Inspiring Her Father to Live On

By Foo Yee Ching (Althea Reese)

Chapter 1

Father Losing Consciousness

Singapore, August 2021

For approximately a fortnight, Tang Ruiyan kept a watchful eye on her father with apprehension. His gait had become unsteady, his steps uncertain as he moved around in his home, a five-room flat on the third floor of a block in Serangoon, the north east region of Singapore. It was as if the floor beneath him had subtly shifted, and he might lose his balance at any time. She discerned something was wrong, but she could not fathom what.  

“Papa, are you having trouble walking?” enquired Ruiyan, who bore some semblance of her father. They both have large contemplative eyes, a sharp nose, with a pinkish complexion, about 1.56 metres tall. 

“I don’t know why,” muttered Ruiyan’s bespectacled father, Tang Jin Meng, 70, baffled. “My legs feel weak… as though they’ve lost their strength. Maybe it’s just old age catching up.”

“You should consult a doctor,” Ruiyan urged, as unsettling apprehensions and fears stirred in her heart. 

Two weeks later, on the morning of September 5, 2021, Ruiyan found her father staggering about the house, his fingers brushing against the wall for balance and support. 

“My ears are ringing,” he murmured. “I might go see Dr Ong next week.”

Upon returning home after work that evening, Ruiyan felt a jolt of terror coursing down her spine. From the dark-brown main door, she saw her father in a dark blue t-shirt and black bermudas hunched over on his red chair at the grey computer table in the living room beside the main door, vomiting onto the parquet flooring. Light was glimmering through the glass of a wooden door frame with peach coloured curtains overlooking a garden. To the right of the glass wooden door frame, the warm white light from a lamp lit up the living room. Subsequently, he slumped in his chair, with some remnants of food still on his lips. His body was trembling, and his eyes were closing, his consciousness slipping away. 

Her mother rushed to gather kitchen towels and wet wipes from the kitchen with cream coloured kitchen cabinets, reddish granite vanity top, and squarish pink ceramic tiles, crouching down to clean the mess on the living room floor and his clothes, her movements frantic, her face pale. 

“Papa?” Ruiyan’s voice cracked. He briefly nodded as his eyes peered a little through his tired eyelids. 

His mobile phone and a blood pressure monitor were on the computer table.

“Papa, where is the blood pressure monitor?” quizzed Shiyan, Ruiyan’s younger sister, who had just returned home that evening for dinner, her voice laced with anxiety. Even though Shiyan is two years younger, she is taller, with a darker complexion, with large, contemplative eyes like their father, but with their mother’s flat nose. 

Their father kept touching and pointing at his mobile phone, ignoring the question. His fingers trembled. His eyes were unfocused. Their father’s movements shocked Ruiyan, Shiyan, and their mother. Their father was not lucid. 

“Papa, are you okay?” Ruiyan cried, panic rising in her throat. Shiyan and Ruiyan helped their father to the master bedroom. He could barely lift his feet.

Moments later, he vomited again. Shiyan and their mother cleaned the floor, moving around his petite and frail frame with quiet efficiency. 

“Ruiyan, your dinner is on the dining table,” Ruiyan's mother pointed out softly.

Ruiyan listlessly sat at the wooden dining table. She hardly had the appetite to partake in her dinner. Still, she mustered the will to gobble the rice, fish, and potatoes in tomato soup down, as she was adamant about preventing food wastage, cognisant that individuals in some developing countries grapple with malnutrition. Her instincts whispered that something was gravely wrong with her father. She had to nourish and fortify her body with energy as she mentally braced for what was to come. 

“I think we should bring Papa to the hospital,” Ruiyan proposed.

“But the COVID-19 pandemic is still raging on,” Shiyan hesitated. 

“Is it safe to go to the hospital?” asked Shiyan.

Ruiyan recounted that her former colleague, Cheryl Tee’s husband, is a doctor. Ruiyan messaged Cheryl on her phone.

Ruiyan: Hi, I recall you mentioned your husband is a doctor. I am wondering if I should bring my father to the hospital. He is vomiting, losing consciousness, not lucid, and barely able to walk. His hands are trembling. 

Cheryl: Let me check with ZM (her husband’s name is Zhi Ming)

A few minutes passed. Then the reply came. 

Cheryl: Your father’s symptoms suggest it could be a stroke. It is better to bring your father to the hospital. 

Ruiyan: Is it dangerous to bring him to the hospital amid the COVID-19 pandemic?

Cheryl: It’s safe. They have stringent protocols in place, safe distancing measures, and visitation limitations. Nurses and doctors don the full PPE. There is also thorough sanitisation.

Chapter 2

Rushing to the Accident & Emergency

Singapore, September 2021

Spurred by Cheryl’s cautionary message, the family sprang into action. They grabbed his National Registration Identity Card (NRIC), helped him change into a clean dark-blue shirt and black pants, and locked the home’s main door in a frenzy. They steadied his faltering steps as they helped him to the lift. Ruiyan pressed the lift button. Though their parents’ home was on the third floor, the wait for the lift seemed like an eternity as the lift was originally on a high floor. The lift finally reached their floor. They helped their father into the lift. 

