My sister, Michelle-Ann Iking's 3% chance of conceiving naturally was a success! Here's her story:
(My apologies as I've been overwhelmed with personal matters. I've only managed to get to my desk. So finally got around posting this).
This is the story behind my sister's pregnancy struggle and how she shared her journey over her Facebook page.
Because some may have not caught her LIVE session chat with me (https://www.facebook.com/daphneiking/videos/687743128744960/) , or read her lengthy post (as it's a private page);
she's allowed me to copy and paste it over my wall, in case you need to know more about her thought process on how AND why she focused on the 3% success probability. Read on.
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Posted 10th May 2020.
FB Credit: Michelle-Ann Iking
A week ago today I celebrated becoming a mother to our second, long awaited child.
Please forgive this mother's LONG (self-indulgent) post, journalling what this significant milestone has meant for her personally, for her own fallible memory's sake as well as maybe to share one day with her son.
If all you were wondering was whether I had delivered and if mum and bub are OK, please be assured the whole KkLM family are thriving tremendously, and continue scrolling right along your Newsfeed 😁.
OUR 3% MIRACLE
All babies are miracles... and none more so than our precious Kiaen Aaryan (pronounced KEY-n AR-yen), whose name derives from Sanskrit origins meaning:
Grace of God
Spiritual
Kind
Benevolent
...words espousing the gratitude Kishore and I feel for Kiaen's arrival as our "3% miracle".
He was conceived, naturally, after 3 years of Kishore and I hoping, praying and 'endeavoring'... and only couples for whom the objective switches from pure recreation to (elusive) procreation will understand how this is less fun than it sounds ...
3 years during which time we had consensus from 3 different doctors that we, particularly I (with my advancing age etc etc) had only a 3% chance of natural conception and that our best hope for a sibling for our firstborn, Lara Anoushka, was via IVF.
Lara herself was an 'intervention baby', being one of the 20% of babies successfully conceived through the less intrusive IUI process, after a year and a half of trying naturally and already being told then my age was a debilitating factor.
We had tried another round of IUI for her sibling in 2017 when Lara was a year old. And that time we fell into the ranks of the 80% of would-be parents for whom it would be an exercise in futility... who would go home, comfort each other as best they could, while individually masking their own personal disappointment... hoping for the best, 'the next time around'...
So the improbability ratio of 97% against natural conception of our second baby, as concurred by the combined opinion of 3 medical professionals, was a very real, very daunting figure for us to have to mentally deal with.
Deep, DEEP, down in my heart however, though I had many a day of doubt... I kept a core kernel of faith that somehow, I would again experience the privilege of pregnancy, and again, have a chance at childbirth.
And so, the optimist in me would tell myself, "Well, there have to be people who fall in the 3% bucket... why shouldn't WE be part of the 3%?"
Those who know me well, understand my belief in the Law of Attraction, the philosophy of focusing your mind only on what you want to attract, not on what you don't want, and so even as Kishore and I prepared to go into significant personal debt to attempt IVF in the 2nd half of 2019, I marshalled a last ditch effort to hone in on that 3% chance of natural conception... through research coming across fertility supplements that I ordered from the US and sent to a friend in Singapore to redirect to me because the supplier would not deliver to Malaysia.
I made us as a couple take the supplements in the 3 month 'priming period' in the lead up to the IVF procedure - preconditioning our bodies for optimum results, if you will.
At the same time, I had invested in a sophisticated fertility monitor, with probes and digital sensors for daily tracking of saliva and other unmentionable fluid samples, designed to pinpoint with chemical accuracy my state of fertility on any given day.
(UPDATE: For those interested - I obtained the supplements and Ovacue Fertility Monitor from https://www.fairhavenhealth.com/. Though I had my supplies delivered to a friend in Singapore, and redirected to me here since the US site does not deliver to Malaysia, there are local distributors for these products, you will just have to research the trustworthiness of the vendors yourself...)
