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Silent Tears

Things didn’t stop there, in fact things became even horrible. Yes, I was happy that my Mum was home but her presence was still not the same as before. She didn’t like loud sound, she couldn’t cope with being around loads of people all at once let alone holding a conversation that was longer than 3 minutes. What happened to my Mum? The one who made all the jokes and knew what to say in every scenario. She was always sleeping and her mood was always down, always negative. For she fell, into depression. She didn’t want to even get out of her bed to spend time with us all in the living room let alone getting out of the house for a walk. Not only because she physically couldn’t but emotionally too. She knew she didn’t look the same, she didn’t feel the same, it was a shock to her more than anyone. But being the amazing person she is, she kept her head held high and smiled. Yes, she’d cry when no one was looking, even though I’d notice it. Seeing my Mum break down into tears, sobbing and sobbing as people would sympathise towards her and ask her if she was okay, was heart breaking. For she didn’t have to say anything when replying if she was okay, she let the silent tears do all the talking.

Yet she knew, that Allah gives His strongest soldiers the hardest battles. She overcame something so hard and threatening emotionally and physically, so surely Allah loves her so much that He guided her towards ease. She always remembered that, and whenever anyone said that she’d be okay she’d always nod her head and say ‘Yes, Allah cares for me’. And that, would make me smile. Even though my Mum went through so much, she didn’t lose hope and faith, and for me that was so beautiful to see. My Mum was always an inspiration to me, and for her to even try holding back the tears and keeping strong was enough for me to say I am so proud of my Mum and I will forever be grateful to Allah for her.

However, things didn’t stop there, in fact things became even horrible. For my Mum began having what you call pseudo seizures that would make her body shake and uncontrollable but in a way where she was still aware. Her face would slant to the left and she wouldn’t be able to communicate. It was a scary sight to see, repeatedly. And for these reasons she’d be in and out of hospital. For every pseudo seizure she’d have something worse would happen each time, shortness of breath etc. And for me as a daughter, for me to one minute be talking to her casually then the next be calling the ambulance explaining to them of what’s happening and to come quickly, was hard. My voice would always break when talking to the man or woman on the other line of the phone, they’d always re assure me and tell me that I’m being ‘really brave’ but I knew I wasn’t ready. No matter how much we tried, running from the hospital was a no go. For she’d always go back. When would this all stop? When can I stop seeing my Mum connected to wires laying in a hospital bed? When can she come home? These moments, these questions, were seen impossible to be answered correctly let alone positively, and that, was VERY hard to accept.



Back In Time for Eid

Eid Ul Adha was only just around the corner, and to be honest I wasn’t excited at all. I’ve always been one to celebrate Eid to the fullest, I LOVE Eid, absolutely love! But, sitting there beside my weak Mum laying on her hospital bed, all I REALLY wanted, was for her to come home.
Everyone was talking about what to wear and what to do, and in honest truth, it made me so angry. How could we think of celebrating Eid without my Mum? How could we even enjoy ourselves anyways? But I understood, I understood the fact that we had to carry on with our lives, we had to still make the kids’ summer a good one, show my Mum that there’s nothing to worry about back at home.
But hey! I think the doctors heard my complaints and did all that they could to get my Mum better, as she came home! I must admit, wasn’t the best, but spending time with my Mum and just having her home was the best. That’s all I wanted, the perfect Eid gift 🙂
Even then though, my Mum’s illness managed to get to me the slightest one way or another. I noticed the affects; if we were too loud she would go to the room because she had a headache, the kids were told off for running up and down the house because Mum was trying to fall asleep even though she’d been sleeping the whole day, just all these small things. What happened to MY Mum? What happened to the Mum that would run up and down the house making sure that everyone in the house was happy and well fed? Making sure that her wings aren’t burning in the oven? It was just all too much, and to be honest the more I realised, the more I understood, the more it hurt. This is what I, this is what we, as a family, had to adjust to. My new Mum.

mymum&me Photography


Good days with AYWA! There’s nothing much to say other than a big thank you to Aunty Halima and the AYWA team for letting me be apart of their photoshoots. This one was the first of the many I have been to, I actually really miss them a lot! In shaa Allah we meet again soon! Waqaas is an amazing designer and you have to check his work out! So, without further ado, here are a few pictures from the photoshoot! And once again, thank you very much to my Aunty Halima and the AYWA team x

This one is actually called Jameela! Named after my Mum 🙂And yes! This one is called Milly! Named after me! 