Shiyan drove her car, a silver BMW from the car park to the base of the block where Ruiyan, her mother, and father waited. 

They strapped their father into the car’s back seat, as Ruiyan took a seat beside him. Their mother took the passenger seat beside Shiyan.  

At the entrance of Sengkang General Hospital’s Accident and Emergency (A&E) department, a staff member approached as Ruiyan opened the car door. 

“Does he require a wheelchair?” the staff queried.

“Yes. please. Thank you,” Ruiyan replied. 

“As it’s amid the COVID-19 pandemic, only one visitor can visit a patient for the next fortnight or until the day of the patient’s discharge,” the staff informed them.

Ruiyan pushed her father toward the A&E department while Shiyan parked the car. It was 10.50 pm.

She scanned her token for entry and completed a group sign-in for both herself and her father. 

He clutched a plastic bag in case he vomited again. Clad in his dark blue t-shirt, he was shivering. Concerned he might be cold, Ruiyan took one of her bags and gently laid it across his hands.

There were a few patients with their loved ones in the waiting area. Ruiyan wheeled her father to a lime-green seat. He leaned back, eyelids fluttering, consciousness fading.

As Ruiyan sat in the sterile fluorescent glow of the waiting room, watching her father drift in and out of consciousness, a wave of helplessness engulfed her.

He has been a doting father to Ruiyan and Shiyan. As the sole breadwinner of the family for close to two decades, he provided for their family financially. When they were babies and toddlers, he cradled them in his arms when they cried. He had always been their pillar, preparing breakfast as they rushed off to school, and teaching them how to ride the bicycle. 

As an ever-resourceful and caring father, he had assembled computers, purchased books, DVDs, voice recorders, cameras, and tablets. He even invested in a family car to chauffeur Ruiyan and Shiyan to the university and family gatherings. Besides purchasing groceries and newspapers from the supermarket for the family in the mornings, he also cooked on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sunday mornings. 

As Ruiyan reflected on these cherished memories, heartfelt appreciation for her father burgeoned in her heart. 

She was afraid she could lose him. Time slowed. The world tilted. It was heartbreaking to see how frail he was, as he barely clung on to the edges of awareness. Her father had often encouraged them to exercise. Her father's strength, once a mountain, now seemed to crumble like a sandcastle.

“Papa, I love you,” whispered Ruiyan, her voice trembling.

Tears streamed down her father’s eyes and trickled down his cheeks. 

“Think good thoughts. Think of good health. You will get through this,” Ruiyan murmured.

She went to the triage area with her father. 

“Hi, how can I help?” a short-haired, bespectacled doctor enquired in her soft and polite voice as she motioned them to take seats . The room was white-washed with daylight lights. The doctor’s gray table, with a computer placed diagonally on the table, was facing two blue chairs.

“My father has been struggling to walk for two weeks. This morning, he shared that he had a ringing in his ear. When I returned home tonight, he was vomiting, disoriented, not lucid, barely conscious. His hands were also shaking,” Ruiyan explained.

The doctor nodded and typed into the keyboard as Ruiyan spoke. 

“Alright. We will run some tests to identify the root cause. Please wait in the waiting area,” the doctor advised. 

“Thank you,” Ruiyan replied.

Without medical knowledge, expertise and experience, her father’s well-being was beyond Ruiyan’s control. She waited at the waiting area, a long corridor with warm white lighting emanating from the ceiling, rows of green and orange seats lining the entire corridor. 

Desperate, Ruiyan messaged a few monks, requesting help through prayers.

At around 2.30 am, a bespectacled doctor with a pale complexion emerged from the ward and stood in the waiting area. 

“Family of Tang Jin Meng?” he enquired, looking around. 

“Yes,” Ruiyan responded, standing quickly.

“We ran some tests. A medical institution had prescribed another high blood pressure medicine, Indapamide, to your father a month ago. That medication caused his sodium levels to plummet to precarious levels. We will put him in the High Dependency Unit,” the doctor explained, attempting to maintain a calm tone. 

The words struck like thunder. Her hands trembled.

The words struck like thunder. Her hands trembled. Ruiyan knew her father’s condition was critical. Ruiyan called Shiyan on the phone.

“Hi Shiyan, Papa’s sodium levels plunged because of the medication Indapamide prescribed by the medical institution. They’re transferring him to the High Dependency Unit,” disclosed Ruiyan amid tears, her voice cracking with each word 

“Oh dear,” Shiyan gasped. “Should we go home first?”

“Yes, go home with Mama. I’ll stay here,” declared Ruiyan.

She barely noticed the glances from others waiting for their loved ones nearby. Her focus was only on her father.

Ruiyan wanted to be close to her father. She sat outside the room where he now lay. 

She prayed fervently. In a soft whispering voice, she chanted White Tara’s mantra for health and longevity, “Om Tare Tuttare Ture Mama Ayur Jnana Punye Pushtim Kuru Soha”. 

Ruiyan followed it with Avalokiteshvara’s mantra “Om Mani Padme Hum”.

