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It was Nov. 7, 2016, and Andrea Teo and Choo Wei Hao were gearing up to tie the knot in six days.

Their wedding, they had decided, would be Japanese-themed. Instead of monochromatic gowns and suits, both had picked out a kimono and yukata respectively, and the wedding venue would be festooned with the reds and oranges of autumn leaves.

This design choice was meant to honour the place and time that they fell for each other — Japan, April 2015.

Teo, 36, and Choo, 32, first knew of each other via a multi-player online role-playing game, Final Fantasy XIV.

Both were a mere blip on the other's radar, until they saw each other in real life as part of a group outing consisting of FFXIV gamers. Even back then, their impressions of each other were cordial, and no romance was kindled until both happened to be visiting Japan concurrently with their own friends.

Deciding to spend a few days together, Teo recalls a "crazy moment" where she and Choo decided to leave their AirBnB wearing just hotel slippers ("ugly slippers", Choo adds) and jacket, and travel to a nearby convenience store in spite of the frigid weather in early spring.

"So we just did a very stupid thing together, and to him that was like 'Oh, there's actually someone who's willing to do stupid stuff together' and to me, he's a very nice guy la."

The two got together soon after that.

While that moment out in the cold night in Japan might seem inconsequential to outsiders, perhaps it was a foretelling of what the couple would weather through years later, and the solidarity both displayed to each other, even in the small moments.

Continuing with the wedding despite the diagnosis

In the week leading up to their wedding, Teo realised that something was amiss.

She started having very heavy periods, "to the extent that blood clots were falling out of me".

Although her periods had been irregular her whole life, she decided to visit her gynaecologist, and was then advised to go for a biopsy.

Sitting in the doctor's office, six days before the wedding and at the age of 30, Teo was told that she had Stage 1 endometrial cancer, a type of cancer that begins in the uterus.

The earth continued spinning, but for Teo, time stopped momentarily in that sterile office and she could only react with shock.

"I don't think I really reacted in the office. The tears didn't start until I stepped out I think."

She described that at her young age and having lived her life with a relatively carefree attitude, she'd been blindsided by the news.

"I think when you're in your 20s, you honestly don't think so much, it's just whatever la you know, also not planning for kids or anything yet, just live life."

Incidentally, Teo's gynaecologist happened to be the couple's wedding solemniser and a family friend, and he immediately asked if the pair wanted to postpone the wedding until Teo received treatment.

For Choo, it was an easy and swift decision to continue with the event despite the diagnosis. He states in a matter-of-fact manner, a trait I've come to recognise from him through the interview:

"I already decided to marry her. I felt like it was the only logical thing to do. If I say no, how is she going to feel? I mean it's not gonna help her, it's not gonna support her anyway so I just say go ahead la."

Choo's response reaffirmed Teo's decision that she would be spending the rest of her life with him as her other half. "That was the moment I realised I really am going to marry the right person," she said.

In fact, continuing with the wedding in light of this development simply gave it more meaning.

Considering different treatments

That was not to say Teo did not fret about the diagnosis.

Like what a typical digital native would do, Teo proceeded to Google non-stop about the disease, its effects, and the treatment options, one of which would be to remove her reproductive organs entirely.

"While I'm not the kind that's like, omg I really want kids, I'm quite neutral about it. But the fact that I have to process losing a given biological function was a lot to take in. And I was honestly more terrified of a personality change than anything else. Because it would really mean losing yourself, you know, so I cried buckets over that."

Teo spent a few days processing this hurdle that life had dropped into her lap before she collected herself and set her mind to preparing for the wedding.

"I have an event to run, which is basically our wedding. Let's get it done. That cancer is not going to go away even if I cry, and I obviously don't want to look like crap on the wedding day, right?" she asserted.

It was only after the wedding day did the couple start to consider Teo's treatment options.

One was to remove her uterus, ovaries and fallopian tubes, which would eliminate the cancer completely. The second option was to undergo a hormonal treatment, which would hopefully reverse the effects of the cancer cells.

Although Choo preferred the first option, as it would almost guarantee that she would be free from the illness, Teo eventually chose the hormonal treatment, which is also a less invasive one.

Teo promised Choo that if the hormonal treatment was not as effective as expected, she would undergo surgery to remove her reproductive organs with no qualms.

结婚生子 ("get married and have kids")

"We took that shot but unfortunately, it didn't work," Teo revealed.

Despite a year of quarterly hormone jabs, the cancer returned with a vengeance — a tumour on one of Teo's ovaries.

With Choo's blessing, Teo thus went under the knife, forever eliminating the possibility of the couple having their own biological children.

Although Teo was ambivalent about the idea of motherhood, it was Choo's "life goal" to 结婚生子 (a Mandarin phrase meaning to "get married and have kids") since he was in secondary school.

"His life goal," Teo reiterates during the interview at their HDB flat. "Was my life goal," Choo corrects.

He had liked interacting with children since his mother helped babysit for a relative when he was young.

Choo admits he couldn't help but to feel disappointed when he realised he would not be able to have a child of his own. "But ultimately, I choose her to be my wife, so I'll just accept it la," he adds.

"Do you feel guilty?" I ask Teo.

"Ya, I felt very guilty," Teo answers without hesitation, before starting to tear up.

She grips Choo's hand beneath the dining table.

"It's okay, it's no longer my life goal," Choo reassures.

After taking some minutes to compose herself, Teo adds, "Ya I definitely feel guilty, because I mean, someone's life goal is not going to happen because he's going to marry me."

Nevertheless, the pair have discussed this at length before Teo underwent surgery, and for now, adoption is still very much on the cards.

"I think it would have been quite cute to see what comes out, you know, who does the kid resemble and all that," Teo adds, a tad wistful.

