华盛顿 、树、乌龟

你的孩子有说谎吗?我相信这必定是很多父母都担忧的事。

好几个星期前，有一天恺文打电话到我办公室，对我说家里的乌龟有一只病死了。我想想早上出门前，三只乌龟还是好好的，怎么会有一只突然“暴毙”呢?心里顿然觉得事有跷蹊。

下班回到家，把恺文叫来，轻巧地盘问一番。一份父亲的第六感告诉我，他在掩饰。

“恺文，不可以讲骗话喔。”

他看看我，顿了一顿，说:“如果我说真话，你会生气骂我吗?”

“当然不会。我只会生气你说谎。”跟着再说了一遍“华盛顿砍樱桃树”的故事。(真讽刺，这个故事教导人要诚实，可是它本身却是一个谎话，一个杜撰的故事。)

他和盘拖出。原来他一时贪玩，把一只乌龟放进马桶里，怎么料到乌龟一时看不开，突然钻进洞内“自杀”，饮恨马桶，随水而去。

(我一面听一面忍住笑。这小孩有时真会做一些啼笑皆非的事儿。还记得他很小的时候，有一天竟然把一块大面包往自己的脸上贴，为的只是要比比到底是他的头大还是面包大！)

后来，我就去买了一只乌龟回来。(图中最小只的就是它。)

小孩说谎，往往是怕说实话后会被责骂或被打。如要处理这种情况，我觉得首要是要得到孩子的信任，其次是要注意孩子平时的行为和举止。这样，如果孩子有些不寻常的言行举动，也不能逃过你的法眼。而当你责问他时，他也更可能会如实相报。

当然，做长辈的，也得言行一致，为孩子做个好榜样。

Washington, the Cherry Tree, and the Terrapin

A couple of weeks ago Cowen called me at my office breaking the news that one of our terrapins had died from illness. I thought it sounded bizzare, as the three terrapins looked perfectly healthy in the morning before I left for work.

When I reached home and asked Cowen to explain the whole incident, he did so, but I wasn't convinced. Something inside me told me that he wasn't telling the truth, so I said: "Cowen, you should not lie."

He looked at me, and said, "If I tell you the truth, will you scold me?"

I related the favourite story of George Washington and the Cherry Tree to him, a story I told him before. "I won't scold you if you speak the truth. But if you tell lie, I will be angry."

(But what an irony. The "Washington and the Cherry Tree" episode, a tale told to celebtrate the virtue of honesty, is but an apocryphal story.)

So he told me the truth. He had put one of the terrapins into the toilet bowl to play, not expecting it to wander its way into the hole and disappear thereafter.

(I almost couldn't resist laughing as I listened to his story unfold. What a comical antic. It almost matches in hilarity one of his other antics, once when he slammed a bread onto his own face when he was a toddler, just to check whether the bread or his face was bigger.)

In the end, I went to get a replacement. (The smallest terrapin in the photo is it.)

Aaron
20 Dec 2009

Uneventful day is not a bad thing

It has been four months since the incident. Over the past four months, it seemed like most of my energy has been sapped, with hardly any left for other aspects of my life, such as work and guiding Cowen. During this period, I fell sick twice, both for quite a prolonged duration, hence draining even more energy off the already debilitated body. In the past, I could offer 100% of myself in class, immersing myself totally in my lecture, but in the semester that is just over, I must admit that I might have given only 70%.

Reading Lee Wei Ling's article "Uneventful day is not a bad thing" in her ST column struck a chord in me, especially in her concluding paragraphs:

Time is indeed a great healer. For example, my mother's stroke on May 12 last year made me feel like my world had been turned upside down. But over the months, I have been able to accept her disabilities and carry on with life as normally as possible, although when I am with her, I still feel a sense of sadness.

A day passed without something memorable is a day passed without a major disaster or triumph. It is not a bad thing not to have too many memorable days.

We share the same pain as both our mothers suffered a stroke. For me, accepting my mom's disabilities would probably take longer, as I am nowhere as resilient as the doctor.

The day my mom was discharged from her second hospitalisation, it was indeed an eventful day as, apart from all the waiting, a nurse removed my mom's urine catheter by mistake! In the end, they had to re-insert another one. Moreoever, when we reached home, I discovered a new wound on her back under the old one, which had nearly healed.

Though back home after her second hospitalisation, we have lost some ground we gained earlier. She used to be able to utter a word or two, but now she has not spoken a word since her discharge.

I do hope for an eventful day, the day when she can speak, even for just a word or two.

Aaron
20 December 2009

My own composed song

Hi everyone,I have composed my own song. When my father heard the song, he said it was nice. He then helped me to write down the score. I tried thinking of a title but I don't know what title is suitable for the song. So, today I'm going to my Yamaha class to play for everyone so that my teacher will tell me what title is suitable for my song.

Back to the hospital

Cowen and I barely walked out of the our block on our way to the polyclinic this morning at about 9am as Cowen was feeling a little unwell, when I received a call from Jovelyn, our domestic helper, that mom acted strangely -- her arms were shaking and she made strange noises. We quickly turned back.

Mom wasn't looking good. She wasn't responding to me and she couldn't focus her eyes on me when I asked her to do so. Recognising that as a possible sign of a stroke or an impending stroke, I called the ambulance immediately.

This is the second time in less than four months I found myself at the A&E of TTSH. Coincidentally, on both occasions Cowen was by my side, and on both occasions the boy wasn't feeling very well.

They put mom in a normal ward. I noticed that her eyes were somewhat fixated to her right. The comforting thing is that she could now respond to me, and looked much better than in the morning. I left mom to the care of Jovelyn as I needed to conduct a meeting back in office.

I went back to TTSH in the afternoon. Mom's condition seemed to have stabilised. She has regained movement in her right arm, but lost the mobility of her weaker left arm. She was able to roll her eyes a bit now, but still unable to roll them to her left. She has also regained her responsiveness.

She was put on a no-food diet as she needs to undergo a blood test tomorrow. I have to wait for the scan result.

I couldn't stay long as I had to bring Cowen to his music lesson. After the lesson I checked with Jovelyn and I was told mom has also regained a bit of the movement of her right leg.

One of my friends said this is like "three steps forwards, two steps back". I just have to resign to the fact that previous stroke victims are more susceptible to stroke.

Things have been looking up over the past few weeks until today. I harboured high hope that mom is on her way to recovery, though I recognise that it could not be hurried. Now, I'm more frightened than ever. No matter how hard you try, you just never know what will happen next.

