Tuesday, November 5, 2002
The dreaded moment : The Prognosis.
The doctor paused for a moment before finally suggesting to Dad and Mom that we put all our future plans on hold.
We did not respond immediately, but searched the doctor’s face for further clarification.
Sensing we were still unaware of the intensity of the situation, the doctor continued,
“Now’s not the time to talk about his university plans.”
There was an awkward silence before Mom asked, why.
He did not give a direct reply but said instead,
“You have to take one day at a time from now on.”
Mom asked again, why.
“One day at a time for how long?” Dad intervened.
6 months, came the reply.
“6 months?” Mom echoed in disbelief.
“6 months?” Mom repeated.
“To live???”
That was absurd.
The doctor nodded quietly, then added,
"18 months, the most."
A cold shiver shot up Mom’s spine and she shivered at the finality of that line. Dad, decided he did not want to hear anymore, went back into the room.
Mom was not satisfied.
“What are we going to do now?” your mother pressed on.
Helping the maid to wash the car. :D
