'Retta'

I met an old lady in the ward today. When we first started our chat, I told her I was asked to see her to have a quick history taking from her. She was very cooperative and welcoming to both Matt and I. She introduced herself as Retta for Margaret then said, 'It's alright, no worries, i'll try to help as much as I can since i won't be in here for long.'

As fast as Matt and I responded, we agreed with what she said and told her we felt happy for her that she could go home soon. and no, that came as an embarassing moment, as she went, 'i meant literally, i won't be in here for long, i only have a few more weeks left'.

That was a big shock to both of us, as we totally didn't expect we were going to talk to someone who's terminally ill and was receiving palliative care. and no, we weren't in the palliative ward, it was just a haematology ward, oh well, some of the patients could still be quite seriously ill.

Somehow when I know that i'm talking to someone who's going to leave this world in a few weeks time, I just don't know how to handle it. Things like 'how does she feel at this moment', 'what would everything be like seeing through her eyes when she knows she only have a few more weeks to go', 'how would death feel like to her', 'how should i handle this conversation'...etc etc, just keep flashing through my mind.

As she sat right in front of me, i can imagine she must have looked quite beautiful at her younger age. For someone her age, she definitely have a pair of big shining eyes not veyr common in her age group and a nice face shape with very refined features.

As we chatted on, she told us she used to be a musical performer together with her husband and both of them had been performing in many parts of the world. With the beaming smile on her face, she then went on telling us how they travelled around together, then decided to settle down for a family, had her son and daughter, then grandchildren, lived together till he died two years ago with kidney problem, and now she felt it's alright for her to go also. Throughout our conversation, unlike what i would have expected, there wasn't a single drop of tear in her eyes. Occasionally, there were some jokes sprinkled in about her younger days and we were laughing together. All i saw was just beautiful beautiful smile and clear laughters that showed how proud she was with her life. and certainly, no regrets.

I was quite overwhelmed. It's not as if she got diagnosed of her leukemia ages ago, it was just 2 months ago that she was told. and look how well she is coping with this, death just seems like another matter she is going to handle.

The most fasicinating part to me was that, like how much would it take for one to actually have that sense of achievement in them to say, I feel i have done all i want to and i don't feel regret leaving this place. Suddenly I felt inspired by this old lady. 40 or 50 years down the road, I want to look back and be able to say the same thing like her too.

When asked about if she feels worried with what is going to come and how does she feel at this point. Guess what she told me,

'I have faith with me darling, that's all i need'.

For one to face death in such a peaceful and calm way, it certainly takes a lot of courage.

Our conversation didn't last too long as there was a tutorial to attend. As we were leaving and saying thank you for her help, i tend to take a few more looks at her. It certainly feels strange when you know this is going to be the last time you see someone and soon they are not going to be in this world anymore. She was very kind and said in a cute way,

'i hope next time you see someone with the same disease, you will be reminded by Retta's case. Wish u guys all the best and HAPPY DOCTORING.'

hahaah, first time I heard a wishing line like that, but that was still very cute. When we left the room, i saw her picked up her story book and continued reading with some smile still lingering on her face. Can't believe someone who's dying can still be so positive, there really isn't much reasons for us, the young and fit, to frown.