I had set an intention - in the 3 months of pre-IVF priming, I would consume what seemed like a pharmacy's worth of supplements, and track fertility religiously... in hopes that somehow, within the 3 month priming period, we would conceive naturally and potentially save ourselves a down payment on a new property... and this was just a projection on financial costs of IVF, not even considering the physical, emotional and mental toll it involves, with no guarantee of a baby at the end of it all...
It was a continuation of an intention embedded even with my first pregnancy, where all the big ticket baby items were consciously purchased for use by a future sibling, in gender neutral colours, in hopes that sibling would be a brother "for a balanced pair", though of course any healthy child would be a welcome blessing.
It was a very conscious determination to always skew my thoughts in service of what the end objective was. For example, when 3+year old Lara would innocently express impatience at not yet having a sibling, at one point suggesting that since we were "taking too long to give her a baby brother/sister", perhaps we should just "go buy a baby from a shop", instead of getting defensive or berating the baby that she herself was, we enlisted Lara's help to pray for her sibling... so in any place of worship, or sacred ground of any kind that we passed thereon, Lara would stop, close her eyes, bow her small head and place her tiny hands together in prayer, reciting earnestly, "Please God, please give me a baby brother or baby sister."
After months and months of watching Lara do this, in the constancy of her childlike chant, Kishore started feeling the pressure of possibly disappointing Lara if her prayer was not answered. Whereas for me, Lara's recitation of her simple wish became like a strengthening mantra, our collective intention imbued with greater power with each repetition, and the goal of a sibling kept very much in the forefront of our minds (hence our calling Lara our 'project manager' in this endeavour).
And somehow in the 2nd month of that 3 month period, a positive + sign appeared on one of the home pregnancy tests I had grown accustomed to taking - my version of the lottery tickets others keep buying in hopes of hitting the jackpot, with all the cyclical anticipation and more often than not, disappointment, that entails...
This time however I was not disappointed.
With God's Grace, (hence 'Kiaen', a variation of 'Kiaan' which means 'Grace of God'), my focus on our joining the ranks of the 3% had materialised.
It seems poetic then, that Kiaen chose to make his appearance on the 3rd May, ironically the same date that his paternal great-grandfather departed this world for the next... such that in the combined words of Kishore and his father Kai Vello Suppiah,
"The 1st generation Suppiah left on 3rd May and the 4th generation Suppiah arrived on 3rd May after 41yrs...
One leaves, another comes, the legacy lives on..."
***
KIAEN AARYAN SUPPIAH'S BIRTH STORY
On Sunday 3rd May, I was 40 weeks and 5 days pregnant.
The baby was, in my mind, very UN-fashionably late past his due date of 29th April, so as much as I had willed and 'manifested' the privilege of pregnancy, to say I was keen to be done with it all was an understatement.
In the weeks leading to up to my full term, I had experienced increasingly intense Braxton-Hicks 'practice contractions' - annoying for me for the discomfort involved, stressful for Kishore who was on tenterhooks with the false alarms, on constant alert for when we would actually need to leave home for the hospital.
Having become a Hypnobirthing student and advocate from my first pregnancy with Lara, and thus being equipped with
(1) a lack of fear about childbirth in general and
(2) a basic understanding of how all the sensations I would experience fit into the big picture of my body bringing our baby closer to us,
I was less stressed - content to wait for the baby to be "fully cooked" and come out whenever he was ready... though I wouldn't have minded at all if the cooking time ended sooner, rather than later.
With Lara, I had been somewhat 'forced' into an induced labour, even though she was not yet due, and that had resulted in a 5 DAY LABOUR, a Birth Story for another post, so I was not inclined to chemically induce labour, even though I was assured that for second time mothers, it would be 'much faster and easier'...
That morning, I had a hunch *maybe* that day was the day, because in contrast to previous weeks' sensations of tightening, pressure and even spasms that were concentrated in the front of my abdomen and occasionally shot through my sides and legs, I felt period - like cramping in my lower back which I had not felt before throughout the pregnancy.
It was about 8am in the morning then, and my 'surges' were still relatively mild ('surges' being Hypnobirthing - speak for 'contractions', designed to frame them with the more positive connotations needed to counteract common language in which childbirth is presented as something that is unequivocally painful and traumatic, instead of the miraculous, powerful and natural phenomenon it actually is).
