So Ihsan is now 17 months old. If I were to stop breastfeeding at 24 months, I am left with only 7 months in this breastfeeding journey. Oh nooooooo! This will be my last ever breastfeeding journey! Boo hoo hoo! I shall enjoy it and not complain about the lack of sleep or how frequently he wakes up at night. (If I ever tell you that he sleeps through the night, I define night as between 2am and 5am.)
17 months and a couple of days. What can Ihsan do?
He can climb. A lot. I don't remember the girls climbing our dining and computer tables. I don't remember having to push all chairs against the wall to prevent the girls from climbing the tables. This boy requires constant supervision.
Consequently, the simple meals that I cook have become even simpler. I really cannot afford to be in front of the stove and watch over the onions that I have to tumis sampai naik bau. So, baked stuff are convenient. And I start cooking really early. Vegetables are actually the most cumbersome dishes because the prep work takes some time. So, I start preparing the vegetables immediately after I'm done with his breakfast. On a normal day, by 9am, the vegetables for lunch and dinner will be ready. (If you want to tell me about nutrient lost because of the early preparation and et cetera, it's okay. At worst, we get the fibre from the vege.)
The Boy. He still hates eating and I don't know how to get him to swallow the food. I normally manage to make him eat the first 3 (tiny) spoonfuls of his lunch/dinner. But trouble often starts from the 4th spoonful. He will start spitting out the food the moment the food enters his mouth. It is infuriating! To avoid wastage, I scoop back whatever he spits out and shove it back in his mouth. We have to do a few rounds of this before the food disappears (most of the time it's because there's too much stuck to his clothes to be scooped up).
He is underweight. Way below the 3rd percentile. 8kg for a 17 month old baby. Sigh. On one hand, I am not *that* worried (unlike during the era of my firstborn) but on the other hand, I am somewhat concerned that he may not have enough nutrition. I have tried out so many recipes. Last year, my 12yo nephew whom I tutored often helped to finish his porridge especially if it's cod porridge. Sigh.
Developmentally, there is nothing alarming. Other than his less-than-steady walk, everything seems to be on track. Alhamdulillah for that. He is getting very cheeky these days and can follow commands. Ask him to make muka kiyut and he will cup his cheeks with his hands. He can point to his body parts except dagu and dahi. He can call out to his immediate family members and his favourite cousin. One day, the favourite cousin was at the door. He ran to the door and called out, "Ämiya! Amiya! Amiya!" Cousin's name is Nabilah.
He only salam people when he wants to. And when he wants to, he will salam you repeatedly. Likewise for kisses. He hates to see me sleeping. Everyone else can sleep but if I dare close my eyes when he's wide awake, he will immediately resuscitate me with a few smacks on my eyes. He likes to pretend to read. This is an influence of his sisters. He opens up a book and pretends to read by pointing at the words. He likes being read Llama Llama Red Pajama and any books that feature Elmo, pronounced Eh Mmmm. He also likes to tear pages off books. (let's pause for a minute and mourn the books that were sent to The Book Hospital)
He likes playing ball games - catching and kicking. He perspires a lot and needs the fan all the time. Thank God we don't have airconditioning at home; otherwise, our utilities bill would be astronomical. He has developed a penchant for magnets, stuffing them into his mouth whenever he managed to pry one off the fridge. (yes, they are placed higher but with this boy, short of putting the magnets on the ceiling, there's no place high enough) Sadly, he has outgrown his thing for durians. Was hoping to fatten him up on a regular dose of durians once they are in season.
Okie dokie. I must stop now. The Boy is sleeping and I have to do a couple of things online before he wakes up. I have about 30 minutes or so left before his nap time is over. Til next time, goodbye!
Thursday, January 21, 2016
Wednesday, January 06, 2016
6 January 2016
1. Farah started primary school life just two days ago. So far, no issues and we hope that it remains that way!
2. I am glad that we did not go into a buying frenzy prior to her starting school. We have a lot of things lying around the house. So she used things that we already have instead of buying brand new stuff. Other than her socks and schoolbooks, everything else has been used by others before her. I hope the kids will always be as practical as this.
3. This reminded me of an exchange I had with Huda sometime last year. There was a sale of stuff by a Science vendor in her school. I am Mother Scrooge and I am always fearful of accidentally raising spendthrifts so I discouraged her from buying anything from there because it is either not practical or Amazon sells it cheaper. She eventually settled on something that costs 50 cents and she bought two of them. On the way home, she talked about what she bought and demonstrated it. She wasn't too happy with how simplistic the toy was and commented, Ï wasted my 50 cents on this."
Music to my ears. She could come up with the conclusion that it was a waste of money.
