Random Story Time

Just as promised from my previous other posts, I forgot to update some random things.

First off, I can't believe it's November. This means we are 1 month away from dad's first heavenly birthday. I have dreaded this moment since he passed away and I'm not sure how to feel except sadness. I know he wouldn't want me to sulk all day, but how do you undo that feeling?

Throwback to a couple months ago when I went for an allergy test. I thought I had a kiwi fruit allergy given my recent experience with green kiwis and how I felt after ingesting them. I had the skin prick test done (and I found out it was with a fresh green kiwi, not just a commercialized extract), which turned out to be negative. I also did the latex and kiwi blood work (which cost about $79 or something at Life Labs, but you can claim it through your insurance). After about 3 weeks, I saw the result and it was....negative.

I had a follow up appointment with the allergist to review it all. Based on the tests, it turns out I'm not allergic to kiwis. However, they still couldn't explain my symptoms after ingesting it. They said maybe it's just the way the kiwi reacted to my stomach. Or the way my body just reacted to the fruit. But it's best to just avoid it.

So...I'm not allergic to it, but I still react to it. Got it. 

I still haven't eaten green kiwis since those 2 incidents, and since then, I haven't experienced anything like those incidents after ingesting other foods. Perhaps my body isn't used to the acidity anymore. Maybe it just decided one day that nahhh, this ain't it bro. Just reject it. I guess as we age, our bodies change and this can include various foods that our bodies decide to reject suddenly. 

Maybe one of these days I'll try eating a green kiwi again. I'll just have to make sure I have access to Epi nearby in case something worse happens. Good luck to me. For now, I'm not quite ready yet to go through that experience.

I haven't driven the Cayman much this year. Mostly because dad was admitted on and off through the months, along with his radiation therapy schedules. I skipped out on a lot of car events and cruises. For 2026, I have fueled her up twice. At most, it will be three times this year. I've spent more on insurance and oil change than gas. Insane. And now, soon she will be going to sleep for the next 5-6 months. I've probably put just under 1000km from last year to this year. 

Halloween came and went. Usually we enjoy giving out candies to the little ones. There's just something about giving that's so joyful (not that I agree with the "devil's night") but seeing them dressed up in cute outfits really brightens our day. We normally give out candies, aside from random years if it was raining or something. The past few years have been challenging as dad had a bad fall couple days before one of the Halloweens. We had bought boxes of candies, ready to go. But then he fell and suffered a brain bleed, went to the hospital. Hospital did a CT scan, said everything was fine, and DISCHARGED HIM HOME. Apparently this is the norm in Canada. So if you ever travel here or move here permanently, be prepared that you'll get sent home after you crack your head open and bleed internally. 

Halloween 2024; I was home with dad while mom had gone out to do a grocery run. Initially I told her it wouldn't be a good idea as dad was just fresh out of hospital, and he really had to be monitored closely. I didn't feel comfortable being at home by myself with him just yet. But of course, moms know best right. She mentioned it will be a fast run. 

Dad was on his iPad, watching his shows, and then after a while decided to rest his eyes a bit. I agreed, that limiting screen time especially after a brain injury is crucial. That wasn't the main issue in this case. Once he turned off his iPad, his finger started to cramp. Dad always had issues with random cramps, mostly from being too cold. So here I am, trying to help improve his hand and finger cramps. The next thing I know, he is having a seizure. He's never had a seizure before. 

F****CCCKKKK.

The problem was, I did not have my cell phone on me. It was in the kitchen, and his seizure was happening in the family room. He started seizing while he was standing up, so I had to guide him to the couch first, made sure he didn't fall off, and I ran as quick as I could to get the phone - which thankfully there was one in the family room on the opposite side. 

Dialed 9-1-1. And man, THEY PUT ME ON HOLD. Good luck to this country. 

Well, after what seemed like forever, I finally spoke with the operator and informed them of the situation, that I needed an ambulance ASAP. At this point, he was probably seizing for a good 30 seconds if not longer. Again, time goes blurry during an emergency - I could only guess. 

Once I was off the phone with the operator, dad had seized on and off. Mom finally came home, and I shouted to her the situation and to clear the door. In her panic, she had decided to just bring all the groceries in and park the car (I mean, everyone deals with shock differently). I told her to forget about the groceries and just clear the way for the ambulance. Shortly after, EMS arrived and did their assessment, then took him to the hospital. Mom went along with him first.

She then told me to not give out candies that night. Well, I wasn't even thinking about Halloween at that moment. The house went dark, and along I went to the hospital.

Dad was finally admitted. I don't even know why they decided to discharge him in the first place. But then again, I do know since I'm in the system. As long as you're still breathing and not profusely bleeding out, you can go home. 

Halloween 2025, we handed out candies. Well, more like my nieces and mom did. I was in the background as I had just undergone spinal surgery so I couldn't really do much except rest.

Halloween 2026. The house lights remained off. It just didn't feel right to give candies without dad watching and laughing nearby. He would always enjoy seeing all the kiddos with their costumes yelling trick or treat, and helping to hand out candies. But as the years went by, he only was able to watch from afar. This year, he watches from above. 

For those who know me, I'm not a very techy type of person. I'm definitely not into the new tech releases when it comes to phones or whatever. But...this was a long time coming.

 I finally bought a new phone. It's not the most up to date one, but I finally bought myself the new iPhone 17. This is my very first new iPhone that I've bought myself. When I first got into the phones, I bought the first couple of them second hand. The first one (4) lasted me about 4-5 years. Much longer than my Motorola or Samsung, or even Sony Ericsson. 

