. Mom had to get an ambulance to get him to the hospital. As usual, the man was resisting the hospital but mom said he looked really bad so against his insistence that he can take the pain, mom sent him in.

I cleared my work and went to the hospital to be with mom. There was probably nothing I could do for him, but I didn't mom to wait alone in the hospital for hours.

By evening, they had transferred him to the High Dependency Ward. At 7pm the doctors came out and took us aside.

Dad is diagnosed with acute severe pancreatitis. In layman's terms, it just means that his pancreas is badly inflamed. Usually someone with a history of alcohol drinking or gallstone disease would be predisposed to this. In dad's case, he does not drink so we have narrowed this down to gallstones. Early scans however, showed no gallstone blockage.

The picture is not very pretty at the moment. Dad has elevated potassium levels, signalling that his heart is not doing very well. His blood pressure is also high at 160/100. Significantly, the doctor has said his kidneys are in a state of advanced impairment. The kidney specialist has been called in and dad may face long-term dialysis if he ever gets out of this one.

In short, the doctors have put him on the dangerously ill list. There is nothing they can do with pancreatitis except to rest the pancreas so no food and drink allowed, and lots of IV fluids given intravenously. Antibiotics are also given, although I have read that this is controversial and not all antibiotic-use have been proven effective although about 3 out of 5 studies have said this has been linked with better outcomes. More importantly, they are keeping him as comfortable as possible since he was in a great deal of pain. Morphine is out so they are using Pethidine with Maxalon - Pethidine to sedate and Maxalon to counter nausea and vomiting which are associated with Pethidine.

It must be Japan.

The last time we planned a trip to Japan, dad had the emergency bypass on the eve of our departure, literally leaving me strung up by my toenails in agony trying to make a decision of whether to stay or go. We went and thankfully, that episode resolved itself well.

Now, this. I feel like this is deja vu all over again. No doubt this time the trip is months away. But I feel the same sense of unease, doubt and worry. What will happen to him? And what will happen to mom if anything happens to dad? While mom sometimes snarks about dad and grimly declares she wishes she didn't have to worry about him or take care of him etc, it is always done with the familiarity of long-time married couples. When one couple has been together for so many years and shared so much history, that bond is inevitable. Whether that bond is made from love, comfort, companionship or just familiarity or even pragmatism, that does not matter. If anything happens to dad, what will happen to mom? I worry about her. She will miss him tremendously.

I will miss him too but it is different for me. I have my own family and my own journey. And in my life, maybe I am at the midway stations. But for mom, with the passing of her parents and perhaps now, if dad goes, that's like an era quietly faded to white. Like footprints that are obliterated by fresh falling snow so that you no longer can really re-trace your steps anymore.

Everything will eventually work out, whatever the pathways are. I know this. I know we will all be alright one day. But right now, we just have to hold on tight to our seats, brace ourselves for a hard ride and wait and see what happens. We can only do that much.