Yvonne Foong: Fighting NF

We still have a cabinet with some of Aunt Ivy’s belongings at home. Aunt Ivy was my dad’s younger sister. One day last year, I searched through the cabinet and found a medical appointments card with Dr. Ng Wai Keong’s name. I recognized his name. Dr. Ng is a Neurosurgeon who sees patients at Sunway Medical Center. He treated Aunt Ivy at Subang Jaya Medical Center between 1999 to 2000.

For many years after her demise, I didn’t know what took Aunt Ivy’s life or why did her body deteriorate the way it did. Nobody spoke of the reason or what her doctors said. My parents did not know anything at that time but to go along with the flow.

All the missing pieces fell into place when I saw Dr. Ng’s name. There could only be one reason why someone whose cancer went into remission need to see a Neurosurgeon 10 years later – metastasis. They say Aunt Ivy had ‘nose cancer’ and now we know that she saw a Neurosurgeon before her death. It means her cancer cells spread to the brain. This was the last stage of cancer. It was terminal. We can know that cancer cells have metastasized to the brain by performing a simple MRI from several months to years before the patient dies. This means they probably knew that Aunt Ivy was going to die very earlier on. But why were my parents not informed so? I am sure that if someone explained to my parents about the imminent death, they would have made Aunt Ivy’s needs their priority and sacrifice their own needs too.

As far as I remember, somebody took control of Aunt Ivy’s finances the first time she was admitted to SJMC in 1999. Aunt Ivy was the person who sent me to ballet lessons and anything that I wanted to learn. While Aunt Ivy was in hospital, the person who took over her finances told me that all these must stop because Aunt Ivy was ill. I accepted it because I could see that Aunt Ivy wasn’t feeling well.

Soon, Aunt Ivy was discharged and sent home – the home that we still live in. She had always lived with us.

Aunt Ivy bought this house that we live in more than 10 years before my parents were married. When Dad suffered a brain hemorrhage and was in a coma for one month when I was 3 years old, Aunt Ivy mortgaged the house to pay his medical bills. Aunt Ivy cared a great deal about Dad. After his stroke, Dad became dependent and Aunty Ivy took care of his many needs. That includes my upbringing too.

Naturally, it was very hard on my parents when her cancer came back. To make things worse, nobody explained to them that Aunt Ivy’s cancer had entered the terminal stage and what they should prepare themselves for. Later, we did not even receive a copy of her death certificate.

Without a clue about what was going on, my parents were criticized and insulted. Naturally, my parents also reacted to these attacks with resentment and anger.

They really didn’t know anything. Even I didn’t know.

Aunt Ivy lived for another two years until her demise in mid-2001. Her wake and funeral was held over two short days at home before she was cremated. Right after she was cremated, an entourage of aunties packed themselves into Aunt Ivy’s bedroom and rummaged through her belongings claiming to be helping us clear her things. My dad was furious. He felt it was too much of these people to be discarding Aunt Ivy’s belongings on the day of her funeral.

That year was 2001. In 2005, we received a letter from a lawyer’s office. Someone sought to apply for joint-administration to the house that we live in. The house deed was still under Aunt Ivy’s name. Before the house can be sold, the name on the deed must be transferred to everyone who has a legal right to inherit the house. Not even a single name can be left out unless the party gives up his or her share in writing. The person who hired a lawyer to seek a joint-administration was not my dad. In fact, he is adamant to never move from this house and would rather die with it. Ironically, the appointed lawyer was Aunt Ivy’s friend.

That year was 2005. I had just lost my residual hearing and needed to start raising funds for surgery. The lawyer’s letter came as a threat to my family’s harmony at a time when I needed help most so I sought assistance from my friend Cordy who has a degree in law. Cordy sought the advise of her friends who are practicing lawyers. With their advice, Dad and I went to obtain a caviet over the house so that no one could touch it without my dad’s consent.

My parents maintained that someone has been trying to take advantage of us all these years. I took their words with a pinch of salt because I didn’t believe people could be so mean. I told myself that my parents were over-reacting.

But I also didn’t believe what people said about my parents. After I was diagnosed with NF in 2002, someone would call me up and speak ill of my mom. I knew enough to shut off my mind and not hear a word. Because Mom had warned me that nobody should insult your mother to you. Anyone who does that is malicious. That’s exactly what happened to her eldest brother who became resentful and abusive towards my maternal grandmother. I have witnessed his abuses and so I believed mom’s warnings were true.

My parents are not very educated so it is easy to mislead them. To frame someone, we only have to aggravate them before they say or do things out of anger to give you enough ammunition.

My parents were furious by what these people did when Aunt Ivy fell ill and the things they said out of anger were enough ammunition for some people to speak ill of them within the extended family.

As you can tell from my past, it will really mean a lot to my parents when I can be treated by my HEI surgeons who would go out of their way to help me. In America, everything requires due process. Every detail of my healthcare is documented in black and white.

I have also appointed Rockwills Trustees to manage my healthcare finances because of my past experiences.

I may not always agree with my parents and I can be unhappy with them too. But they are still my parents and I will do anything to protect them.

I thought that I will never know who was right or who was wrong, until I saw that card and realized that Aunt Ivy’s cancer became terminal while my parents were ill-informed.