Staring at a warm, white light on the ceiling in the waiting area, she envisioned a golden light streaming down 300 metres from above—shimmering, luminous, healing—suffusing her father with a golden glittery light of inner strength, energy, healing, full recovery, and good health. She repeated that visualisation several times, reciting “inner strength, energy, healing, full recovery, and good health.”

Chapter 3

Taking a Break

By 6.30 am, the waiting area had emptied. Only a handful of family members remained. A bespectacled doctor, with her hair tied in a neat bun, approached Ruiyan.

“Would you like to go home to rest for a while? He is still awaiting a bed in the High Dependency Unit. You won’t be able to visit your father till 10 am as the visitation hours are from 10 am to 2 pm,” she suggested.

“Yes,” Ruiyan muttered, rising slowly. “I’ll head off soon.”

She stepped into a taxi at the taxi waiting area and returned home in 20 minutes under a faintly grey sky. The world was waking. She felt like she hadn’t slept in a lifetime.

Once home, she showered and towel-dried her hair. The scent of hot Milo greeted her.

“Drink something,” her mother urged, placing the warm cup in her hands. 

“Shiyan had driven home after she drove me back. She needs to work in the morning tomorrow. When can we see Papa?”

“Visiting hours begin at 10 am. But I’ll call the hospital to check if there are any restrictions for visitors to the ward amid COVID-19. I also need to message my boss for permission to take urgent leave today,” asserted Ruiyan.

“Yes, it is better that you notify your boss to inform her you are taking urgent leave from work today. You didn’t sleep all night,” her mother noted. 

Ruiyan messaged her boss. 

“Get some rest,” her mother urged. “You shouldn’t have stayed waiting there with all the COVID cases.”

She drifted off to her slumber on her bed at 7 am. 

Ruiyan awoke at 10 am. She checked her phone. She received a message at 8.30 am, informing her of her father’s bed and ward number at the High Dependency Unit. 

She called the hospital.

“Hi, I would like to check on the visitation regulations,” stated Ruiyan.

“Only one person from each family can visit a patient from now till 23 September. The person has to take an ART test before entering the ward,” explained the receptionist.

“Thank you,” muttered Ruiyan as she put down the phone. 

“Only one person can visit a family member once from now till 23 September,” asserted Ruiyan.

“You visit Papa,” Shiyan urged softly, cognisant that Ruiyan was closer to their father, while Shiyan herself was closer to their mother. 

Chapter 4

Taking on the Role of Her Father’s Cheerleader

With only a single opportunity to visit her father during his hospital stay-just one precious visit permitted across a fortnight, Ruiyan knew this moment had to count. She seized the opportunity to make her pitch standing by his bedside, to become her father’s cheerleader, and motivate him to think positively, bringing him light amid the hovering, dark clouds.

Her bedroom had long windows extending to her waist with white panels, peach coloured curtains, the window overlooked some trees. Beside the window was a white chest of drawers with a lamp. Adjacent to the white chest of drawers was her white bed, with lilac-coloured bedsheet placed parallel to the window. Some paintings were on the white wall above the bed’s headboard.  

Ruiyan spent 20 minutes crafting her message to her father in her bedroom. Ruiyan etched the message, a tapestry of hope and healing, into her memory like a sacred vow.

Following a quiet late brunch, Shiyan, who had reported to work in the morning, drove their mother and Ruiyan to Sengkang General Hospital. At the entrance, Ruiyan underwent an ART test and waited for fifteen tense minutes, watching the timer count down like a silent prayer. The result was negative, fortunately.

Subsequently, she took the lift to the third floor. On the way to the High Dependency Unit, she navigated through a maze of corridors with motivational quotes adorned on the walls to uplift the spirits of patients and their loved ones. 

Her father was resting on the bed behind two glass doors, beneath the clinical glow.  A nurse sat behind the first glass door. Ruiyan held her breath as she stepped through the second glass door. Her father was sound asleep in a room with blue walls. A tangle of tubes interwove across his fragile form, anchoring him to machines that hummed and blinked with quiet vigilance. It was heart-wrenching for Ruiyan to witness her father in this state. He looked so frail. It was a stark contrast for Ruiyan as her father used to be so active, taking walks to the supermarkets and returning with bags of fresh produce in the morning. Now he appeared like a faded portrait of himself.

But she did not let the tears rise. Not today. Ruiyan reminded herself to think positively and not dwell on her father’s current medical condition. As his cheerleader, she should not display a tinge of sadness. She was here to inspire, not despair. Ruiyan stepped into the room with quiet resolve. She smiled—not because she mustered the courage, but because he needed her to be so. Ruiyan recited what she wrote in the note to her father, which she had taken pains to memorise.

“Papa, I am here to visit you,” Ruiyan expressed gently. 

“From now till 23 September, the hospital only permits one person to visit you, only one visit. They won’t allow any more visits because of the COVID-19 pandemic. Mama and Shiyan are waiting downstairs,” explained Ruiyan. 

As if her words had stirred something within, her father slowly attempted to sit upright. His movement was effortful, yet purposeful. He smiled as he saw Ruiyan.

With a deep inhalation of her breath, Ruiyan continued with the speech she had memorised and practised like a prayer. Her tone was bright yet steady, her spirit unwavering.