Is this what they call the trial of resilience? A test on your adversity quotient?

I said to mom by her ears, if this is some kind of challenge she has to face, we will face it together.

Aaron

My birthday

Yo, today's my birthday! Well, I think you know what we do for our birthdays. We celebrate then we get our presents and we eat the birthday cake. My cousin Keith came to my house and celebrated with me. That's not all, Keith is going to bunk in with me today. Daddy gave me a present. It is a Lego Space Police set. Okay, I've written so much about my birthday, I will go rest now.

内疚

明天是恺文的八岁生日。

去年，趁着我们刚搬了新家，我为恺文开了一个生日会，邀请了他的所有同学们。我为了准备他的生日会忙了好几个星期，他也兴奋了好几个星期，当天更收到了不少礼物，乐开怀了。

前两个月，我跟他说，“恺文，你的祖母身体不好，今年我不想请你的同学们来庆祝你的生日了。我们只是一家人在家里庆祝，好吗?”

我还以为他会抗议，至少会显得不开心。哪知道，他想了想，竟然说:“ok loh”。

说真的，当时我是蛮感动的。

这几个月以来，我觉得对凯文有点亏欠。因为母亲的事故，弄得我心力交瘁，没有多少剩余的时间来陪他，督促他的功课。有时他的功课做得不好，我还会发脾气骂他。

还记得今年年初，那时母亲还没出事，有一天不知何故，他弄到我很生气。我盛怒之下，一巴掌打了过去。那一巴掌，打得他的眼镜直摔了出去，打得他嚎啕大哭。

还好母亲把我劝了下来。

当恺文小时候顽皮时，我也曾打过他，不过都只是打手掌心，以示惩戒。到了他五岁生日，我觉得他的逻辑思维已经到了一个层次了，便对他说:“恺文，从今天起，爸爸不会再打你了，除非你犯了很严重的错误。”

一直到那天，我都没有再打过他。

怎么料到，那天，我竟然狠狠地一巴掌打了过去。我竟然不守诺言。

一阵子过后，内疚的感觉来了。

他当时躺在床上，还没睡着，虽然背向着我，我却看到他的眼睛还是湿湿的。我走到床边，对他说:“恺文，对不起。爸爸刚才不应该打你。”

他说:“你知道就好了。”

我摸着他的头，说:“以后如果爸爸失控，你要对我说:‘爸爸，请你冷静下来。’或是用英语说: Daddy, please cool down! ”

现在想起，我都觉得自己既可恶又可笑。

这次他的考试成绩，还是达不到我的水准。但是令我感到很欣慰的，是学校老师们对他的评语都非常的正面。他还拿到了学校颁发的 Stars award，是奖励那些品德和领导能力好的学生。他也被遴选明年当上级长(prefect)。

看来，我应该更加努力，给自己的儿子做个好榜样。

Aaron

谈华文

最近，华文又成了城中话题。教育部鉴于过往华文教学方式过于墨守成规和呆板(<海峡时报>, 2009 年11月18日, "MM Lee wants learning of Chinese to be fun", 见文如下)，将来个大改革(<海峡时报>, 2009 年11月22日, "Okay to use English to teach Chinese",见文如下)。

Recently, the teaching of the Chinese language has again become a talking point. Spurred by MOE's revelation that Chinese education had consisted too much of boring and ineffective rote learning such as 听写 - spelling - and 默写 - memorisation of passages in the past (see The Straits Times, 18 Nov 2009, "MM Lee wants learning of Chinese to be fun"), the time has come for a wind of change (see The Straits Times, 22 Nov 2009, "Okay to use English to teach Chinese") in the way Chinese is taught.

几年前，当教育部宣布在初级班里以汉语拼音代替汉字时，已引起一些人的不满。我还记得，去年当我出席我儿子恺文就读的学校的一个一年级家长会时，就有一位家长非常担忧为何听写时孩子们只须书写汉语拼音而不是汉字。她那时可能不知道，那只是一个阶段。到了下半年，渐渐地，听写的汉字越来越多。到了二年级，听写单里的都只是汉字了。

A few years back, when MOE announced that hanyu-pinyin is to replace Chinese characters at the start of the Chinese education, there were dissenting voices. I remember in one of the meet-the-parents sessions I attended when my son Cowen was in primary one, a parent raised her deep concern questioning why 听写 (spelling) consisted of hanyu-pinyin and not Chinese characters. Perhaps she wasn't aware that it was a passing phase. Gradually, more Chinese characters would show up in the spelling list, which was indeed the case.

我不晓得这次的回响会有多大。华文难学是一个不争的事实。教育部长黄永宏提出华文教学的三个R: realistic (实事求是)， relevant (切题)，和 responsible (负责)，当中的realistic， 就道出了我们必须面对现实。 说它是妥协也好，是策略也罢，总得想个法子鼓励和激发学生们学习华文的兴趣。就以恺文来说，灵活性的教学方法，和趣味性的教材，正是提高了他对华文的兴趣。我还要强调一点的，就是好的老师，可以让学习更加事半功倍。因此以我个人立场来看，求变是必须的。

I wonder how's the reaction this time. Difficulty in learning Chinese is beyond doubt. Mr Ng Eng Hen, Minister for Education, in highlighting the 3 R's in the new Chinese education: realistic, relevant and responsible, is a tacit admission of this reality. I am in support of the necessary changes, as Cowen has benefited from the flexible teaching style and fun-filled materials and environment. However, I must add that a good teacher is an important part of the equation as well.

一个好的策略，需要一个好的施行来配合。比如说，如何实行用英文来教导华文，将决定这策略的成败。当中必定要拿捏得精确，因为如有差错，可能就会弄巧反拙，功亏一篑。是成是败，有待见证。

At the end of the day, a good policy takes a good implementation to work. For instance, like anything else, the effectiveness of using English to teach Chinese remains very much on how it is actually conducted. We will just have to wait and see.

Aaron Tan
22 November 2009

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Nov 18, 2009
MM Lee wants learning of Chinese to be fun
By Clarissa Oon & Cai Haoxiang

CHINESE language teachers should pull out all the stops to make learning the mother tongue fun for children, a rising number of whom are not speaking it at home, Minister Mentor Lee Kuan Yew said last night.

They should also teach listening and conversation skills first, rather than the reading and writing of Chinese characters which could potentially turn off young Chinese Singaporeans from the language, he added.