I used to buy SE brand new when they had their flip phones (again, nothing fancy). They only lasted me about 1.5 years before I had to buy another one. At that time I thought 1.5 years was a long time, but turns out, it was not. From that experience, I thought nah, I don't want to keep buying new phones every 1.5 years.

I took the chance going second hand when a cousin's boyfriend at that time was selling his 4, so I bought it off of him. After about 4-5 years, I then got a used 5. Then I was gifted both the 6 and XR. 

I currently am still using the XR, and it's approaching the 7 year mark. This is the longest serving phone I have ever used. The problem with Apple is, every time their iOS updates, it kills the battery. That's not my main problem, but I'm also running out of storage (HA! Got to thank myself for taking over 4,000 pictures and videos). But yeah, I guess iOS is the main killer because the phone is getting quite laggy and it crashes at times while trying to load a website. It is near its end of life, but yet, I still try to keep it alive.

I went the 17 route because I just didn't like how the 18 looked at the back (with the camera and all). It just looked a bit bulky to me. I went with the 512GB storage. 

I should be more excited, but I don't feel excited at all. Since dad's passing, I have been reluctant to buy anything. It would just remind me that I bought this, without dad being here. It just felt...wrong. The more I buy, the more it would remind me and it would make me go mentally crazy. Because this would mean I'm moving forward without him. And I couldn't do it.

So for many months, I was reluctant to buy another phone. It was a long time coming actually, but I knew one day I would need to get a new phone, especially if it kept crashing on me.

Now that the day has come, and I have it with me, my next struggle is to open it. I had the box with me, and it didn't feel right to open it by myself. I have dad's picture with me in my room so of course, I moved the picture in front of me and told him dad, I finally bought a new phone for myself after more than 15 years. It's a weird feeling, but I did what you asked and tried to save up my money. I said that although you're not here physically, I know you're watching from above, and I wanted to open this phone together with you.

But...the more I kept staring at it, the more I couldn't do it. I started bawling my eyes out. I told him I didn't feel ready yet. I couldn't unbox this new phone. I apologized for chickening out. I just wasn't ready to take that next leap. So I put the box back in the bag and I put it away. 

A little bit of a back story. I bought both mom and dad brand new iPhones over the past decade (both the 6 and the 11) once I managed to work a lot and save up. With both the 6, it was for mother's and father's day that same year. They had both worked so hard over the years and I knew they were simple people, but they both had old laggy phones that I knew needed upgrading. So I went to the Apple store and purchased two brand new phones for them. They both had newer and upgraded phones than me at this point.

Fast forward a few more years, and their 6's were getting old. Mom used the phone more than dad, but that doesn't mean dad deserved any less. For that particular year, both mom and dad got their phones upgraded to brand new 11's on both their birthdays. I had gone to the store to purchase them both. At this point, they had better phones than me again. 

Although I had purchased brand new from the Apple store, it wasn't for me but for both mom and dad. This time around, it felt weird to buy myself a new phone after more than a decade. I didn't feel joyful or accomplished, but I felt it was a chore because my old phone needed replacing, not because I wanted it. Later that night, I went online to purchase a screen protector, and a phone case, along with a wired headphone adapter (because yes, I'm old and I still use the OG wired headphones, not bluetooth). That was also another reason why I was so reluctant to upgrade the phone...because there is no more wired headphones jack. And I'd have to buy a new phone charger adapter. Yay, got to love Apple sometimes. 

Then it's also the issue of transferring all the phone data to the new phone. I've experienced in the past of not transferring everything successfully over. Nowadays it's very easy to do. But...I just don't want to risk losing any of dad's old text messages to me. He wasn't a big texter, but anything that I have from him, I will always cherish. The oldest ones I manage to keep was from 2015 until present day. It's not a lot, but in it, he still had texts that said he was proud of me. I don't want to lose those. 

He didn't really text or call me within the past 2 years, given his state so I understand. But soon after he passed, I was in so much grief, that I decided to text myself from his phone, imagining what he would say to me. That although he wasn't here anymore, he was still so proud of me for staying strong, and that he would always be proud of me no matter what. That he would always love me. Because I know he would send me messages like that. 

And that's another thing. I had purchased a funny ringtone and put it on his name. Every time he called, the funny ringtone would go off, and it was a specific ringtone for dads. Unfortunately, I'll never get to hear that ringtone go off randomly anymore. It's all these little things that I end up missing and regretting. 

I still send him random text messages, messages that I know will never be read. Once in a while, I'll turn on his phone and read my messages and react with a heart emoji. Because maybe it's just my way of trying to cope. Because he never really used his phone much, we are still keeping his number active with one of those pay as you go type of packages. You pay $90 a year to keep a basic phone plan without data. I read people's experiences that they do that to always keep their loved ones numbers at bay. I don't know how long we will do this for, but I would most likely keep paying it for as long as I'm still alive. 

I'm not sure when I will transfer over to the new phone. I just replaced the screen protector on the XR again because it was all cracked up. At least now it feels new again. Maybe once all the new stuff arrives for the 17, I'll try again. But it's just tough. It feels weird and it feels wrong to unbox it without dad here. I just wished he was here so we could unbox it together. 

Anyways, I will stop for now. I think I made myself cry a bit too much while typing this out and reflecting on the past. Cherish your loved ones. Hug them and tell them how much you love them. If you don't believe in God, I pray that you open your hearts and mind to Him. I know some of us would go and blame God for all the death and suffering happening to us, but we also have to remember that death was never part of God's plan. It was us, human rebellion that turned us away from Him in the first place. He could have just walked away and let it be, but instead He sent his Son in human form to earth, to offer Himself as a living sacrifice, so that we may live eternally with Him after death. 