I recall (masochistically?) entertaining the thought of opting NOT to have an epidural JUST TO SEE WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE...
I figured this would be the last time I would be pregnant and so it would be my 'last chance' to experience 'drug free labour' which, apart from the health benefits for baby and mother, might be *interesting* in a way that people who are curious about what getting a tattoo and skydiving and bungee jumping are like, might find these *interesting*...even knowing there will be pain and risk involved...
Since I have tried tattoos and skydiving (unfortunately not being able to squeeze in bungee-jumping while my life was purely my own to risk at no dependents' possible detriment) a similar curiousity about a no-epidural labour was on my mind...
In the absence of other signs of the onset of labour (like 'bloody show' or my waters breaking), I wanted to wait until the surges were coming every few minutes before we actually left the house for the hospital, not wanting to be one of those couples who rushed in too early and had interminable waits for the next stage in unfamiliar, clinical surroundings and/or were made to go home in an anti-climatic manner.
I was even calm enough through my surges to have the presence of mind to wash and blowdry my hair, knowing if I did deliver soon I would not be allowed this luxury for a while.
Around 9am I asked Kishore to prep for Lara and himself to be dressed and breakfasted so we could head to hospital soon, while I sent messages to family members on both sides informing them 'today might be the day.'
My mother, who had briefly served as a midwife before going back into general nursing and then becoming a nursing tutor, prophetically stated that if what I was experiencing was true labour, "the baby would be out by noon".
The pace in which my surges grew closer together was surprisingly quicker than I expected; and while I asked Lara to "Hurry up with breakfast" with only a tad more urgency than we normally tell her to do, little Missy being prone to dilly-dallying at meals, I probably freaked Kishore out when about 930am onwards, I had to instinctively get on my hands and knees a couple of times, eyes closed, trying to practice the Hypnobirthing breathing techniques I had revised to help along the process of my body birthing our child into the world.
I recall him saying a bit frantically as I knelt at our front door, doubled over as he waited for Lara to complete something or other, "Lara hurry up! Can't you see Mama is in so much pain and you are taking your own sweet time??!!"
SIDETRACK: Just the night before, Lara and I had watched a TV show in which a woman gave birth with the usual histrionics accompanying pop culture depictions of labour.
Lara watched the scene, transfixed.
I told her, simply and matter-of-factly, "That's what Mama has to do to get baby brother out Lara, and that's what I had to do for you also."
In most of interactions with my daughter, I have sought to equip her to face life's situations with calmness, truthful common sense, and ideally a minimum of drama.
Those who know the dramatic diva that Lara can be will know that this is a work-in-progress, but her response to me that night showed me some of my 'teachings' were sinking in:
She looked at me unfazed, "But Mama," she said. "You won't cry and scream like that lady, right? You will be BRAVE and stay calm, right?"
#nopressure.
So as we prepped to leave for the hospital I did indeed attempt to be that role model of calm for her, asking her only for her help in keeping very quiet,
"Because Mama needs to focus on bringing baby brother out and she needs quiet to concentrate...".
As we left the house at 10.11am, I texted Kishore's sister Geetha to please prep to pick up Lara from the hospital, and was grateful Kishore had the foresight to ask our gynae to prepare a letter for Geetha to show any police roadblocks between my in-laws' home in Subang Jaya and the hospital in Bangsar, this all happening under the Movement Control Order (MCO).
To Lara's credit, in the journey over to the hospital, she - probably sensing the gravity of the situation, sat very quietly in her seat at the back, and the silence was punctuated only by my occasional deep intakes of breath and some variation of my Ohmmm-like moans when the sensations were at their height.
By the time we got to Pantai Hospital at around 10.30am, my surges were strong enough I requested a wheelchair to assist me in getting to the labour ward, as I did not trust my own legs to support me... and Kishore would have to wait until Geetha had arrived to take Lara back to my in-laws' house before he himself could go up.
I slumped in the wheelchair and was wheeled up to the labour room with my eyes closed the whole time, trying to handle my surges.