Reflecting on some 40 years of bilingual education in an off-the-cuff speech at the official opening of a Chinese language centre, he said Singapore's policy on the learning of Chinese started on the wrong footing because he believed in the past that it was possible to master two languages equally well.

As a result, Chinese lessons in the old days were pitched at too difficult a level and 'successive generations of students paid a heavy price because of my ignorance', he said.

He was addressing an audience of 250 policymakers, academics and educators at the opening of the Singapore Centre for Chinese Language (SCCL).

'I wasn't helped by Ministry of Education (MOE) officials. They were basically two groups of people, one English-speaking, the other Chinese-teaching,' he quipped.

Chinese teachers in the 1960s and 1970s were Chinese-educated purists who emphasised character-writing and dictation in the teaching of Chinese as a second language, which 'turned the students off completely', he recalled.

As Prime Minister, he intervened successively over the years to fine-tune Singapore's bilingual policy.

Eventually, MOE decided in 2004 to teach Mandarin through a modular system, allowing each child to go at his own pace.

The policy, he acknowledged with a laugh, is still 'not completely right but I will get it right if I live long enough'.

The SCCL, located at Ghim Moh Road, was set up by the MOE in February to train existing Chinese-language teachers and research how best to teach Chinese in a bilingual environment.

At its official opening last night, it signed agreements with four partner institutions to conduct joint research and offer degree and training programmes for teachers. Its partners are the Media Development Authority, SIM University, the University of Hong Kong and NTUC's Seed Institute.

Bilingualism has become a major concern of MM Lee's in recent years, amid fears that the Chinese language is losing currency. Latest MOE data show that 59 per cent of the Primary 1 cohort this year came from families that speak mainly English at home, compared to 49 per cent just five years ago and 10 per cent in 1982.

Earlier this month, in an interview carried in the People's Action Party magazine Petir, he cited bilingualism as the most difficult policy he had to implement, and the one which should have been done differently from the start.

This was because he did not realise that a child's intelligence and language ability were two different things, something which his daughter, a neurologist, confirmed late in his life.

Yesterday, he urged parents and educators not just to expose children to the Chinese language from a young age, but also to stimulate the child's interest in the language, beyond just 'passing exams'.

'I want to get this message into the heads of the younger generation of teachers: Use IT, use drama, use every method to capture the interest of children,' he said.

One example of how the SCCL is making the learning of Chinese fun is through mobile phone technology. This was shown at a conference yesterday afternoon by one of the centre's lecturers.

Dr Wong Lung Hsiang directed an experiment in which students used camera phones to take photos of anything they wanted to outside of class. They then uploaded their pictures onto the Internet, incorporating a Chinese idiom into the picture caption.

Their Chinese teacher then guided the class in a discussion on the accurate use of those idioms, which Dr Wong said works better than the direct correction of mistakes.

The conference on how to teach Chinese in an interesting and effective way was attended by more than 400 teachers and researchers from here and abroad.

The three-day conference ends tomorrow.

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Nov 22, 2009
Okay to use English to teach Chinese
Education Minister's message to teachers: It is effective for kids from
English-speaking homes
By Goh Chin Lian

Using English to teach Chinese has proven to be effective for children from predominantly English-speaking homes.

So, teachers should not be hung up on whether it is taboo to use a mix of English and Chinese for these children, Education Minister Ng Eng Hen said yesterday.

He also revealed that a task force is due to make proposals soon on how this group of children can be taught the language.

'We think we've to make certain significant changes,' he told reporters after a conference on dyslexia, adding that parents would be given ample notice of the changes.

As for worries that Chinese standards would slip, Dr Ng pointed out that the education system allows children who are able to pursue the language at a higher level to do so.

'It's not that you have one method that you can teach the whole population,' he said, suggesting different strokes for different folks.

'Just as (we have) our ability-driven and customised approach to other subjects, whether English, mathematics or science, you also have to apply this to mother tongue.'

The challenge facing educators is what he called a 'seismic shift' in the language environment: Six in 10 of this year's Primary 1 cohort came from homes where mainly English is spoken, up from one in 10 in 1982.

Their ranks look set to swell in one or two decades, warranting a relook at the way Chinese is taught so that children are not put off by the language, said Dr Ng.

His remarks follow Minister Mentor Lee Kuan Yew's call last week for Chinese language teachers to make learning the language fun.

Mr Lee observed that Singapore's policy on learning Chinese started on the wrong footing because he had believed it was possible to master two languages equally well.

Chinese lessons were pitched at too difficult a level and 'successive generations of students paid a heavy price because of my ignorance'.

Dr Ng suggested teachers tap infocommunications technology to make learning more interesting and relevant by, say, creating a virtual restaurant that immerses students in a Mandarin-speaking environment.

Asked about the people who had to bear with the old way of teaching Chinese, he said it was still possible to pick up the language, citing Mr Lee and himself as examples.

Dr Ng took tuition in Chinese so that he could speak to his residents at Meet-the-People sessions and deliver speeches at community events.

Similarly, pupils from English- speaking homes may not be proficient in Chinese, but they should be able to converse and take an interest in Chinese culture.

'If we can teach them to use it, I think we have succeeded. If they can perform in the exam but hate the language, what have we achieved? We have not achieved anything.'

Ms Natalie Mah, 40, who speaks English to her two children aged nine and seven, welcomed any innovative way to help them grasp the Chinese language.

Said the public relations consultant: 'When you are trying to break through to the child, using a language familiar to him will help.'

Madam Lye Choon Hwan, head of mother tongue at Anglo-Chinese School (Junior), said it introduced the bilingual way of teaching Chinese in 2002, with some success.

Teachers gave instructions in English and Mandarin initially to Primary 1 pupils who had no prior exposure to Chinese. They let pupils use some English in class, but taught them to say the same thing in Mandarin. 'They were more bubbly and confident to speak up because they were not afraid to express themselves,' she said.

My first awards

Hi everyone, I'm so happy! Do you know why? Because today I received some awards for the first time in my life!

I received the Hong Wen Stars Award, and also the Exemplary Pupil of the Class award!

By the way, next year I am going to be a prefect for the first time!

Today is the last day of school. I am very happy because I can relax during the holiday. I'm going to play! Hey kids, what are you going to do this school holiday?

