Since I left Egypt...

... nearly a month ago, life has not been very blog-worthy. It has bordered between dull and depressing, really. Depressing because since I landed in Singapore, my whole family and I have been absorbed in caring for my uncle, who is suffering from brain cancer. Over the last month or so, we have watched as this tiger of a man has slowly deteriorated, in health, speech, movement and mental energy. His diagnosis came very late, and the cancer was caught only in January, in its last stages. Chemo seems pointless at this stage, besides offering unnecessary suffering. So we sit with him everyday. We feed him, we talk to him, massage his legs, his arms...

His rapid deterioration, especially post-surgery, came as a shock, most of all to him, I think. He's very depressed, especially because of his speech impairment, frustrated when we don't always understand what he is trying to say. Everyday the house is filled with people as if it's Eid. 3 times a day we help him walk from his bed to the dining table to the living room. Because of the brain surgery performed on his left brain, his right side has become paralysed, and he needs help walking. 2 of us prop him up from under his shoulders, and another person holds his back, encircling his stomach, while a fourth person squats behind him as he walks, pushing his right foot ahead to align it with the left foot.

And yesterday, something happened, which I finally thought was something I had to write about.

We got my uncle out of bed, wanting to take him to the dining table for dinner. We prop him up as usual, me and Katrina, my cousin, under his arms, and as we neared the door, suddenly my uncle takes a deep breath, and in his loud gruff voice, starts counting his steps, "Chalo! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE!...".....as this was happening, me and Kat suddenly realised Mama wasn't being pushed by anyone, he was taking these steps himself, hardly even placing any weight on the two of us. Behind us, my mum and aunts, realising what he was doing, started cheering him on. It was a delightful din. Everyone cheering and clapping, his loud voice counting his way out, and quietly under his arms, me and Kat bawling like babies, overcome with emotion. We made it to the living room in 10 STEPS. It was a record blessed in heaven. It was just so morally uplifting to see this burst of energy and determination in him, especially since it seemed he had given up on himself. This event was later relayed to everyone we knew, all over Bangladesh, and all over the world.

Anyway, I also celebrated my 23rd birthday the day before. It was the first time for me to celebrate it here in Dhaka with my family. We never actually come to Bangladesh in February, its always either Christmas or in the summer. So we did the usual family birthday 'do' (albeit a little more low-key this time) a 'surprise party' which the birthday girl/guy knows about from before, and usually has to organise him/herself :P Nevertheless, the highlight of the day for me was blowing out my candles with Mama - he took care of half, and I took care of the other half. I felt honoured at having been able to share that with him.