Mengantuk

Last night Sun decided that 'naps' are just as good as 'sleep'. So he went to bed at 10, took a quick nap and woke up at 2 am all geared up to play again. According to him, lying on his back with a toy is NOT playing. Climbing, and standing are okay. And a toy is only interesting and worthy of attention for about two seconds only. Oh and forbidden items like mommy's handphone, her owl-glasses or ubat nyamuk are the best of toys.

And so I wasn’t able to sleep, because he kept going to the edge of the bed or climbed on me to get to the FORBIDDEN bedside table. That was 2 am.

3 am.
He was still clambering all over the place. I was oh-so-tired. Slapped his pampers-ed butt and he howled back angrily but no, his mind was set. Playtime meant, playtime.

4 am.
I woke up Yamtuan. I had cooking to do. Glad to have chores in the kitchen. I promise you looking after a wriggly Sun can deplete all your ramadhan pahalas (not that i have a lot to begin with). From the kitchen I could hear Yamtuan fighting with the Sun. Sukahati lah!

4.30 am.
The fighting got rowdier. Huh! Boys! A girl gotta do what a girl gotta do. So I wrestled Yamtuan Senior off Junior. Distract the little one with his usual emmm…, milk pot. Thank God he fell asleep, but not before I did!

5 am.
Yamtuan woke me up.
‘sahur! sahur!’
And we ate nasi with sambal sadin and sayur timun. And had our usual mug of teh tarik. Yamtuan watched a bit of football and soon conked out. I cooked lempeng bersambal for mak, cleared the kitchen, did laundry and ironing, repaired a pair of slacks (too long), mopped the floors etc. By the time I was done it was 6.30.

6.30 am
Woke up Yamtuan. Showered (not together of course, puasa kan?), siap-siap, woke the kids up (great satisfaction when waking up Sun, padan muka, nyet-nyet-nyett.. :op kacau tidur orang lagi!) and went to work.

1000 am.
This one O&G company did a presentation. I was SO sleepy throughout. Trying hard not to doze off by writing notes. Concentrate. Concentrate.

Now.
Reading back my notes, aiyoh, like a drunkard!

~ Authorised capital increased to RM 10 mill. Paid up is RM 5 mill.
~ I am so mengantuk it is not even funny.

~ Average usage is 3 to 78 christmas trees per platform.

~ Technology requested will splat all over toilets.

~ Christmas tree and Uncle Tom is sad. (whoa!.. I am currently reading Uncle Tom’s Cabin)
~ Girls finding comfort with each other call me please.
~ Lone leeeee, I am so lone leeeee, I have no bod eeeeeeeee

There were more lines but that is what they are, lines, uintelligible handwriting. Not even James Bond can crack the code. I must have been brain-asleep as i wrote all that! So how am I gonna goreng a report of that presentation to boss?

Aku, Dia dan Setem

Semua orang mempunyai hobi tersendiri. Seperti semua orang lain, saya juga mempunyai hobi. Hobi saya ialah mengumpul setem.

Dengan mengumpul setem, kita dapat mempelajari banyak perkara tentang negara lain. Warna dan corak nya yang berbagai-bagai dan berwarna-warni amat menghiburkan hati saya. Mengumpul setem juga memberi saya peluang berkenalan dengan ramai sahabat baru yang mempunyai hobi yang sama. Dengan mereka saya boleh bertukar-tukar setem.

Pada zaman dahulu kala, saya sering pergi ke Jabatan Perkhidmatan Pos untuk membeli setem kenang-kenangan. Saya suka pergi ke sana. Malahan, semasa umur saya 6 tahun, cita-cita saya ialah menjadi kerani penjual setem di Pejabat Pos. Saya gemar menulis surat dan seronok menerima kunjungan dari Encik Posmen setiap pagi.

Apabila saya bersekolah di asrama penuh. Kedatangan mel amatlah menyeronokkan. Menerima surat, poskad dan aerogramme adalah sesuatu yang amat dinanti-nantikan. Ketika itu saya ada ramai sahabat pena. Mereka saya perolehi dari rancangan televisyen, Big Blue Marble. Ada sahabat dari Iraq, Amerika dan United Kingdom. Surat dari mereka akan datang dengan stem yang cantik-cantik. Seronok sungguh!