4. Let's go back to Farah and her first day of school stories. I didn't accompany Huda to school on her very first day because I also had my own first day of school. So, this was my first experience in being one of those anxious parents. Only thing is, I wasn't anxious. Farah could hold her own. Stories that Huda had shared prepared her for school. I was a little bit worried that she would eat too slowly during recess but she managed to finish her food in about 10 minutes. At home, she often takes so long because she is the chattiest and has so many stories to tell.
5. Farah was assigned a P4 buddy. During the P1 Orientation in November, Huda was shocked to find out that P1 buddies would come from P4 instead of P2. She prayed hard to be assigned anyone except her own sister. Both of them were pretty sure they would be hauled to the office if they were buddies. They painted a lot of scenarios of possible fights that could take place. Thankfully, they were not partnered together.
6. This afternoon, when I fetched them from school, Farah excitedly shared the news that she was appointed group leader for the month of January. Hooray for her!
7. Ihsan is now 17 months old! He is feeling very lonely when his sisters are in school. He becomes extremely clingy and does not allow me to leave him for even a moment. Just this morning, while I was answering nature's call in the toilet, he banged at the door and wailed at the top of his lungs. He banged te door so hard that part of the lock flew out. Thankfully, it could be fixed.
8. He is at a rather mischievous state now. All he wants to do are things he should not do. Like, climb the computer table and fling things about. The house now looks like we are preparing for a kenduri. All the chairs which used to surround the dining table are pushed against the wall, far , far away from the table.
9. While he is walking, he is not too steady on his feet. He still looks like a drunkard when he walks - swaying this way and that and eventually stumbling.
10. Eating is a nightmare. A complete, absolute nightmare. But that will be contined later because he's awake now.
Sunday, November 08, 2015
7 November 2015
The girls and Ihsan are playing at a neighbour's house. 2 doors away. Everything seems well and good now so it seems like I may have some time on my hands. Yipppeeeee!
Time for some quick updates.
1. Pictures? I have done the first step of transferring all my pictures from my phone to our storage system. The next step will be to select pictures to upload here. And finally, the actual uploading of pictures. To give you a better idea as to when this will happen: I started uploading pictures to our storage thing sometime in September. Heh.
2. Ihsan has started to gain weight. Alhamdulillah. But, his weight gain is still so slow. So slow that he is now below the 3rd percentile, ie, off the charts. At about 6 months old, he was 6.6kg. Then KD happened. At the end of the KD episode, he was 6.4kg. Then, his weight stagnated there for a long time. At about 11 months old, he was only 6.7kg. Although he is now 7.7kg at 14 months, that is much too light. To be at the 10th percentile, he has to be 8.75kg. Oh God.
The dietician gave some good advice but this boy has a preference for food that is much too healthy and more suited for his father. Hur hur. Like oats. How to get fat when he has oats for breakfast. And to entice him to eat his lunch (rice porridge with vegetable and either fish or chicken), occasionally, I lace every spoonful of porridge with oats.
3. Ihsan has recently picked up a new skill. He has made the realisation that furniture can be manipulated to get what he wants. This is a skill which I have not been looking forward to very much. He moves stools all the way to the kitchen sink so he can play with the sponges. Or to the kitchen cabinets to fiddle with all the buttons on the rice cooker. I must always remember to lock the kitchen window grilles and pull the key out. Too many scary stories of little boys who fall out of kitchen windows.
Oh dear. I hear the sounds of little feet. They are back. To be continued another day. Or another week. Or another month. Not another year, hopefully.
Time for some quick updates.
1. Pictures? I have done the first step of transferring all my pictures from my phone to our storage system. The next step will be to select pictures to upload here. And finally, the actual uploading of pictures. To give you a better idea as to when this will happen: I started uploading pictures to our storage thing sometime in September. Heh.
2. Ihsan has started to gain weight. Alhamdulillah. But, his weight gain is still so slow. So slow that he is now below the 3rd percentile, ie, off the charts. At about 6 months old, he was 6.6kg. Then KD happened. At the end of the KD episode, he was 6.4kg. Then, his weight stagnated there for a long time. At about 11 months old, he was only 6.7kg. Although he is now 7.7kg at 14 months, that is much too light. To be at the 10th percentile, he has to be 8.75kg. Oh God.
The dietician gave some good advice but this boy has a preference for food that is much too healthy and more suited for his father. Hur hur. Like oats. How to get fat when he has oats for breakfast. And to entice him to eat his lunch (rice porridge with vegetable and either fish or chicken), occasionally, I lace every spoonful of porridge with oats.
