Mother's Day dinner

Closest I can get to seafood in Japan ... lobster from Boston, and oysters from Canada, pasta presumably from Italy (but a lot of the pastas here are Australian) ... in any case, a cosmopolitan meal :)

Sunday pig out

We went to the Marriott for their dinner buffet as we were nearby for the Aids Candlelight Memorial. We were quite late, but there was 45 minutes left to the buffet seating and we figured we could do enough damage in the remaining time. The staff quite kindly warned us 10 minutes before the buffet officially ended and told us that we should load up on whatever else we wanted before they started clearing the buffet set-up. So L got himself another plate of meat entrees and dessert to share -- a plateful of the petit fours and cakes (one of every variety), a bowl of ice cream (one scoop of every flavour) and made himself a bowl of local shaved ice dessert at the assemble-it-yourself counter. He was very happy with all the food on the table.

Playing soldiers

L found his NS helmet. Don't you feel really safe now that you know the country is being protected by an army of citizen soldiers with Rasta hair?

And he's half my gene pool

The junior nurse was starting to panic.

She couldn't rouse my Dad. He was sitting up with his eyes shut, as if he was sleeping. He wouldn't respond to her calls, nor to her shaking him by the arm.

Mum was wise to his ways. She calmly told the nurse to take his vital signs -- pulse rate, blood pressure, oxygen level, temperature was all good.

He had done this before. Unused to not having his way, he retreated into a major sulk and pretended basically, to play dead.

The first time he did that, she went into a panic. Now, at the third time, she was an old hand.

But it freaked the junior nurse out, not surprisingly, and she had to fetch the staff nurse. Who was just as experienced as Mum.

"Uncle, would you like an ice cube?" she wheedled.

Immediately, his eyes flew open.

I love my Dad and feel for him, for all that he is going through, all the frustration, all the helplessness. But he is still a blooming butthole.

Quality of life

Some years ago, when I heard about Living Wills and Advanced Medical Directives, I thought they were a pretty good idea. While you are of sane mind and full capacity, you basically sign a Do Not Resuscitate order that lets your family pull the plug without any guilt on their part.

But now I realise, there's a big component missing that the AMDs do not cover. They all presuppose that you're plugged in.

How much quality of life do you have when you cannot eat nor drink, cannot move about without assistance and cannot hear or see much.

When my old pug reached that stage, I knew that I had to have that little talk with the vet. The day that he couldn't eat was the day we had that talk.

When Dad gradually lost his hearing and his sight, he didn't care that he couldn't watch much television -- he said he wasn't missing much because even before that, he only watched sports because he didn't have to follow a conversation or a plot. By then, he couldn't read for more than a 5-minute stretch. But he delighted in his food. But now, even that is denied him. Worse, it is horrible to deny water to a thirsty person.

While I'm not saying that I am about to put anybody down, it's just so much harder with a person. More strings, more what-ifs, more baggage. I used to think that making the decision to put down a dog was the hardest thing to do. Now, it seems like that was the most straightforward decision. Beats sitting around powerless to do anything to help.

No turkey this Christmas

Why are holidays and family gatherings all about food? Now that Dad has a feeding tube and cannot eat, and is spending Christmas in hospital, I have no idea how to do Christmas for him.

It's not the first time he's had to spend Christmas in hospital. Two years ago, he was in the same step-down care facility after his coronary bypass. Then, we had a picnic in his room and he was delighted by a slice of turkey and stuffing the hospital provided and the Christmas cake we bought.


This year, Christmas food is going to be out of the picture. Luckily, there are always presents. I found a gift towel that's packaged in a wedge shape and decorated to look like a slice of cake, complete with faux icing and soap chocolate-drizzled kumquat. I hope Dad hasn't lost his sense of humour even though he's been quite grumpy the past week.

It's Chinese New Year that I don't want to think about, when Reunion Dinner is the whole point of Chinese New Year's Eve.