Seminggu sekali, van besar berwarna merah akan masuk ke kawasan sekolah. Kami akan beratur panjang untuk pelbagai urusan. Ketika itu keluar-masuk duit pon boleh dilakukan di sana. Kalau mak-abah mengirimkan money order atau postal order, disitu lah saya akan beratur. Van itu besar, mungkin ia sebenarnya lori. Saya sentiasa terpaksa memanjat dengan kaki terjuntai-juntai untuk urusan. Kedatangannya amatlah dinanti-nantikan.

Kadang-kadang bila menulis surat saya akan menggunakan stem berbagai nilai. Ketika itu, stem untuk poskad adalah 15 sen, dan surat 20 sen. Sebagai contoh, saya akan membeli stem bernilai 1 sen dan menampal 20 keping di atas sampul surat. Kadang-kadang stem itu ditampal bersusun-susun dan bertindih-tindih. Di bahagian belakang sampul surat saya akan tulis ucapan terimakasih untuk Encik Posmen yang rajin dan baik hati.

Seronoknya bermain stem!


Selepas tamat tingkatan 5, semasa menunggu panggilan ke universiti, saya isi masa lapang dengan menulis berkajang-kajang surat untuk rakan-rakan sekolah. Setiap hari saya akan menerima purata 20 pucuk surat! Menjelang tiba hari raya pula, kad ucapan yang saya terima teramatlah banyaknya. Seperti seorang artis! Dari setiap negeri yang berlainan, gambar sultan pada setemnya juga berlainan. Gembira! Di musim hari raya, kakitangan Jabatan Perkhidmatan Pos sehingga tidak menang tangan mengecop kad-kad yang dikirim. Setiap musim perayaan, mesti ada jawatan sementara untuk menyusun dan mengasingkan kad-kad ini. Untuk membeli setem pula, kita mungkin terpaksa beratur panjang sehingga beberapa kali lipat.

Namun sejak kebelakangan ini, sejak e-mail menggantikan snail mail, saya jarang sekali menerima surat. Bil adalah. Itu banyak! Bosan sungguh. Koleksi setem saya tidak bertambah. Tentulah kini saya tiada masa lagi untuk mengikuti perkembangan keluaran terbaru setem kenang-kenangan!

Saya lihat di kedai Pos Berhad, teller penjual setemnya bukan sahaja sangat menang tangan, malahan mendapat kemenangan mudah. Kalau ada barisan panjang di kaunter, selalunya untuk urusan pembayaran bil sahaja. Bil lagi!

Raya akan menjelang tak lama lagi. Satu-satunya kad raya yang sudah saya terima adalah dari Menara Optometrics, itu pun kad rayanya merangkap kupon untuk diskaun! Ini perbuatan tidak ikhlas! Ucapan hari raya berbetuk e-greeting adalah. Tapi tak sama, tak ada setem. Syarikat-syarikat yang saya bayar bil mereka setiap bulan itu, tidak pula menghantar kad raya! Tidak mengenang budi sungguh.

Mungkin saya terpaksa berlaku seperti Mr.Bean, mengirimkan kad hari raya kepada diri sendiri. Tak dapatlah saya berpantun 'pecah kaca pecah gelas, lepas baca harap balas'.



Selamat hari raya kepada semua sahabat dan kenalan dan handai dan taulan. Semoga hari raya kita semua hari yang diberkati dan penuh dengan kebaikan dan kasih sayang. Semoga perjalanan dan urusan kita semua sentiasa dalam lindungan dan rahmatNya.

Sekian.

Second Surgery

She went through the first op on Monday morning at 0900hrs. Had two toes removed. The third and fourth toe of the right foot. She was groggy and weak the whole of Monday but rose up better on Tuesday. She even attempted walking the short distance to the loo. She still complained of pain but she said the pain was more from the cut, something that she could tolerate. Nothing at all like the throbbing pain of a dying limb.

On Wednesday morning they said the wound was infected. So she was to go through another op to remove the second toe now. Her op was called 'emergency', so they would do her after all the scheduled ones. She was to fast.

And fast she did, from midnight to the next day's midnight. Still it wasnt her turn. It just so happened that there were many many emergency cases that was more urgent. A lot of ruptured stomachs and main arteries dontknowwhat.

And her pain was getting worse. She was in pain, and in great hunger and thirst too. The anxiety wasnt helping either.

At one point, she became disoriented. She woke up looking for her kitchen. Sometimes i saw her stirring empty air and when asked, she said she was making tea. She cried and hugged a Dr Waddah and asked for food. And i cried too. For the first time since she became sick, i cried. Kak Teh did say, let go, cry and be better. And i did feel better after that.