“Papa, don’t give up. Keep visualising the light of inner strength, energy, healing, full recovery, and good health coming down on you. The Law of Attraction states that your thoughts, good or bad, will become self-fulfilling prophecies. Keep your thoughts positive. Share a quote my friend shared with me in my darkest moments. ‘Struggles and challenges are part and parcel of life. If you continue to overcome them, you will win over yourself. The rewards are boundless.’ We are all praying and chanting for you. You must be strong. Believe in your ability to recover fully. We will be your loyal fans cheering you on from the sidelines. We can’t wait for you to return home soon!” encouraged Ruiyan.

To further uplift his spirits, Ruiyan leaned in, with her steady voice, and shared Morris Goodman’s story, extracted from ‘The Secret’ by Rhonda Byrne.

“I would like to share with you Morris Goodman’s story. After he crashed a plane, he was paralysed and hooked to a respirator. All he could do was blink his eyes. The doctors declared that he would be a vegetable for life,” shared Ruiyan.

“But he did not believe it. He set a goal for himself. His goal was to walk out of the hospital by himself by Christmas. He firmly believed he could attain his goal. He achieved his goal and walked out of the hospital by himself before Christmas,” explained Ruiyan.

“You can do it too. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. Don’t let your mind tell you otherwise. You will regain your strength and good health. You will walk independently again. Keep visualising the light of inner strength, energy, healing, full recovery, and good health coming down on you, several times a day. You can do it. We love you and look forward to your return to our home,” affirmed Ruiyan. 

As she spoke, the nurse, Shanise Ong, stood quietly nearby. 

Ruiyan discerned tears glistening in her father’s eyes. 

“You can do it too. Make it your goal to walk by yourself,” Ruiyan encouraged gently.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice laced with resolve. “I will make it my goal to walk by myself by my birthday.”

Her father’s birthday would be in early October. 

Ruiyan felt something inside her blossom—a glimmer of hope.

Before leaving, she spoke to the nurse, Shanise.

“I hope you can motivate my father to think positively, just like Morris Goodman. He achieved his goal of walking again,” Ruiyan encouraged. 

“Of course,” Shanise replied kindly. 

“But he cannot proceed to the toilet by himself as he is in the High Dependency Unit. For his safety, he needs to stay in bed,” Shanise asserted.

Ruiyan nodded, listening. 

She turned to her father once more. 

“Papa, I want to let you know. In this High Dependency ward, you are not permitted to get out of the bed and go to the toilet for your safety. Press the call button, and the nurses will assist you. They’ll take good care of you,” Ruiyan pointed out. 

A phone call from Shiyan interrupted the moment.

“Mama is getting hungry. What time are you coming down?”

“Sure, I will wrap it up here,” Ruiyan uttered.

“Papa, we need to go for lunch as Mama is hungry. Although none of us can physically visit you for the next two weeks, we will call you on your phone or do a video call with you. Remember, don’t give up. Set your goal to walk before your birthday. Commit to it. Work towards it. Keep visualising the light of inner strength, energy, healing, full recovery, and good health coming down on you, several times a day. Bye-bye, Papa,” asserted Ruiyan.

“Bye-bye,” muttered her father in a weak voice. 

Ruiyan looked at her father, his hand resting quietly over the blanket. Then she turned and walked out of the ward.

Following the visit, Shiyan, Ruiyan, and their mother proceeded to their respective homes. Ruiyan stays with her parents while Shiyan lives alone.

Every day and night, she fervently prayed and visualised. She also visualised the golden light of inner strength, energy, healing, full recovery and good health flowing into her father, igniting healing in every cell.

A family sticks together, through good times and bad. Her mother did her part too. There is nothing else they could do now except to pray for divine intervention, that the medical team would lend their healing hands to restore their father’s physical well-being and good health. Her mother prayed for her father at the Kuan Im Tng temple along Balestier Road. It was a stressful period for Ruiyan’s family, as they navigated hospital visits, prayers at the temples. Ruiyan encouraged her mother not to over-exert herself, or she may fall ill too. 

Chapter 5

The Healing Continues

As she could not visit her father till 23 September 2021 or till her father’s discharge, Ruiyan enlisted the help of a nurse at Sengkang General Hospital.

Her father was unfamiliar with the new phone Shiyan and Ruiyan had recently purchased for him. Thankfully, the nurse graciously facilitated a video call when her schedule permitted on 8 September. 

The call was made one morning before Ruiyan headed to the office.

During the video call, Ruiyan waved animatedly to her father through the phone, with her mother beside her.

“Papa, how are you doing?” Ruiyan enquired.

“I am better. Don’t worry. But you look exhausted,” pointed out Ruiyan’s father, wiping tears trickling down from his eyes.

He noticed Ruiyan had not slept well for days when he was in the hospital. 

“She kept chanting at night, that was why she couldn’t sleep,” Ruiyan’s mother explained. 

“You must sleep and have a good rest at night. Otherwise, how do you focus on work? You need strength to work,” Ruiyan’s father underscored gently. 

“Okay, I will sleep at night,” Ruiyan assured.

