Till we meet again, Harold boy

17 Jan 1997 - 13 Jun 2018

The dates are a stark, sombre reminder that where there’s a beginning, there’s an end.

For one Harold Tan, the in-between was an all-too-short 21 years.

I knew Harold because he was a classmate of my son’s in Primary one – a boy with hair that sometimes stood on end, his grin as toothy and cheeky as ever it could be at age seven, the gleam in his eyes bright and bursting with laughter.

Their friendship grew as they grew, and when, as young adults, they met on Christmas Day 2017 before my son set off on a five-month trip, Harold knew the goodbye might well be their last. My son – and the rest of us praying with him – was more hopeful.

Harold’s diagnosis of osteo-sarcoma had come two years and four months before, when he was in his final year of the International Baccalaureate (IB) studies at Anglo Chinese School (Independent) (ACSI). Harold had endured pain in his back all through the first half of that year, putting it down to muscular strain. He was, after all, a stellar sportsman – water-polo player of the highest calibre, swimmer, and captain of ACSI’s Oldham house. But when the numbness in his abdomen, fingers and feet would not go away, he asked to see a doctor.

As Singapore marked SG50 with jubilant celebrations on August 9, 2015, he and his parents, Thomas and Alene, found themselves swept up in an altogether different flurry of activity.

Harold was the consummate sportsman – a gentleman on the field and off, in the pool and out. Photo from rememberingharold.org

Divine connections

In God, there is no ‘coincidence’, severe though His mercies would turn out to be.

At a church meeting on Saturday night, eve of National Day, Thomas bumped into a doctor friend, Heng Kim Boon, who arranged for Harold to see a neurosurgeon immediately after the National Day holidays, on 11 Aug 2015.

Harold saw the neurosurgeon, James Tan, in the morning. In the afternoon, he was back at Gleneagles hospital – warded, because the MRI scan had picked up a tumour pressing on his C7 vertebra.

Harold hurried to finish one of his written papers as shocked classmates streamed in and out of his hospital room that evening. One of them was the son of the cardio-thoracic surgeon called to be on standby for the operation. When the boy called his dad for a lift home, the surgeon discovered that his soon-to-be patient on the operating table was a boy like his son, and a friend.

Two days later, Harold was wheeled into the operating theatre mid-morning.

The waiting room felt as cold as the fear did, especially when, after eight hours, word came that surgery had to be aborted because Harold had lost a dangerous amount of blood. Only the 5cm back portion of the tumour had been removed. A second operation was scheduled for Saturday afternoon. The estimated eight hours stretched into 16, and the surgeon emerged with grim news that the last 1% of the remaining tumour was stuck onto the vertebral artery, which needed to be clamped for him to proceed with removing it. This carried a 5% chance of Harold suffering a stroke.

It was touch-and-go. But Harold survived.

Harold’s own dream was to become a fighter pilot with the Republic of Singapore Air Force (RSAF). It was not to be. While his cohort was frantically studying for the November exams, Harold was undergoing physiotherapy to learn to walk again. There were 16 screws and two metal plates in his neck where the cancer had eaten into bone, and he was told he would not realise his dream, nor would he ever play contact sports again.

Seven cycles of chemotherapy and 28 radiotherapy sessions later, he was declared to be in remission on May 30, 2016. He began working for his IB diploma with the help of school teachers who were gripped by a tenacity as fierce as his own.

Harold’s Math teacher, Azmi Azeman (back row, fourth from right), joined the group that took part in a fundraising race benefitting the Singapore Cancer Society earlier this year, in memory of Harold. Photo from rememberingharold.org.

“We made the best of the limited time we had to get him ready for the Math exams. He gave his best, never once complained, so eager to learn. My biggest lesson from Harold is that we cannot crumble in the face of extreme adversity because we worship a God who is far greater,” says his Math teacher, Azmi Azeman.

A heart of service

His score of 39 points earned him a place in King’s College in the UK.

Meanwhile, though often weak and in pain, he returned to his alma mater and helped to coach the ‘A’ division girls’ water-polo team. He also gamed competitively and became fast friends with a team of non-Christian guys he met online.

