It has been an interesting journey, to say the least.
From trying to find a job, to finally getting one - itself was a journey of faith. God is faithful, I'm the one being trained in faithfulness. From his timing, his choice of location, to the company I'd work with, the terms of employment, it is in God's perfect will & timing. I sure wished it to be quicker, more exotic, and plush, but I've decided to let God be God, and stop trying to advise Him on how to run my life.
I started being open to another job, some 1.5 years back.
A work arrangement, which meant to be temporary, turned out to be temp for more than 9 months, I was just traveling between 50% to 75%, which was quite unsustainable. What I thought to be initially manageable, started to take a toil on the family. I didn't have a choice.
The straw that broke the camel's back, was the company's decision to relocate me from Vietnam, back to Singapore. With the same job, and in fact plans to expand to another country, the traveling would only increase - and I knew for certain, I had to find another job.
In God's timing, I started going for interviews. Initially, my search was focused on overseas jobs. I gave myself till end 2010, then focused on Singapore jobs.
A couple of jobs, went to 3 and some nearly 4 interviews. I was certain one of those jobs, would close - the fit was just.... perfect. Strangely, God closed those doors.
Trusting in God's sovereignty, started to get "frustrating".
Trying to understand what plans he has for me, beyond comprehension.
I kept telling myself, God's plans and timing are always perfect - and trying my hardest to believe it.
And I stopped telling our prayer partners, about the job status - after so many near-misses.
Month after month, there were just more frustrations.
Time was ticking. The movers were going to come in on 24 June. I couldn't confirm the destination, and kept delaying my reply from May, 1st week of June, 2nd week of June, to finally - they told me the last cut-off to tell them of any change, is 22 June.
Finally, my official letter of employment came... on 21 June evening. Too close for comfort!
But through God's sovereign hands, the move was all sorted, and everything went smoothly - and we were ready to leave Vietnam on 1 July for good, with a peace of mind.
HOLIDAY TIME!
I had long planned to go on an extended family holiday (with my folks, and brother's fam in London). I always wanted to go Italy, and my wonderful wife, planned it out perfectly.
1st stop - Rome.
It was hot. 40 degrees most days.
Colosseum by night. |
1st few days, my mum was super gungho - walking everywhere, refusing taxi when we knew she was tired, even telling the guide how at 73, she was used to walking alot (refusing the lift up 2nd floor). By day 4 or so, she started to tire easily. Add to her not really sleeping well at nights (jet lag?), the tiredness was catch up on her, we guessed.
Walking through the streets of Assisi |
Just a stop over for a night. Quint little town, very medieval. We loved walking through the town, and thankfully, there weren't many people.
That day, Mum finally crashed out that day, she slept for nearly 24 hours, waking for meals, but strangely just really groggy.
3rd stop - Florence.
Duomo at dusk |
But the cooking class we did was fun; 1st time using the Segway (except one breaking down, and we were stuck for 1 hour plus). Pix of Duomo on the right, the whole city (it isn't very big), kinda revolves around that.
Mum's left leg started to swell. A doctor said it was thrombosis - nothing very serious.
She went with us, to all those cities - although she was tired quite a lot. My dad spent 1 whole day, looking for a foldable cane, for my mum - and she was elated at his efforts - when she got it.
Mum was ok during the cooking class - but suddenly, in the afternoon - got the chills. I was down with the flu, so happily took my mum back in a taxi to rest.
The next morning, my dad knocks on our door - saying that my mum is going to the hospital.
Shocked out of our slumber, I went to their room - only to see 4-5 big ambulance personnel in the small little room of theirs. My mum had difficulty breathing in the morning - so my dad decided to call ambulance.
Late morning, I went to the hospital. Saw my mum struggling with the tubes.
They gave her an oxygen mouth thingee, and she hated it! And also insisted on eating, although the nurses said that she couldn't coz they needed to run tests on her - to find out what is wrong. They had no choice, but to sedate her. Little did I know, that that was the last time I would see my mum conscious.
Entrance to the ICU area |
Later that day, they came back with the prognosis - Septic Shock.
Erm, ok. Nothing registers. My brother calls at night, asking me to read up on Septic Shock.
Oh.... not good. >50% mortality rate. Mum is transferred to sub-ICU unit, then to the ICU.
When we met the ICU doctor, this nice lady, just kept saying sorry, and even gave each one of us a hug!
