[…] we are all susceptible to a formidable array of decision biases.  There are more of them than we realize, and they come to visit us more often than we like to admit.
~ Dan Ariely, The Upside of Irrationality

This update devolves into a lengthy one with too may quotes and our little daily routines.  Perhaps because I desire to capture details for myself to reminisce someday, as the days past quickly.

The few days up to biopsy went well.  In the afternoon warmth of Tuesday, as she lay down for a nap, she said she’d like to go to work again the next day for the morning.  I was surprised.  It makes her feel good, she says.  Dinner was quinoa and lentils accompanied by chicken and veg.  Seasoned however, with the Singaporean Primataste chicken rice seasonings that KP had brought over the previous week.

Annie is having a good laugh at my beat down by the elder ajummas of the neighborhood.  The stereotyped phrase here is along the lines of “don’t mess with the ajummas”.  While buying groceries at the cozy co-op across the street, some of them will get impatient when I choose to politely wait my turn.  Typically, the one behind me would get upset if I wait for the one ahead of me to complete her task, be it selecting some item or at checkout.  The verbal mutterings happen first, then the shove to tell me to be more aggressive.  They have innovative methods to cut in front of you too.  The whack I got from a grocery bag? Another story.  It didn’t help the ego that two of them also out-swam me at the pool this week too.  Admittedly, I cockily perceived myself a better swimmer upon encountering two older, pudgier ajummas in the lap lane.  After 15 laps at a blistering pace, with them gracefully switching between styles, I removed myself from the rotation, gasping for air.  Don’t mess with the ajummas.  And of course, a reminder not to judge by appearances.  Appropriately, Annie Zootopia for us to watch over dinner.

Wednesday was restful after her morning at the office.  We simply prepped for biopsy day.  There was a possibility for needing to go inpatient, plus incoming visitors.  So a “go bag” of sorts was packed, in case of an overnight; and a detailed clean up the apartment instead of waiting for the weekend.

We awoke on Thursday to cooler temperatures.  Well, a high of only 32C (90F) today. After three weeks of up to 37C (98F) days, 32C plus a slight breeze feels much better.

My sis, M, had taken the red eye out of Singapore and would be accompanying us to the hospital as well.  She managed to find her way to the apartment in time and we were off.

The check-in nurse (a particular one we encounter often) at the international health services at the hospital has not given me a very positive impression.  Annie, the kinder one of us, tells me it’s just because of the expressionless face and lack of eye contact.  Her instructions to us this time though, simply gave me an excuse to confirm my notions that she is utterly spaced out most of time.  We were there for a CT guided biopsy.  More interested in getting back to her cell phone, she muttered, “Go to […] and get a CT scan, and then go to floor 1 for your biopsy.”  Huh?  “We’re here for a CT guided biopsy, not two separate things.”  She grew testy with me and replied, “Go get CT, then go get biopsy.”  Really?  Nurse?  Well, I probably proceeded to let whatever sub-surface stress in me take over, “You are so wrong.”  I bypassed her and went straight to the desk where Annie’s liaison nurse at the IHS sat, who is much more clued in.  We got the correct directions for the correct place to go, and off we went.  I need to be more zen.

As mid afternoon came around, someone with a petite frame, already wearing a surgical mask beckoned us into a side office.  She proceeded to review a consent form with Annie.  Since we could not read Korean just yet, neither one of us could tell her role from her coat. With only the ability to see her face from eyes up, we (including my sis) had only one mistaken impression, “very early 20s”.  No insult meant to medical interns, but an intern is going to poke into my wife’s spine?  I worried briefly.  Perceptions again.  Her eyes however, reflected an intelligent alertness as she answered questions and explained how she would attempt to biopsy from the ilium (hip) bone.  And only failing which, she would go for a non-radiated spot in the spine.  With that, it was a certainty that she was the one doing the operation!  After signing the consent, the doc headed into the CT room, followed by Annie.  My sis and I learnt that roles were on the staff coats, and we needn’t worry about our earlier misplaced perception, she was one of the lead docs in the department.  About 40 minutes later, it was done.  Successfully from the ilium.  To quote Annie, the doc said to her, “I targeted well, so we are done.”