Blog Lifestyle mymum&me


I prefer to get the negatives out of the way and then talk about the positives only because it makes me happy to think that after every negative comes a positive. Which happened on the journey with my Mum and me even though it was hard to believe let alone think at the time. So this blog post, the next chapter of MyMumAndMe will be quite hard to write. But it’s okay, because things are better now, Alhamdulilah.

So, with my Mum in hospital and Aunt and Uncle Jay living with us there were many ups and downs. Laughter and tears. I mean, the house isn’t the same when my Mum’s in the shower, it was even worse with her away from home for 2 months. Don’t get me wrong, we got along fine. Especially with Aunty Halima doing her utmost best to make us happy. We are forever grateful ❤️. We had some difficulties but with the power of Whatsapp we got there in the end with the help of my Mum from the other side. After all, she is the expert!

But sometimes, everything just began to get overwhelming. I cried a lot. I got emotional a lot and I was always so nervous when I heard the phone ring. Was it the nurse from the hospital? Is Mum okay? What did they say? I would instantly think the worst because I was so scared. I don’t really know what I was scared of now thinking of it, but I was SO scared. Scared of what ‘might’ happen. I guess my anxiety took over me. Nights weren’t even nights for me for it was at night I was most awake. Running away with my thoughts just trying to gather what was happening. It was all too quick.

I wasn’t the only one stressing out though. It was hard for my Nan and Grandad. To see their daughter in hospital. It was hard for Dad. To see his wife in hospital. Pacing back and forth during the night across the hallway to make sure we’re all sleeping well. It was hard for my Aunts and Uncles. To see their sister in hospital. It was hard for everyone. Shocking. And because it was all too much for everyone in so many different ways, everyone began to show it soon enough. Tensions were rising in the household and the rope that we all held onto to keep faith and be strong was tearing slowly.

We said things and did things towards each other that we didn’t really mean. But it was all out of anger. I understand that now. There’s something that happened with my Father and I that I don’t really feel comfortable talking about right now, maybe one day. But it’s in the past and it’s forgiven and forgotten but yet still is a shadow that creeps up behind me every now and then. It’s one of them things that is just the worst thing to say at that specific time and to be honest, it broke me. But my Father soon realised what he said and was sorry. Only my Aunt and Uncle Jay know about what really happened so only they will understand what I’m talking about when they read this.

But it made me stronger. Everything that happened with MyMumAndMe, made me stronger. It made me see life in a different way and understand things better. Be appreciative. The real world. Sometimes we just have to stay strong even though it’s the hardest thing and just carry on, because after every rainfall, comes a rainbow! (One of my favorite sayings 🙂 )

This specific negative, is what practically changed me. It hurt and really left a mark on me but it was all cool after a lovely tiramisu from the local cake shop just from the hospital. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger ey!

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From then on for the next 2 months, I went to go visit my Mum EVERYDAY. Even if it was for a minimum of 15 minutes I’d still go. I’d go and I’d sit with her and tell her everything. How well Aminah slept or how many times Naima fidgeted in bed. Or what the kids are wearing to even when the last time they ate was. No matter how bad the situation that my Mum was in, she still managed to be the amazing Mum she is! At times it’d make me cry actually, which may sound silly but is true. You see, as any Mum would do, before I left she’d always remind me to make sure my baby sister Aminah has been fed some milk and has a fresh nappy on before she goes to sleep. Making sure that all the laundry don’t get mixed up with the clean clothes etc. And it’s these little ‘warnings’ if that’s what you want to call it, is what’d make me cry. Because on a normal day, I say normal because these were my expectations, my Mum wouldn’t ask of these things from me because she’d do it herself. As a Mum, she’d make sure we were well fed and were happy, no arguments. She’d make sure our clothes were ready to wear and it was my Mum who’d make sure everything was kept tidy.