3. Ihsan has recently picked up a new skill. He has made the realisation that furniture can be manipulated to get what he wants. This is a skill which I have not been looking forward to very much. He moves stools all the way to the kitchen sink so he can play with the sponges. Or to the kitchen cabinets to fiddle with all the buttons on the rice cooker. I must always remember to lock the kitchen window grilles and pull the key out. Too many scary stories of little boys who fall out of kitchen windows.
Oh dear. I hear the sounds of little feet. They are back. To be continued another day. Or another week. Or another month. Not another year, hopefully.
Thursday, August 27, 2015
Blessed Life
It is so easy to take so many things for granted and so at times, in the midst of doing something, I have to pause and count my blessings. When I was hanging the clothes one day, I thought of how my arms were in perfect condition, good for lifting those poles. Not too long ago after the Implanon insertion, I could barely raise my arms. And how good it is to be able to bathe with no restriction; hands that could reach the back of the neck and no wounds that must be kept dry.
Ihsan had another heart scan last week. It was only 6 months ago when he was struck with KD but it really felt like a lifetime ago.
Alhamdulillah. Whatever issues he had with his heart are all gone. The dilated arteries & the aneurysm - all gone. Masya Allah. God is good. And with that, no more daily aspirin.
We are so very blessed. Thank you Allah. May all of us be granted good health and a steady iman always.
Ihsan had another heart scan last week. It was only 6 months ago when he was struck with KD but it really felt like a lifetime ago.
Alhamdulillah. Whatever issues he had with his heart are all gone. The dilated arteries & the aneurysm - all gone. Masya Allah. God is good. And with that, no more daily aspirin.
We are so very blessed. Thank you Allah. May all of us be granted good health and a steady iman always.
Thursday, August 13, 2015
Ants $&#£{+!
Lovely weather, these days. A downpour, slight drizzle, just enough sun to dry the clothes, more drizzle, cool weather.
And then the ants decide that this weather makes outdoor living unsavoury. So with the pleasant weather, come the refugee ants. Truckloads of them from every tribe imaginable.
They are everywhere, roaming around looking for any crevices to build their homes in. I've given them enough warning to leave but they refused to budge. Occasionally, I'll invite some to a meal of terro-pco but their subsequent absence is only temporary. More will come to take over the place of the deceased.
Gaaaaaaaah!
And then the ants decide that this weather makes outdoor living unsavoury. So with the pleasant weather, come the refugee ants. Truckloads of them from every tribe imaginable.
They are everywhere, roaming around looking for any crevices to build their homes in. I've given them enough warning to leave but they refused to budge. Occasionally, I'll invite some to a meal of terro-pco but their subsequent absence is only temporary. More will come to take over the place of the deceased.
Gaaaaaaaah!
Monday, July 27, 2015
The Little Seed That Could Grow Only in Winter
Farah is 6 years old, in K2. This is what she wrote yesterday. This is done as a project with her 7-year-old cousin, Sofiyah. They decided that each of them would write a few stories based on a little seed. Their ultimate aim is to present these stories to their other cousins as part of their Sunday Nonsense.
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
The Middle Child
Have not written about Farah for quite some time so here are some things about her which are interesting.
1. Even though she doesn't have to be in school until 9am, she gets upset when we do not wake her up together with Huda at 6am. When she gets upset, her glare is enough to melt an iceberg.
2. She is extremely generous with her food. Whenever we eat fried chicken or fried fish, she will share the crispy skin with everyone although that is her favourite part.
3. She loves reading and she reads well for her age.
4. She doesn't understand some of the words that she reads. She used to just infer the meaning of the words (not accurately sometimes resulting in her saying things like "my tongue feels so disappointed" ~said in mid 2014) but these days she would ask us to explain the meaning of the words.
5. Sometimes, she'll ask us the meaning of the words in very random situations. A few days ago, she asked what 'possessed' meant. I thought it was something to do with spirits but I sought clarification from her anyway.
"Where did you see the word?" I asked.
"Once upon a time, in a land far away, a single drop of sunlight fell to the ground and grew into a magical golden flower that possessed healing powers."
(Yes. She quoted verbatim from a storybook she read a few days earlier.)
This happens very regularly. Sometimes she's about to sleep and she would ask the meaning of a word and would quote the sentence it appears in. I'm impressed with her memory.
6. A little voice within me and a few voices around me told me that I should send her to a madrasah. She would definitely be able to cope with the syllabus, they said. But, I am not sure if *I* can cope with it.
7. She is very loving to her little brother but less so to the older sister. Often, before she goes to school, she tells me, "Mak, can you tell Ihsan that Kakak Farah loves him very much?"
