long.

//hearing aid: fields of gold - eva cassidy
//mood. i hate unity

unity is the nursing home my granny has been transferred to.
our family doesn't want to choke up hospital bills. according to the docs, everything but her heart is failing. she's struggling to hang on.

i went to unity today. the minute i got out of the car, the smell of powder, pee and death overwhelmed me.
walking thru the wards just made me feel helpless.
it felt like a transistion.

my granny has a bed next to a huge window that overlooks a basketball court and a beautiful upgraded heartland.
the sheets are clean, the nurses friendly, the place a sullen yellow. there are other old women in her ward who seem trapped in their own bodies.

everyone there has a similar face. liver spotted, with helplessness written all over. their eyes seem to lose hope of ever seeing happiness every again. i think i saw tears.

when i walked into the ward, i saw my granny. she had shrunk even smaller then i remembered. lying on her side, her face seemed so sad. i walked to her and said hi. but my dad said don't.
it hurts him to not speak to her too. but according to some buddhist nun (no offence to anyone here), she must be left in isolation so she can go off in peace.

i think its the most cruel thing anyone can ever do.

put her in the world's most dreary place then leave her to struggle and immobile. (the latest stroke left her left side of the body paralysed and her muscles around her mouth atrophied.) and the worse part? there's is placard at each bed that has a picture of the patient with tubes and looking sick and all. On the card is 'my name is:', 'i speak:" and 'i am unique because'.

'i am unique because i need to watch my diet'
'i am unique because i stay awake all the time'
'i am unique because i need you to help me with oral hygiene'
unity mocks you when u are helpless. please, these people are dying. be tactful.

when i excused myself to walk out, my brother asked if i was ok. i shook my head.
"is it because it dawned on you it might be you on that bed sixty years from now?"

"no you fucking shithole. its because it dawned on me it could be you, mom or dad on that bed a week from now. life's a bitch. you never know when its gonna bite at you." with that i exited.

a huge commotion then happened just as i stepped back into the ward. my grandma starting crying.
huge drops of tears were streaming down her face. the whole family was trying to hush her but the more we coax the more tears came down. since she couldn't speak or move, she cooed and cooed.

"she wants to speak but she can't. she just can't!" my aunt burst. the nurse adviced us to leave at once. it was getting too emotional for her.

we watched at they drew the curtains around her bed. they've been using this sucking device to suck out all the mucus because she can't do it on her own. the sound of her coughing and cooing and the sound of the device is the worst song i have ever heard. there's a slight rhythm to it. a sick sonata.

so without a goodbye, we all just disappeared. walked past the woman who was tied to her own bed, past the woman whose glassy eyes stared into the blankness and past the last one next to the window. she stares out hopefully.

i sit here wondering what she's thinking now. a women trapped in her own body. with both physical and emotional trauma and pain. i wonder if she's sobbing, unable to lift her hands to catch her own tears and to wipe her mucus. i wonder if she's trying to say i love u in cantonese to every single one of us, but her body refuses to let her. i feel so guilty for enjoying myself the past few days. i didn't even think she heard my happy birthday to her.

i vowed to myself and to desmond i will never put anyone of my family members into that place. i'll hire a maid, pay for a hospital, anything. i don't want them to suffer before they die.

ah ma, let go. its time for you to be happy.