But because my Mum was practically useless, so weak and unable to even walk to the toilet from her bed which is only a few footsteps away let alone move her body to get into the position to get up was impossible at the moment, it was all down to me as the oldest to learn the ‘basics’. Which at the time weren’t really basics at all. I mean, I knew how to change a nappy and I knew how to make a bottle of milk. But I didn’t know how much the baby would want or how hot it should be. I didn’t know when the nappy is ‘full’ and I didn’t know why the baby’s crying. I didn’t know how to wash the clothes and I didn’t know how to sort arguments. I didn’t know how to sort the bedtimes and I didn’t know how to feed the kids. I had to learn a lot of things which I guess I should’ve known at my age anyways. But I guess as a teenager who’s reliable on her Mum, I didn’t really pay attention to how much is really done. You all must be wondering where my Father is in all of this. Well, my Dad is, well was, the kind of Dad who’d only do what he ‘has’ to do. Drop us all off to school, go work and get the money needed to maintain the household. We’d probably see him a few hours before bedtime and the only time we’d ever really spend time with him would be on a weekend or holiday. Even then, he’d be at the gym or with his mates. So my Mum was left to do everything to be honest.

Me and my Dad, we’re not that close. Well we weren’t as close as we are now. The only time I’d ever really have a proper conversation with him would be to complain or ask. And as bad as that sounds, it’s true. My Dad, don’t get me wrong isn’t the antisocial type, he’s always making us laugh and knows how to have a good time ‘when appropriate’ :/, he’s close with the other 3, but not as much with me. We don’t really have that supposed ‘father daughter relationship’.  So, the thought of being left alone with him to keep the house in tact with basically, the ‘3 Naughty Musketeers’ didn’t really comfort me. For he was exactly like me, a beginner.

But it’s not like we were alone; I have such an amazing supportive family Alhamdulilah and they were always there. Bringing food in and inviting us round and even taking us out, so that the younger lot didn’t feel that their Summer was somewhat ‘ruined’. My Uncle Jay and Aunty Halima even lived with us in the period of time that my Mum was in hospital. Aunty Halima even put her work on pause to make sure that we were okay. She was always there and so was Uncle Jay, and even to this day are. I don’t think I’d be able to do it if it weren’t for them, holding us tight in their arms as we cried at the thoughts of Mum, making us laugh, to even giving us that spark of hope when we gave up. For, the struggles of my Mum’s brain tumour being removed was complete, but the long road of recovery ahead of her and everyone as a family, lay ahead of us in the far, far distance.

There were good days and bad days, and some I’ll find hard to write about. Simply, because the memories will come flushing back. But, this is the story of MyMumAndMe and I want it to be as honest as possible with my emotions with certain scenarios. For if it weren’t for both the good and bad, the people, the tears, I wouldn’t be writing this now.



Soon, I had the courage, courage to go in and see my Mum. My beautiful Mother, laying on a hospital bed, who with the help of Allah, fought a brain tumor, Alhamdulilah. I remember looking back at my Aunt as she smiled back at me. I guess she could tell I was really nervous but I had to do this no matter how hard it was. My Mum was in the last bed in the bedroom she shared with 3 other patients. As I open the door with my body slightly shaking with nervousness, I step into what was, a brand new world. It smelled of medication and sounds of coughs, crying, wheezing and all sorts of sounds of illness aroused. I saw my Dad in the far right noticing me beside the door telling my Mum that I had come. Beside her were two other friends of hers from school, who came to visit.

And from that very moment, as I walked through the curtains into my Mum’s area, I saw what was probably, the worst sight I had ever seen. The sight of ‘intensive care’. My Mum, my beautiful, young Queen. Laying there, face all swollen, big white bandage on her head. Pipes coming in and out of my Mum as the suctioning sounds were in the background alongside the beeping from the two tall soldier-like machines that stood on each side of my Mum’s bedside. After a long but yet short observation of the atmosphere I had entered, my eyes set focus onto my Mother. Whom at that moment, I didn’t recognize.

She was looking to her right and I was on her left. My Dad told my Mum, “look she’s here, which daughter is here?” And my Mum replied “Noorjahan” which is my birth name. My heart felt so warm at something I usually find so cringe. But because my Mum said it with such a beautiful huge smile; it was just so special. My Dad said that I should go to the other side of the bed because my Mum found it hard to turn her head and so I did. She tried talking to me. But all she could manage were a few murmuring noises. Baby sounds. Not even full words. She smiled. I smiled back. She was just looking at me and I didn’t know what to think let alone say. She was sweating and her eyes were big. Her eyes had that beautiful sparkle from before, she was still the same. She was still MY MUM. My amazing Mum. Her eyes had the look, the look of help. She was tired, so tired and it was ever so visible. I just couldn’t do it. My STRONG Mum weak? It can’t be true. But it was, and this was just the beginning.

