4 days after the funeral

My grandmother was healthy all her life, until last week.

I remember sitting with her in the car on the way to the doctor. She looked like she had trouble breathing. All we did was turn up the aircon so it'd be less stuffy. Actually her lungs were being infected, and less than a week later their oxygen intake would drop to 60%, way below what was already fatal.

She had pain in her back. She thought it was from a fall. Her brothers advised her to go to the polyclinic to get a reference letter for an X-ray. Our private doctor made her twist and bend, and certified her fit. He prescribed her Begesic for muscle ache. Actually it was shingles burning her skin, and it was rashless.

She hadn't peed in days. Our doctor checked her medicine intake, and told her to stop taking antihistamines and Chinese medicine. It apparently worked. But actually her kidney was failing because of the shingles. In a few days, her neck would be bloated because no fluid could leave her body.

I remember our last meal together, after the doctor's visit. She had no appetite, and she kept pausing because her nose was running. I thought that I had never seen her nose run before. Suddenly she was frail. We gave her tissues. In a few days, the infection would flare up to be pneumonia.

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Unpredictable, life is. The grandmother who had never lay sick in bed spent her last days in an induced coma. Blame the doctor. Blame ourselves. There is no one to blame.

We spent the last week and a half in a heightened state of filial piety, clocking in hours by her side in the ICU. We watched her life support monitors with obsession. We cried and said things to her we'd never be able to if she hadn't been asleep. Now, with her ashes tucked away for good beside my grandfather's, it is our turn to have our sleep.

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We live life with an assurance that death will come with warnings. We monitor our loved ones and don't worry when they develop coughs, fevers, aches. Most of the time it works out well. They go on to recover, and we can go on the holidays we've already booked. But not always.

We may not be doctors. Even doctors may not be astute enough. But we have the responsibility to do what we can while we can. To accompany a sick person to the doctor two, three times. To mend all quarrels, and fulfill all pledges. To come home for dinner. To call home.