In early August, Scrappy’s mother fell ill and was in hospital. It sounded iffy so Scrappy flew immediately back to Canada. She recovered but she knew that another brain surgery would be required. If you think national health care is a great idea, this story will set you back a piece, Canada’s health care system basically sucks.
The doctor scheduled a check-up visit for mid-September. At the visit, they scheduled the surgery for 5 weeks in the future. The doctor and hospital having a busy schedule. Last Friday, the whole family turns up at the hospital for a pre-op. Blood testing and other stuff. Yesterday morning at a bright 6.30 a.m Scrappy, his mother, father and sister are at the hospital for the operation. His mother is expected to remain in hospital for a week to recover. It’s anxious at best.
They prep Scrappy’s mother, shave head, IV’s, ready for surgery that is until the doctor walks in and advises that the hospital has no ICU beds free and there is no way they can operate today. An hour later the family piles back into the car and home they head. A few hours afterwards they get a new date for the surgery 2 more weeks in the future. Which basically means sometime near the end of November before Scrappy would return.
At this point, I’m closing in on 3 months without Scrappy. I realize he can’t control the Canadian health care system or his mother’s own health. I’m trying to be a big boy. But Scrappy’s mother isn’t incapacitated, she’s up and about shopping at Walmart. Scrappy is busy hanging out with family and friend’s and doing what the bulk of Caribbeans seem to do, be lazy. He’s back to being a teenager.
In talking with Scrappy he let slip that he had told his parents he wanted to return to Hong Kong on the 21. November. I got quietly upset. It became apparent to me that he had planned all along not to return until then no matter what. I fumed in silence.
Keeping a gay relationship going is like trying to hold 2 magnets together on the wrong poles. I am trying to be all grown up and understand not only his family situation but that I’m asking for him to trust me to re-pot him on the other side of the earth, far away from all his friends and the comforts he knows.
Relationships often crumble, the result of years of neglect and not usually the result of a single act. I’m thinking of all the months that Scrappy has left me on my own. He lingered in London, he stayed in New York, the numerous trips to Canada, the failed Caribbean cruise ship venture.
All along, I’ve patiently and quietly endured and knowing that he would eventually return. It’s the constant saying of good-bye that has me weary. Scrappy has been good, he stays in constant communication but I’ve slowly worn thin on all of this. I’m facing fewer years forward than backward and I need to make the best of the time.
But perhaps this is “best in class” for what I can expect from a gay relationship. A snap of my fingers and I could turn the flood gates on of Asian snap dragons here in Hong Kong, but in that sea of ramen would I find a more fitting relationship?