I couldn’t do it. That perfect scene of walking in and smiling, was the last thing on my mind. Instead, I cried. I cried and I cried and I cried. All my emotions of sadness, anger and confusion just burst out. As I looked at my Mum, I looked at the brain tumor too. The affects. The causes. This wasn’t my Mum. “Its okay Milly, don’t cry. Just make Du’a to Allah and He’ll make your Mum better soon In shaa Allah.” Although it was true, I didn’t want to hear that from my Mum’s friend, I didn’t want to hear that from anyone. Because all it did was make me cry even more and angrier with the fact that my Mum wasn’t well nor looked it. I didn’t see how everyone could talk about my Mum getting better, for it seemed like a such long way away. I guess I was at a stage in life at that moment, in which I was just so low, thinking positive was not possible. For the phone calls to my Aunt while she was at work, was always tearful. As tears flow I look back at my Mum, and I remember blinking really fast a few times just to come to terms that this was real, it was no nightmare. I had such a tight feeling in my throat and chest as I tried to keep the tears in, to no avail. At that point, my Mum began to cry and it was the worst.

But no, I had to be strong. We had to be strong, for my Mum to be strong. My Aunt walks in a few moments later and being the bubbly self she is, brings some life to what was a miserable atmosphere. We stayed with my Mum for about 15 minutes more as it was getting late and the kids back at my Nans began to get frustrated as they wanted to go home after a long day.

The walk home from the hospital to my Nans which is about 10 minutes by foot, was a very long and emotional endless walk. I walked alongside one of the friends who was there at the hospital the same time I was, the same one who said everything would be okay. She grew up with my Mum and so together we reminisced my Mum’s legendary strength of walking from one market to another. My Mum’s braveness in achieving anything she desired, MashaAllah. She was telling me about her niece who went through similar as my Mum at a very young age and now is well, after months and months of being in recovery, can now live her life as normal with no thought to pass on what challenge she overcame. This friend of my Mum’s I guess was telling me, to show that my Mum would get better in due time. Its all about patience; Sabr. I guess going through the pictures of her niece gave me a sense of relaxation and better faith, to go on and live our lives and be strong and supportive towards my Mother. Which we did successfully with many ups and downs, for the next 2 months.



“Oh okay. What’s happening now? Okay yeah, message me. Yeah she’s still awake. Yeah she’s having some coffee” were the words of my Aunt whilst talking to Uncle Jay on the phone finding out what has happened to my Mum. I could tell by my Aunt’s face that something was up but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions so I sipped and sipped on my cup of coffee till I couldn’t sip no more. A few moments later my Aunt asks if I want to go to the balcony to get some fresh air, and that’s when it was clear to me that something was definitely up! For the trips to the balcony was always full of tears and heart to heart talks. My heart began to race.

A few moments passed just standing in the balcony in silence looking at the city lights that lay ahead of me. My Aunt was hesitating and I could see she was crying. ‘Aunty please just say, whats wrong?’  ‘I don’t know how to tell you, and I don’t want you to worry’. And even though just then, she said for me not to worry, a huge wave of worry drowned me. And thats when I found out, at 3:25am, that my Mum was taken into the Intensive Care Unit (ICU).

“ICU? That’s Intensive Care isn’t it?” I said as my voice began to break. My obsession with Casualty allowed me to have the understanding of the severity and concern of my Mum going into ICU. I remember looking out at the hospital which I could see in the far distance, just staring. Thinking maybe I could see my Mum staring back at me. The harder I tried the more blurrier my vision became. Only to burst out with tears that landed on my Aunt within seconds. I sobbed and I sobbed and I honestly thought, that I was going to lose my Mum. Mum went into ICU due to difficulty in swallowing which lead to difficulty in breathing. Which resulted in the doctors coming to a conclusion of having to be incubated (a tube down my Mum’s throat to help breathe better) which didn’t happen because my Mum was closely monitored throughout her time in ICU and soon came out within 24 hours Alhamdulilah. But because ‘difficulty in breathing’ was in the sentence when explaining the circumstance of my Mum, all I could think about, honestly, was my Mum dying.