And so they let her eat one meal - not that she could eat a lot - and made her fast and wait again.

Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Sunday. Same routine. Eat one meal, and this they would probably allow after midnight and there would not be a lot of options at that time of the day. So she would have to settle with cold meals or dry meals like biscuits and breads. And continue fasting.

By Saturday the pain was worse. She needed morphine again. And the infection was getting worse too. I saw them do dressing and i saw the unhealthy flesh. It wasnt red. It was very pale pink, almost white with slight yellow tinge. A dressed chicken would have healthier colour.

And she was feverish too. They couldnt give her paracetamol so we sponged and sponged her. And the surgeon said they would have to cut half her foot or attempt further up where there would be some bleeding. They wouldnt accept her signature of consent. Unlike the first op, they want this time a waris to sign. Her op would be riskier, because of all her cardiovascular problems.

"You cut half her foot because of the infection. But there is no guarantee that infection will not happen again. What if this new wound gets infected too?"
"We will have to cut again."
"Will the wound heals better once you've cut her at where the blood flow is better?"
"Better chance, yes. But perhaps slimmer than other people."

My sister signed the consent letter. But not without apologising profusely to Mak.

This Monday morning, at 4 am, they wheeled her - finally - into the OT. I wasnt at the hospital last night. My brother was there.

I am now at the office. It is 0830hrs and there is still no news. Her first op took 3 hours and recovery 2 hours. Maybe i will hear some news after 0900hrs.

I was actually planning to do all the alternative treatment after she was released. Maybe i should just take her out after this second op to try other options.

****************
1000 hrs.
My bro said surgery is over. Alhumdulillah!

Bad news:
~ they removed 40% of her foot.

Good news he has a load!
~ They removed only 40% of her foot. Could have been at the ankle or worse.
~ Mak is recovering in her room, not ICU.
~ There is FRESH BLOOD on the bandage! Not a lot but bandage is bloodied nevertheless. Yey!
~ Mak is resting well with help from morphine.

Newsflash!

News!

1. On my mom;
There is infection at the wound. So the doctors plan to do another surgery. One surgeon said, remove another toe. The other surgeon said, cut all toes. The op was supposed to be yesterday. We are still queuing for her turn.

2. Ward mate;
Remember the auntie who went, 'matilah katak'? She died yesterday evening. May she rest in peace, amen.

3. I will receive my FIRST paycheque from here next tuesday!! Yippidity yey yey!

4. My mom-in-law has been released from hospital (she was warded last week). She is still weak but recovering. She's here now, senang hati me and her son.

5. I havent lost any weight, despite half way through Ramadhan. Can someone please cancel Syawal? Or postpone?

The Eclipse

There was moon eclipse last night? Eggs were supposed to stand. Did they? Any witness?

While some eggs stand upright and do the march, I conked out as usual, oblivious to all the humpty doing the dumpties. I was too tired to moon-gaze.

Mak had her operation yesterday morning. My sister came down so she stayed with Mak the night before the operation. Mak would be Case No.2 at OT3. My sister texted me to hurry because Case No.1 is a minor surgery, hernia or something. I was at Putra Taman Jaya when the sms came in. And heart pounding, I boarded the train, it was 0800. At Sentral, I switched to Monorel and got off at Chow Kit station. From there, I ran to the hospital. Was it a bird? Was it a plane? No it was SuperOOD doing the sprint. Oh, the earth must have groaned!

I made it there just in time. They were wheeling Mak to the OT. I gave her a hug and whispered some zikir in her ears. She seemed so forlorn, small and scared.

It was 0900 hours. And the waiting begun.

I read a book by James Folliet, one about U-Boats and German, British, Ian Fleming, magnetic war heads and radar. Great book!

And went to check on her. 1200 hours. Still in OT, said the HA.

I read another book. Now this one is a difficult read. The International Jiu by Henry Ford. Some of what he says, make sense. But I also think there is a bit of paranoia there. Interesting read nevertheless. Can be a bit yawny though.

And went out to check on her. 1300 hours. In recovery room, said the HA.

I decided to wait at the OT lobby.

Met an ex school friend. She is a specialist there now. That makes two ex-school friend being specialists at GH.

Mak’s vascular surgeon came out.