Cowen

耐心

一晃眼，离母亲发生意外那天已有三个月。母亲出院回家休养也有五个星期。母亲的精神和气色还算蛮好，双手有某程度上的活动能力(右手比左手强)。只是到目前为止，双脚还不能动，也不能说话。

其实也不能说她完全丧失了说话的能力，至少我有三趟亲耳听到她说了话。

第一次，当我不小心弄疼她的脚，她就喊了一句:“你整到我脚！”

第二次，当我问她:“你认得我吗?”她挣扎着激动地说:“认得！”

第三次，当我捡起了她掉在地上的假花，开玩笑地对她说:“你同我讲thank you，我就俾番朵花你。”她竟然说出了“thank you”！

每个人，包括医生，都说这将是个“持久战”。我也已做好了心理准备。

然而，有时又难免烦燥不安。尤其当母亲恢复记忆时，脸上彷惶的表情，泪水中焦虑的情绪，都让我心如刀割。

无言的对望，竟是如此的沉重。我只有再三的安抚:“唔使急，慢慢来。今日唔得，听日再试过。”(不用急，慢慢来。今天不行，明天再试。)

嘴里虽这么说，心里却巴不得那天立刻来临。

如果可以，我宁愿承受一切。

目前，只有接受一切。

需要的，就是耐心。

和

爱。

Aaron

Don't cry

It has been a week since my mom returned home from the hospital.

She has since made a little progress. She is eating quite well, oat meal for breakfast, porridge for lunch and dinner, and milk in between. She can raise her right arm further than before if she wants to. Occasionaly I would wheelchair her to the living room or downstairs. When she saw a sad scene on TV, she would cry.

However, one moment she could remember you, and the next moment she would stare blankly at you.

I still talk to her non-stop. Whenever she forgets, I have to tell her everything all over again. It is hard to communicate because the only reaction she could do is to blink her eyes. How I wish she can talk.

Actually she did talk, once, when I hurt her leg accidentally while trying to shift her on the bed one night."你整到我脚!" ("你弄到我的脚", or "You hurt my leg") she exclaimed. I was shocked. When I asked her to repeat what she said, she couldn't.

Last time, when I watched movies in which the paralysed guy got so agitated that he managed to stand up, regain his speech and started to scold the baddie, I thought what bullshit that is. Now I know there might be some truth in it. One has to get really agitated, or perhaps in pain, for that to happen.

So I threatened mom: "If you still don't talk, I will start pinching you!"

She also laughed once. That evening she kept looking at the clock which stood at 7pm. I tried to figure out what she meant, making guesses from 7th uncle to 开门七件事. After many many attempts, I gave up and said, "Mom, are you kidding me?" Then she laughed!

But the past two days, even though I was spending most of the time at her bedside over the weekend talking to her, she couldn't seem to recognise me.

Aaron

Miracle!

I brought mom back at about 2:30pm today. I started to talk to her as usual, and I turned on the TV in the room.

At about 7pm when I was working on my computer in the living room, Jovelyn our domestic helper told me that mom cried while watching a TV programme. I was rather doubtful.

I went into mom's bedroom and started talking to her again. I asked her the same question I had asked the umpteenth time: "Mom, do you recognise me? If you do, blink your eyes." And, for a moment I thought my eyes trick me, she did! To be sure, I asked her a second time, and a third time, and without fail, she blinked her eyes! And she started to cry!

How elated I was, I just couldn't describe. I cried too, but it was tears of joy. Immediately I phoned Jane, who was with Cowen and her mother and on their way home.

It is simply a miracle. Barely five hours after stepping into the home, mom has managed to regain her memory of me! All the weeks of non-stop talking and singing at the hospital by her bedside, sometimes at the expense of the patient at the next bed, has finally paid off!

However, when Jane, Cowen and my mother-in-law returned, mom doesn't seem to recognise them all.

I guess we just have to take thing one step at a time.

Aaron

Mom is home

On this day 4 October 2009, mom is back home at half past two, after 7 weeks of hospital stay, and two visits to the ICU.

She is able to move her right arm and fingers, though her left arm is still weak. She is unable to walk, talk, or recognise us. It will be a long road to recovery and I am prepared for it.

In the photo, she is holding a stalk of toy sunflower in her right hand (I bought it for her to use as a pointer), and the teddy bear in her left. She is playful with the sunflower.

She is back in her own bedroom. I have got the adjustable bed, an air-bubble mattress and a wheel-chair. She is able to sit on the wheel-chair now, and I intend to bring her out from time to time to get some fresh air.

She is a strong woman, and I will learn to emulate her strength.

Aaron

Back to ICU

Last night I received a call from the doctor at TTSH. Mom had a sudden infection and had to be warded into the ICU immediately. I was very worried the whole night, and rushed to the hospital next morning to see the doctor for an update.

The doctors were not able to identify the bug, so they put her on a dose of general antibiotics, until they can locate the actual bug. She is responding well to the medicine, and has regained consciousness, and is able to squeeze my hand with her thumb again.

Another day of hopping by the hospital (three times today). But as long as mom is fine, everything is worth it.

She is supposedly due to be transferred to Ren Ci tomorrow, but due to this sudden infection, they have to postpone the transfer yet another time. My domestic helper Jovelyn has started to learn how to take care of mom from the nurses, but the training has to be deferred for now.

As I left the ICU, I placed the teddy bear gently back onto her palm.

Aaron

Departure of a good friend Chionh Eng Wee

After visiting my mom at TTSH, I dropped by at the Singapore Casket to pay respect to a colleague and friend, Associate Professor Chionh Eng Wee (http://www.comp.nus.edu.sg/~chionhew), who had succumbed to cancer after a three-year fight. He is survived by his wife and son.

I've known Eng Wee for many years, though not very close personally. I remember him as a very helpful and courteous guy. My closest working experience with him is the National Olympiad in Informatics, when his first became a member of the Scientific Committee in the inaugural event in 1998, and became the Chairman of the Scientific Committee in the following year, holding the position through the years except for 2002 when he was on sabbatical leave, and 2007 when he stepped down due to his health. All these years, when I started as the Honorary Secretary of NOI and later the Chairman of NOI in 2005, he had been of tremendous help and had contributed greatly to the success of the yearly event.

He had his own views about education and the students. I still remember his insistence that all Computing students must know regular expressions, and his disagreement on how mathematics are taught in schools these days.

Due to his very amiable nature, many colleagues like to tease him, and he was absolutely cool about it.

I'm saddened at the loss of a wonderful guy. May he rest in peace.

[Eng Wee's wake is at the Singapore Casket, 131 Lavendar Street, Emerald Room (level 3). There will be a service at about 8pm tonight. The cremation will be held tomorrow (21 September) 4:30pm at Mandai. They will leave for the cremation at about 3:30pm.)]