“What did you have for breakfast?” quizzed Ruiyan’s mother.

“I had some porridge,” declared Ruiyan’s father. 

“I think you'd better go to work. It is late. Bye-bye,” suggested Ruiyan’s father.

“Bye-bye, Papa!” Ruiyan replied.

Ruiyan thanked the nurse for the video call. 

“Thank you so much, we appreciate it!” chirped Ruiyan. 

Ruiyan continued praying and visualising the light of inner strength, energy, healing, full recovery and good health shining upon her father several times daily. 

Chapter 6

Father’s Condition Improving, Yet Something Felt Off

On 9 September, Ruiyan received a message informing her that her father had shifted from the High Dependency Unit to the general C-class ward as his condition improved. It seemed like progress.

Shiyan returned to their parents’ place one evening. After dinner, the family gathered to call their father on the phone at 8 pm. Ruiyan placed the phone on speaker so they could all hear.

“Papa, how are you doing?” chirped Ruiyan. 

“I’m better,” Ruiyan’s father whispered. “I’ve shifted to the general ward.”

“What did you eat for dinner?” Ruiyan’s mother queried.

“Some rice, some fish, and vegetables,” Ruiyan’s father replied faintly.

Something in his voice felt listless, a hint that something was off. His father’s voice felt weak and drained, signalling a lack of energy. Ruiyan could not fathom the rationale for this. He should feel more energetic now that he has left the high dependency ward. Why did he sound more lethargic? Ruiyan was rather concerned about this. 

Suddenly, they heard someone bawling in the background. 

“Did you sleep well, Papa?” quizzed Shiyan. 

“Not really. I am rather tired. Maybe we can talk another day,” murmured Ruiyan’s father. 

“Okie, papa, have a good rest, bye-bye!” Ruiyan and Shiyan chimed. 

“Bye,” replied Ruiyan’s father.

Ruiyan, Shiyan and their mother discussed this phone call with concern after they put down the phone. 

“Something is off. They transferred Papa to the general ward because his condition is improving. Yet, his voice seems so weak. He seems more lethargic, as if he lacks energy when he speaks. He seems weaker than yesterday. Don’t you think this is strange?” opined Ruiyan. 

“We heard someone bellowing in the background. Do you think that could be the reason he could not get a good night’s sleep?” suggested Shiyan.

“Should we transfer him to a B2-class ward? It might be quieter,” pointed out Ruiyan’s mother.

Ruiyan nodded. “Yes, I think it will be a good idea. Let us do it tomorrow. I will apply for urgent dependent care leave from work and transfer him to the B2 ward tomorrow.”

The following day, Ruiyan and her mother returned to the hospital.

“We would like to transfer my father, Tang Jin Meng, from the C-Class ward to the B2 ward,” Ruiyan informed a receptionist.

“Certainly, the B2 ward will have six patients. The B2 ward will be more expensive than the C-Class ward. These are the charges for B2 ward. Please sign here if you agree,” explained the receptionist.

After reviewing the form, Ruiyan signed it.

“We will message you the ward number when we have transferred him to the new ward,” asserted the receptionist. 

“Thank you,” replied Ruiyan. 

At around 2 pm on 10 September, Ruiyan’s father transferred to the B2 ward, with six patients in it. 

After returning home from work that evening, Ruiyan and her mother called her father.

“How are you today, Papa? Do you like the new ward? Did you get some rest?” enquired Ruiyan.

“I am a lot better. It is a lot quieter now that there are only six patients in the ward,” shared Ruiyan’s father, his voice sounding stronger and more cheerful.

“That is good, we thought it would be better to transfer you to the B2 ward as we heard someone yelling in the background at the C-Class ward,” pointed out Ruiyan’s mother. 

“Yes, thank you, that might be better for me,” affirmed her father.

“What did you have for dinner?” quizzed Ruiyan, intrigued.

“I had rice, pork, and vegetables,” replied Ruiyan’s father.

“Do they provide you with any therapy?” Ruiyan’s mother queried.

“Yes, they do. After three days of not walking at the High Dependency ward, I am re-learning how to walk again. Every day, there is walking therapy. I will go for my walking therapy later,” Ruiyan’s father shared in an upbeat tone, which sounded more energetic.

“It is good you are walking. You are gradually on the road to recovery,” acknowledged Ruiyan’s mother.

“It is wonderful that you are engaging in walking therapy, Papa. That's remarkable progress. Keep going, Papa! You can do it! Remember, your goal is to walk before your birthday. Work towards your goal,” encouraged Ruiyan, rallying her father on.

“Yes, I will keep walking. I want to walk independently before my birthday. I am turning in now. Bye-bye,” asserted Ruiyan’s father.

“Bye-bye, Papa,” replied Ruiyan. 

Chapter 7

Bolstering Home Safety

After ending the phone call with her father, Ruiyan’s mother inquired, “Do you think we should install grab bars in the toilet for safety?”

“That is a good idea,” Ruiyan replied, switching on her computer. “Let me research on the Housing Development Board’s (HDB) website now.”