I didn't even look up to see the attendant who pushed me... but did make the effort to thank him sincerely when he handed me over, with what seemed like a palpable sense of relief on his part, to the labour ward nurses.
The nurse attending me at Pantai was calm, steady and efficient. I answered some questions and changed into my labour gown while waiting for Kishore to come up, all the while managing the increasingly intense surges with my rusty Hypnobirthing breathing techniques.
By the time Kishore joined me at around 11am (I know these timings based on the timestamps of the 'WhatsApp live feed' of messages Kishore sent to his family), I was asking the nurse on duty, "How soon can I get an epidural??" thinking what crazy woman thought she could do this without drugs???!!!
The nurse checked my cervix dilation, I saw her bloodied glove indicating my mucous plug had dislodged, and she told me, "Well you are already at 7cm (which, for the uninitiated, is 70% of the way to the 10cm dilation needed for birthing), you are really doing well, if you made it this far without any drugs, if can you try and manage without it... I suspect within 2 hours or less you will deliver your baby and since it will take about that time for the anaesthesiologist to be called, epidural to be administered and kick in... it might all be for nothing... but of course the decision is completely up to you... "
So there I was, super torn, should I risk the sensations becoming worse... or risk the epidural becoming a waste?? And of course I was trying to decide this as my labour surges were coming at me stronger and stronger...
I was in such a dilemma...because as a 'recovering approval junkie' there was also a silly element of approval-seeking involved, ("The nurse thinks I can do this without drugs... maybe I CAN do this without drugs... Yay me!") mixed with that element of curiosity I mentioned earlier ("What if I actually CAN do this without drugs... plenty of other women have done it all over the world since time immemorial.. no big deal, how bad can it be...??") so then I thought I would use the financial aspect to be the 'tiebreaker' in my decision making...
I asked the nurse how much an epidural would cost and when she replied "Around MYR1.5k", I still remember Kishore's incredulous face as I asked the question, i.e."Seriously babe, you are gonna think about money right now? If you need the epidural TAKE IT, don't worry about the money!!!"... and while we are not rich by any stretch of the imagination, thankfully RM1.5k is not a quantum that made me swing towards a decision to "better save the money"...
So in the end, I guess my curiosity won out, and I turned down the epidural "just to see what it would be like and if I had it in me" (in addition of course to avoiding the side effects of any drugs introduced into my and the baby's body).
My labour occuring in the time of coronavirus, it was protocol for me to have a COVID19 test done, so the medical staff could apply the necessary precautions. I had heard from a friend Sharon Ruba that the test procedure was uncomfortable, so when the nurse came with the test kit as I was starting another surge, I asked, "Please can I just finish this surge before I do the test?" as I really didn't think I could multitask tackling multiple uncomfortable sensations in one go.
The COVID19 test involved what felt like a looong, skinny cotton bud being inserted into one nostril... I definitely felt more than a tickle as it went in and up, being told to take deep breaths by the nurse. Then she asked me to "Try to swallow" and I felt it go into my nasal cavities where I didn't think anything could go any further, but was proven wrong when she asked me to swallow again and the swab was probed even deeper. Then she warned me there would be some slight discomfort as she prepared to collect a sample... but at that point all I could think about was:
(i) I really don't have much of a choice
(ii) please let this be over before my next surge kicks in
(iii) if all the people breaking the MCO rules knew what it feels like to do this test maybe they won't put themselves at risk of the need to perform one...
In full disclosure as I was transferred into the actual delivery room at some point after 11am, another nurse offered me 'laughing gas' to ostensibly take some of the edge off... I took the self-operated breathing nozzle passed to me but don't recall it making any difference to my sensations..so didn't use it much as it seemed pretty pointless.
I recall some measure of relief when I heard my gynae Dr. Paul entering the room, greeting Kishore and me, and telling us it was going well and it wouldn't be long now and he would see us again shortly.
From my previous labour with Lara I knew the midwives pretty much take you 90% of the way through the labour and when the Dr is called in you are really at the home stretch, so was very relieved to hear his voice though knowing he would leave and come back later meant it wasn't quite over yet.