‘she’s not out yet? We were done by noon. There was a bit of a complication just now. Her heart was stressed. Maybe that is why they keep her longer in Recovery Room.’ Said he.

‘Is she okay?’ I asked.

‘We can’t do bypass. We couldn’t find a good vessel. They are all very constricted. Some are even less than 1mm. And so we can’t fix the problem.’

And he went on describing the bad news further. I was actually hoping for the problem to be clogged vessel. At least then it would be localised and repair-work can be done. If there is no clogging but constriction of vessels throughout, then I would hope a bypass could help solve the problem. Now bypass is not possible.

‘So what is going to happen?’
‘We wait and see. The healing process will be affected, we expect it to be very slow.’
‘will the other toes turn black too?’
‘eventually yes. All the way to the knee. But we wait and see. Diabetes will constrict blood vessels. It is an eventuality. It will happen not just at the toes, but all over. We are more worried about the lack of supply to the brain and heart.’

Not very good news. No. And I shivered. Maybe it was the air-cond, maybe because I was fasting. But it was suddenly very cold that I shiver.

The OT door opened and Mak was wheeled out. Blinking back tears I went to walk beside her. Me on one side, my sis on the other side. Back to her room.

And she slept on. Once in a while she woke and took a sip of water. Vomitted green bile-like gut-content. And when the GA wore off, she sought our faces. And she asked me a question. Serious tone. Not a smile on her face. She must know.

‘Do you love me?’
‘Of course I do. I love you very much, Mak. Why do you ask?’
‘I just want to know’ she replied and closed her eyes.

Well, I do love you Mak.

I am sorry I left home too early. I was 12 when I left for boarding school. And I never really returned home after that. University, work and now marriage are all my excuses. I was your full-time kid for only 12 years. And as much as I am thankful for all the opportunities given to me, my regret is that I left home too early.

And I am sorry too for all the silly dramas I pulled. I have always been the stubborn one. Both you and Abah gave me freedom and let me be as independent as rebellious me wanted to be. Believe me Mak, for as long as I carry Abah’s name as binti, I will always remember the values you instilled in me. The importance of maruah, ilmu, family etc etc.

I am sorry if I have been a disappointment. For each piece of your heart broken by me, and for each time your eyes shed tears because of me I am sorry a thousand times more.

I love you Mak. More than I can ever show or describe. Yes. I do.

Surgery is done but it is not the end of the battle. But she wont fight it alone. Why should she when she has her children?

*******************************
Pssstttt, suggestions on alternative treatment are welcome. I am actually a staunch beleiver in modern medicine but now i am willing to try anything! Dr House, advise? Friends, h e l p? I am told that constricted blood vessel is an irreversible condition, no?

Aiyoh Stories From Bed 26.

I wrote this from the hospital.

Story I
Went out breakfast with Yamtuan at Restoran Haslam. (Yes, yes, I was there because I hope to bump into the Datuk Yusof Haslam and make him star-struck by all my pesona bintang and so I get the pleasure to turn down his offer to star with Awie. I am eyeing for the leading role in Sepet II with Mawi, so of course I have to say no to Datuk.) It just so happened that the place is famous for nasi lemak ayam goreng and what with it being so near to GHKL, of course having breakfast there makes perfect sense.

Had my big plate of nasi lemak with ayam goreng. Tapau kuih some more. A girl must stock up for puasa la, that’s why la. Paid the bills and ready to go.

Car wouldn’t start. Aiyoh.

Yamtuan opened the front there, you know, where the engine is? Checked battery. All okay. We should have used Duracell ya? I joked but Yamtuan wasn’t in the mood. Car wouldn’t start, not funny. But radio lights all okay, so cannot be battery lah.

Called the workshop in Serdang Raya. Too far. He suggested another workshop nearer to tempat kejadian.

And while I was standing outside peering into the engine like I know what I was looking for, the engine started. Opocotmak indeed. Yamtuan was grinning.

‘How u repair? Wah so terrorist..’ I asked him, my hero that one.

He said, he forgot, the gear was at reverse. That was why the car wouldn’t start lah.

Oh. Like that.

Story II
It was past midnight. A young patient walked past the nurses’ station with a friend or family member i dont know. She had IV drip on one arm and walked aided. Face grimacing with every step. She was heading to the toilet.

A nurse and a doctor (and me) watched her painful procession.

‘Uh, wassat on the floor?’ the doctor.
‘dripping from patient.’ She added.