“The Enhancement for Active Seniors, or EASE programme, subsidises improvements made to flats to enhance mobility and safety. It is part of the Home Improvement Programme. However, if your block is not due for HIP—or if you prefer not to wait—you can apply directly under EASE (Direct Application),” Ruiyan recited aloud from HDB’s website so her mother could hear.

“I’ll apply for EASE (Direct Application) now,” pointed out Ruiyan. 

Small but significant steps were taken. Each click of the form felt like a step to amplify home safety for her father.

Though the vendor had scheduled the installation on 24 September, Ruiyan requested the installation to be expedited to an earlier date as she was mindful that the hospital might discharge her father earlier. The contractor responded with understanding. The vendor rescheduled the installation to 15 September.

Meanwhile, Shiyan also played her part. On 13 September, she placed an order on Taobao for a compact and practical stationary bicycle, which will enable their father to continue strengthening his legs from the comfort of home.

Chapter 8

The Long-Awaited Discharge

On 16 September, the doctor called Ruiyan and informed her. 

“Your father has improved, and we can discharge him soon,” asserted the doctor.

“Sure, we will bring him home tomorrow,” replied Ruiyan.

On 17 September, Shiyan took a half-day leave while Ruiyan took a day’s leave from work. Ruiyan accompanied her mother to the hospital’s pharmacy and business office to collect his medication and settle the bills. They purchased crutches for her father to facilitate his mobility. 

As Ruiyan wandered along the corridor to find the B2 ward her father was in, Ruiyan strolled past the C-Class ward her father was formerly in, several nights before. Intrigued, she peeked at the C-Class ward. Then she heard it all, something that confirmed her suspicions all along.

“Fxxxxxx bastard! Son of a bxxxx and cxxxxxxxx!!!” a man raged boisterously, hurling profanities about a woman’s genitals, his voice coarse with anger, punctuating the still air. 

“Please keep your volume down. It may disturb other patients,” urged the nurse with professionalism, composure, and a patient voice.

“Fxxxxxx bastard! Son of a bxxxx and cxxxxxxxx!!!” the obnoxious man repeated with a raucous bellow.

Ruiyan quietly stepped away. She had heard enough. Ruiyan understood then why her father sounded so fatigued and depleted that evening when he was on the phone despite having transferred to the general C-ward. How could anyone sleep with rage echoing through the night? It was the right decision to transfer her father to the B2 ward.

Ruiyan found her way to the B2 ward, where her father had spent the past few days of recovery.

“I am here to fetch my father home,” Ruiyan uttered softly to the nurse at the station, as she did not want to disturb the patients in the ward. 

“Your father is in the shower now. Please wait by the door of the ward,” the nurse replied with a kind smile.

“Sure, I will wait outside. Could I request a letter confirming his hospital stay? I need to submit it to my boss and the Human Resources department at my office,” enquired Ruiyan. 

“Sure, we will prepare the letter for you,” the nurse replied. 

Ruiyan waited quietly outside the B2 ward’s entrance, the warm-white lights shining from the ceiling and the muffled movements of the ward within.

Fifteen minutes passed. In the corridor, she caught sight of a young therapist, barely in his twenties, in a dark blue uniform with the words ‘NUS Yong Loo Lin School of Medicine’. He guided a man in his seventies down the corridor. The therapist’s arm hovered protectively near the man’s back as he gave slow, steady instructions.

“Left. Right. Left. Right,” the therapist encouraged patiently, his voice a gentle metronome.

The old man echoed each step, a mantra of movement: “Left… Right…Left… Right…”

Ruiyan’s eyes softened. It dawned on Ruiyan that this was the therapy her father had spoken of during his phone call—the deliberate retraining of the body to walk, one foot at a time.

A nurse reappeared with a folded letter in hand. 

“Your father is out of the shower. You may go to the ward. Here’s the letter you requested,” she declared.

“Thank you,” Ruiyan muttered, accepting the letter with both hands.

Ruiyan stepped into the ward. Six beds lined the B2 ward, each nestling a patient in their sixties or seventies in quiet repose. Soft beeping machines and the rustle of sheets filled the air. Ruiyan offered a small, respectful smile to each patient as she walked past. Her father’s bed, she knew instantly—it was the one by the window, where the light streamed in with hope.

“Papa, I am here to bring you home,” chirped Ruiyan, with an upbeat voice and a warm smile.

Her father adjusted his spectacles and nodded. 

“Good. Please help me gather my things,” he pointed out.

“Here’s your mobile phone, charger, and wallet. Your toothbrush and toothpaste. Your dentures and comb… This bag has your laundry,” Ruiyan noted, packing each item with care, as if tucking away the reminders of his hospital stay.

The nurse wheeled a wheelchair towards her father’s bed. 

“Papa, let us help you into a wheelchair,” encouraged Ruiyan, helping the nurse steady her father as he gently eased into the seat.

“I want to say goodbye to the patients in this ward,” he asserted. 

“Of course. I will wheel you closer to each bed,” Ruiyan replied. 

Her father raised a hand as he waved goodbye and smiled at each of his acquaintances. “I’ll be leaving the hospital today. Goodbye, take care. Hope you fully recover soon,” Ruiyan’s father encouraged with heartfelt sincerity.