I do remember realising when I had crossed the Thinning and Opening Phase of labour to the Birthing Phase, by the change in sensations... it is still amazing to me that as the Hypnobirthing book mentioned, having this knowledge I was instinctively able to switch breathing techniques for the next stage of labour .
Was my opting against epidural the right choice for me?
Overall? Yes.
Don't get me wrong.
I *almost* regretted the decision several times during active labour... especially when I felt my body being taken over by an overwhelming compulsion to push that did not seem conscious and was accompanied by involuntary gutteral moans where I literally just thought to myself, "I surrender, God do with me what you will..." (super dramatic I know but VERY real at the time...).
I think I experienced 3-4 such natural explusive reflexes (?), rhythmically pushing the baby down the birth path, one of which was accompanied by what felt like a swoosh of water coming out of a hose with a diameter the size of a golf ball... this was when I realised my water had finally broken...
The nurses kept instructing me to do different things, to keep breathing, to move to my side, then to move to the middle, to raise my feet... and when I didn't comply, Kishore (who was with me throughout both my labours) tried to help them by repeating the instructions prefaced with "Sayang..." but I basically ignored all the intructions because I felt I had no capacity to direct any part of my body to do anything and someone else would have to physically manoeuvre that body part themselves.
When I heard Dr. Paul's voice again and the flurry of commotion surrounding his presence, I knew the time was close... and when I heard the nurse say to Kishore, "Sir, these are your gloves, for when you cut the baby's cord", it was music to my ears...
I'm very, VERY grateful Kiaen slid out after maybe the 4th of those involuntary pushes... the wave of RELIEF when he came out so quickly... it still boggles my mind that my mother was essentially right and as his birth time was 12.02pm, it was *only* about 1.5 hours between our arrival at the hospital and his arrival into the world.
Kiaen was placed on my chest for skin to skin bonding and remained there for a considerable time.
For our short stay in the hospital he would be with us in my maternity ward number C327... another trivially serendipitous sign for me because he was born on the 3rd (May) and our wedding anniversary is 27th (July).
I was discharged the following day 4th May at about 5.30pm, after I got an all clear on COVID19 and a paediatric surgeon did a small procedure on Kiaen to address a tongue-tie that would affect his breastfeeding latch... making the entire duration of our stay about 31 hours.
I have taken the time and effort to record all this down so that whenever life's challenges threaten to get me down I can remind myself, "Ignore the 97% failure probability, focus on the 3% success probability".
Also that the human condition is miraculous and it is such a privilege to experience it.
To our son Kiaen Aaryan, thank you for coming into our lives and choosing us as your parents.
Even though Papa and I are both zombies trying to settle into a night time feeding routine with you, I look forward to spending not only all future Mother's Days, but every day, with you and your Akka...
And last but not least, to my husband Kishore...without whom none of this would be possible - we did it sayang, I love you ❤️
Photo credit: Stayhome session with Samantha Yong Photography (http://samanthayong.com/)
i cord edge 在 Christopher Doyle 杜可風 Facebook 的精選貼文
伊瓜蘇在南美瓜拉尼語有「大水」的意思。總闊2.7公里,高82公尺的伊瓜蘇瀑布是世界三大瀑布之一。
在《春光乍洩》裡,瀑布群象徴梁朝偉的旅程終結….但往何處去?
接受愛人的離開?接受自己從來只是孑然一身?