After hearing such shocking news I just couldn’t go to sleep.  I probably got 2 hours of sleep in total, waking up every half hour for a little cry. So the kids as usual, even though its 9am on a HOLIDAY, they decide to get up and scream the house down. Breakfast time- nasheeds played in the background. And there was one that always played and well, made everyone emotional. ‘I Think My Mum is Amazing’ by Zain Bhikha. I used to always get teary listening to it, the lyrics, I could just relate so much. Mum waking up in the morning and making breakfast, dropping us off to school with her pram. Making sure we looked smart and promised we’d be good. Be proud of us when we came home with a sticker or certificate, and would tell us about her day too. Enjoy a nice meal of her famous Sardines. Watch Eastenders together and hear her scream “it’s 9 o clock! Bed! Now!”  It was these small memories that meant so much to us, something that is seen as the ‘norm’ was something we all missed. Even my Dad, he didn’t like when we listened to that particular nasheed either, because it reminded him too, of our wonderful Mum.

I just wanted to see my Mum. And I didn’t care what had to be done or who wanted me, I wanted my Mum and that was all that mattered to me. So after leaving the kids at my Nans, Uncle Jay walked my Aunt and I to the hospital. Telling me what to expect. The bandage around Mum’s head where the operation was which is from mid head to forehead and just the swelling on her face. I thought, okay, I can deal with that I guess. So I walk into the ward, and I could feel my heart burst out of me. I couldn’t go in to see my Mum. I just couldn’t. In my head I played the scene of walking in and giving her a hug and telling her how proud I am of her getting through it and that I love her so much. At that moment I felt like a coward. I couldn’t go in to my Mum’s bedroom in the ward because I just didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to act. Didn’t know what to expect. No matter how many times I replayed that one scene. Would she remember me? Will she talk to me? Will she smile at me? What if I say something wrong? What if I cry? What if she cries? What if I break down in front of her? A good 3 minutes before I went in…



18/08/15. I remember that night so clearly. It was emotional, stressful and scary. The worst part was my younger brother and sisters were asking where Mum and Dad was, and when my Aunt, Uncle and I told them she was at the hospital they would say, “is she okay?” , and of course we’d say yes. But if I’m honest, the fact of Mum being ‘okay’ was the last thing on my mind. All I could imagine is this plum placed on my Mum’s brain, as the brain tumour was the size of a plum. And I swear to you it’s true when I say, although childish and stupid, it’s true when I say that when we found out that the tumour was the size of a plum, I had a real hate for plums, because, it was because of this plum-sized brain tumour that my Mum transformed into a weak, vulnerable and scared 30 year old. I remember going out into the balcony looking out at the view from my 12th floored castle just crying and crying as I thought of every bad thing that could happen, all the risks, as my Aunt held onto me with much love, care and nourishment, telling me it’d all be okay. That the fact that my Mum’s tumour was found early and is being treated ASAP says she won’t be hurting as much and that she will soon, with patience, get back to her normal self running from one market to another. It wasn’t just me who was worried, who was scared of what was about to happen in a few hours. I mean, I was scared for my Mum from a daughter’s eyes, but my Mum is also a daughter herself, a sister and a wife. One thing I remember clearly is saying goodbye to my Mum when visiting her a few days before her operation as visiting times were over, seeing my Aunt and Dad at the door to exit. It was the first time, the first ever time I had seen my Dad cry, cry for my Mum at the very least. I could hear my Aunt saying “she’ll be okay in shaa Allah Dulabhai” (brother in law). Everyone in the family was hurting one way or another, some showed it more than others. It was a real eye opener to being grateful for the happy lives that we lead and how quickly Allah can decide to turn it all around. SubhanAllah!

However my Aunt also told me that my Dad was saying when he spoke to the surgeon, who was taking out my Mum’s operation, sounded adamant that everything would go well, as he’s done it many times! I guess that gave me some sort of feeling of contentment but because I was so nervous, I didn’t want to eat or drink, even when my Mum and Aunt told me to, when everyone tried feeding me, my appetite just wasn’t around. We were all on our toes desperately waiting to hear that Mum had successfully come out 8-10 hours later from going into the operating theatre at about 12:30pm on the 19th of August. Which is what happened; when my Dad called my Aunt and told us all that she’s okay. Alhamdulilah! The brain tumour was removed successfully.