With gracious farewells exchanged, Ruiyan wheeled her father out of the ward, down the corridor, and to the lift lobby. The lift door opened, and Ruiyan gently pushed her father into the lift. When the lift door opened on the first floor, the metallic doors closed behind them, as if sealing away a chapter of a nightmarish experience they wish to forget. 

Shiyan was already waiting for their father at the taxi stand, and her car pulled up with their mother in the passenger seat. Ruiyan left the wheelchair nearby, steadying her father as he rose with the aid of his crutches.

With tender care, she helped him into the car. Ruiyan pushed the wheelchair to a wheelchair collection point. The car door shut with a quiet click.

They were going home. Together. As a family, once more.

Ruiyan’s family appreciated the steadfast dedication, professionalism and compassion of Sengkang General Hospital’s medical team, comprising doctors, nurses, and therapists. The medical team had played an indispensable role in rescuing their beloved father from the brink of death and giving him a new lease of life. 

The doctors, nurses, and therapists are the silent heroes who safeguard the patients’ physical well-being while giving patients the inner strength to live on. The medical team also offers a glimmer of hope for their families that their loved ones will still be around. 

Chapter 9

Home Coming

Upon returning home on 17 September, Ruiyan spoke to her father.

“Papa, thank you for staying alive and returning home to us. Several people prayed for you, monks, relatives, and friends. Mama went to the temple. Our cousin even prayed to our ancestors,” shared Ruiyan.

“Thank you, please help me thank everyone for their concern and prayers,” urged her father.

Ruiyan messaged all the Venerables, Rinpoches, relatives and friends who prayed for her father. 

Ruiyan: Share with you a piece of good news. My father is back at home and on the road to full recovery. He is re-learning to walk. It is a miracle that he made it. Thank you so much for your kind prayers. We appreciate it.

Back home, Ruiyan’s father diligently practised walking again and again with the steady support of his crutches. He took slow, deliberate steps across the living room floor, from the computer table, the sofa, the TV console, the dining area, and back to the computer table. His breath measured, his focus unwavering. Each repetition was a testament to his resilience, each stride a hymn of fortitude. 

He walked with unwavering dedication, several times a day until walking became his second nature again.

With her father now safely back home, a weight that had shadowed Ruiyan’s days and nights finally lifted. She breathed a little deeper. Slept a little easier. The house no longer felt heavy with worry.

How true the adage rang now: Health is the greatest wealth. Without good health, one can’t enjoy the things one has in life, and material possessions are poor replacements. Without good health, one cannot think clearly.  

When illness strikes a loved one, the entire family grapples with an endless entourage of worry, fear, apprehension, exhaustion, and sorrow. Besides adjusting their priorities, and schedules to set aside time for frequent hospital visits, the family must also navigate their emotions; mentally and emotionally bracing for each hospital’s update, each lab result, each whispered conversation in corridors that pungent odour of antiseptic and hope. It is a stressful and nerve-wrecking time for any family to undergo. 

Ruiyan was grateful and relieved that the chapter is now behind her. That experience, fraught with sleepless nights, trembling prayers and visualisations, had finally drawn to a close.

Chapter 10

Fulfilling the Quiet Vow

On the morning of 25 September, Ruiyan watched as her father stood tall and took his first steps—unaided (without his crutches), steady, and whole.

“Papa, you’re walking independently! Without crutches! What a milestone!” cheered Ruiyan with unbridled joy, a radiant smile on her face, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Yes, I can!” Ruiyan’s father exclaimed, his voice upbeat with gratitude and a radiant smile. “I’m so relieved, and thankful!”

Their mother and Shiyan, standing nearby, beamed with quiet pride.

“Your recovery—from being critically ill to walking again—is nothing short of remarkable. This is a testament that prayers, visualisations, positive thinking, and an indomitable spirit can move mountains. You made a vow in the hospital to walk before your birthday in October. You kept it. Now, here you are, walking by 25 September. You have fulfilled your goal,” affirmed Ruiyan, with two thumbs up on her hands. 

“That bore testimony to the power of a mind filled with hope—a heart lit with purpose. You transformed a wish into a reality. That’s the quiet miracle of belief and prayers. Your tenacity, resilience and fortitude have paid off. Your recovery attests that when you set a goal to work towards, and fill your mind with positive thoughts, interweave it with prayers, and visualisations, there is a higher chance of it becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy,” asserted Ruiyan, her heart swelling with pride. 

Her father nodded, his eyes glimmering with optimism. “Yes. Positive thinking and visualisation truly work wonders,” he acknowledged.

The man who once lay silent in the High Dependency Unit now stood upright in his living room, no longer requiring the crutches that aided him through his darkest days. His journey was not just a recovery—it was akin to a new lease of life.

Ruiyan’s father fulfilled the vow he had whispered in the hospital—to walk again by his birthday. His miraculous recovery stood as a testament to the quiet power of belief. A self-fulfilling prophecy, prayers and visualisations born from the unwavering love of a family and the fortitude of a man who rose to the challenge. 

