Life is fragile. I’m not an exception. I realised that in 1985. The year my dad passed away. For some inconceivable reason, I never thought my parents or a parent could/would die. I thought I wasn’t like other people. God knows why. But, I did.

I knew my parents were not superhuman or invincible. They both had ailments that required steady medical attention. It wasn’t like I wasn’t aware of protracted illnesses and deaths in the family. I was young but present when both my paternal grandparents and my maternal grandmother, Tulasi, died. Tulasi had chronic asthma all her life. I also attended my classmate’s mother’s funeral. Yet it was a shock. Unbelievable and difficult to accept because it was my dad.

I think about the fragility of life often. How life and lives can change in a split second. Accidents, disasters, illnesses, and pandemics. I don’t mean to be morbid but bad things happen, and it happens to everyone, everywhere, and sometimes too frequently. Life offers no guarantees. It is predictably unpredictable.

Anybody could drive out or walk out one day and not return. Anyone, young or old, can be diagnosed with a life-threatening or terminal illness. Natural disasters like earthquakes and floods, and man-made tragedies like wars and conflicts cause extensive deaths and heartaches.  For me, Covid-19 made the biggest impact on humanity and its fragility. The pervasive virus. Millions of lives lost. Families separated. Economic/social consequences. No relief. No escape.

Closer home. August, 2021 made me appreciate even more how fragile life really is. My mum became terribly unwell, and unaware of her surroundings. Same month, same year, my father-in-law passed away. I wasn’t able to pay my last respects, and that still bothers me. Currently, my mum has good and bad days. Her health is almost cyclical. Coughs and phlegm. A corresponding increase in temperature and pulse rate, and a dip in oxygen level. Headache and stomach ache follow. A home visit by her palliative doctor and upping of medicines help normalize her condition. Despite going through these cycles with my mum, I constantly worry and feel an unexplainable fear of losing her. It is debilitating.  

Late 2022, brother number 1 was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer. It shook me to the core. Unexpected. Unbelievable. Nothing prepares you for this kind of news. Sadness and fear overwhelmed me. I desperately wanted it to be a wrong diagnosis. The fragility of life played out in my head and heart. Feeling helpless and out of my depth, I wanted to help. To do something. I prayed. I read up, and searched for possible answers/ways to address/arrest the disease. Gratefully, five months on, brother number 1 is responding well to treatments. More prayers.

2023 has been adequately filled with doctors’ appointments, and hospital visits and admissions.  And, it’s only May. This, I guess, is par for the course, as I am part of an ageing family. Brother-in-law number 1 had a major heart surgery in March. Again gratefully, he is progressing well. Sister number 4 gave us a scare last week when she was hospitalised for acute tummy pains, nausea, vomiting and rapid pulse. After a battery of tests, she was diagnosed with idiopathic pancreatitis.

What? ‘Pancreatitis is inflammation of the pancreas. The pancreas is a long, flat gland that sits tucked behind the stomach in the upper abdomen. It produces enzymes that help digestion and hormones that help regulate the way your body processes sugar (glucose)[1].’ Pancreatitis may be sudden (acute) or ongoing (chronic). The causes for acute pancreatitis, amongst others, include gallstones, alcoholism, and high triglycerides levels in the blood.

Sister number 4 doesn’t fit the bill. She is a disciplined eater. She cannot be more careful or organic with her diet. Hence, the diagnosis – idiopathic pancreatitis. No one cause could be identified for the symptoms sister number 4 had experienced. It arose spontaneously or from an obscure or unknown cause[2].  Thankfully, the pain is much less now. Hopefully, it was a one-off episode.

The same week, my classmate suffered brain aneurysm, and was admitted to Pantai Hospital in Penang. She didn’t have a fall but complained of pain in her lower back and neck. She underwent two operations. Was placed on life support because of breathing problems. Her brain activity ceased. Her condition was serious. The doctors informed family and friends that once her heart stopped pumping without assistance, she wouldn’t be resuscitated. Prayers on site and via zoom were held. Those, who could, returned to say their goodbyes.

She lived not far from my house, which at the time, was at the police quarters along Jalan Langgar in Alor Star. I remember cycling to her place and just hanging out many afternoons, many years ago. We were the class of SNC’78. The funeral is today. My heart is sad. Life is fragile.