As you can imagine, the past two weeks blurred together like a bad dream. But it’s more like a reverse bad dream, where instead of waking up from the scary scene, I wake up right in the middle of the bad part.
Over one weekend, I flip-flopped 4 or 5 times on where it is best to seek treatment. Not to mention if we even had the option to return to Toronto for treatment. I was convinced that if we returned to Toronto, it means our Singapore adventures are over before it really began. But if we stayed for treatment in Singapore, the financial stress will slowly suffocate our spirits.
Apparently bad things comes in threes. After the cancer diagnosis, Rom really wanted for us to play volleyball, as it will be the last time before any treatment and allows us a few hours of feeling normal amidst all the chaos. Unfortunately, within the first game, he pulled a muscle leading to sciatic pains, causing him to be bedridden and in pain.
On top of this, two days prior to my parents’ arrival to Singapore from Hong Kong, the Singapore government decided to shut its borders to visitors who have travelled to China in the past 14 days in response to the Wuhan virus. (My parents frequently travel to China during their three-month stays in Hong Kong and was in China just last week, which means they are not allowed to enter Singapore.). I was really looking forward to showing them our new home, the place which captured our hearts and uprooted us halfway across the world. I had also planned to take them to Bali during their two-week holiday in Singapore, our first family trip in Asia since we were kids. Bali is one of those places that I’ve often dreamed about visiting since my twenties… a spiritual paradise with beautiful beaches, lush greenery, cheap massages, and lots of hippie shops (right up my alley!). With Rom’s condition, my parents stuck in Hong Kong, I joked that I would go on the trip on my own. (Which I would probably have, if I didn’t fly to Toronto instead)
Within a 48-hour period, my life completely turned upside down. I felt I lost complete control of my life. I couldn’t hold it together anymore, there are no solutions to solve these problems, there is nothing I can do. I succumbed to the emotions and broke down. It was in this exact moment, when I realized I needed to be home for my treatment. I need my parents’ to comfort me and tell me everything will be okay, I need my friends to lift my spirts up when I feel down and alone, I need to be home-home.
Unwritten 