Aaron

Arrival of Jovelyn

After about two weeks of looking around and waiting (including one and a half hours of going through the Employers' Orientation Programme (EOP) online course for first-time employers like myself -- and the course is mounted by Singapore Polytechnic!), my foreign domestic helper Ms Jovelyn, a Filipino, arrived in the afternoon today.

I met her at the employment agency and brought her home for a quick orientation, and then we proceeded to Tan Tock Seng Hospital to orientate her with the enironment, and also to introduce her to mom, more for formality than anything, since my mom can't recognise and respond anyway. In fact, even if my mom had been well, I doubt if she could pronounce Jovelyn properly.
After Jovelyn and I returned from the hospital, it's time for me to bring Cowen to his weekly music class. After the music lesson, we reached home at 10pm.

Tomorrow (Friday) will be a long day at work, so I have arranged the hospital to start the training for Jovelyn on Saturday morning. I would certainly tag along. It would take a couple of days (depending on how fast we can pick things), and good thing is that next week is the university's 1-week recess, so I've taken a week of leave to attend to mom.

They plan to shift mom to Ren Ci Hospital on Tuesday, as her white blood cells count has gone back to normal.

This weekend I will also go shopping for adjustable bed. I came across the Solax health bed at a shop in TTSH, and I looked up the internet and found the Rainbow Care Equipment selling adjustable beds of different models. I think I will go for the latter, as they also sell the alternating pressure mattress which is ideal for my mom as she will be lying permanently on the bed, which will cause bed sores.

If any reader has any suggestion or recommendation, I would appreciate if you could drop me a note. Thank you in advance.

(BTW, I have a facebook account and you can search for Aaron Tan.)

As for my mom's current bed, I guess I have to dismantle it. The sorry thing is that the mattress I bought for her is a pretty good one, and it's been used for only a year plus. Now, I will have to get rid of it, as I have no space to keep it.

Coming back to the domestic helper. Given a choice, I would never have wanted to employ one. I am just worried about the impact on Cowen. Not that I am worried about any negative influence from the helper on him. I have seen kids who scream at their domestic helper and boss them around (well, I have seen kids who scream at their grandparent too). I had to explain to Cowen that she is here to help take care of his mah-mah, and not a servant. He still has to tidy his own belongings, get his own drink, and we still have to do our own household chores. First and foremost, he has to respect her and greet her.

As a first-time employer, I am also apprehensive about whether she is comfortable with us. You know, I am not a person of words, so most of the time I just keep quiet and do my own stuffs, and she also keeps quiet. From time to time, to break the silence I would ask her "do you have any questions/problems?" as though I am conducting a lesson (sorry, occupational hazard). She just sat at one corner quietly, as I didn't have anything for her to do. At one point when I spilled my drink I took the table cloth and cleaned it, totally forgetting that she was just sitting a few metres away. And when I brought her to the supermarket to buy some stuffs for her, I found myself queueing up for the cashier! So I think her first day of work must be very uneventful and a complete bore.

And now Jovelyn is sleeping in my mom's room. In fact, the whole family is sleeping, except me. I'm still slogging with my work (but taking a break typing this). Always the last to sleep, the first to rise (at 5am in the morning). Sigh...

I don't quite understand how some employers could bear to mis-treat their domestic helpers. You read the news, some of these employers are educated professionals like the teachers and doctors. Even some people whom I know are also known to be quite harsh to their helpers, sometimes scolding them in public (using words like "stupid" and "idiot"), or the 'kinder' ones might scold them in a language the helper wouldn't understand. And some of these employers are usually the nice people you meet on a normal day!

When some people knew that I was looking for a domestic helpers, they gave me 'advice' like "don't give them any off-day", "don't be too nice to them". I wonder, oh my, why?

When my mom was well, sometimes we did discuss how people treat their domestic helpers. She is of the same mind as I, that these domestic helpers are here to earn a living, and we have no right to treat them as lesser beings, just because we are financially better off or we are their boss.

I bought a small teddy bear for my mom last week. I tried to look for the letter "M" on the bear, but it wasn't available. In the end I got one with the letter "L", as it is the first letter of her surname.

I bought mom this teddy bear because she likes to grab my hand and squeeze, so I wanted her to have something to squeeze when I am not around. Indeed, when I visited her today, I found her squeeze a little bit stronger, and she is now able to turn her wrist a little.

Aaron

我的母亲 (6): 勿忘我

14 September 2009

It has been a month since that fateful day.

My mom has been lying on the bed in the hospital since then.

Today, they will transfer her to Rec Ci Hospital. My maid will arrive this week. I hope she will be able to go for some training during my 1-week recess, so that I can attend the training as well.

The past few weeks were lousy. When everybody was telling me to take good care of myself, I had to fall sick. Really bad bout of flu, high fever, headache. One came after another.

There was one night I was screaming in pain when my headache struck. Really 'lame'. The last time I had such an acute headache was when I was a school boy, and that was years ago.

My whole body was so tired that basically I dragged myself everywhere I went. I dozed off at every opportunity, on the bus and train. One day when I visited mom, I dozed off on her bed while holding her hands, in the hospital.

When you are supposed to be strong, such mockery is laughing in your face.

I refused to be laughed at though. I talked to her non-stop. I sang to her even. All the Cantonese songs she used to hear me singing at home, hoping that she would recognise them -- Danny Chan's, George Lam's, Leslie Cheung's, Roman Tam's, Sam Hui's. All the oldies.

When I am at home, I play Danny Chan's songs on the computer.

There must be hopes.

Last week, she started to move her thumb on one hand, and then day by day, the other
fingers on one hand, and then the fingers on the other hand.

She is now able to squeeze lightly when I hold on to her hands. She is beginning to even move her wrist a little; I can feel it.

Hopefully, she is able to gain back control over her body bit by bit, including talking.

But what I most desire is her ability to recognise us, which at the moment, seems to be just a hope.

"How can you forget me?" I keep repeating this to her.

I always have this disbelief that a person can suddenly forget the people he knows. I can't believe my mom can forget me, the person she has known and has been living with for almost half a century.

It is an unbearable pain that goes beyond words.

"How can you forget me, mom?"

Aaron

[Update: The hospital has postponed transferring my mom to Ren Ci, due to low white blood cells count.]

亲情:我的母亲 (5)

26 August 2009

Fear. Comes. True.

