homemade blues

Adam, my dear son,
I will never forget 25th May 2009. It is, and will be, another page in the history of my life that shall mark me forever.

The bout of vomiting you had over the weekend before and the fever you were having a few days prior already had me worried. I was considering to bring you to the hospital to set up an IV line so that you could get the necessary fluids in your body, since you couldn't keep anything down. All weekend Bibik Oom and I were trying to get you to eat or drink something, but you just vomited everything out. Even water.

But I took the risk, and brought you to see the pediatrician that we always go to, and he gave the anti-vomit medication, while advising me to go straight to the hospital if your condition worsened. Your temperature didn't register higher than normal when we were at the doctor's, and I thought things will take a turn for the better, as we drove home.

Even as weak, and as tired as you were, from not having enough food to provide you with energy, you could still give me a smile, while you rested on the bed, watching your favorite Blue's Clues video. At least, by this time, you could drink some milk without vomiting, and I left you with Bibik Oom while I went to my room to check some emails and talk to Abah.

The next thing I remember was hearing Bibik Oom screaming from downstairs, that there's something wrong with you. I rushed to open my bedroom door, and she ran up the stairs, with you in her arms, looking limp and almost lifeless, face ashen, lips tinged with blue, and eyes rolled upwards.

My heart stopped, and I called out your name, and quickly took you to the bathroom sink to wash your face. Getting very limited response, I could feel panic settling into my bones, as we quickly rushed downstairs to get you to a hospital. Everything after that is now a blur in my head.

I could only remember shouting to your brother to get into the car, calling Abah and screaming that you're not breathing, telling him that I'm going to the nearest hospital, feeling helpless and terrified that I wouldn't make it to the hospital in time, driving as fast as I could in the evening rush hour but managing to pick up Abah on the way so that he could drive and I could hold you. I also remembered your brother calling out to me, asking me to calm down. So mature for a 6-year-old.

You felt cold. And you wouldn't respond to us calling your name. I remember checking your pulse, and your breathing, and I remember crying, feeling like my heart was torn out, praying to Allah to not take you from me yet, that you still have so much to live for. That I need you to live. So that I can live. The 20 minute drive to the hospital seemed forever and endless while I was trapped in helplessness.

I must've looked like a mad woman as I stumbled, crying, into the emergency room with you. The nurses took you and put you on the hospital bed, and you lied there sleeping, while they set up an IV line and hooked up all sorts of wires onto you. I felt I couldn't breathe as I tried to explain to them what happened. Words came out all jumbled up, and I was stuttering, as I tried to calm down and compose myself, assuring myself that you're okay, that you're breathing. That you're still alive. That was all that mattered.

Your Abah and I thought the worst was over, and after the necessary registration and documentation for admission into the hospital ward, I stayed with you, while Abah took Bibik Oom and your brother back home. I remember you then waking up, and tears of joy welled up in my eyes, and you didn't want to be put down, so I carried you, trying to soothe you while waiting for Abah to come back with your milk and clothes from home.

I remember calling Ama and Kong2 to tell them what happened, Wan Umi as well. Wan Uda and Wan Usu came to see you, but you refused to be near anyone else, so I held on to you while waiting for Abah. When he finally came, you wanted to drink some milk, and I was only too happy to see you drinking without vomiting. The specialist then came later, and after I repeated what I had related to the doctor in the emergency room, she came to the conclusion that this episode happened due to electrolyte imbalance - since you were vomiting and not keeping anything down the past few days. We agreed that you would be monitored this night, and further examination will be carried out later.

Like I said, Abah and I thought the worst was over. I was lying on the bed, a bit calmer now that we have spoken to the specialist. You were about to doze off, and Abah was carrying you, as he would only leave when you have fallen asleep, when suddenly he called out to me alarmingly, that you had gone stiff in his arms. I saw it this time.

You looked like you were going to vomit, but you couldn't, and started convulsing instead. I hit the emergency button next to the bed, calling frantically for the nurses to come. I took you from Abah to lay on my shoulder, you jerked around like you were being electrocuted, I was thumping your back, your eyes rolled upwards, there was secretion coming out of your mouth, Abah was calling your name, he was pressing the emergency button repeatedly, I was calling your name, you were turning blue, you weren't responding... where are those @#$%^& nurses!?!

Looking back, it seemed like a scene from TV - in slow motion. As I held you, still convulsing, the feeling of helplessness and despair came swiftly. When will this end? My head felt heavy. You felt heavy in my arms. I wanted to stop breathing. If you had left me, now, tonight, I wanted to die, too. I couldn't imagine the world without you. I prayed to Allah. Please, God, please. Please...

The nurses finally came and took you from me, and Abah and I had to step aside, watching them tend to you. The convulsions finally stopped after a minute that seemed like an eternity, and then you slept. A curtain of peace across your face. Had Allah heard me?

Abah and I took turns to stay up throughout the night, watching for the slightest inclination of another episode. Thankfully there were no further episodes, even after we transferred you to the hospital Aunt Liz was working at, the next day. And after 5 days in the hospital, where you were back to your cheeky self by the third day but we had to finish the 5-day antibiotic course, we are now back home, and I could hear you now, laughing and throwing things downstairs.

You are back. Life has never seemed so fragile and so...temporary. God has given me another chance with you. I know it was selfish of me, to forget that your brother, too, and Abah, as well, need me, if something were to happen to you. But at that moment, when I thought I was going to lose you, and I would do it again if it came to that, I would have given my life in your place. As I would, if it happened to your brother.

We have Aunt Liz to thank for all the strings she pulled to get you a bed in the hospital. We have the doctors and nurses in both hospitals to thank for helping us in our time of need. We have to thank Abah and Bibik Oom and your brother, Danial, for being the gravity in our lives, for holding us all together. And mostly, we have Allah to thank that this is not yet your time to leave this world.

I love you, my darling son. More than you will ever know.

Your mother.