After months and months of this, I asked her why couldn't she just tell him herself.
She said, "I don't want him to forget me when I'm in school."
8. Her treatment of Ihsan when they play together reminds me of Elmyra from Animaniacs. At times, I have to stop her from being too rough with the little boy.
9. I love how much faith she has in Allah. She believes in the power of du'a and many times, her du'a is answered. Her du'a for now is for everyday stuff. Food, ability to do things (like, unscrew a jar etc). Once she made du'a for nenek to cook her favourite pucuk manis masak lemak (otherwise known as 'the green vegetable with the yellow gravy'. I forgot about it and that day, when we went to my mother's house, my mother happened to cook exactly that. Another day, we had leftover beef soup for sahur and there weren't many pieces of potatoes left. She wanted more and to pacify her, I told her to make du'a for potatoes. That evening, my mother gave us a potato dish for buka. Masya Allah. The power of du'a.
----
My du'a for Farah, Huda and Ihsan is for them to always have complete and unwavering faith in Allah. I du'a that they will always be hardworking and will always strive hard for their goals. Being 'clever' when you are young is meaningless if it's not accompanied by a desire and the will to better yourself throughout your life.
Sunday, June 21, 2015
A Short Summary
Here are some updates of our lives. Some might turn into longer blog posts. Some will remain here as one-liners.
1. Alhamdulillah. Ihsan's aneurysm has been reduced to a dilated artery while his dilated artery has turned normal. I cannot thank Allah enough for His Mercy.
2. We went to Coventry, London, Paris, Switzerland and back to London. Coventry, London and Switzerland are awesome.
3. Came back 2 days before Ramadan and Ihsan is letting me stay wide awake between 11pm to 2am. Baby jet lag is horrible.
4. Huda has gastric. An extension of her severe motion sickness that she gets during any travels. Includes car rides.
5. I must upload many many pictures of Ihsan here.
1. Alhamdulillah. Ihsan's aneurysm has been reduced to a dilated artery while his dilated artery has turned normal. I cannot thank Allah enough for His Mercy.
2. We went to Coventry, London, Paris, Switzerland and back to London. Coventry, London and Switzerland are awesome.
3. Came back 2 days before Ramadan and Ihsan is letting me stay wide awake between 11pm to 2am. Baby jet lag is horrible.
4. Huda has gastric. An extension of her severe motion sickness that she gets during any travels. Includes car rides.
5. I must upload many many pictures of Ihsan here.
Monday, April 06, 2015
April 2015 (Part #3)
What is the one lesson that I've learnt?
Get that insurance early. When it's too late, it's too late.
TheBoy was born with one of the ducts in his heart not closing in a timely fashion. In layman's terms, that's a hole in the heart. In December last year, he had a heart scan which showed that everything was a-okay. We should have seen our insurance agent at that moment but we procrastinated. As always.
In January, he was supposed to have his vaccination. Don't ask me which one. As a bimbo mother, I bring him to all his vaccinations diligently but for the life of me, I can't recall if it's this or that or another one of those things. He had a cough then so I was advised to postpone it to the following month. In February, he was supposed to have another jab so both jabs were given on the same day, 13th February.
That night, he developed a high fever of 38.4°C.
Nope. I did not think that was abnormal. He had a jab. He's never had a reaction to any of his jabs before. But hey, he had 2 jabs today. So, a fever is normal. (Note: Low-grade fever is expected after a vaccination. Not anything above 38°C.)
The fever somewhat subsided over the next 3 days. He still felt warm but when I took his temperature, it was always 37-point-something.
Tuesday morning. 17th Feb. Hmmm... Shouldn't this post-vaccination fever go away already? Googled. Googled. Googled. What? Post-vac fever should not last more than a day? Should be sub-38°C? Oh God. Let's take his temperature. What? 38-point-something?! Oh no! To the polyclinic we go! Pronto!
TheBoy didn't show any other signs of illnesses other than a fever. He was sponged by the nurses. His temperature dropped a little bit and after a thorough check by the doctor, we were sent home with instructions to have a blood test if the fever persists.
It was the CNY week. His fever was raging. It came down with Panadol, but after 4 hours, the fever shoots up to above 39°C. It not only persisted, this nasty fever, it also went up and up. For a child who had not even started on his weaning diet, his first foods were a cocktail of chemicals.
Thursday. First day of CNY. He had been inconsolable for many days. He barely slept. His stubborn fever was evil. We decided to take him to KKH for a blood test. Blood and urine tests turned out normal. Just a nasty viral fever, said the doctor. Go home.