The mobile phone rang just as I finished this morning's lecture, while some students were queueing up to ask questions. From the other side of the line came the dreadful question: given your mom's current condition, should she lapse into critical state, would I want them to try all means to save her?

Over the past one week, despite repeated whispering into her ear, she had shown no response. What else can I do, except to hope against hope, hope beyond hope?

Just carry on hoping.

Aaron

亲情:我的母亲 (4)

19-22 August 2009

If Tuesday is deemed to have ended in a positive note, the next few days nullified it quickly.

The high hope that was generated the evening before was brutally dashed when I arrived at mom's bed on Wednesday (19 August) afternoon to see her slipping into a state of deep drowsiness, brought on by a fever caused by an infection. Despite me shaking and calling her, speaking into her ear, she showed not a sign of acknowledgement whatsoever.

She remained in that slumberous state for the next few days, appearing to have been depleted of all energy. Each day, hope against hope, I stepped into the ward looking forward to her greeting me, even if it was to be a silent eye contact, or a light grasping of my hand. No. My wish was not met. She had been transferred from ICU to HDU (high-dependency unit), and then to the general ward, sleeping through all of these transactions and totally unaware of anything.

I found my own energy slowly sapping away, nodding off all so often on bus and train. I found myself getting edgy, scolding Cowen for the slightest mistake he made in his school work or mischief he did at home. I found myself aching whenever I had to answer the question of "How's your mom?" from well-meaning friends and relatives, as if reliving the ordeal once more. I found myself, apologetically, putting aside emails from friends who expressed their concern. In fact, I've procrastinated updating this blog as long as I could, with the hope that I could offer something a little more joyful.

There were moments I wish there were people rallying around me, people from whom I could draw their strength; yet there were moments I just wanted to be alone. And alone I am now, with Jane and Cowen back at my in-law's home to spend the weekend. They need their rest too, with Cowen just recovered from fever last week and seemed to get tired more easily these few days, and Jane who fell sick a few days ago.

It's so quiet around here now.

Aaron

亲情:我的母亲 (3)

17 August 2009, Monday

When I woke up this morning, the pain and itchiness in my left eye became quite unbearable. I sent Cowen off to his school bus, then dropped by Clementi polyclinic on my way to work. The doctor prescribed chloramphenicol for my eye infection.

The morning moved rather quickly. After attending a meeting, I proceeded to TTSH. They had switched on the fan and draped a wet towel over mom's forehead. I learned that she was having a fever and some infection. Like the day before, she could respond to movements, but still couldn't say my name, though she looked rosier, probably due to the blood transfusion she received, which I believe also accounted for her BP reaching sub 200.

I went home to meet my mother-in-law, who would be staying with us for the time being, helping us to look after Cowen. Cowen was apparently very happy to see his grandmother. He dropped his school bag immediately and went over to his easel whiteboard to scribble these words:

As L* K* H* is away, a new
volunteer named S* G* E*
will be taking over.

LKH is my mom's name and SGE my mother-in-law's. "Volunteer?" I looked at Cowen dubiously, "They are not volunteers. They are your grandmas!"

But on second thought, Cowen was quite right. They are indeed volunteers.

That afternoon passed even more quickly than the morning. I brought Cowen and my mother-in-law to visit mom. This time, I introduced Cowen to mom as "Dai Ngan Zai" (大眼仔), which is her favourite nickname for him. ("Mun Mun", on the other hand, is my favourite.) Mom repeated "dai ngai zai" over and over again.

After sending both of them home, I went to the hospital the third time in the same day to meet my relatives: third uncle, his wife and daughter, fourth aunt and seventh uncle. It was a village so I had to sneak them up to the ward in batches.

Everybody sent forth comforting words decorously in an attempt to console me. My mind, however, meandered between high hope and reality as I listened painfully to the maundering of mom.

18 August 2009, Tuesday

I had a long day in office today. Though my colleagues had kindly volunteered to help cover my lectures, I did it myself in the end, as I thought the best way to take one's mind off one thing is to keep it occupied with something else.

It was past seven when I reached the ward. Mom seemed to look her best in days. Her fever had subsided, and she appeared to be surveying the room. She could respond to my call, though she still could not get beyond mumbling a few words at a time, mostly repeating my nickname. And when I held her hand loosely and asked her to grip mine tightly, the pressure I felt on my hand could not be mistaken. It certainly lifted my spirit a bit.

But the moment that made my voice crack came when I bid her "bye bye" before I left. "Bye bye", she echoed. Just as I was about to straighten up my body and turn, I heard her weak voice: "bye bye, 睇车", "bye bye, 睇车".

"睇车" is her oft-use reminder whenever I bid her goodbye. In that instance, I felt the connection between us come back.

亲情:我的母亲 (2)

Jane was sobbing, still startled at the news. "It's so sad," she sighed, "I shouldn't have quarrelled with mom so much. I am sorry I caused so much hurt in this family because I wanted my own way of living. I realised it is so stupid of me not treasuring what I have and love all my family members."

At that moment, I felt relieved and grateful. Jane and mom have never been able to see eye to eye on many things, both being hardheaded and each insisting on her own way of things.

To be fair, it takes two hands to clap so all parties share some responsibility,
including myself.

But why must one wait to be presented with the prospect of permanent loss before one casts aside differences, takes a step back and focuses on goodnesses?

Have we all learned? That all the time expended on unnecessary pains and squabbles could have been better spent on simply treasuring the people around us?

Just two months ago, Jane had a cancer scare. Fortunately it turned out to be a benign tumour, and it had since been removed.

Six years ago, my mom was found sitting on the floor by her bed one morning, appearing disoriented and too weak to get up. She had been complaining about some gastric pain for a couple of days, but it turned for the worse. She was sent to the hospital, and diagnosed for a case of bleeding stomach ulcer. She escaped surgery, and was eventually nursed back to health.

18 years ago, dad stopped breathing suddenly one night. I applied CPR on him and managed to get him come round the first time, but moment later his breathing stopped again and this time despite all my attempts to revive him, he left us.

Dad's sudden demise came as a shock. There was no sign that it was to happen, apart from the fact that he was old. I felt miserable, because he left us sooner than I could hold his hand and say "I love you". Ironically, it happened so fast that it looked quite painless, and I took comfort in the fact that though he would not hear those words, it had always be known, tacitly, that way in our hearts, all the same, all the time.

15 August 2009, Saturday

I woke up early in the morning, with my left eye stinging. When I looked into the mirror, I saw a blood-shot eye. "Ruptured blood vessels", I mumbled to myself. I dropped some lotion onto it and yelled in pain as it came into contact with the eye. It used to work, but this time the redness remained.