Nurse squinted.
‘Blood!’
‘Patient bleeding!’

The doctor got up and off she ran to the right. The nurse scooted to the left towards the toilet. At the toilet door, the friend/family stopped the nurse and whispered something to her. Her face changed.

‘Doctor!’ she called out.
‘Yep! I am getting the sample bottle’ answered the doctor from don’t-know-where.
‘Patient datang bulan lah!’

And instead of giving the patient sample bottles, the nurse gave sanitary napkins instead.

Aiyoh… drama one kind!

Story III
It was late. I couldn’t sleep. An elderly patient from Bed 22 was calling the nurse, ‘Misi! Misi!’ but nobody responded. She called and called and called. Monotonous, continuous.
‘Misi! Misi!’
‘Misi! Misi!’
'Misi! Misi!'

I couldn’t tahan. So I went to her.
‘Ah Soh mau apa?’
‘Saya mau tidur’ she answered.
‘oh okay, tidurlah’
And Ah Soh went to sleep.

Aiyoh. Makes sense isn’t it? I declare myself Florence Nightingle.

Story III
The night was interrupted with a loud wail.
‘Ayoooooo, mati lah katak!’ Hah? Can you repeat that please? ‘Mati katak’ or ‘mati kakak’?

Another elderly patient was making all the ruckus. This time Bed 20.
‘Tolong! Janganlah ikat tangan saya! Bukak! Bukak!’

A nurse went to her side and shook the lady gently. ‘Cuba tengok tangan? Tak ada ikat pon?’

‘Oh ya.’ And went back to sleep.

Hehehe.. wonder what her dream was. Handcuffed? Oooooo… Wonder who the captor was. Hehehe.. naughty auntie!

Story IV
Not much of a story here. Except an interesting character came in. Beautiful face and perfect body. Hair dyed and face made up nicely. Her name was something like that of a porn star, heeere's ....Literatus Gemma! Nice ya? All her visitors were either police or blacks. Curious me. Maybe they ARE shooting a porn movie? You know, things DO happen in hospitals.

Story V
I helped wheel Mak to MRI room. Parked her near the reception table and sat down. A makchik from Perak was there waiting too. Her husband, a penghulu in one Perak's district was waiting to be MRI-ed just like my Mak. I looked at the uncle and my heart stopped, i swear. He looked almost exactly like my late father.

Aiyoh, can you beleive it? I cried. Haha..

And i told the makchik why because i must, she was alarmed.

'Oh, makchik pon baru nak bertanya. Muka awak ni saling tak tumpah dengan muka anak sedara pakchik. Anak abang sulung dia. Nanti makchik cakap dengan pakchik ya?'

I actually avoided the pakchik after that. I didnt want him to feel awkward. And i didnt want to cry again.

Oh well.

New Office

I have started working at the new place. It is only RM3 cab fare away from the hospital, RM2.60 Putra LRT from home, 1 Putra-LRT-minute away from KLCC, and ribu-ribu-juta-juta light years away from the old office. I have crossed over the frontier; from the land of cannibalism, madness and chaos into decent civilization. Good morning ma’am! How-are-you-fine-thank-you is the theme of the day!

I suddenly have health benefits. On the first day, I was given a long list of panel clinics and hospitals. Not only am I covered for all my sneezes, my kids are too. And I can have lots more babies because they pay for maternity bills, can breed like rats! Yeah babe! Oh and I can breastfeed each one of them and don’t bother about my calcium intake because dental is covered too. This is definitely the place where I wont mind turning gummy.

And I finally belong. I already am a member of the company’s recreational club. My salary will be deducted RM5 monthly. Never mind that, but I will now be invited to games and picnics and trips and family days and the likes! Wooohoo! The party animal in me (haw haw haw) is howling with glee!

I have settled in rather comfortably, me thinks. I have given myself a welcome gift ~ tadaaa… a potted plant (cactus is bad feng shui, so mine is leafy). And I know I need a new pair of telekung, slippers and face wash. These things I left at the old office. No problem, Ampang Park is less than a pelaung away, I clear my throat also I am there already. I can get all the supplies during lunch hour today.

I know this is THE place, the chosen one because I have already gone to the loo to do the big-water business. That is THE sign. Let me share with you my wisdom. You only do your big-water thing when you are comfortable with the place, unless your hajat is very urgent or of Hershey-squirt type. But otherwise, you only do it at ‘selected’ places. Correct? And no one can bluff me, the best place to do it, the one place that you can really be yourself while at it, is at home. I will be delighted if house-guests honor me by using our toilet. The bigger their water business, the better! You get what I am saying?