Dad's passing was heartbreaking and yes, full of anger. But never once did I blame God for it, or ask Him why He couldn't save dad. When I look back at the overall picture, dad had suffered a lot (he was getting poked everyday for blood work, and he had the worst veins possible, so yes, that alone was very painful for him). He had non-curable/inoperable liver cancer. The most we could ask for, was comfort. Keep dad comfortable. In the very end, dad went peacefully. God may not have saved him physically, but I pray that God saved him spiritually. 

They say just enjoy life, do whatever you want. But keep in mind that you can still do whatever you want and achieve all these wonderful things in life - it won't bring you joy. Joy really comes from deep within spiritually. You can buy your dream car and be happy, but it won't bring joy. Joy comes from the inner soul, something that isn't defined as an emotion, but more of a deep supernatural inner strength. 

Trust me when I say I know what the difference is: I have traveled to many places in the world, bought my dream car, have a great job with pay, blessed with caring colleagues, friends and family, and can buy whatever my heart desires such as new laptops or phones or handbags. It brings me happiness. But it doesn't bring me joy. They are 2 very different things. And I pray and hope that if you haven't experienced the difference, that you will get to one day, and that you get to seek what this joy is all about. 

GODISNOWHERE.

It's all about perspective.

1 month since dad left us...

It's just been over 1.5 month since dad left us, and 1 month since he was buried.

It felt like yesterday this all happened. Honestly, all the adrenaline just hits fast. Everything goes by in a blur. 

I attended my workplace anniversary party, with the blessings from my mom and brother. Originally it felt wrong to attend a large party. I had to look pretty, be happy, smile at everyone. I just wasn't in the mood especially after losing my dad. But both of them told me I should go. I had the support of all my colleagues and leadership team. I had worked so hard to secure the venue and get all the details sorted since the beginning of the year, that it would be a complete waste to not go. Not only was I attending as a complimentary gift from my director, but I would be wasting my spot and food if I did not show. Plus, mom and brother stated that if dad were still here, he would want me to go, and not be worried about him. 

I felt so much guilt. But I attended the party, and kept in the shadows. Although colleagues were surprised to see me, they did offer many hugs, many words of support and encouragement. Physically I was there. Mentally, I was not. In between, I still took calls from family regarding dad's funeral and obituary details, while also reviewing what I needed to say on stage as part of the host. Yeah, it was a lot. 

In the end, I survived the evening. I didn't dance as per tradition because, I wasn't in the mood. I just went straight up to the suite to take a breather, before helping to clear out the venue. 

Right after this, went straight back to dad's funeral planning. Finding old photos from the past. Compiling it for a slideshow. Mom stated no one would be watching, but I said trust me. People will. I cannot disappoint dad. I will ensure I get as many pictures as I can, and showcase how happy he was here - whether it be traveling, singing karaoke, taking a nap, eating food. You name it. 

I wasn't going to let some stupid hospitalization or doctor's words dictate his life. Nah, he deserved all the happiness. 

I dug out as many photos as I could, and put it together. I had also started my eulogy as soon as I could. It took about 2 weeks to put it together, as everyday I would write down something and edit it as the days went by. I wanted to make it impactful, meaningful. I wanted people to remember who my dad was. If they hadn't met him previously, I made sure to put in all the details pertaining to his unconditional love, his perseverance, and his support.

The day of the funeral was also the day of the visitation. We went early before the official hours started. This was also the first time we got to see dad since his passing - it was about 11 days. The room had a nice backdrop to the garden of the funeral home. It was beautiful.

Dad's casket was up front, and I can't tell you how fast I ran up to see him. When I finally saw him, I burst into tears. He looked peaceful. I cried. We all cried. I told him that we are finally here to see him, that I'm glad he's out of the damn hospital.

I touched his hand. It was super cold. It sent chills down my spine. The last time I held his hand, he was still warm. It made me really sad.

The service was beautiful. Pastor Joe gave a quick sermon. We sang a couple of worship songs. We had eulogies from my nieces, my brother and I. We had a good turnout for both visitation and the funeral. People also bought him so many flowers. He would've been so happy. 

The final goodbye...oh man, where do I even begin.

Although I have been to many funerals in my life, nothing compares it to your own family. Standing up front to shake everyone's hands, thanking them for their support, all the hugs, the crying. It was VERY emotional. 

When it came to the final moments before closing the casket, each of us were called to do a final goodbye. I requested that the F-14 that was on display with his picture be buried with him. I also wrote a 3 page letter for dad to read, so that went into his casket as well. Mom was the last to pay her respect. Once she stepped aside, that's when the casket cover was slowly closed.

I lost it. I cried, I couldn't help it. This was it and I didn't know how to control myself. This was the hardest thing I had to witness in my life.

The funeral staff led us to the burial site. All the guests had gathered around the tomb, while mom and I went to meet with the pallbearers waiting by the hearse. This was the final walk with dad, along with all my cousins, uncle and brother as pallbearers, while mom and I led them to the burial site.

Once all the guests laid their flowers on dad's casket, it was time for him to be lowered. I thought I could be brave for him, but no. I broke down and cried. I don't know which was the most challenging to see: watching the casket cover close, or watching the casket be lowered 6 feet under. To me, they're equally as heartbreaking. This is the first time watching my loved one be lowered, so it hit me really hard. 

