Despite the brashness of my previous post, I make no apologies regarding the anger I vented.

I’m glad to be attending classes again, though the semester break was rather short although it was 2  whole months. It was gone just like that. However, I’m pleased with my performance, knowing that I could do better which I vowed to starting this semester. Also noticing that the system is entirely different to the one I was familiar with.

Already in the third week of the semester, the intensity compared to the previous semester is times two. Not only having spent more than RM100 just for photocopying readings, I also felt the need for discipline and motivation to juggle everything that has been going on.

I returned home from class earlier, and while I was doing my usual routines on my laptop, my dad came in and sat next to me. The first thing he asked me was, how was I coping with my studies since he saw me religiously drilling on my readings every night before I sleep.

I said, I’m fine doing pretty okay although the amount of readings that’s thrown at me is staggering.  He asked my mum to give me a RM100 so that I would not have to fork out my own money. He then asked, how much is my fees per semester. I answered, about six thousand. Then he continued to reply with, my medical bills would have cost me a bomb as my chemotherapy costs five thousand per session, but since I am under the study program, we have money to spare. All my medicine, CT scans is all paid for.

The first thing in my mind was, the feeling of guilt for spending the money of my ill father as he is using his own money to foot for his illness. I admit, all of my life I have been dependent on my parents for money and although we are not wealthy, I was very well provided for. And as I grew, I began to see things in a simpler way; that my brash for that Coach bag or the itch for that cute dress is gone. I don’t see clothes, bags and shoes as I used to anymore, to me it is just things on the surface.

My father continued to tell me, I have been doing some calculations that if anything should happen, we would have to sell the Ipoh house as I won’t have your mother living there alone by herself while you are in Penang. In that way, we would have quite a chunk of money for safekeeping. Then he asked me how many semesters left for me to graduate. I replied with a two, and he calculated, two semesters equals twelve thousand, yea we have money to spare. I instantly started tearing up. Then he continued to say, I have never been frugal with you or your brother’s education. Whatever you guys wanted to pursue, I would gladly support.

To date, my parents have paid almost fourty thousand ringgit for my education, if I were to pursue my degree abroad, it will probably triple the amount. At least.

Seriously, as envy as I am towards my friends who are studying abroad, I’m happy to be stuck here in Penang with my family. I have a loud-outspoken-hardheaded mum, a softspoken-listener-cincai dad and two furry hairballs roaming in the house with me.

My dad continued to tell me about his views of how three of us responded to the occurrence of his illness. Which I will not disclose here for private reasons, after all I know people who reads my blog loves to telltale. But my dad and I know who’s good to us, who’s just plainly fake and who’s afraid that my dad would be asking them for money.

My mum has been a good kind soul ever since the debacle mentioned in the previous post, she is a lot calmer, and she listens to people before making judgments. Which is good, although she still does give everyone the occasional whiplash. And she learnt to see things from another view, which is good because she is sort of the person who believes everything revolves around her.

My dad on the other hand, have been well. There’s the usual side effects of chemo; loss of hair, muscle aches, poor resistance to cold temperatures but he never had a loss of appetite, getting his fixes of nasi kandar, laksa, and his daily dose of fishmeat. To date, he has gained three kilos. He is currently continuing his treatments, under another study program which is also free. If he were to pay for his treatments, by now he would’ve spent more than thirty thousand alone just for treatments, not inclusive of scans and overnighting at the hospital. Many thanks to Mount Miriam Cancer Hospital for being such a savior.

Although my dad is sick, many good things came from it. Friends have been showing extensive support, with cards, gifts, calls as well as coming up all the way to Penang with gifts to visit my dad. We get to lessen the family burden by selling off my old Charade to my Ipoh neighbour whereby I inherited the Kenari and I even earned a credit card, this personally for me, marks the independence and trust I gained from my parents. And I know I will not be spending aimlessly, I’m more of a cash person.

I know this has become a really personal blog, but I still will keep it public as who knows any readers out there could relate to whatever I’m experiencing. And if it wasn’t for my dad, I wouldn’t have written this post.

♥ Wendy