25 April 08

I am home. I wished I could say it’s home sweet home but I can’t. I see my dad deteriorating. He is less able to help himself these days and he needs more attention. My mum is not too well either but she is less attention seeking as my dad is. Mum is happy with her naps and the T.V series. Dad is always anxious and uncertain (perhaps I do acquire some of his triads). He is always insecure and always worries about things that don’t exist. As some of you already know, he suffers from dementia and his condition has led him to depression. The anxiety that he has leads to other minor health problems. It is challenging to feed him, what more to make sure that he drinks enough water. Dad’s condition is serious, he cannot be left alone unattended, he needs to depend on others.
When I decided that I wanted to come home and live with my parents, I was not prepared for this. I thought I could manage. I realized that things were not that simple when I lived with them for 1 month in January. This time around, I realized that it was almost impossible for me to care for them alone. I need help. Many people come to offer help, I know their intentions are good but sometimes I find it challenging to entertain them for I feel as if I’m expected to care for my parents according to what they think it’s best. Whether these kind people help or not, I still don’t think I can cope with my parents alone if I wish to have a career of my own.
I have spoken to my sisters and they agreed to employ a somebody to help in caring for my parents. We are searching but I don’t know how to get one. Private nurses are not cheap. The thought of employing a foreign worker is there but then again, why should we employ a foreign worker when many locals need a job? I am tempted to offer this job to the locals but then again, I do not know how to open my mouth and ask. Society has made a house assistant’s job to be so degrading that many would rather work as factory operators or sales girls even though the salary may be lesser with longer working hours.
And so, my worries continue but then again, I’m not depressed over it. Somehow, this morning, when I helped my dad, the usual frustrations just was not there, it took me sometime to realize that I was not so angry, in fact I was so into attending to him that I just forgot how inconvenient it was to be doing what I was doing. Perhaps God is doing His job in the most subtle manner. Nevertheless, I thank him for guiding me through all these.