Dear reader,

Tomorrow is the scheduled day to remove the staples and review the biopsy report for the tumours retrieved from the procedures (Rigid Cytoscopy, Bilateral Ureteric Stenting, Total Omentectomy, Total Abdominal Hysterectomy Bilateral Salpingo Oophorectomy, Sigmoid Colectomy, Resection of Diaphragm deposits, Bilateral Stripping of the Diaphragm, Colo-Rectal End To End Anastomosis, Bilateral Pelvic Lymphadenectomy, Paraaortic Lymphadenectomy, Resection of Peritoneal and Small Bowel Mesentry deposits, Total Peritonectomy). I have no idea whatsoever regarding any of these medical terms but to me, they only mean one thing: an extensive 12-hour operation on my mother followed by a difficult and painful recovery period, an ongoing process. She just went to bed. My father put on the air-conditioner to ease her falling asleep.

I don’t do a lot of work yet each passing day seems more exhausting than the previous. It is probably a touch above 40 degree Celsius. There was a free booze party at a classmate’s place today. I don’t drink and recently, I try to return home from college as soon as possible to help out at home. A few years from now, as I picture most of my immediate family either dead or estranged, I imagine myself to be living in a small, highly functional apartment with the greatest bookcases, whether it be stacked from the ceiling to the floor or in a double-deck form (shelves below a staircase that leads to shelves above and a rocking chair – there is ALWAYS a rocking high-back chair). To those really close to me, I do let my hair down. I appear private and quiet to most others. Sometimes, I can be very shy and sometimes, I wouldn’t believe my own guts. I have been penning my thoughts in a journal for very many years now and about a year ago, a therapist had told me that I needed to get a real life best friend. I have one or two of them but I am not sure if I ever will be 100% honest to anybody.

Sometimes, I compulsively lie. I don’t cook. I have been trying to get off a ‘reading block’ for quite some time now and failed miserably. I always go back to Harry Potter (comfort zone indication). Tonight, after I get off the computer, I plan to try again. I also intend to finish an episode of Breaking Bad #3. My friends haven’t spared me from judgement ever since they found out that I haven’t watched all of it despite owning all of it.

There is no linearity in the thoughts that I have just written about. They are merely scattered ends of what were supposed to be well-constructed sentences following a particular order of commentary. I have enjoyed sleeping ever since we hired help to take the pressure off my grandparents, who are staying with us by virtue of being the extremely worried parents of a sick child and thus, the caretakers. There are a lot of people praying for my mother. She is very beautiful, strong and loved. And she is in a lot of pain. It has been 97 days since the first chemotherapy – a long, rocky journey which is yet to reach its destination. Most of her abdominal organs have been removed. Her psychiatric condition needs counseling as she, time and again, sees herself as a burden on us. I admit that I am not always very patient. I am working on it. I swear.

Love,
Sigh.

PS: My mother has Stage 3C Ovarian Cancer. She has undergone three sittings of neo-adjuvant chemotherapy and less than three weeks ago, she underwent an extensive operation. I was out of town for a week and I returned the day after. I had an interview call on the other side of the country. It was a taste of uncharted territory and unbounded freedom. It was addictive and alarming. I finally saw her post-operation on my birthday which was two days after the operation. She was very weak.

Why Do We Fall, Bruce?

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