I checked the emails to find replies from all my co-lecturers, offering to cover my duties should I need it.

One of the reasons I like my job so much, besides the joy of teaching and the opportunities to meet young people, is the fortune of knowing this bunch of wonderful colleagues.

I made my way to my in-laws' home, to spend some time with Cowen supervising his school work in compensation for lost time. He would be having an enjoyable time with his cousin over the weekend.

Anxious to visit mom, I reached the hospital half an hour before the visiting hours of 12 to 2pm. I now saw posters on alert yellow flanking the passageway, not taking notice of them the day before. After registering myself and collecting the sticker and the mask, I went up to the ward, but was denied access as it was too early. I retreated to the waiting area, flipped open my 766-page Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix to while away time. At 12 noon I went in again, but some four or five persons in white were gathering around mom's bedside. At 12:15pm I attempted a third time, but the nurse needed to clean her. Finally, at 12:30pm
I had the chance to look at mom and touch her, the first time after her operation.

She had never looked so frail. Half of her head was shaved, and the bandages marked out the trail where the cut was made. It was hard to visualise the person in front for a fiery woman whom she once was. Mom is the strict disciplinarian, while my late dad was the quiet and gentlemanly one. During my childhood, hardly a week passed without some form of disciplinary measures being administered on me by her. And the measures weren't about caning; that's just too tame. It's needle. Yes, needle, true to her name as a seamstress. To me, she is the first 东方不败, the formidable one who wielded her fearful needle masterfully and mercilessly.

But then, I could never imagine another mother who dotes on her child more. This might sound like oxymoron - cruel love - but in the older days, people truly believed in 打是爱. These days, such parents could be hauled to the court for child abuse.

Now, wrists bound to the side of the bed, eyes mostly closed except for the occasional blinking, the once hardy body seemed to have its energy drained off through the assortment of pipes running into her various cavities, some natural, some man-made, all over the body.

Six years ago I was saved the ordeal of seeing her in such a state, owing to the strict no-visitor ruling imposed at the height of SARS. Now, I had to bear the full brunt of the sight.

The only signs of life came from her heavy breathing, movements of her limbs in attempts to wriggle herself out of discomfort, and the waveforms and figures flashing on the monitor, which provides the consolation coming from recognising that the readings were quite normal. She wasn't in a vegetative state. She wasn't paralysed. I struck off two of the worst scenarios.

I stroked my fingers gently over her dry and wrinkled face. "Mi (the way I call her), can you hear me? I'm Ah Marhn (the way she calls me)." I said that in Cantonese over and over again. Tears welled up as I spoke.

After what appeared like a long time, she opened her eyes for a brief moment, muttered a weak "Ah Marhn", then fell back into what seemed like a slumber again.

The nurse walked in and heard me. She gave me a smile; I could see it though her face was hidden behind her mask. I smiled back and said: "She is a bit quiet today. When she gets well she will start scolding people." I could see the nurse raise her eye-brows, visible above the mask.

I wasn't joking. The last time mom was warded she told off a young doctor who passed her a cup of water to drink, without first washing the cup. "That's not hygienic!" she scolded the doctor. You can see how fastidious she is.

I was back to the ward that same evening, this time accompanied by Jane. Mom opened her eyes in response to us calling her, this time her eyes seemed to linger on us a little longer. Jane commented at one point: "When I call mom she seems to respond more quickly." "Yes," I said, "maybe she recognises your voice so she wants to get up to scold you. So, please call her more."

16 August 2009, Sunday

I woke up late this morning, at 8am. The long sleep cured the headache but my left eye still hurt, and the red was getting worse. I put on more eye lotion, yelping at
each drop that hit the eye.

I checked the date. I had missed the Singapore Bay Run.

I did a bit of house chores. Then I wanted to work on my lecture notes but couldn't focus much, and since I had told myself not to work if possible on Sunday due to an incident a couple of years back (let's save this for another time), I set off for the gym, but not before I passed the bag of old newspapers to the "char siew" sisters, friends of mom and store-holders who sell nice char siew and roast meat at the wet market opposite my block. I updated them about my mom.

I was on my way to the hospital that it struck me that I hadn't informed any of my mom's sisters and brothers.

When I reached the ward I basically went through the same thing I did the day before, talking to mom and asking if she could recognise me. She started to utter 'Mun Mun', and repeated that over and over again. 'Mun Mun' is the way I call Cowen sometimes.

"I am not 'Mun Mun'," I said, "I am your son. I am 'Ah Marhn'. 'Mun Mun' is your grandson." I spoke very slowly.

That evening I brought some relatives to visit her. Mom didn't seem to recognise us all. When I posed the question "Do you recognise me? Who am I?" again, the only words she would repeat were "Mun Mun, Mun Mun".

Could it be that a task undone -- fetching Cowen from his school bus on Friday -- had been etched into her subconsciouseness so deeply, or could it be just me finding a reason to explain away a random utterance?

The answer may never come to light.

亲情:我的母亲 (1)

I'm Aaron, Cowen's dad. I think I will be hijacking my boy's blog for some time until he is ready to take over.

I would have preferred this blog to start with something light and pleasurable. But life is unpredictable. Certain parts in my post below may be too vivid for comfort, so if you don't have a strong stomach, please do consider skipping it.

14 August 2009

It was an usual Friday in office until I sensed something unusual when I called home several times around 1:15pm, my usual routine to check that Cowen is home. Cowen should have reached home by now, as his school dismisses at 12:30pm on Friday, but nobody picked up the phone. At about 1:20pm my wife Jane called me. Mom wasn't to be found at the ground floor greeting Cowen from his school bus. The boy went upstairs himself and pressed the door bell to which nobody answered. Cowen then went over to our neighbour to use their phone to call Jane, who then called me.

I called home again. Still unsuccessful. "Mom won't let this happen", an uncomfortable thought nagged me. I picked up my bag and went over to my colleague's desk and explained to her that I needed to go back, as we were to meet at 2pm to head for a meeting outside NUS together. I told her I would get to the meeting myself, though in most certainty I would be late.

I managed to flag a taxi very quickly. As I reached for its door another colleague walked past and waved at me. I waved back, showing a signal that I was in a hurry to go.

I found mom on the floor

2pm.

I went up to my neighbour's house to fetch Cowen, but without waiting for him, hurriedly got into my own and my fear materialised right before my eyes.