It was a great relief to hear that my Mum was okay and that the brain tumour was removed. All she had to do was get through the long journey of recovery. The doctors even said themselves, the removal of the brain tumour would be easy but the affects after, and the journey to becoming the person Mum was before is a long, long procedure, and so a care plan had to be put into place to ensure my Mum was resting as much as possible. Alhamdulilah my Mum had gotten through probably the biggest obstacle she has ever had to face and the fact that she faced it with a smile on her face and had come so far brought tears to my eyes. I was so proud of my Mum and all I wanted to do was see her, that’s of course as soon as she was ready, and so I did, 48 hours later. But, it wasn’t the ideal place to see my mum although in a hospital, as on that day at 3am Uncle Jay and Dad got a call from hospital, informing them that they needed to get to the hospital ASAP! What was wrong?



So my Aunt had finished and we walked to the benches just across the house that’s in the area, it was a nice day. Not too hot not too cold. The sun was beginning to set. So we sit down and she says that she needs to tell me something. She was taking so long! I just wanted to know, why everyone was so secretive and whispering and looking so down.

And that’s when she told me, the doctors found a tumour in my Mum’s brain. 09/08/15 , the day my Mum was diagnosed with a brain tumour.

My world just stopped. I looked into the distance of which tall grass stood ahead of me dancing along with the wind. Its like everything paused for such a long time. I could feel the anger and pain and sadness building up inside of me. I looked at my Aunt who’s just sitting there looking at me, with nothing to say. There wasn’t anything to say anyways. I remember thinking that the doctors must have got it all wrong. I mean, MY mum? MUM? No. No! I burst into tears and I practically drowned in them. I cried and cried and I  just didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to feel and think. ‘That’s MY mum though!’ I remember screaming out. It just…it just couldn’t be true.
At that point one of the eldest of the Uncles (from my Mum’s side) came running to me and gave me the tightest hug. I couldn’t breathe and it was one of them hugs. You know, the ones where the feeling is so strong, the emotion, that you can feel it as you hug, almost like the feelings themselves are bursting out of you. Minutes later my other Uncle and Aunt came back with the kids from the park to hear the news. And this Uncle, ‘Uncle Shodz’ well he’s really positive. So positive that he asked ‘has anyone eaten yet?, feeling a bit peckish’ and we all say no. He turns round offering to go Nandos ??❤️ it’s a moment my Aunt and I will never forget ?

Well soon as I found out all I wanted to do was be with my Mum. Speak to my Mum. And my Aunt could see that so she called my Mum up. I could feel my voice breaking as my Aunt asks my Mum if she’s okay and then says that I want to speak to her. ‘Hello?’ my Mum said and straight came ‘is it true you have a brain tumour?’  Tears fell and fell as I said them words. Never ever did I think it’d be so true. But it was. And it happened so quickly. ‘Yeahh, but don’t worry I’ll be fine’. Mum sounded the same. The same old strong, beautiful woman, the same she’s always been in her 30 years ❤️

My Aunt promised me we would go see her the next day in hospital and so we did. My younger brother and sisters didn’t know about Mum completely as they didn’t understand, but they knew Mum was ill and would be in hospital for quite a while.

After that day, Mum was in hospital for about a week and came home 3 days before her operation that would happen on the 19th of August to remove the brain tumour. We spent as much time with her in hospital and while she was at home. The younger lot weren’t allowed to be in the hospital because they were under age but I took advantage of being allowed to its finest, and visited her regularly every day. I’d bring food and a new set of clothes, really looked after my Mum. Everyone did. It was a hard time for my Mum, and we all had to be supportive and strong with her throughout each second.
When Mum finally did come home, our house was a happier place to be in. There was a good vibe and everyone had a smile on their face. Especially little baby Aminah, she missed my Mum so much that when she finally did see her, ahh she was so happy. Unfortunately Mum left us a day earlier as she wasn’t feeling well and had to be rushed to hospital at night on the 17th. I went to go visit her in hospital on the 18th, the day before the major 8-10 hour operation she would be having the next day at 12 30 in the afternoon. The doctors made everyone aware that there would be chances of side affects, such as memory loss, weakness etc. But the doctors were very adamant that the operation would go down well. It was so emotional but I had full faith in Allah that He would look after her and make her better soon. And so, my Dad was with my Mum and lovely Uncle Jay and Aunty Halima took care of us as we waited patiently to hear how Mum’s operation went.

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The Storm

Ah so sorry that I’ve been away! I’ve not been well for the past few days but I’m well now☺️. So let’s get straight into what happened with MyMumAndMe after the news of having a blood clot.

