When my husband checked out from the hospital, he was wheeled out. He was put in a wheelchair at the airport. We traveled first class, first to embark and disembark. It was also the beginning of a long recuperation.

My husband must be very stoical in his suffering. The surgeon had to saw open his ribs before he could reach his heart. Yet, there wasn’t a moan or a groan from him. Of course, he was in pain and in how much pain, he only knew.

When his mother was dying, she had this very bad case of foot ulcer. Gangrene set in and the big toe started to rot. She was advised to have her leg amputated. She would rather die than to be the one-legged survivor. My husband used to marvel at her stoicism in the face of such excruciating pain. Probably my husband had this notion that he would emulate his mother.

When bad things happen to people around you, it is normal for you to feel some empathy and sympathy but when it happens to your spouse or child it brings a sense of desperation, helplessness and despair. So when it happened to my husband I couldn’t help thinking it would be me one day. When my time comes, I’ll try to be cheerful about it. I know it is next to impossible especially when I truly believe that I have a low threshold of pains.

Imagine I’m dying and the disease is killing me, no matter how fast or slow it is still dying and if I have my own way, I’d rather have my family with me and nobody else. Until now I still have full admiration for my late friend who managed to appear cheerful when chemotherapy robbed her of her hair, her vitality, her weight, her looks as her eyes grew larger day by day and they sunk deeper and the fact remained that her days were numbered. Yet she was more cheerful than her well-wishers.

While my husband was recuperating I’d have had these morbid thoughts. Just cough from one of my kids, my initial reaction would start me thinking of the worst scenario. I had stopped taking things for granted.

During his convalescence, my husband’s immunity was pretty low and even a common cold would give him pain. Coughing and sneezing would make him feel strained around his chest area where his ribs were on the mend. In our Asian society, we are too polite to tell the well-wishers to stay away during the period of convalescence. It’s a cultural norm to visit the sick. So my husband had to receive visitors regardless his state of mind. In his good days he would enjoy some good company.

He had to adapt his taste buds to bland food. At this time I had to reduce salt, sugar and oil in the cooking. It had to be a feat to fry fish in 2 teaspoons of oil. When I shopped for my groceries I had to buy cholesterol-free stuff. I cooked more vegetable dishes.

Then I had this brainwave, I thought it would benefit the whole family to eat the same healthy stuff. My children were still young enough to change their mindset.