這像我們現今面對疫情經常遇到的事。
面對不可抗力如大自然、病毒以至意外,人類如此微不足道。一切皆非我們而起,卻又無從控制。
我的工作不是要分析這幕戲,而是要拍攝它。
最初的概念是要從正上方拍攝瀑布。我們不是拍明信片照,要捕捉的是瀑布抽象的美,展現的某種活力。
當時唯一能做的,就是借直升機拍攝。可是,找來的都不是專門用來拍攝的直升機。面積很小,最多只能容納機師、我與攝影機和助手。
我們決定在直升機邊緣安裝一個架來安置攝影機,再綁上彈簧索,確保它拍攝時不會因懸吊機外而掉下去。
我坐在直升機地板上,雙腿懸吊在架外,唯一確保我安全就是腰間纏着的一條繩,它由助手牽着。
伊瓜蘇瀑布的流量是每秒1,75立方公尺,形成了巨大的拉力, 使我們要再飛高1千米才能拍攝到這瀑布,避免被大水吸進去。
我要拍一個抽象又超凡脫俗的瀑布,然而瀑布群本來又是旅遊點,周圍都是酒店、觀光船和觀景橋。
我們在上空盤旋…我不斷拍攝,但鏡頭總避不開那些酒店,因為我們還未能從瀑布正上方拍下去。
接著我想到一個方法,我向機師提議把直升機機身傾斜向瀑布中心。機師說他試著做。
他把直升機身傾側一方,我也意識自己縱身下去,上半身整個人已懸吊機外。跟死神距離不過是千米之隔,結果全繫於一條繩和一條彈簧索….. 我本有畏高…..或許瀑布群讓我有了「頓悟」…..明白到自己為何堅持拍電影,為何我們還要關心。
於是……我成就了攝影生涯一個最難忘的電影鏡頭:為《春光乍洩》揭開序幕,營造了它的調子。
Iguazu means "big water" the indigenous Guarini language. And being 2.7 kilometres wide, and dropping 82 metres on average these falls are the biggest in the world.
In "Happy Together" they represent the end of Tony’s Journey to …. to what ?
Acceptance of loss of his lover ? We are all alone in ourselves ?
This something Covid 19 is making us all face up to day to day .
How insignificant we are compared to the infinite force that is Nature,
and a virus or accidents that are not our fault and yet not under our control?
It is not my role to analyse the meaning of the scene . I was my job to film it.
The idea was to film the falls from above. Not as a picture postcard, but more like some abstraction of beauty, some kind of celebration of energy.
The only way to do that was by helicopter. The only helicopter available was not equiped for filming. And it was very small. In fact so small that it could carry only the pilot, myself and the camera and my assistant.
We plan to rig a frame around the helicopter and "secure" the camera with bungee cords so it hang suspended outside the helicopter .
I sit on the floor, but my legs have to rest on the frame OUTSIDE. The only thing holding me in is my assistant holding a rope around my waist .
The water flows at 1.756 metres per second over the falls, which creates such a down-pull that we have to fly a kilometre above the falls to avoid being sucked in to them .
The idea is to have an image that is abstract, other-worldly. Problem is that the Falls are also a tourist destination so Hotels and tour boats and bridges all press right up to their edge.
We circle above … I shoot. I can’t keep the hotels and such out of frame . We are not looking directly down enough . What to do ?
I have a bright idea : let’s tilt the helicopter on its side and just hover right over the falls I suggest . The pilot says he’ll try.
He tilts the helicopter . And then I realise I am face down half way outside this machine a kilometer away from death only held back by a rope and a bungees cord … and then in spite of my fear or heights …. Or maybe because of them I have a kind of “ epiphany “ … I realise why I am doing this, that’s we make films, why we care .
And so….we get one of the most memorable shots I have ever made : the one that opens and sets the mood for Happy Together.
Video 影片來源:《春光乍洩》“Happy Together”(1997)
Music音樂來源:Caetano Veloso “Cucurrucucu Paloma”
#春光乍洩 #HappyTogether #王家衛 #WKW #伊瓜蘇大瀑布 #IguazuFalls
i cord edge 在 Serrini Facebook 的最佳貼文
People are saving the world and living their lives meaningfully and all I do is whine like a teenager all the time.