After an hour of lying down for observation, in a room with kids’ cartoons on the wall, and she was good to leave.  We headed home, with instructions to return to the ER only if there was bleeding.  We seem to be making a habit of being the late ones here at the hospital.

Sitting down in the cab was novel to watch, given that the butt/hip was sore.  She was in good spirits when we returned to the neighborhood.  Good enough to have street food.  The corner tteokbokki 떡볶이 lady had reopened last night after a long vacation, to eager lines of her regular customers.  It was time for us to understand her popularity, so we learned the ordering process, and had crispy fried tempura, tteokbokki, and fish cake.  With 4 people sharing the snacks, it came to less than $2 each!  Satisfied, Annie lay down to rest upon returning home.  Sis and I went grocery shopping for dinner.  Anyways, more on the neighborhood, food and weekend’s visits in another post.

Annie awoke without too much soreness the next day and felt good enough to walk to brunch with sis.  It was cloudy and the air felt like an AC room.  27C (80F).  Not exactly AC, but hey, a nearly 20F drop from the week’s highs!  As Annie rested in the afternoon, sis and I went to a café that Annie and I both like, at the corner of the complex.  Sis’ mom-in-law had gone through late state stage cancer as well.  The conversations centered upon my beloved, and it was a chance for me to provide sis with a clearer picture of the situation.  And about the decision paths that lay ahead.  As the coffee mugs emptied, she asked, “And you? Are you okay?”  I looked sideways at her briefly, wondering if her eyes were more moist than usual.  I acknowledged that there will come a time I will call upon for help, but leave emotional vulnerability for another time.

In order to maintain the energy we need to caregive, we unhook ourselves from our lives and plug into the person who needs our time and attention.
~ Brené Brown. I thought it was just me (but it isn’t).

We’re really grateful for the help we’ve been getting on the most mundane tasks. Things as simple as mail. It frees us time to attend to matters at hand.

Navigating a residential neighborhood isn’t the easiest, so we’re also happy to see the self sufficient friends and family who’ve chosen to visit.  All seasoned travelers thus far.  And all have encountered the “fun” navigation and transportation hiccups that lurk.  A friend from Hong Kong, S, stayed in Seoul for the weekend.  So all of us went to COEX for lunch, followed by organic soft serve ice cream.  Again, I shall leave the indulgence for another post.  While Annie had her nap that afternoon, S accompanied me to run errands at Emart, the local version of Target.

That evening, while checking her biopsy dressing, it appeared that she was having some contact dermatitis to the adhesive.  Small blisters on the edges of the dressing.  Yikes.  The convenience of this city proves itself again.  At 9:30pm, I walked to the pharmacy, and got new dressing.  Along with the Durapore I had in my climbing pack, we changed dressings.

There had been some challenges with bowel movement.  But after a breakfast of yogurt and fresh figs, plus coffee with milk, she happily left the breakfast table.  And came back to gleefully announce, “it was a big success”.   Simple pleasures of the cancer life.

She had some pain on Monday.  So we stayed home and she felt more comfortable lying down.  Little events like this remind me that this shall be a process of constant adaptation.

Feeling better in the evening, we took a pre-dinner walk to a path not far from our apartment.  Something we’ve wanted to do since moving into the apartment.  On the map, the path meanders along a river, to a bigger river, and finally connects to the bigger path along the Han River.  It has multi-tiered paths and there were lots of walkers/runners given the cooler weather.  We did not walk far on the path, and returned shortly; but it was good to see her out and about.

If it is so easy to feel relatively cooler when temperatures drop slightly from a very hot level, how easily do we relatively perceive a persons health?  She seems much better.  But I realize it would be a challenge for her to sit down on the floor and get up.  Wouldn’t that be basic mobility?  What if she took a fall?

It’s evening.  Her breathing tells me she’s now soundly asleep.  In the dim light, I take a peek.  I may be biased, but I think she’s beautiful.

The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths.  These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.
~ Elisabeth Kübler-Ross