Having read about the healing benefits of nature, Ruiyan was keen to bring her father out for a walk in nature, at a garden below her block. 

“Papa, let us take a short walk in the garden below our block,” she encouraged her father.

Step by step, they reached the garden. She gently placed her hands over her father’s back to ensure his safety. 

“Take one step at a time. Slowly, do it at your own pace,” Ruiyan urged. 

Taking a stroll out in nature uplifts spirits. 

“Look at the sun peering through the trees, Papa. The sun’s rays bring warmth, hope, and cheer into our lives. The sturdy trees, plants, and flowers provide lush greenery, oxygen, and beautiful flowers, brightening our day,” Ruiyan affirmed. 

“Yes, indeed. It is a nice day to come out for a walk,” said her father. 

Chapter 11

Grateful Their Father is Back at Home

“We must spend more time together as a family,” urged Shiyan, her voice gentle with heartfelt earnestness. “It’s good you’re around to keep Papa and Mama company. I can only be home on Sundays. They may be retired, but they still carry a sense of purpose—to care for you.”

Ruiyan nodded, her heart full. “I know I’m blessed. I can’t complain. Ever since Papa regained his strength and could walk again, he’s returned to his routine—grocery shopping at dawn. He wakes at 4.30 am, leaves by 6:30 am, and returns home shortly after seven, arms heavy with groceries—fruit, eggs, newspapers, even bulky things like toilet rolls. By the time I wake up, everything is already done. Every morning, he boils eggs for us. After lunch or dinner, he slices fruit for the family.”

“Aren’t you ashamed?” Shiyan teased, a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re not a child anymore. Actually, you should be the one doing the shopping and cutting fruit—not them. They’ve earned their well-deserved rest.”

“I can’t get up as early as Papa, but I try to wake up by 7.30 am. On weekends, I offer to help. I always ask if they need anything before I head out, but they often say no. When I purchase some food back, Mama would scold me—it’s too sweet, too salty, too unhealthy,” Ruiyan disclosed with a chuckle. “It’s frustrating and unfulfilling sometimes. I go out with the best intentions but always return empty-handed or defeated.”

“Still, I’m just so thankful Papa is back. He’s an incredible father. He purchased books, dictionaries, DVDs, thumb drives, voice recorders, and a sound system for us… He even assembled our computers, bought us a bicycle, taught us how to cycle, and brought us swimming. Do you remember?” Ruiyan reminisced with a tinge of nostalgia. 

“Yes,” Shiyan recounted, her eyes distant as she reminisced about that memory. “We used to cycle at the park near our old house. That feels like aeons ago.”

“He’s still so committed. On Saturdays, he brings back black fried carrot cake for breakfast. He cooks porridge or delicious Maggi mee with yong tau foo for lunch and dinner. On Sundays, he buys pomegranates and grinds them into juice by hand, then picks up the newspapers. He is present, always. Thoughtful. Devoted. His love runs deep, even in the smallest gestures,” shared Ruiyan.

“We’re truly blessed to have him as our father,” affirmed Shiyan, her voice hushed with reverence.

“I agree!” Ruiyan replied.

Now that her father is back at home again, Ruiyan cherishes every meal she shares with her parents. She would show her parents photos from her phone and some social media posts by others. Her father’s eyes lit up. 

Chapter 12

Quiet Reflections

Ruiyan’s father’s brush with mortality served as a poignant reminder of the fragility of life. There is no greater gift than the gift of loved ones being alive, healthy, and well. Since then, both Shiyan and Ruiyan cherished their parents’ presence with deeper appreciation, vowing to spend more time with their parents—for days with familial bonding were finite and precious. Every conversation, every meal shared, every small laugh now feels like a blessing unwrapped. 

Ruiyan also hopes to  make the best of her time while she’s alive to make a positive difference in this world. 

The days feel fuller now, anchored in quiet companionship and the gentle routine of the family’s love. 

As the harrowing chapter drew to a close, the walls of their homes no longer echoed with apprehension. The crisis put the family through a crucible of fire, testing their resolve. Instead of buckling under the weight of the heart-wrenching doctor’s prognosis, Ruiyan’s family rose to the challenge, navigating their stumbling blocks and proving the mettle of the family’s unwavering love and fortitude, to stick together as they navigated the good and bad times, united as one family. 

It narrated the story of presence—of holding a trembling hand, of whispering belief into a faltering spirit, of showing up, again and again, when it mattered most. The story chronicled a daughter who refused to give up. Through fervent prayers, visualisations, and purpose, Ruiyan clung tenaciously to unwavering love and hope. She inspired her father to muster the inner strength, courage, and indomitable will to live on, while fulfilling his objective of walking again before his birthday. 

By inspiring her father to live on, Ruiyan did not just save her father’s life, but rekindled a legacy of love. The experience was a testament to resilience and the quiet power of familial devotion. It is a reminder that even in the face of mortality, the human spirit—when held by love—can find the will to heal, to strive, and to begin again, solidifying the ties that bind.

This story also pays tribute to all the healthcare workers, whose dedication, professionalism, and compassion give patients inner strength, and hope to the patient’s families. 

By Foo Yee Ching (Althea Reese)