Notes

I skipped my hospital visit today to rest. Living with my 80-something father is mentally exhausting due to our massive generational gap—from his refusal to use modern tech to his strange obsession with putting tile carpets everywhere, even in the bathroom!

A visit to the hospital showed small signs of spontaneous breathing for my mother. Meanwhile, a missing bank card was finally found after a hilarious misunderstanding, bringing a huge sense of relief.

A personal reflection on caring for aging parents with dementia, managing family tensions, and finding moments of quiet strength and unexpected humor amidst emotional caregiving challenges.

Visiting the hospital daily, we face a critical choice regarding my mother's ventilator. Balancing her previous wishes about life-prolonging care with medical realities brings a heavy emotional burden, but I must keep moving forward for my family.

Juggling hospital visits, caring for my elderly father, picking up my child, and running a household—some days, I forget to eat, and caring for myself comes last. Looking back on one of the hardest days of my life, I wondered: where will I be on this exact day next year?

It has been three days since my mother lost consciousness due to a brain hemorrhage. As normal hospital operations resumed after the long weekend, I completed her admission procedures and spent the day adjusting to new family routines while caring for my 89-year-old father.

Exhausted from a lack of sleep, I spent a busy day coordinating care, welcoming my aunts, and visiting my mother in the hospital. Later, my young granddaughters brought some light and warmth to my newly solitary father with a game of cards.

Reflecting on a sleepless night and the deep connection between mind and body after seeing my mother connected to a ventilator in the hospital. Confronted with the cruelty of brain diseases, I realize the vital importance of daily health.

A sudden emergency next door. My mother collapsed from a massive brain hemorrhage, and the doctor told us her consciousness would never return.

Yesterday, I accompanied my 80-year-old mother for a brain MRI scan and realized just how much she has aged. From struggles at the reception desk to the dentist's office dilemma, she seems trapped in a tough cycle. Seeing my parents like this makes me realize more than ever: I want to stay sharp and independent for as long as I’m alive.