I was always constipated at the previous office. But here, the toilet beckons me with subtle promises of peace and comfort. Fresh toilet rolls, dry floor, squeaky clean seats, the right shade of lights, and the perfect-pressured water … The more often I go, the more I know that I have finally found a place that I belong.

So here I am, sitting at my place this early in the morning writing this and smiling (as I have just done my big time water business). Only my 5th day here and I am already swamped with work. I longed to go lepak at my favorite coffee shop and write a bit at all my favourite blog stations but I really cant find the time yet. Let me clear off some files from my table first and then I will have a bit of a breather.

In the meantime,… oh, wait, must go the loo!

Thank You

I wonder who invented ‘thank you’. I would like to go up to her (my gut feeling says she is a woman) and say ‘thank you’ for enabling me to sum all that i feel towards you in a word as simple as benign as ‘thank you’.

Thank you for all the words of encouragement. Through here, smses, phone calls and emails, or even discreet doas. I am comforted in the knowledge that I have you rallying behind me, always ready to prop me up again should I slump, ever ready to crutch me should I falter, ever willing to help.

Thank you for genuinely being a friend.

My Emak is now in GHKL. That day I went back home? I found out that the toe wasn’t blue, it was black. Even to my untrained eyes, I could see that it was gangrene. No wonder she was in so much pain! Took her to a specialist hospital and they said they didn’t have a vascular surgeon. We were to find this surgeon ourself! Where, I asked? Maybe in Malacca hospital, maybe in HKL or HUKM, the doctor wasn’t so sure. But one thing he could tell me confidently was that there was no such surgeon in Johore. Whoa!

So we bundled her up, put her in the car and drove down to KL. By the time we reach Sungei Besi toll, Emak had started to lose grip. Her eyes rolled and ~ i have difficulty describing this ~ like popped out from the socket, she had breathing difficulty and she was delirious. She croaked out her children’s names and asked for them and she mentioned words scary taboo like‘mati’. The traffic wasn’t very kind, typical of KL but Yamtuan was really flooring it. I held her hands and told her to be patient and i practically left the kids to helter skelter in the car. The amazing thing was, even though my heart was beating furiously and my ears felt so hot with all the rush of blood, and deep-down I was reduced to a scaredy little girl; I managed to maintain my cool. I felt somewhat detached from it all. And anguished me could see a different me taking over the situation, cool and calm.

We reached Emergency & Admission, they wheeled her into semi-critical section and I went with her. And then things happened like in the tv. Needles and tubes and lotsa people in white drapes behind blue curtains and my heart was doing the F1 and etc etc..

Soon her condition stabilized. She was hypoglycemia (2.3) and hypertension (230/150).

That was Tuesday 27th Sept. Almost two weeks ago.

She is still at Ward 12 of GHKL. Her blood sugar yoyo-es between 0.5 to 14. Her BP is almost always on the high side. One toe remains black, two are turning more blue-black-er by the day. Today they will do angio. We should know when the surgery will take place after today.

Caring for Emak is not easy. It is heart-wrenching and very very trying. Like I told Nazrah and Imp, it is not the toilet business that is difficult. Not at all. We were all born from between our mom’s toilets anyway, front and back. So cleaning her is not a problem at all.

But having to be brave and strong is tough.
Seeing her in pain, is tough.
Seeing her face when doctors refuse to give more morphines and painkillers, is tough.
Hearing her plead to me to let her keep the toes, is tough.
Forcing her to eat and drink, is tough.
Stifling my tears, is tough.

But I am okay. Yamtuan is a balm to my battered soul. He takes care of the kids (they are both demam pulak tu) and he does his sahur and berbuka by himself. He doesn’t complaint a tiny bit. These all so I can have only one worry, just Mak. He and the kids don’t become part of the problem. We are both tired and sleep-deprived but he understands the sacrifices that we all have to make and so he remains to be supportive. And I thank God for him.

And I have the doas, hugs and kisses from all you wonderful people. And I am also armed with air zamzam from Nefertiti. And I know now what surahs to read to her and what doas to recite to calm her nerves. And I know God knows what is in my heart. And i know too that He knows what is best. So I am not worried and I am not so afraid anymore.

I am okayee ok.

Thank you friends.