I didn't get to watch them do the full burial as we had booked Mandarin buffet for our group. So we attended that, thanked everyone for coming and for their support. We ate, people mingled. Deep down inside, I just lost all appetite because of what I had to witness. I know dad wouldn't want me to starve so I felt like I had to shove food down my throat. But in that moment, I felt no hunger whatsoever. I ate for the sake of eating. It was also very tough considering dad loved to eat at Mandarin. This would be the first time eating without him.

Soon after, I drove my cousin to the airport to catch his flight back to the USA. And right after that, mom and I decided to go back to the grave site to see how dad was doing. When we got there, they had already put all the flowers on top of the site. It was nicely laid out. We took pictures of that moment. And then we cried. 

I couldn't believe this was it. It just felt so fast. It keeps replaying in my head over and over again. 

Right after the burial, I just didn't know how to function anymore. What was I going to do with my life now? Do I go back to work? Do I still take a few days off? I really had no feelings whatsoever. Mom suggested I go back to work, as it would help keep my mind busy. At least go back to a routine. 

I took one extra day off, then went back to work. Yeah, it was tough, but once I immersed myself into work, I was on a roll. I would be on a continuous roll until the end of the work day. It was finally time to head home.

The drive home was numbing. It didn't hit me until I got home, that dad wasn't going to be home anymore. Then I started to cry. Excuse me, I mean wail. Yeah, that first week was very depressing. It's still depressing to this day and I'm still learning how to navigate this journey. 

Since going back to work, I've realized that I feel ok when I'm not at the hospital site. But as soon as I step foot into the hospital, it didn't feel good. I just wanted to leave immediately. I haven't gone back up to the unit where my dad was, and I probably will never go back up there because it will probably trigger me. But at the off sites, I feel fine because that was where I was before all this happened. 

Driving home and being at home proved a way different perspective. Sometimes the drive home would trigger me, as dad had driven the Genesis quite a bit in the beginning when it arrived home. I remember he had driven it around while waiting for me during one of my hospital interviews. He would ask why the car's engine was getting so loud when he was trying to accelerate but it wouldn't go any faster. I had to remind him that he was in the manual mode, and not the automatic mode. Don't worry, the Genesis was not harmed. 

When that memory popped up while I drove home, it triggered me, and I really had to put myself together first. Had to keep telling myself to not cry otherwise if I do, I'd probably crash into someone. At least keep it together for now, until I got home. Once I got home, I can cry however much I want.

I talk to my dad everyday, as much as I can. I started off with once in the morning, and once in the evening before bedtime. I'd give him a good morning, let him know what I planned to do for the day, and hoped he had a good rest as well. By evening time, I would update him what I really did for the day, and all the struggles that happened. I continue to apologize to him for everything and anything - about how horrible I was back in the day when I didn't listen to him, about how I wished I took more pictures with him the past year, about how I wish I could've saved him. It goes on. 

The biggest lie is telling your loved ones that you'll be ok once they're gone. But reality is, I'm not ok. I'll probably never be ok, like how I was before. But it's true when they say a part of you dies when a loved one dies. It changes you. 

I also find that when I'm at home, time is non-existent. I could write up an entire plan for the day, and it wouldn't get done. I could tell a friend I can meet them at 5pm, and when the time comes, I'm still at home. I'd have to apologize for losing track of time. Or if I tell myself I really need this item from the grocery store. Or I need fuel today. But they don't get done. Maybe it's just me. Maybe my mind is just so hyper focused on how things could have been, and it just gets stuck in a loop. 

Or the times I promise mom I'd take her to a mall. But instead, we both start cleaning the house. Then we never make it out to the mall. Stuff like that. There's no wrong way of doing this, but I guess it's just having to take things as it goes. Take it a day at a time, a task at a time. There is no right time to do things. 

I still take my muscle relaxants before bedtime almost every night before work. On days that I don't work, I don't take them. In a way, it helps to keep my brain from overthinking because once all things are settled, that's when the brain will start wandering in its own thoughts, and it could keep me awake all night. 

After dad passed, I don't have the passion to do anything that I was previously doing. Driving. Lego. Going for walks at the mall. Buying random crap. Buying plushies. Maybe part of it is because all of dad's items are still here. Some have been donated but majority of his things are still here. And it got me thinking that...if I buy anymore crap, I don't want my family to deal with all the crap that I have accumulated over the years. So I stopped buying things. Except for food or drinks since we all need that. But anything else? I'm reluctant to buy anything, as it would remind me that this new item is now in my collection BUT WAIT...dad isn't here to see. My brain would pinpoint every little detail that this ONE ITEM was purchased after dad passed. But everything else I have? It was purchased while dad was still alive. 

I know it sounds ridiculous and I know I can't continue to keep living like this forever. Until my brain and heart can heal, I can't force myself to buy something yet. I would feel super guilty. I would probably hear him in my ear 'yaya, are you sure you need that? you already have 10 of those at home. Save your money.'

1 month later and it's still so fresh. I'm still very emotional. I'm also still very angry. I tend to lose my patience faster than before, or I get much more annoyed now when something doesn't go my way. Then it'll pass, and I would feel guilty and cry. I'd apologize to dad for disappointing him and God, that I was better than this. 

I've taken another much needed break from work to try and heal myself, because this past month was just too much. 

