it was 2.15am this morning when i heard a soft and weak groan (aiiiii-yaaaaaahhhhhh) coming from outside my bedroom. instinctively, i knew it was my dad again. rushed out of bed, open the door and true enough, i saw him naked and sprawled on the floor again, his body half in the toilet, half on the walkway. he was drenched as he had been bathing before this happened. and this time round, he was in a rather odd position of half-prone, half lying on his side and his face was on the floor. rather than move him, i quickly rushed to the kitchen to prepare a cup of milo for him. warm concentrated milo always work for him when he goes into a state of hypoglycaemia (low blood sugar).
shouted for bee bee to help. when i returned, i realized that he wasn't groaning (which was typical sign of hypoglycaemia) and that made me worried. in fact, he look more dead that alive. quickly, i had to make sure he was alive. i slapped his thighs. luckily, he responded, weakly. i then dragged him out of the toilet, put on his spectacles for him and tried my best to hoist him onto the chair. failed. he was simply too heavy. tried a second time. again, barely made it. almost twisted my back. by this time, my mum had woken up. she was not to happy that he had gotten up at such a ghostly hour to bath again and grumbled. anyway, i managed to finally drag him to his bed. he fell asleep almost immediately, but before he asked my mum to make him a cup of hot coffee.
it was close to 3am when we finally went back to bed. but i couldn't sleep as all sorts of scenario went through my head. what if he were to die in his sleep, what if he were to fall off his bed. with his condition, could my mum possibly cope if it were to happen when i was at work, should i send him to the old folks home, should i send him to the hospital... all sorts of questions. i have no answers. and it was a long time before i finally slept.
went to work this morning. terribly sleepy. exhausted. and it was a superbly long work day. in the evening, i called my mum and according to her, my dad had no recollection whatsoever of the fall, the dragging him to bed...
sighs...
shouted for bee bee to help. when i returned, i realized that he wasn't groaning (which was typical sign of hypoglycaemia) and that made me worried. in fact, he look more dead that alive. quickly, i had to make sure he was alive. i slapped his thighs. luckily, he responded, weakly. i then dragged him out of the toilet, put on his spectacles for him and tried my best to hoist him onto the chair. failed. he was simply too heavy. tried a second time. again, barely made it. almost twisted my back. by this time, my mum had woken up. she was not to happy that he had gotten up at such a ghostly hour to bath again and grumbled. anyway, i managed to finally drag him to his bed. he fell asleep almost immediately, but before he asked my mum to make him a cup of hot coffee.
it was close to 3am when we finally went back to bed. but i couldn't sleep as all sorts of scenario went through my head. what if he were to die in his sleep, what if he were to fall off his bed. with his condition, could my mum possibly cope if it were to happen when i was at work, should i send him to the old folks home, should i send him to the hospital... all sorts of questions. i have no answers. and it was a long time before i finally slept.
went to work this morning. terribly sleepy. exhausted. and it was a superbly long work day. in the evening, i called my mum and according to her, my dad had no recollection whatsoever of the fall, the dragging him to bed...
sighs...
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