Friday. Rashes started appearing on his hands and feet. Not HFMD. Not chicken pox. Googled googled googled. Maybe it's roseola. But roseola appears when the fever has subsided. This fever was still going on strong. But maybe, it's roseola and maybe, the fever is subsiding, we comfort our worried hearts.
Satuday evening, rashes which seemed to look better in the afternoon worsened at night. His lips were cracked and bleeding. He has cried himself hoarse and he's barely drinking any milk.
Sunday morning. He was too tired. He had been crying throughout this ordeal. We were exhausted. We could not comfort him much. It was time for another trip to KKH.
"It might be Kawasaki Disease," the doctor said.
Disease, why disease? The word 'disease' sounded like a long-term problem. My heart constricted a little bit and the doctor explained.
"Flat rashes, red lips, red tongue - looks like symptoms of Kawasaki Disease. But for patients with KD, there is a possibility that they might get heart disease as a result of this episode."
Heart disease.
I lost control of the floodgates. The tears gushed. The knowledgeable doctor said that as long as treatment is given within 10 days, most KD patients would not have any heart problems. I started counting. Counting his vaccination day as Day 1, that day was Day 10. But later on, another doctor said that they started counting from Tuesday as the 3 days when his fever was sub-38°C was not considered .
He was hospitalised and initially for my own comfort, we opted for a private ward class. The next day, a doctor spoke to me and asked if he was insured. No, I said. She strongly advised me to downgrade. At that moment, they could not start the treatment for him as there was no single test to confirm that TheBoy had KD. What they had to do was to confirm that he was not having anything else and all signs must point to KD. It would take time. "If it's not KD, what else could it be?" I asked. She listed a list of conditions which I didn't want to hear of either. Brain infection, sepsis of the blood. My mind - which was beyond exhaustion as a result of handling a sick, crying baby who cried through the night, giving me a total of 2 hours of sleep each day for more than a week - went blank after that. Downgrading is always a tricky issue at hospitals but I had to try. I went to the business office, pleaded my case and was given a downgrade to B2. Alhamdulillah.
But, Allah is kind and most merciful. B2 does not have a bed for us so we could stay in the comfort of the private ward class for another day and night.
I had witnessed so many days of inconsolable crying that on the first night at KKH, I started crying along with him. As I tried and failed to comfort him despite my best efforts, crying along was cathartic somehow. Had I been in B2 (6 patients in a ward, beds close together), I would have made many, many enemies as both son and mom wailed through the night.
Late Monday morning, the doctors confirmed that it was KD.
The treatment, Immunoglobulin harvested from many many many plasma donors, would be given intravenously. The doctor assured me that once the Intravenous Immunoglobulin (IVIG) has been administered, the fever would crash and he would be a lot less cranky.
Finally, at 12 noon, the treatment was started. By 2pm, his fever finally went down on its own. For the first time in what felt like forever, he slept for 2 whole hours, uninterrupted.
---
But the worst was not over.
We had to scan his heart. The appointment to do so was for a week after discharge. For some reasons, I always think I'm strong and can do these things alone. So, TheHusband didn't take time off from work because we are optimistic that results would be good. (Sometimes, I really don't know where I get this big bucket of optimism from. It could be insanity masked as optimism.)
TheBoy's name was called and in we went. A sweet technician with a lovely singing voice started scanning TheBoy's heart. She sang to the boy. I heard her murmuring to her partner, dilated. She continued singing to the boy. Could I have heard wrongly? Yeah, I'm sure I did.
The head of the paediatric heart department came in. Hmm. Why not just a regular doctor, like during his December scan? He scanned TheBoy again and I could hear the words I didn't want to hear.
His right coronary artery is dilated. And there is an aneurysm in his left coronary artery.
Allah. Allah. Allah. Give me strength, Allah.
He explained with diagrams what he meant. The good thing is, the aneurysm is small and it just requires regular monitoring. The worst thing that can possibly happen is a sudden heart attack. He has to learn how to manage stress and live a healthy lifestyle.
I nodded at appropriate pauses and tried to keep those tears out. I remember going to the counter to arrange for my next appointment. Then, I walked in a daze and only realised that I was at the taxi stand when I almost knocked into a display panel. I told the taxi driver where I wanted to go. And miraculously (because Allah is kind and merciful and so He sends me good friends and a great family), 3 of my friends asked me separately how Ihsan was when I was in the taxi. The tears that I had stoically kept within myself flowed. The enormity of the situation was too much to bear and on these friends, I unburdened my sorrow. (Thank you.)
---
A week passed. And I felt better. I saw the silver lining behind this dark cloud. So many people unknowingly live with their aneurysms. At least for us, we know he has one and we can get it monitored at regular intervals. We can take precautions and with Allah's mercy, Ihsan will live a long, healthy life. Amin.