I was stunned. It seems that it started from the right leg (which was strangely the good leg) infection, that went into the blood stream, and "exploded" through the system.
Kidneys were the first to shut down, and so they had to put her on a dialysis machine.
They pumped through the strongest anti-biotics available.
Day 2 and 3, no real progress. Body is not quite responding to the anti-biotics. Infection seems to have spread to the tissues, and can see blood blotches on the right leg. This spreads daily, first day, lower leg. 2nd day, upper leg. 3rd day, body. They tried blood culture, but found nothing as the bacteria was wiped out by the anti-biotics. They tried tissue culture, to see if they can find which strain of bacteria. Also put in a special dialysis machine, to filter out the Sepsis in the blood as well. Things are uncertain. Doctors asked us whether we wanted to call priest in.... which we agreed. So some priest came, did his thing in italian or latin, shook our hand, and left. He didn't speak any English, and we didn't speak any Italian, so had no idea what he did (last rites? said some prayer?). This could last a day, or even months. No one knows.
Day 4 seems to be the turning point.
We spent lots of time in the waiting area. |
Oh, there is also possibly a lung tumor too. Also the high temp of 40 degrees (despite being covered in ice). Not good, but in light of what else is happening, don't worry about at this stage.... interesting how one's perspective changes.
I counted, at least 9 syringes of things going in my mum, plus dialysis machine, plus other machines and tubes. If my mum wakes up, she'll freak out completely.
Plans to go Venice, are scrapped.
Not knowing how long mum's condition will be, my family leaves on originally planned return date of 21 Jul, Wed; brother's family on 22 Jul, Thur. I stay on to accompany my dad - which was really great, because we got to talk lots - more than I ever had, in my entire life, accumulated.
I learned about his grandparents, his parents, my uncles and aunties. How life was growing up, how poor they were. My dad excelled in school (genes... didn't get inherited) and he got his ticket out of poverty by getting a Colombo plan scholarship to Queensland - where he lived a rather.... colorful life.
On Friday afternoon, things were bad. My mum heart rate, started to fluctuate - it went from 110, to 30 in seconds. Doctors, tell us to expect the worst - they don't expect anything more than a day or 2.
We call my brother, now in London, to try and get back here.
He tells me to convey a message for my mom's younger sis, that they'll be ok, that my mum can go peacefully.
It was the hardest thing for me to do. I didn't want to do it.
But I did walk to my mum's side, held my mum's hand, and said it for my aunt.
I fought hard, to hold back my emotion. Barely.
My brother manages to get a flight, supposed to arrive midnight. But flight is delayed, and only arrives at 3am.
My mobile rings in the middle of night, jolting me from my sleep. In my stupor, I stumble for the phone, before accidentally pressing the "button" instead of "answer". Italian number.
A minute later, the room phone rings, I answer it, and the hotel says that we should hurry to the hospital. I convey the message to my dad, and he simply replies "ok". I call my brother, who is in the taxi on the way to the hotel, and he diverts to meet us at the hospital.
The walk to the hospital, a familiar walk we've done day after day, is a quiet one - there aren't many people around, we walk a brisk, quiet, sombre walk.
At the hospital reception, they stop us, asking why we are there. I tell them that the ICU called. They refuse to let us through. After an agonizing, and thoroughly annoying 5 minutes, they finally let us through.
Buzzing the ICU door, my brother opens the door. We are 5 minutes too late, he says. I fume.
We walk towards the bed, and see my mum's lifeless body. It doesn't hit me. It just feels... surreal.
I find out, that she actually passed away at 3.15am, and then they called us - we would have been too late, anyway.
She's been called home.
After a life of physical ailments, she has been wonderfully healed - permanently.
No more discontent, no more complains. No more maid problems. She is in the bosom of Jesus - where she will find perfection, true peace, true contentment.
The last 6-8 months, have been perhaps the most... challenging time for me.
But God has been teaching me to trust in him, His will and timing is always perfect.
Jeremiah 29:11
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
1 comment:
Bro... Thanks for sharing this. I can only imagine how you felt during the whole process of having no confidence in finding a job... finally finding one.. then going on a holiday... to having to watch your mother fight for her life... and then losing the fight.
Indeed it is only through times like this that we really understand what faith means.
Please let us know how we can pray for you brother. PM me on Facebook?
God be with you and your family always.
Jianlong
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