(Lie down, roll over, grab knees, contemplate life, cry a little)
我是Veronica,一個在屋邨長大的八十後,原本是一家五口,有一個姊姊和一個妹妹,自小家裡已發生了很多大大小小的逆境。
我讀小學的時候,家裡時常發生很多爭吵,爸爸是自僱人士,因為當時經濟很差,我們的家庭面對很大困難。父母之間相處也常常有很大的磨擦,每晚當爸爸回家時,我們三姊妹都會躲在房間裡,不希望聽到當天吵架的原因。
在我大約五、六年級的時候,爸爸向我們表示再沒有能力供養我們四母女,建議將我們三姊妹送到社福機構寄養,他更向媽媽提出離婚。當時我們十分驚慌,只懂得不停哭泣,最後媽媽答應離婚,她沒有將我們送到社福機構,決心一個人將我們養大。
媽媽只是一個普通家庭主婦,沒有任何工作技能,要她重新投入社會工作,對她的壓力是非常大,日間需要上班,放工後要趕回家煮飯。我們三姊妹很快已經學懂要堅強和獨立,大家互相照顧,處理好自己的學業。我們讀書成績雖然平庸,但並不需要媽媽為我們的學業擔心。
在我十五歲的時候已經和姊姊下課後,開始兼職工作,幫補家中日常開支。但當我大約十六、七歲的時候,姊姊患上了急性白血病,也就是血癌。家中的壓力更加是百上加斤,姊姊需要停學進行化療,媽媽每天都要進出醫院,因此要減少工作,但要支付每天的住院費,家中的經濟也變得十分緊拙。當時一餐晚飯的預算只得十元,只能夠買芽菜配白飯,但我最喜歡的是煎蛋配白飯加豉油,價錢便宜,而且味道甚佳。我們一家人都沒有抱怨,有一餐便吃一餐,姊姊亦很勇敢,十分樂觀去面對,但她情況差的時候會嘔吐至不能下牀,當情況好的時候,她會很積極地往醫院當義工,幫助和安慰有需要的院友,亦會協助朋友教興趣班幫補收入,她亦很積極做運動。在她身上我學懂了什麽是真正的樂觀,凡事向好的方面去想。一兩年之後,她的病情已進入康復期,長時期都可以留在家中,只需要定時回醫院注射一些低劑量的化療針。我們一家人的生活已慢慢地回復正常,覺得最終都捱過了最困難的時期,但不幸的意外再次發生。在二零零七年,當姊姊往醫院覆診的時候,醫生將應該注射在靜脈的藥物,錯誤地往脊髓注射,當時並沒有留意到,一日之後姊姊覺得身體十分僵硬,數天後便被送往深切治療部,而且進入了半昏迷狀態。之後的十多天我們都在深切治療部陪伴著姊姊,最後醫生表示姊姊已經証實腦部死亡,建議拔喉讓她離世,姊姊便在我們一家人的身旁安詳地離開。
我們本來是一家五口,到現在只有一家三口,過了數年傷心和黑暗的日子。後來我們得到醫療失誤的賠償金,我決定用部分賠償金和空餘時間兼職賺來的收入來讀書進修,希望能夠完成姊姊讀書的心願,更希望有一天我能夠有能力使到家中的生活安穩起來。過了數年我完成了學士課程,我希望能夠繼績姊姊助人的心願,所以報讀了一個言語治療碩士課程,希望可以幫助一些有特殊需要的人士。今天我已經碩士畢業,成為一個治療師,可以為復康界作出一些微小貢獻。
每一個人一生中必定出現過大大小小的難關,部分人會在逆境中抱怨,選擇放棄、自殘、接觸毒品,有些人會變成邊緣青年誤入歧途。我一生中也出現過數次難關,父母離異的時候我選擇堅強,學懂獨立,家中經濟出現困難的時候,我積極外出找兼職,減輕家中的負擔。姊姊患病的時候,我們一家人都沒有抱怨,只是樂觀地去面對。到姊姊離世後,我努力增值自己,希望為家人帶來一個更加安穩的將來。經過了十多年的難關,今年我已經二十七歲,十分慶幸,每一次我所作出的都是正確選擇。我希望和大家分享的是,難關在何時出現,我們不能夠控制,但在難關當中,我們自己的心態和怎樣去面對,作出何種決定,我們是絕對有能力去選擇,難關雖然難過,亦可以關關過。
I am Veronica. I am an eighties child who grew up in a public housing estate. Originally, I hailed from a family of five. I have an elder sister and a younger sister. We had to overcome a lot of adversity among our family since we were young.