Get that insurance early. When it's too late, it's too late.
TheBoy was born with one of the ducts in his heart not closing in a timely fashion. In layman's terms, that's a hole in the heart. In December last year, he had a heart scan which showed that everything was a-okay. We should have seen our insurance agent at that moment but we procrastinated. As always.
In January, he was supposed to have his vaccination. Don't ask me which one. As a bimbo mother, I bring him to all his vaccinations diligently but for the life of me, I can't recall if it's this or that or another one of those things. He had a cough then so I was advised to postpone it to the following month. In February, he was supposed to have another jab so both jabs were given on the same day, 13th February.
That night, he developed a high fever of 38.4°C.
Nope. I did not think that was abnormal. He had a jab. He's never had a reaction to any of his jabs before. But hey, he had 2 jabs today. So, a fever is normal. (Note: Low-grade fever is expected after a vaccination. Not anything above 38°C.)
The fever somewhat subsided over the next 3 days. He still felt warm but when I took his temperature, it was always 37-point-something.
Tuesday morning. 17th Feb. Hmmm... Shouldn't this post-vaccination fever go away already? Googled. Googled. Googled. What? Post-vac fever should not last more than a day? Should be sub-38°C? Oh God. Let's take his temperature. What? 38-point-something?! Oh no! To the polyclinic we go! Pronto!
TheBoy didn't show any other signs of illnesses other than a fever. He was sponged by the nurses. His temperature dropped a little bit and after a thorough check by the doctor, we were sent home with instructions to have a blood test if the fever persists.
It was the CNY week. His fever was raging. It came down with Panadol, but after 4 hours, the fever shoots up to above 39°C. It not only persisted, this nasty fever, it also went up and up. For a child who had not even started on his weaning diet, his first foods were a cocktail of chemicals.
Thursday. First day of CNY. He had been inconsolable for many days. He barely slept. His stubborn fever was evil. We decided to take him to KKH for a blood test. Blood and urine tests turned out normal. Just a nasty viral fever, said the doctor. Go home.
Friday. Rashes started appearing on his hands and feet. Not HFMD. Not chicken pox. Googled googled googled. Maybe it's roseola. But roseola appears when the fever has subsided. This fever was still going on strong. But maybe, it's roseola and maybe, the fever is subsiding, we comfort our worried hearts.
Satuday evening, rashes which seemed to look better in the afternoon worsened at night. His lips were cracked and bleeding. He has cried himself hoarse and he's barely drinking any milk.
Sunday morning. He was too tired. He had been crying throughout this ordeal. We were exhausted. We could not comfort him much. It was time for another trip to KKH.
"It might be Kawasaki Disease," the doctor said.
Disease, why disease? The word 'disease' sounded like a long-term problem. My heart constricted a little bit and the doctor explained.
"Flat rashes, red lips, red tongue - looks like symptoms of Kawasaki Disease. But for patients with KD, there is a possibility that they might get heart disease as a result of this episode."
Heart disease.
I lost control of the floodgates. The tears gushed. The knowledgeable doctor said that as long as treatment is given within 10 days, most KD patients would not have any heart problems. I started counting. Counting his vaccination day as Day 1, that day was Day 10. But later on, another doctor said that they started counting from Tuesday as the 3 days when his fever was sub-38°C was not considered .
He was hospitalised and initially for my own comfort, we opted for a private ward class. The next day, a doctor spoke to me and asked if he was insured. No, I said. She strongly advised me to downgrade. At that moment, they could not start the treatment for him as there was no single test to confirm that TheBoy had KD. What they had to do was to confirm that he was not having anything else and all signs must point to KD. It would take time. "If it's not KD, what else could it be?" I asked. She listed a list of conditions which I didn't want to hear of either. Brain infection, sepsis of the blood. My mind - which was beyond exhaustion as a result of handling a sick, crying baby who cried through the night, giving me a total of 2 hours of sleep each day for more than a week - went blank after that. Downgrading is always a tricky issue at hospitals but I had to try. I went to the business office, pleaded my case and was given a downgrade to B2. Alhamdulillah.
But, Allah is kind and most merciful. B2 does not have a bed for us so we could stay in the comfort of the private ward class for another day and night.
I had witnessed so many days of inconsolable crying that on the first night at KKH, I started crying along with him. As I tried and failed to comfort him despite my best efforts, crying along was cathartic somehow. Had I been in B2 (6 patients in a ward, beds close together), I would have made many, many enemies as both son and mom wailed through the night.
Late Monday morning, the doctors confirmed that it was KD.