After this month passes, it will also be the first of everything....the first Thanksgiving without him. The first Remembrance Day without him. His first heavenly birthday. The first Christmas without him. The first New Year's Eve without him...and it goes on. I know it will hit me hard this year and next year. I don't know how I'm going to deal with them, but all I can do is try it one day at a time.

As the saying goes...grief is just love, with nowhere to go. 

1 Year Post Spinal Surgery

Oct 28, 2026 would be 1 year since my spinal surgery.

1 year ago to this day, I was not able to sit, stand or walk for very long. Towards the end of October 2025, I was not able to lay down either. Everything was just painful. I was on a long list of medications which was not helping. The last resort was a dose of Hydromorphone - 8 times stronger than Morphine - and it didn't even hit me. 

1 year later...well, a lot has happened as you know. But from a spinal perspective, the sciatica is mostly gone. The burning sensation is gone. The sharp shooting pain is gone. All I've had to deal with was mostly just random muscle aches. 

I've attended physio as much as I could, to learn all the proper body mechanics and exercises to continue when I feel aches. The key is, to keep moving. Once you get lazy and stop or stay stagnant, the aches will come back. On-going proper posture is also key in maintaining good spinal health. 

I was hoping to celebrate my 1 year post surgery, but unfortunately dad didn't get to make it to this day. It's not so much of a celebration now, but more of a throwback. 

Overall, I had maintained all the postures, all the exercises leading up to dad's hospitalization. Once he physically depended on us to help him, the repeated duties started to strain my back. Sometimes in the spur of the moment, I forget that I'm suppose to do this or that, and end up straining myself more than I should. Because I was just too focused on dad's well-being that I threw mine out the window.

Eventually I had to stop myself (along with my family scolding me that I pushed myself too much) if I didn't want to go through with another spinal injury and surgery. I had to remind myself to not twist or bend too much, but use my core if I wanted to help dad. I had to rewire my brain again. 

Ever since dad passed, my back has continued to ache. I meant to go back to physio, but once again, I'm stuck in my time phase. I know I need to do my exercises but haven't gotten to them just yet. However, I keep myself moving instead of staying still. 

My scar has healed nicely. I mean it could've healed much nicer if I had continuously used my scar cream but I got lazy in between and didn't put it on as frequently as I should. 

Aside from random cold feelings on my leg, or just this random feeling of numbness at times, overall I feel way better than last year. The surgery was a blessing in disguise. I'm still amazed how quick I was seen, and I thank God everyday that the surgery happened last year, and not this year. Otherwise there was no way I could help look after dad in the state that he was in. Physically it would've been very challenging. Given that I had time to heal, it gave me all the opportunity to help dad this year. God is wonderful, and I got to thank Him for sending me an amazing surgeon who took care of me. 

I don't use a cane anymore (woohoo). And although it's been more than a year since I wore heels, I was cleared from the surgeon to wear them again. But fair warning, to not fall over. Got it doc!

Last night, I went to watch Resident Evil (honestly, it was stupid. I prefer the first one 20+ years ago which had way more action) and wore my Loub heels for the first time in over a year. Thankfully it was a short walk because my feet started to really ache. I know I should work my way up to heels again. I just can't find my wedges. But anyways, it's a work in progress. Now that winter is just around the corner, I'm taking a long break from wearing heels. Maybe next year I'll try again. 

Although I'm cleared to now twist and bend, I still have to be very cautious I don't overdo it. Climbing into the sports cars is much better now, although I'm still cautious and take my time getting in and out of them. At least I can drive comfortably now versus last year. 

I still try to be very careful around very heavy items. I know I can't push myself too much, but I use proper body mechanics to do any heavy lifting. Most times, other people will take on the heavy lifting or moving while I do the light things as everyone is terrified I will re-herniate again. Anything is possible.

For those who are in a similar situation as I was last year, keep telling your doctors. Push for answers. Don't sit back and just let them dictate for you. If you've tried all the conservative therapies and it's getting worse, tell your doctor to refer to a spinal surgeon. Don't want too long to get it looked at. 

October is spinal health month. We only have one spine in this lifetime. Make sure to take care of it.

I don't even know what to title this

I debated if I should continue with this blog. For those who have stuck around for the past 20 years, thank you. For those who are just discovering this blog of mine, welcome to my blog. For those looking for spicy tea, you probably won't find much but I welcome you here into my virtual brain.

Given that life is so fragile, and perhaps a bit too short, I figured I'll just keep blogging for as long as I physically can, until I cannot anymore. In a way as I get older, I can look back to this and scold myself, or if I ever start losing my memory, this would (hopefully) help to remember who I was. 

The next few (who knows how long, I can't predict) blog entries will probably be a bit depressing or sad, just because my mind is still grieving. I have no idea how to deal with it, but I'm just trying to take it a day at a time. There is no specific topic to this blog, so it will just be all over the place.

2 weeks ago today, we finally laid my dad to rest. 

It's a weird feeling - I wish I can describe it - but it just feels surreal how this was 2 weeks ago. It felt like yesterday. I don't know where the time went. But I wish we could just rewind back to a decade ago when things were so much better. When dad was still here. When we were traveling the world. When dad was finally enjoying his retirement. When things were cheaper. You get the idea. 

Back in March, I (along with a small group of colleagues) were busy trying to secure a venue for our workplace's big anniversary party. Considering this was a big one, we didn't want to disappoint. We needed time to prepare for this. Once we secured the venue, the planning went ahead. 1 month before the party, that's when things really became stressful - trying to finalize the numbers, decorations, all the little details. All this happened while we were still working full time.

