Having sister number 2 with us was an unexpected bonus. Honestly, I did not expect her to jump in to help me. Why? Because she has a compendium of ailments that she must cope with daily. Her eyesight is suspect. She has glaucoma in both eyes while her right eye has been impaired since childhood. A not so good vision is more than an obstacle as she has real problems seeing and reading clearly. In addition, she has tinnitus and vertigo. Insomnia and a dodgy knee. A tummy that is prone to upsets. And, she is not really a keen traveller or flier. Motion sickness, I think. Despite the far from glowing health report, she came.
That is not all. She left behind her husband, who, yes, can care for himself, but still… A grandson, whom she adores. And of course, her son, whom she loves and daughter-in-law, whom she loves equally. And, many friends. For a relatively long 17 days to help me out in Kalyani’s absence. To give me time to myself, time with my husband and get some errands/stuff done. Grateful, I was. Touched, I continue to be.
Yes, I know. My mum is also her mum. Our mum. Acknowledged and agreed. But like I mentioned in my previous post, I have 6 siblings. My sisters, brothers and I are now old or at least older. It was not that long ago that we, a few of us, used to pride ourselves at looking younger than most, and with boundless energy. Alas, we are now senior citizens with an average age of 68. With serious and worrying illnesses. And, other debilitating diseases. All of us have priorities and responsibilities in our own homes, to our families – husbands, wives, children, and grandchildren. Plus, significant distances and long-haul flights to content with. So how?
Naturally, when sister number 2 arrived two Saturdays ago, my mum and I were happy. It was wonderful to see her, and have her home with us. From the get go, she re-acquainted herself with the medicines, and personal care needed for my mum. She was, generally, ready. Unfortunately, my mum felt unwell almost immediately. In the first week, my mum’s temperature spiked to between 37.5°C – 38+°C on three nights. She threw up, and continued to feel nauseas. Sister number 2 had her hands full.
The palliative team was summoned. Three tests were done. Blood and influenza, and a sputum culture. My mum had no influenza A or B. No pathogens were found. But… the blood test showed that she had had a past dengue infection. Past, as in the last few weeks. How? Where? Anyways, it was the remains of the dengue infection that manifested in the symptoms my mum was exhibiting. My mum was sick. Sister number 2 was exhausted from lack of sleep with tepid sponges, administration of four to six hourly Panadol and observations. Fortunately, my mum started to show progress in the latter half of the second week. The nausea/tummy pain is still recurring but is being partially addressed with a regular dose of ‘Omum’ water and ‘assam koh’ or dried sour plum.
Which brings me to sister number 2 and her aversion to all fruits, particularly those with seeds. How? Why? I don’t know. The phobia or dislike is something she has had since she was a child. The ‘assam koh’ has a visible seed. Me, I eat the flesh and suck on the seed, which has a distinct sweet, sour and piquant taste. Like tamarind. It helps quell queasy tummies. Sometimes, it is just nice to pop an ‘assam koh’ in the mouth like a sweet. It was and still is the ‘assam koh’ seed that sister number 2 cannot bear to look at. So, to save sister number 2 the trauma of dealing with this forbidden fruit, I sliced the dried flesh from the seed, and discreetly discarded it. The same disposal strategy was applied to my mum’s breakfast and dinner, which primarily features fruits. I cut the selected fruits into bite size pieces, and placed them in labelled containers for her. It worked.
On one occasion, when she watched me dice and macerate fruits for my mum, which admittedly is a time-consuming job, she said she would help cut a few of the fruits that she detests less:) The ones that met her approval were apples and pears. No mangoes, and a big no to bananas. It did not happen as I continued with the fruit detail. Still, the mere offer to touch/cut fruits, her bugbear, mattered to me.
Thank you, sister number 2, for making the effort to come home.
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