My mother loves my son

My mother loves Daniel. I could not have managed without all the support from my mother and my siblings. They were my pillar of strength, always there for me.

When it became difficult for me to visit them with my son as he got bigger, I asked my sister if she would consider selling their Tampines flat to move nearer to where I was so that I could walk over with my son.

My sister sold the flat she jointly owned with my mother and they moved to Pasir Ris.

Such was the love and support I got from my family.

Due to the COVID-19 situation, my mother and siblings could not visit my son in hospital though they wanted to.

When my son got worse, my mother wanted to see him. It was early in the morning of 19 June 2020. So my sister asked for a video call. At that time my son was so sick, he had no energy to response to anything. But when we held the phone before him and my mother called him by name, I saw the immediate response in his eyes and he moved his lower jaw.

I was really heartbroken, really heartbroken. He was not able to express himself. He had been shut in a world not by his own choice. From the time he was born, he had been shut in his world not by his own choice. And forever, carried with him all the things that he would have wanted to say but could not.

I was full of faith in the beginning and always hopeful for miracles. We worked so hard, exercised so much but as the years went by, our lot was one of giving up, of yielding bit by bit.

Discouragement replaced faith and hope. It was difficult to bear. The suffering of my son never left me. It was a torment to think of how he had suffered.

His greatest strength became the source of his greatest suffering. This strength of enduring without complaint meant that many times he suffered alone.

Half an hour after my mother spoke to him on video call, suddenly the nurse fussed around him changing the nasal tube to oxygen masks. I look at the monitor and saw his oxygen level falling from 100% to 80+. I checked the clip on his finger. I thought perhaps the clip was not properly in place and not measuring the oxygen level correctly. But his blood pressure fell. Everything happened so quickly. In a matter of seconds, the oxygen level dropped to zero. And the colour left my son. He was completely pale, colourless, and his eyes remained open.

I cried. It was cruel.

A thunderstorm and a black bin bag

It started off as a lovely, cool morning. I thought it was a good day to bring my son over to my mother's place. No need to walk in the hot sun.

So I pushed my son there in his wheelchair. All good for some time. We reached my mother's place in good time after some 15 to 20 minutes or so. Not long after, the sky threatened to rain.

I decided to get home fast with my son before it rained. My knees at that time were injured due to overuse (another story), but in the hurry, the pain was forgotten.

I walked fast as I pushed my son in his wheelchair, hoping to beat the rain before it came.

But the rain came fast and heavy. We were halfway home when it started to pour. We were caught in a thunderstorm. The thunder was loud.

We took shelter at a small rental bicycle shed at Pasir Ris Town Park. There were other people taking shelter there too. With strong wind and heavy rain, we would get drenched in no time.

The loud, crackling thunder frightened my son. He was cold and shivering. The umbrella was of little use. We did not have a raincoat. I wanted something to keep him warm as his hands and legs were icy cold because of wind and rain. I was afraid he would fall sick from being caught in the rain.

I turned to the rental bicycle operator and asked if he had a big piece of plastic. I asked for the big, black plastic bag used to line rubbish bin.

He was kind enough to spare me one. I made a hole in the bag and slipped it over my son. The plastic would act like a windbreaker and would at least keep his body warm.

In a desperate time, one can't really care that the plastic bag was meant for the rubbish bin. It served its purpose. At least it would keep my son's body warm.

We waited. The minutes went by. The rain showed no sign of abating and lightning and thunder continued to flash and crack.

The park was flooded ankle deep. I was caught between waiting and wanting to get my son home as fast as I could so that I could quickly bath and give him a change of clothes and warm him up.

I decided we would not wait for the rain to stop as it looked like it wouldn't stop anytime soon.

So I bent down with the open umbrella propped on my shoulder while I pushed my son on the wheelchair through the water in the park to make our way home.

It was not easy as my son kept slipping down in the seat and every so often, I had to stop in the rain to pull him up. So I had a number of things to do: keep the open umbrella propped on my shoulder to give us a some shelter, push the wheelchair, make sure my son did not slip off the chair (the seat belt was of little help), keep him balanced on the chair.

It seemed like ages and we finally reached the road at Drive 1. We crossed the road and up onto the pavement. And guess what?

The rain stopped. It stopped just as we reached home. To be honest, I don't know whether to be thankful or not.

I was just glad that we reached home. I gave my son a quick shower to wash away the rainwater, and then warm him up with some towels.

Thankfully, he did not fall sick after this incident.

When all was over, I realised my knees which had been very painful due to fluid retention caused by injury, did not feel any pain during that challenging time, that I was able to stoop and walk hurriedly with bent knees without experiencing the pain. Perhaps that was the other thing I could be thankful for.

This happened more than 10 years ago. It was also my son's first experience in the rain. Janet was our helper at that time.