It wasn't a pretty sight. Lying motionlessly on the floor just outside the bathroom, mom was surrounded by what seems to be a patch of blood and vomits, with a rag nearby.

I went down to check her pulse. A thick clot of blood hung from her right nostril, carving a scarlet trail all the way across half of her face to her right ear and down onto her dress. It was a stroke of luck that she lay sideway, or she could have been choked on her own vomits. I shook her and talked to her, but she did not respond, except for some movement that appeared to be a grimace.

I could hear Cowen's footsteps behind me. "Mah-mah (paternal grandmother in Cantonese) is still breathing." I heard him. "Yes" I said crisply without turning my head. "Quick, go get changed. We have to send mah-mah to the hospital". I mopped the blood from her face and moved her slightly away from the pool of mixture, but not daring to move her too much in case she had suffered some bone injuries.

I grabbed the leaflets from the mail-holder where I keep leaflets of all sorts, found the number for calling private ambulance and dialed it. Nobody answered! Dialed again. Still nobody answered! Fed-up, I called 999.

While waiting for the ambulance, I examined mom for any sign of external injuries. I removed her ear-rings as they were rather sharp at their end. I kept talking to her, but in her semi-unconscious state all I could hear was some incoherent mumbling, or could it be just reflex actions?

"Are you crying, daddy?" came the boy's voice from behind. "No," still not turning my head to face him, I said quickly, "this is not time for tears. Go, quickly get changed. Drink some water. It is going to be a long wait in the hospital."

The police called back. The guy asked a few questions about how my mom was found and wanted to get her IC number. I rummaged her bedroom looking for her handbag, found it but her IC was nowhere to be seen. The guy at the other side of the line repeated "I need to have her IC number." I was in two minds whether to continue searching for the IC or tend to my mom. When things happen too quickly, your mind goes a bit slow. Now feeling fluttered, I spoke into the phone: "Look, I'm busy attending to my mom now. I give you *my* IC number first. Could you call back later when I've found her IC?"

I heard footsteps, several of them, outside my gate now and I knew the paramedics were here. "Open the gate for them, Cowen", I said to Cowen absent-mindedly, still without turning my head as I examined my mom. But that was unnecessary, the gate was already open. The paramedic came in and I quickly updated them, left my mom to their care and went into her bedroom again to continue searching for her IC, for I know I would need it later at the hospital. I found it eventually, in another purse of hers.

In no time, the paramedics got mom on the stretcher and made their way downstairs. As I left the house, I grabbed Cowen's medication from the table and chucked it inside my bag. He had a high fever a few days ago and was still under medication.

At the hospital

While on the ambulance I updated Jane and called my colleague to apologise that I wouldn't be able to make it for the meeting. I sat at the front seat, Cowen behind with his grandma.

We reached Tan Tock Seng hospital. They wheeled her to the emergency room, leaving my boy and me waiting outside.

"I have seen the inside of the ambulance!" Cowen declared enthusiastically. I gave him a wan smile.

The boy is pretty brave. I thought, and I hope. I just hope that it had not be too traumatic for him. He has seen death not too long ago -- his maternal grandfather, my father-in-law, passed away barely eight months ago, and today he has just witnessed the somewhat gruesome scene of his grandmother lying on the floor in a pool of blood.

It was indeed a long wait. They wheeled mom out of the emergency room past us into another room, which I later gathered was for a CT scan. Then they wheeled her past us back into the emergency room.

A doctor came out and told me that she was in a pretty serious condition, and they needed to do a scan to ascertain whether there was any damage to her head. I guessed they guess the same, that my mom might have hit her head when she collapsed.

I took out Cowen's medication and fed him. "I hope mah-mah will be all right." I told him casually. "We can pray to god" he said, rather cheerfully. For a moment, I thought he was going to utter some Christian prayer, because he has this little Children's bible which he reads from time to time. But as he opened his mouth, what came out first was a string of what sounded like Taoist chanting, which I supposed he had picked up from observing his grandfather's funeral. Then, in Mandarin, he uttered this: "Please help mah-mah to recover and be healthy... (I can only remember this part) ... you must do this... ("This sounds more like a command or a threat rather than a prayer", I thought to myself) ... thank you." ("At least you are polite", I thought to myself again.)

"I think Mah-mah will need to go for operation," I said, again casually, just to fill the silence. "Is it pain?" Cowen asked. "You should say 'Is it painful?'", I corrected him for the umpteenth time. He has this bad habit of saying "pain"instead of "painful".

A doctor, this time a different one, came over and took us to see the result of the CT scan on the monitor. Apparently her head must have been hit during the fall, which caused bleeding inside the head, as the scan showed. The danger was imminent, so immediate operation was necessary. However, as part of his job, he conveyed to me the possible outcome of the operation, which ranges from some loss of functions to being paralysed to in the worst case, vegetative state. It would unlikely be back to her old self, I was told, as the doctor surveyed me, asking me to consider it seriously.

Compared to Jane's predicament eight months ago when her family had to make the dreadful decision of whether to pull the plug off her father's life support, it wasn't a difficult decision. I opted for operation almost immediately. They brought her to the ICU, to get ready to operate on her the next moment the OT is available.

Cowen and I waited in a room at the ICU. Cowen was now too tired and drowsy -- the effect of his medicine has kicked in -- and dozed off at the table. Eventually, at about 5:30pm, I got to see mom before they took her to the operating theatre. She was still unconscious. We were told to go home and wait for news, which should be in a couple of hours' time.

The night

Cowen and I went home. I cleaned up the floor, packed up and sent Cowen to my mother-in-law's home in which he would spend the weekend. I then went back to office to make alternative work arrangements.

On my way from office to home, a call from the hospital informed me that mom had been discharged from the OT and back in the ICU, sooner than I had expected. I were to go to the hospital to meet the doctor.

The doctor assured me that the operation had gone well in general. The clotted blood had been drained. However, there was a point when her blood pressure dipped. Low blood pressure may result in insufficient blood supply to the brain, which in turn may cause some damage. The only way to tell is to wait.

It was past midnight when I reached home. I sent out a few emails to update my 'brothers' whom I had SMSed earlier. When I hit the bed, it was past 1am. The past 12 hours was like a whirl...

My Own BLOG!

Hi everyone, it's me Cowen. This is the first time I got my own blog, I am so excited. Question: Do you have your own blog?...ask your dad/mom to tell you or if you don't have one, ask them to create one for you. Thank you!