When I studied in Primary school, there were a lot of disputes among my family. My father was self-employed. As the economic situation was at a downturn at the time, we came across a lot of difficulties. There was a lot of friction between my parents. Whenever my father returned home, we three girls would hide in our room. It was because we did not want to hear our parents fighting.
During Primary five or six, my father expressed that he was unable to support us four anymore. He suggested sending us to a social welfare agency for foster care. He also suggested getting a divorce with my mother. We were all terrified. We only knew how to keep crying. In the end, my mother accepted the divorce. She did not send us to the social welfare agency. She was determined to raise us on her own.
My mother was only an ordinary housewife. She did not have any work experience. To find a job was very stressful to her. She had to work during the day and in the evening; she had to rush home to make dinner. We three girls learned how to be tough and independent. We took care of one another. We also handled our own studies. Our grades were average but we did not need our mother to worry about us academically.
When I was fifteen, I began working part-time jobs after I got off school. I had to help the family financially. But when I was around sixteen or seventeen years old, my elder sister had acute leukemia, which basically means blood cancer. The pressure at home was even greater. My elder sister had to stop her studies to undertake chemotherapy. My mother had to go to and from the hospital each day. In light of the situation at home, she had to give up some of her work. Our family life was in red light due to the daily hospital stay costs. At that time, we only spent around ten dollars on dinner each night. We could only buy bean sprouts to go with rice. But what I loved most was eggs with rice mixed with soy sauce. It was cheap and tasty. Our family did not whine and complain. We would enjoy each meal. My elder sister was also very brave. She faced her illness positively. When she was in bad shape, she would vomit so much that she could not get out of bed. When she felt better, she would proactively work as a volunteer in the hospital to help and support patients in need. She would also assist friends to teach interest classes to help the family. She also did a lot of exercise. I learned what real positivity was from my elder sister. I would think positively in all situations. After a year or two, my sister began to go into recovery phase. She was able to stay at home for a prolonged period of time. She only had to visit the hospital at regular intervals for low dosage chemotherapy injections. Our family lifestyle began to turn around and return to normal. We all felt that we have endured our most difficult times. But the most unfortunate accident took place. In the year 2007, when my elder sister went back to the hospital for a follow-up, the doctor wrongfully administered her medication into her spinal cord, when it should have been into her vein. It was not noticed at the time. After one day, my elder sister felt very rigid. After a number of days, she was sent to the ICU and drifted into a semi-coma. For the next ten or so days, we spent our time accompanying my elder sister. In the end, the doctor declared her brain dead. The doctor also suggested pulling the tube off her throat to allow her to leave the world. My elder sister passed away peacefully with family surrounding her.
From a family of five, we became a family of three. After a number of dark and depressing days, we eventually received compensation money for the medical error. I decided to use a partial amount of the compensation money along with the salary I made from my part-time jobs on further studying. I wanted to fulfil my elder sister’s dream of completing her own studies. I also hope that one day I could become a financial pillar to my family so that they can live a stable life. Over a number of years, I completed my degree. But I wanted to spread my sister’s spirit of helping those in need. That was why I applied for a speech therapy program. I hope to help those with special needs. Today, I have completed my masters degree. I am also a therapist. I can contribute in small ways to the rehabilitation community.
Each person will come across large and small obstacles in life. Some people will complain during adversity and choose to give up, self-destroy and do drugs. Some youth may even live on the edge and involve themselves in illicit activities. In my life, I have come across countless of obstacles. When my parents divorced, I chose to be strong and learned to become independent. When there was financial difficulty at home, I looked proactively for part-time jobs to alleviate the burden at home. When my sister was ill, we, as a family, did not complain. We only confronted everything positively. When my elder sister passed away, I worked hard to upgrade myself with the hopes of bringing a more stable future to my family. After ten years of arduous times, I am now twenty-seven years old. I have been very fortunate. I made the correct choice each time. I hope to share with you all that obstacles often manifest and we cannot control them. But during hard times, our attitude and how we approach those difficult dats; as well as our decision making, are all within our grasp. Obstacles may be hard to hurdle over but you can surely overcome them.