At the same time, I was dealing with dad's radiation therapy and then eventual hospitalization post immunotherapy (I'm going to leave this for another blog entry). Initially we thought he would only be there for a few days but it turned into almost 6 weeks before his eventual passing. Given the shortage of nursing staff, I would be working my full time job Monday to Friday, and in between would be visiting him to make sure he was ok. Thankfully mom was always with him, but I was also there to help medically if no nurse was around. Once my job was done for the day, I headed straight up to the unit and stayed there til late night. Came home only if he was medically stable.

You can imagine the stress, the grief, the anger of it all when a few days before the workplace anniversary party was to happen, my dad passed away. Mentally and emotionally, I was not able to continue finalizing the party details - I had to pass it to my colleagues to help finish the final details - while I had to switch over to planning a funeral instead. 

Nothing in life prepares you for losing a loved one. Yes, we all know we aren't escaping death. We are all going to die some day. Yet when it actually happens to you, that's when it really hits. The reality of it all. 

I knew that when M passed away 11 years ago, at that time I was a disaster. It took me about 2 years to finally accept that he was gone, that there was nothing I could do, and during that time, I really did try everything I could do to keep him alive. M wasn't even human. He was a cat. And I kept telling myself...if I was such a disaster in dealing with a cat's death, how will I ever deal with a loved one's passing? Especially if it came to my parents? Would I have to admit myself to an asylum? Go on drugs? Take cocaine?

Deep down, I had this gut feeling that dad wasn't going to make it past 2026. Maybe it's the nursing intuition. Maybe it was God giving me signs to prepare myself. But I didn't expect it to happen this fast. Even though I knew the prognosis wasn't the greatest, somehow deep within you, you still hope. You still hope they can get out of here. Our goal was to try and bring him home so if he passes, he would be in the comfort of his own home. The home that he worked so hard to get. And yet, he didn't quite make it home. To me, that is one of those things that guilt has started eating away at me.

Secondly, it made me question myself as a health care practitioner. Did I do everything I could to keep him alive? What could I have done better? Why didn't I stand up for him more? Why is it that I fight for my patients, yet when I fought for dad, it felt unheard? Was I not vocal enough? Did I not challenge the doctor's medical decisions enough? The guilt of...not being able to keep your own family alive, while you still work on keeping others' family members alive and advocate for them...yeah, the guilt. 

I felt that the medical team did not do that for him, for us. There was no advocacy, except to go comfort care because THEY felt it would be the best for him. I've heard of all this before - that it would be the best for him, it would end his suffering. Why go through all this if he's just going to be worse than before? I've heard it all because I was the one providing that information to families. But when you are on the other side now, it takes on a whole different ballpark.

In between the days, I asked dad if he would like us to continue life sustaining treatments for him, especially if his heart stopped beating. Did he want CPR? Or did he want us to let him go? He responded....save me. 

A couple of days before dad passed away, he was on this high flow oxygen (called Airvo), so there was a lot of noise from the oxygen. At this point, he had trouble swallowing and he wasn't getting enough nutrition because he kept aspirating, even after restarting his G-feeds. He was just so weak. But even after all that, he looked at me and whispered "Yaya...I want to go home." 

You know, those words still kill me to this day. 

I told him, yes dad, I know you want to go home. We are trying to get you better so you can go home with us. Yet I felt that I couldn't fulfill his last wish. Another guilt to add to the book.

I know people keep telling me to not feel guilty, that I tried my best, that he's no longer suffering and is now free. But that's the thing. They can just say it and go about their day. But me? I can't do that. The brain just doesn't switch off and say ok, accepted. Let's move on now. It's a lot more complicated than that.

And that's another thing. I haven't lost anyone close to me, ever. When my colleagues or friends or other relatives who deal with immediate family loss, I offer them comforting words and a shoulder to cry on. But did I really know what grief meant at that time? Not at all. I was very fortunate that I didn't know what grief felt like. Until now. 

Grief is wild. I don't know about beautiful, but it's weird. 

The other day, I was opening up a bag of potato chips. Poured it into a bowl. And then I cried. It just happened - no control whatsoever. It hit me that...whenever I opened a bag of chips to eat, and dad was around, he would either sneak a few bites from my bowl, or take the remaining bag of chips and start eating it with chopsticks (yes, a very Asian thing to do). But now? I have no one to share my bag of chips with. I have no one to bother me about asking if they could sneak a few bites from my bowl, or taking the bag away from me. Sure, my mom is still here to eat with me. But it's just not the same. I feel like I'm still missing a piece of the puzzle.

It's also the moments of when I'm eating lunch or dinner, and I'm about to call dad to come and eat while looking at the sofa that he usually sits at, only to see it empty.

It's also walking by the room where I built both Lego Titanic and Concorde for dad, because he's always wanted a Titanic model, or his love of aviation. He would secretly try to play with the Concorde's flaps when I wasn't looking. Yet now when I walk by the room, or if I'm in the room staring at both models, I break down.

That's grief. Grief comes in many forms. And it will hit at anytime, any place, anywhere. School won't teach you how to deal with grief. A master's or PhD program won't teach you how to deal with grief.

People say it's beautiful because you have all these memories with your loved ones, that it reminds you of them. It brings back the love, the good times, and that you are fortunate to have all these positive memories. It keeps them alive, through you.

Yet, it's sad because building Lego for me now will always be depressing. It reminds me that this new set I'm building, dad isn't here to watch me build it, nor will he get to see it in person. He won't get to tell me "wow, that's amazing. That's not easy, but I'm so proud of you." 