The treatment, Immunoglobulin harvested from many many many plasma donors, would be given intravenously. The doctor assured me that once the Intravenous Immunoglobulin (IVIG) has been administered, the fever would crash and he would be a lot less cranky.
---
But the worst was not over.
We had to scan his heart. The appointment to do so was for a week after discharge. For some reasons, I always think I'm strong and can do these things alone. So, TheHusband didn't take time off from work because we are optimistic that results would be good. (Sometimes, I really don't know where I get this big bucket of optimism from. It could be insanity masked as optimism.)
TheBoy's name was called and in we went. A sweet technician with a lovely singing voice started scanning TheBoy's heart. She sang to the boy. I heard her murmuring to her partner, dilated. She continued singing to the boy. Could I have heard wrongly? Yeah, I'm sure I did.
The head of the paediatric heart department came in. Hmm. Why not just a regular doctor, like during his December scan? He scanned TheBoy again and I could hear the words I didn't want to hear.
His right coronary artery is dilated. And there is an aneurysm in his left coronary artery.
Allah. Allah. Allah. Give me strength, Allah.
He explained with diagrams what he meant. The good thing is, the aneurysm is small and it just requires regular monitoring. The worst thing that can possibly happen is a sudden heart attack. He has to learn how to manage stress and live a healthy lifestyle.
I nodded at appropriate pauses and tried to keep those tears out. I remember going to the counter to arrange for my next appointment. Then, I walked in a daze and only realised that I was at the taxi stand when I almost knocked into a display panel. I told the taxi driver where I wanted to go. And miraculously (because Allah is kind and merciful and so He sends me good friends and a great family), 3 of my friends asked me separately how Ihsan was when I was in the taxi. The tears that I had stoically kept within myself flowed. The enormity of the situation was too much to bear and on these friends, I unburdened my sorrow. (Thank you.)
---
A week passed. And I felt better. I saw the silver lining behind this dark cloud. So many people unknowingly live with their aneurysms. At least for us, we know he has one and we can get it monitored at regular intervals. We can take precautions and with Allah's mercy, Ihsan will live a long, healthy life. Amin.
Sunday, April 05, 2015
April 2015 (Part Me!)
So here I am.
First, the excuses.
Why haven't I been writing?
1. The children keep me busy.
2. I'm still playing Candy Crush.
3. My laptop has aged considerably and is now moving as fast as, errrr, me?
4. I was busy discovering apartments and mansions on airbnb.
5. My sister introduced me to reddit. (Where have I been all this while?)
6. I think I've run out of excuses.
Who shall I write about first? #1? #2? #3? Or shall I write about me? Yes, me it shall be. (Come on, stop groaning now.)
Haha!
Aiyah. Just a short one. (I hope.)
I have some extra kilograms on me now. Yesterday, I started my first exercise programme since I became pregnant. That's about 16 months of no exercise. I rode The Husband's steel stallion, ie, his exercise bike. According to the display, I burnt 150 calories. But I don't think that's enough to burn the tubs of Nutella Tarts that I have been consuming. Of course home bakers don't have that nutrition (or lack thereof) table on their bottles. But I bet the big tub of nutella tarts that I almost single-handedly ploughed in less than a week contained at least 10,000 calories. There's a 100 of those little devils inside each tub. Each of them has a whole lot of butter and sugar in the tarts and that nutella filling? Oh. My. God. Divine stuff. And I only burnt 150 calories. How can I ever see a thigh gap. I'm never going to see a thigh gap. Ever.
But after that, I watched 'My 600-lb Life' on Channel 425. That's almost 300kg. After the show, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. So relieved I was by the reflection that I did a little jig. I think this is how people grow obese. By watching shows about people who are morbidly obese and then comforting yourself, that you are not *that* bad. But the absence of a thigh gap tells me that I could be making my way there. The steel stallion shall not be ignored. Tomorrow, we will be acquainted again.
I've been on unpaid leave since January and I have not read any books! Unless you count children's books. And more children's books. I have to randomly read the books the kids bring home to make sure that the contents are not objectionable. This random reading brought me to an End Blyton book. I've always had a thing for The Naughtiest Girl series. But somehow, I never read the Malory Towers series. So, I read it. And I found it objectionable. Two sisters were getting ready for school and their mother appeared in the doorway. A magnificent description of the mother followed. The sisters were so pleased by the mother's appearance because it simply would not do for a mother to look anything less than a diva. Especially when all their friends would know that that woman was their mother. And worse, those girls pooh-poohed a schoolmate whose mother cried as she took the train to go to the boarding school. I stopped reading right there. I could not go on. I don't know if the girls changed their opinions at the end of the book but no, oh no.