Well to be honest after that Mum was rather well. She was slower than usual as she was weak in her mobility due to weakness in her left leg but things were okay I guess. The blood clot had disappeared after having the anti-clot injection. Things were looking good, for the next two weeks.

It was two weeks later on a Sunday morning around 9 o clock that my Mum had a third seizure. I was in my bed dreaming away when I hear my Mum screaming out for help, three times. It was the second time that my Dad started yelling “Yaa Allah” running towards my Mum in the bedroom, when I had realised what was actually happening, my Mum was having a seizure. I ran as fast as my legs could take me only to see probably, actually it was, the worst thing I’d ever seen. My Mum’s body was trembling and her face was out of proportion. Me and my Dad were calling her but she couldn’t respond. I remember looking at her feeling so scared, just like my Dad said, I really couldn’t recognise my Mum. She’s known to be very fit Masha Allah, walking from one end to another doing chore after chore. That couldn’t have been my Mum. No way. Weak? No control? That’s not her. But it was. And the change just happened so quickly.

So I had to call the ambulance and it was my first time. I pulled out my phone and I couldn’t even dial the three numbers, 999, because I was shaking so much. Panicking. I called and there was such a lovely lady talking to me taking in the details and telling me what to do. As Mum was still fitting, we had to make sure all objects were away from her so that she wouldn’t bang against them and hurt herself. We had to keep my Mum calm and just relax her. The seizure lasted about 2-3 minutes. My Mum’s face was pale and her eyes were huge! She was looking around all lost and confused not aware of what happened to her. She was unable to speak but could hear us and we knew this as she looked at us when we spoke to her. I didn’t know what to feel. I didn’t know what to think. This wasn’t like my Mum. My Mum was unwell. Really unwell.

It took the ambulance crew about a couple of minutes after her seizure stopped, to arrive. But it felt like they took ever so long, with the tension building in everyone unaware of what to do next, didn’t help with the situation. They needed to be here in my house, with my Mum, ASAP! And in that time the lady on the phone was still talking to me taking in the details of my Mum’s breathing etc. When the ambulance did arrive they were talking in ‘doctor language’, I didn’t understand a single word that they were saying! They were very serious and very on task and to be honest made me a lot more nervous. I had to look after my brother and sisters while the paramedics were taking care of my Mum and getting the history of what had happened to my Mum previously before this seizure, from my Dad. She was taken in a stroller and my Dad went with her. I was left home alone with my brother and sisters.

And that’s when it really hit me. I began to cry and cry and I was just so scared. It’s not a nice thing to see, and it’s especially not a nice sight to see on your own Mum. I finally understood, now that I saw it myself. I mean, when it happened the past two times of course I was upset and scared, it was an unexpected shadow that would appear from nowhere and hurt my Mum. Make her weak, make her sad, make her in pain. But because I saw it for myself, because I watched her go into the ambulance, because I had to be brave for my younger siblings when I knew I wasn’t brave for my own self, it hit me more. And all I could think about was all the memories my Mum and I share, making me shed tears even more at that point.

Anyways, I stayed calm for the sake of everyone else and my Uncle called saying he was on his way to pick us up and take us to our Nans. The kids were out playing and as they’re young, well they didn’t have a clue what was happening to my Mum. But as they saw my Mum having the seizure they saw it as ‘Mum’s leg was shaking’.

The afternoon passed and we still hadn’t heard any news. Everyone came round to my Nans sitting eagerly wanting to know the updates on my Mum. It was about 5/6 o clock when my Nan was speaking on the phone to my Dad and started looking teary. My 3 Aunties were in the kitchen cooking and washing up the dishes. I walk in to get warm as at that point I was outside getting some fresh air to clear my mind all frozen, it was a nice summer evening outside, but as soon as I walked in, everyone’s mood that was given off created a storm. A dark cloud that overlook the entire house, when I see my Aunty Halima crying at the sink. What happened? Why’s everyone whispering? Is everything okay? Is Mum okay?

I hugged my Aunty as seeing her cry is not a nice thing. Seeing anyone cry at the least. She blamed it on the onions that she was cutting, only to find out later that it wasn’t because of the onions that she was crying. She told me to wait outside and that she would come ‘explain’ when she finished washing up the dishes. What was it? What’s there to explain?

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