Between September to October 2017, Harold reluctantly underwent another two cycles of chemotherapy and three operations due to new nodules in his lungs. After the first operation, he had to endure a series of lung exercises designed to rehabilitate his right lung and increase its capacity before the left could be operated on. The pain was debilitating and the rigour, defeating.

The greater agony was the realisation that the sarcoma was back with a vengeance. Treatment options were exhausted, with the exception of Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) and immunotherapy. Both were long shots.

Still, the uncertainty of his future did not stop Harold from enrolling in Trackers, the Methodist Church in Singapore’s annual discipleship training programme for youths.

He volunteered to be the leader for his group’s trip to Timor Leste – and went against the advice of his oncologist and parents, because he was continually in pain and just recovering from a fever.

A love letter

After his return, Harold finally asked his oncologist, Dr Khoo Kei Siong, for his prognosis and was told he had less than six months to live. He was calm.  Ironically, “our conversation became easier,” says Thomas, Harold’s father. “We spoke about options and different courses of action we could take. We grew deeper in our relationship each day. We did devotions together daily.”

On 22 May night, he read out loud a love letter he had written his parents during the Trackers programme.

Thomas, 50, is wistful: “He thanked us for being his parents, bringing him up and giving him all the love he needs. He apologised to us for not meeting the targets he set for himself academically, and yet we did not reprimand him.”

Moving on in faith: Thomas and Alene visited East Timor in July 2018, in keeping with Harold’s instructions. Photo courtesy of the Tans.

Alene, also 50, recalls: “He read the letter to us despite his pain and having to catch his breath. He told us he loved us very much and was very grateful for all we had done for him – enrolling him in ACS, travelling, taking care of him when he was sick.”

Bidding farewell

Harold had known for some time that there was no earthly cure for his condition. Nonetheless, he submitted to undergoing immunotherapy. At the end of May, Harold had increasing difficulty breathing, and x-rays seemed to indicate that his right lung was filled with water. A procedure was begun to drain the fluid but it was quickly suspended: It was not water but dense mass. The nodule that was there had grown large enough to compress his lungs.

On 7 June, friends from Ang Mo Kio Methodist Church gave him a jar filled with notes of thanksgiving, and Harold deposited his final piece of writing: “Thank you, Lord, for making me feel better after a difficult morning and all the visitations, prayers and fellowships.”

Sing a new song: Harold (in red) seized every opportunity to serve in the worship ministry, even though his health was rapidly declining. Photo courtesy of the Tans.

“That night,” Thomas says, “we played two games of X-Box – FIFA World Cup 19. Like before, Harold beat me using his favourite England and Spain teams. That was the last time we played together.”

The next day, Harold insisted on returning home. But at 3am on 9 June, he was readmitted to the hospital.

The memory was difficult for Thomas. “He asked for permission to make a final decision for himself.” He asked to be put on sedation to reduce his pain and discomfort. “It was not easy for us but we respected and supported him. We are thankful that it allowed him to have some quality time to bid farewell to family and friends.”

The finish line

Harold also gave his parents some final instructions:

1.      Decide on what to do with his belongings.

2.      Visit the children at St Paul Methodist School in East Timor.

3.      Visit King’s College London on his behalf.

4.      Inform all his friends that he loved them.

Thomas wrote in a family reflection: “My last prayer with Harold was on Tues 12 June. I read some chapters from the Psalms to him and took the courage to renounce my responsibilities as his earthly father, to return Harold to the heavenly Father; experiencing God’s words coming alive and appreciated the pain which Abraham went through when he sacrificed Isaac as an offering.”

“We concluded: “The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps.” (Prov 16:9)

In God’s perfect timing, Harold passed on peacefully on Wed 13 June.

“We grieve, we weep, we rejoice. We love you, Harold boy.”

Emilyn Tan once spent morning, noon and night in a newsroom in the US, then in the Mediacorp office in Singapore. She gave it up to spend morning, noon and night at home, in the hope that someday she’d have an epiphany of God with His hands in the suds, washing the dishes too.

(Republished with permission from saltandlight.sg)