Emotions Run High: Part II

Maybe it was the nagging or the bossing around. Maybe it was the talking in hushed tones, constant fussing over my dad, or the various advice on what to eat/not to eat.

Or it could of been just lack of sleep from my dad waking up hungry in the middle of the night again. Whatever it was, by Tuesday, I needed a break. I told my dad that I might have to go out. My mom had gone, yet I felt I had gained two mothers in the meantime. My dad laughed.

My aunts complimented me at lunch for doing such a great job cleaning and washing. But it wasn't much comfort. I was starting to get snappy. That afternoon, when my dad went to sleep, I went to a nearby cafe to work on the blog. When I got back, my aunts were sleeping on the couch.

For dinner, my first aunt prepared bai cai xi-fen again, per my father's request, while me and my second aunt went to go get some bentos from this restaurant around the corner. We selected a lot of vegetable and tofu dishes. I also picked up two grilled chicken thigh pieces from a Thai restaurant.

My dad really enjoyed the meal. We had all kinds of stuff, like a mini-feast. My aunts made fun of me, because I only got one boiled egg (for my dad). They said that my dad could eat it and everyone else could "liou kou sui."

But as we were all eating, he started crying unexpectedly. This totally freaked my aunts out. They were like, "What's wrong? What's going on?"

My dad didn't say anything, he just asked them to leave him be for a second. A little later, they talked about coming back the next day. It was their last day, as they were flying out at night. My dad said it wasn't necessary. They should go out to shop. My first aunt was itching to go out on the town, I could tell. My second aunt said she hadn't been back to Taipei for 15 years, but she just wanted to spend time with my dad.

I walked them out, and I asked them what time they were going to come over tomorrow. I figured that it was their last day, and if they wanted to, they should spend as much time as possible with my dad.

As I cleaned up, I told my dad that he should rest as much as he could because we should really take my aunts out to lunch. "It's their last day here," I said. He agreed.

We sat around talking about how he was feeling, Medicare, anti-oxidants, his sisters, growing up, being emotional these last few days. I asked him what made him cry today during dinner.

He said he started missing my mom again.

The next morning, I found out that my dad couldn't really sleep. One of the side effects of the Capecitabine is sleeplessness. Even if he wanted to sleep, he couldn't. He would doze off, but wake up suddenly.

He told me that he kept having this recurring dream of him playing cards with another person whose family name was also Liu. It was these intense card games, and each time he would beat the other person. Each time he won, he would wake up, sweating profusely.

"I don't know what would have happened if I had lost," he said.

I said that maybe the dream was a metaphor: the other person he was playing against was really the cancer within him, and he was mentally trying to win his life back.

At around 10 a.m., we heard my name being called from outside. My dad said, "They're back?" I laughed and let my aunts in. They came in all happy, boisterous and loud. After a few minutes with my dad, I told them that they should let my dad rest if they wanted him to be able to go out to lunch.

At 12:30, I woke up my dad. He was tired, I could tell. He wanted us to go out and get take-out food. But he could tell from the expression on my face that we should go out. I wanted him to try and get up, instead of being home all day for the second day in a row. I helped him get into his clothes and he went to the bathroom to freshen up.

Of course, we went to Taipei 101 again. On the way there, the cab driver overheard my aunts talking about some wonder-soup that's supposed to be good for the body. He started talking about what this soup and that soup, I couldn't understand all of it because he was talking in Taiwanese half the time. But he said how he drinks it every day and he's so healthy. My aunt was like, yeah it must be good because I can tell from your LOUD VOICE.

We went to the Shanghainese restaurant and ordered xiao long bao, chicken soup, sauteed green vegetables and some small dishes including bitter melon.

My aunts were laughing, having a good time. At Taipei 101, they had a little time to do some last-minute shopping. My second aunt bought my dad a book about this woman who had cancer and cured herself just by switching to a healthier diet, eating organic vegetables and certain soups.

They left close to 2 p.m. We hugged goodbye. My first aunt said, "Next time we'll stay longer." Ha-ha-ha.

My dad and I hung out in the food court downstairs. He said being outside feels good. The air is better and he can people-watch. I could tell he hasn't been as sensitive to smells and noise as he was with the first round of chemotherapy.

When we got home, we both took a nap. We were both exhausted.