As a card-carrying-member of the Frumpy Mothers Club who wears Fitflops with everything and abhors contact lenses and prefers her nerdish glasses and whose tudung is always penyek like a keropok lemau, my daughter cannot read about daughters who prefer their mothers to look like goddesses. *clears phlegm and spits* There, you snooty Malory Towers girls. Take my phlegm, spat out with as much disdain as I imagine you show me.
Sooooo. Anyway. I have not read any story books for my own personal enjoyment. Fiction. Newspapers, tafsir Quran, blogs, facebook walls, twitter feeds etc don't count.
Speaking of twitter feeds. My twitter was hijacked by some Russian bots and then it made me follow a whole lot of funny characters, including Erdogan, Turkey's PM. And a lot of sleazy characters too. Since I hardly use it, I finally decided to kill the twitter account. So now I'm left with FB (in which I'm still pretty active) and IG (only one photo uploaded and every few weeks, I will remember it and trawl a length of IG feeds and that's it).
Quite a long story about me. Hehe. Will stop here and my next post will be about #3.
First, the excuses.
Why haven't I been writing?
1. The children keep me busy.
2. I'm still playing Candy Crush.
3. My laptop has aged considerably and is now moving as fast as, errrr, me?
4. I was busy discovering apartments and mansions on airbnb.
5. My sister introduced me to reddit. (Where have I been all this while?)
6. I think I've run out of excuses.
Who shall I write about first? #1? #2? #3? Or shall I write about me? Yes, me it shall be. (Come on, stop groaning now.)
Haha!
Aiyah. Just a short one. (I hope.)
I have some extra kilograms on me now. Yesterday, I started my first exercise programme since I became pregnant. That's about 16 months of no exercise. I rode The Husband's steel stallion, ie, his exercise bike. According to the display, I burnt 150 calories. But I don't think that's enough to burn the tubs of Nutella Tarts that I have been consuming. Of course home bakers don't have that nutrition (or lack thereof) table on their bottles. But I bet the big tub of nutella tarts that I almost single-handedly ploughed in less than a week contained at least 10,000 calories. There's a 100 of those little devils inside each tub. Each of them has a whole lot of butter and sugar in the tarts and that nutella filling? Oh. My. God. Divine stuff. And I only burnt 150 calories. How can I ever see a thigh gap. I'm never going to see a thigh gap. Ever.
But after that, I watched 'My 600-lb Life' on Channel 425. That's almost 300kg. After the show, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. So relieved I was by the reflection that I did a little jig. I think this is how people grow obese. By watching shows about people who are morbidly obese and then comforting yourself, that you are not *that* bad. But the absence of a thigh gap tells me that I could be making my way there. The steel stallion shall not be ignored. Tomorrow, we will be acquainted again.
I've been on unpaid leave since January and I have not read any books! Unless you count children's books. And more children's books. I have to randomly read the books the kids bring home to make sure that the contents are not objectionable. This random reading brought me to an End Blyton book. I've always had a thing for The Naughtiest Girl series. But somehow, I never read the Malory Towers series. So, I read it. And I found it objectionable. Two sisters were getting ready for school and their mother appeared in the doorway. A magnificent description of the mother followed. The sisters were so pleased by the mother's appearance because it simply would not do for a mother to look anything less than a diva. Especially when all their friends would know that that woman was their mother. And worse, those girls pooh-poohed a schoolmate whose mother cried as she took the train to go to the boarding school. I stopped reading right there. I could not go on. I don't know if the girls changed their opinions at the end of the book but no, oh no.
As a card-carrying-member of the Frumpy Mothers Club who wears Fitflops with everything and abhors contact lenses and prefers her nerdish glasses and whose tudung is always penyek like a keropok lemau, my daughter cannot read about daughters who prefer their mothers to look like goddesses. *clears phlegm and spits* There, you snooty Malory Towers girls. Take my phlegm, spat out with as much disdain as I imagine you show me.
Sooooo. Anyway. I have not read any story books for my own personal enjoyment. Fiction. Newspapers, tafsir Quran, blogs, facebook walls, twitter feeds etc don't count.
Speaking of twitter feeds. My twitter was hijacked by some Russian bots and then it made me follow a whole lot of funny characters, including Erdogan, Turkey's PM. And a lot of sleazy characters too. Since I hardly use it, I finally decided to kill the twitter account. So now I'm left with FB (in which I'm still pretty active) and IG (only one photo uploaded and every few weeks, I will remember it and trawl a length of IG feeds and that's it).
Quite a long story about me. Hehe. Will stop here and my next post will be about #3.
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