And that's the thing. Dad always told me how proud he was of me. It didn't matter that I was rebellious and did stupid things behind his back, or that I went and wasted money on whatever item. He would always end our conversation with "No matter what, daddy loves you and will always be proud of you."

One of the things I regret is not taking enough pictures during big moments, such as the day I brought the Cayman home. The days leading up to that moment wasn't the greatest because here I went, going to a Porsche dealership and signed papers on a car that I didn't consult him to buy. Yes, I'm an adult and can do whatever I want with my money, but for these big moments, I should've involved him. But I was scared. Both mom and dad were quite mad when I did that and kept telling me I'm wasting my money. 

Yet, on the day that I went to pick up the Cayman, my dad came with me. But I was so afraid of judgement from my own family, that I told the dealership to just keep it subtle -  leave the car out, I'll sign papers real quick. No balloons or unveiling or anything. It felt like any regular car pick up. There was nothing special. 

Deep down, I really wanted a special moment. I worked hard, saved up and bought the car of my dreams. I should celebrate. But I let fear get to me. Instead of a celebratory moment, it felt like a secret. No pictures. No champagne. Nothing. And honestly, I should've celebrated. Dad worked hard all his life, and I wanted to make him proud. Having a daughter buy a Porsche in this lifetime? He wouldn't have believed it, but it happened.

Over the years, I let that fear eat away at me. For any car cruises, I could've asked him to come along, but then we'd be gone an entire day and I'd have to leave mom at home by herself. Car cruises were merely just my hobby. It's still tough to drive the Cayman knowing he's not here anymore, because he was the one who also came with me to pick it up and drive it home. At least THAT moment will forever be engrained in my head. But never once did I get to take a picture with him standing beside it. That's my regret when it came to the Cayman. I wish I could've at least taken some photos with him beside it or driving it. 

Everyday is tough. Going back to work at least helped to distract me from all my sadness. I'm also very blessed to have colleagues who are so supportive and understand what I'm going through. It helps to tackle each day at a time. But home time is the hardest for me, as all the memories of seeing him in familiar places get to me and it hits me hard. 

There are still certain rooms I have a hard time going into while at home. There is one particular bathroom that he used during his previous hospitalizations - made it easier for him. It's been 2 years and I haven't used the toilet there. Because I considered it his bathroom. Or his dinner chair. I can't sit in his spot because it's just weird. That's his spot, not mine. Same with the sofa. I can't sit where he sat all this time. His spare room. It feels weird going into it to look for something because those are his items, not mine.

I guess that's what grief is all about. The recovery. The healing journey. The reality that they're no longer here physically with us. 

I'm still coming to terms with this, so bear with me as I go through this journey, trying to navigate it and not go insane at the same time.

If you've made it this far, I thank you for reading. I thank you for sticking around. 

I saw dad in my dreams

Last night, I finally didn't take my Baclofen.

For a while now (or depending how I felt), I relied on muscle relaxants to ease my back especially after doing too much heavy lifting. In my case, dad needed a lot of help so it put a lot of stress on my body. 

After dad passed, my body and brain was under extreme stress and hurt (it still is). Every night I was exhausted but I couldn't sleep. So off I go, popping a pill. After a while, everything turns black and I don't wake up until the next morning. Dreams were non-existent. It was just pitch black every night.

Last night I was tired, but felt I didn't need any pills so I just dozed off.

I did wake up a couple of times at night for whatever reason. But this time I couldn't fall back asleep. Because this time, I finally dreamt about dad. I had waited for this moment for a while and was angry as to why I didn't have any dreams about him. But at last...

I had a vivid dream.

It was during the daytime at home. It was a nice, summer day with sunshine and a bit of a breeze. 

The windows to the family room were open. The white curtains were fluttering lightly in the wind, against the sun. In reality, we haven't opened those windows in years. 

I was in the hallway when I noticed this figure just outside of those windows. I saw someone dressed with a black suit, red tie with a white shirt and a green vest. 

It was dad.

He had on the exact same outfit in the picture that we had just picked out for him for the funeral.

At first it startled me because I was wondering why dad was on the outside of the house and not inside. Secondly, why didn't he say hi and hug me? 

I ran towards the window, calling for him.

He saw me, but he started to slowly walk away.

I ran even faster, to please wait for me. By the time I got to the window, I peeked outside and he was gone. I couldn't find him around the corner of the house.

Then I woke up. 

I haven't slept since that moment. It's been replaying over and over in my head. The last time I had a vivid dream was years ago after M passed away. 

I've been trying to decipher what this all means. The sunshine, the wind breeze, the curtains fluttering in the wind...it's all symbolic of the Holy Spirit, that God is here in the present. When one door closes, another opens. It's almost like going from earth to the heavens. This is especially symbolic given that our windows haven't opened in years. But now that it's suddenly opened, this would make sense.

The best verse that was provided to me: Revelation 21:4-5 --> And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away. Then He who sat on the throne said "Behold, I make all things new." And He said to me "Write, for these words are true and faithful." (NKJV).

It is true that there is no further pain or suffering for dad. This era is now over for him physically. When I saw him in my dream, he looked peaceful and not in pain, and he was dressed in a suit. He looked comfortable. 

It's still a struggle trying to wrap my head around the reality of it all. Nothing really prepares you for losing someone so close to you after so many years. Yes, we are all going to die physically - there is no escape. But I mean NOTHING prepares you for the emotional toil that comes after the death of a loved one. The grief hits at anytime, and anywhere. And it's ok to grieve. It doesn't mean you just say bye and move on with your life. It means learning to move forward with their memories engrained in you. 

In earthly words, I pretty much died on September 22nd. Nothing I do will bring back my dad, just like how I couldn't bring back M. All I can do now is to embrace all the love he had given me all these years, and continue to keep those memories alive as I continue to live as best as I can on this earth, until it is time to meet God, and I can finally see dad again.

Dad...

September 22 will be a day I'll never forget. 

Today is the day my dad passed away from complications of liver cancer, at 6:42pm. He was surrounded by my mom, brother and I. We were all there when he took his last breath. I am blessed that I was able to be with him until the end, just like how he had been there when I was born in the beginning. Not everyone gets to experience this, and for that I am grateful.

Heartbroken and devastation are understatements of how I feel at the moment. 

I knew he had been sick for a while, but he kept persevering through the tough times, as if he didn't even have issues, but I knew it was slowing him down. He had been in hospital for almost 6 weeks. 6 torturous weeks, which involved constant aspiration pneumonia, failed attempts at NG tubes, GJ tube insertion, aspirating constantly on his saliva, and then of course all the doctors ordering exuberant amounts of antibiotics because they all had no clue what was causing his aspiration. Was it the immunotherapy? Was it something else? No one could tell me. 

As a daughter, it is difficult watching your loved ones slowly drowning in their own saliva. When that happens, deep suctioning using a catheter is required and not all nurses are trained for that. Unfortunately I couldn't rely on staff to suction him all the time, so I used my expertise to help him breathe. Let me tell you, it is a horrendous experience for both. It's the most uncomfortable feeling for anyone to get any tubes stuck down their throats while awake. As a daughter, I wanted to save him and this was the only way to keep him breathing, so I had to help deep suction within boundaries. Too little of it and he would have difficulty breathing. Too much and it could cause more damage and more phlegm in the airway. 

I'm grateful for the nursing team for taking care of my dad as best as possible. But no thanks to one particular doctor. 

I pray that dad is now in a better place, pain free and no longer suffering.

I love you dad <3

No more captive whales...

Today, we celebrate the last remaining 6 whales that are being transported from Marineland to various aquariums in the USA and Spain.

Canada no longer has any further whales (orcas, belugas) and dolphins held in captivity. This marks the end of whale breeding and captivity.

Humans are the WORST to ever exist on this planet. All this started because fishermen would get paid thousands to capture these beautiful creatures, all for human entertainment. Money is the root of all evil. 

Imagine you get captured as a 2 year old, to swim and perform in a bathtub for the rest of your life. You get torn away from your family, and put into a tub full of other 2 year olds (all from different backgrounds), and are told to perform. The only way you get rewarded is if you do what you're told, and boom, you get a fish in your mouth. Congratulations. What a way to live a life.

This is exactly what the orcas had gone through for the past 50 years. The marine parks exploded in the 80's with many captured whales around the world, all set to perform and entertain guests. Yes, whales are very smart and people don't have to prove that. We can already see it in the wild. Why must you capture them to perform tricks in front of guests? Ohhhh right, so you as a corporation can get paid millions (yes, I'm looking at you SeaWorld and Marineland).

I'm so glad Marineland has finally shut down. It's a bitter sweet moment - as kids, we are all mesmerized by these gigantic beauties. I mean, which kid is lucky enough to take a boat into the wild and watch whales sky hopping in front of them? Probably not too many. Marine parks were the closest thing you can get to them. I think if they had created it as a sanctuary, then it would be better. But for entertainment purposes? Absolutely not.

When Keiko (i.e Free Willy) became so popular that kids all over the world wanted to set him free, it wasn't as easy as everyone thought. They had to build a huge sanctuary for him to train him how to hunt in the wild again. Because keep in mind, Keiko was captured near Iceland in 1979 and sold to various marine parks (including Marineland in 1982) where he was forced to perform. Keiko spent many of his years in captivity versus in the wild. You can't just throw a whale back in the wild, expecting them to adapt. After staring in the Free Willy movie franchise, a petition came to set him free into the wild. 

Considering these are highly intelligent mammals, they are also very high emotional animals. They have their own 'language' that they communicate with their own families. They cannot just join any random pod that they encounter in the wild because they wouldn't be speaking the same languages. And that is exactly what happened to Keiko when he was released into the wild.

Eventually Keiko experienced about a year of free wild life before succumbing to pneumonia in December 2003.

It's bitter sweet that these remaining belugas and dolphins are being sent to another aquarium instead of a sanctuary. But the reality is there is no such beluga sanctuary. No where in the world have they built one yet. Why move these belugas?

Because Marineland was threatening to euthanize all the whales if no one would take them. They actually used euthanasia as a bargaining tool because they didn't have enough money left to pay for the care of the whales. Can you imagine if hospitals did the same thing? If you don't take your family out of here, we will euthanize them because they're taking up a bed and we're losing money. Yeah, it's not going to end well. 

I wish I could say let's celebrate, but it is bitter sweet. It's not a solution either to release them into the wild because many of them were born into captivity and have never even hunted before. They wouldn't survive in the wild because they would get hunted by other predators. 

I'm glad Marineland has gone bankrupt. Ever since the original owner passed away, everything has gone to sh!t. I don't think it was his vision to have Marineland turn out the way it is today. Corporation greed. 

So far one of the beluga whales (Peekachu) has passed away soon after arriving to Chicago's aquarium. It hasn't even been a month yet of relocation. My heart hurts for each of these belugas. All we can do for them is hope for the best.