A 'swiss roll' on her brain

The eventual diagnosis for Teo's endometrial cancer was Stage 3A and, by that point in time, a surgery to remove her reproductive organs was no longer sufficient to completely treat the cancer.

Teo thus had to undergo chemotherapy, before which she was required to do a full body scan.

But it seemed that life had yet to deal her all its cards.

In August 2018, doctors found an atypical shadow on a part of her brain, which turned out to be a brain tumour.

"Surpriseeee," Teo quips.

Called a meningioma, the tumour sat on the right side of her brain. "It looked very pretty, I almost call it like a mini swiss roll or a log cake."

On this roller coaster turn of events, Teo opines: "I was like 'Hah, another thing to deal with??' I thought I was getting out of something, then something even bigger came my way."

This was a hard blow for the then-32-year-old Teo.

"Back then life was really just beginning, like is it going to end so soon before I even hit my forties?"

Thankfully, she found solace in the Brain Tumour Society Singapore, among others suffering from similar conditions.

Additionally, doctors shared that there was a high chance the tumour was benign, considering Teo had lived with it for years with no symptoms. The immediate course of action was thus to treat her cancer first by proceeding with chemotherapy.

Experiencing extreme fatigue and loss of taste

The chemotherapy entailed six sessions every three weeks. "When I heard six, I was like, six, okay la, no problem, shouldn't be an issue," Teo recalled her gung-ho attitude.

She later realised she had severely underestimated the process.

For the first few sessions, Teo only needed several days to recover from the extreme fatigue, a side effect of the treatment.

Subsequent sessions became increasingly exhausting.

By the sixth and final session, Teo would spend a whole week in bed, debilitated and too worn out to even get up.

She recounts how she wanted to put a cup down in the kitchen, and the short walk of less than 10m from the bedroom left her panting.

"That was quite shocking to me. I think that was one of my lowest points, not being able to even move freely in my house, in my own place."

For Teo, losing her hair did not faze her, but losing her sense of taste was "devastating" as the couple are huge foodies.

An active and independent person when in the pink of health — Teo was always running out and about, especially in her line of work at an events company — the cancer and resulting treatment also forced her to take a step back and slow down her pace.

She candidly shares that as someone who is used to doing things on their own, turning into one who had to be cared for had bruised her ego. However,  Teo recognised that it was a learning process for her to be okay with being vulnerable, and to accept help more readily.

During this period, Choo took over the household duties and chores. "I did the chores, then I just lie down [in bed] beside her," he added.

Instead of going out on dates and trying out different activities, Teo and Choo simply enjoyed quiet moments in each other's presence at home.

With Choo's support, Teo gradually regained some semblance of normalcy over the months.

No hesitation going for brain surgery

In July 2021, two years after commencing chemotherapy, Teo was finally scheduled for an eight-hour major surgery to remove the brain tumour.

She had previously been given two options by her neurosurgeon — undergo surgery to remove the tumour immediately, or keep it and risk suffering a stroke at a later age.

"It didn't make sense to put myself at risk of getting stroke after I've survived cancer. I think I didn't even take a minute to say yes, I was just like, 'Okay, let's go for surgery.'"

It was such an easy decision for Teo that she simply forgot to check if her husband was in agreement with her. After all, "opening up your skull is never a small thing."

Choo was all for it though: "Just go, why leave it there, souvenir ah?"

As Teo was knocked out in the operating room, Choo roamed around the hospital for hours. He shares that the gravity of the operation did not hit him as hard until he saw his wife motionless on the hospital bed after the surgery, strung up with tubes.

"I think I woke up [from the surgery] in shock because I saw you crying," Teo said to Choo.

Although the surgery went as smoothly as it could, Teo is still recovering from some lingering effects.

Till now, despite months of intensive physiotherapy, Teo is unable to fully utilise her left hand and has to wear a brace. She also requires help with actions that require fine motor skills from her left hand, such as buttoning up shirts.

In fact, she shares that the left side of her face still feels numb sometimes, though it certainly isn't noticeable from her effervescent smiles and laughter.

To help with the partial immobility of her left hand, Choo gifted Teo an iPad and Apple pen so she would not be forced to type on her computer with one hand, something she had been doing for her essays and assignments for the Master's degree she had started in July 2020, a year before her brain surgery.

Engraved with their initials and images of their Zodiac animals, Choo believed it to be a practical gift his wife could put to good use, and "so when she sees the pen, she sees 'Ohh good husband'".

It's 'just life'

For most, having to navigate these consecutive health scares might put a damper on their outlook on life.

Certainly, Teo confesses that she is not the same person she was before the initial cancer diagnosis. She shares that she's grown to be more solemn and serious, and more deliberate about the things she does and the choices she makes.

"[My choices have] to be more meaningful than ever, rather than just, you're not thinking too much about it, because you have almost lost all the remaining time in your life. So therefore with whatever time we have now you actually honestly cherish a lot more."

And while she grieves over the loss of her previous self to a certain extent, being forced to slow her pace has allowed her a greater appreciation of everything that surrounds her.

When asked if there was anything she realised she took for granted before her illnesses, Teo's answer is simple.

"Just life lor. The fact that you are alive and you are perfectly normal, with all functions intact. I think that was something that I think most people wouldn't really think about."

Most of all, the past few years have allowed her to reflect on her relationship with the person who has remained stolidly by her side all this while, through hospital visits (Teo notes that of all the appointments she's had for her cancer, brain tumour and surgeries, Choo has only ever missed one), being bedridden and the recovery process.

"Having him with me was really a very good source of support. And if you can't already tell, his sense of humour really kept things going for us. Yeah, [when he says] something silly, I just laugh it off, and I kind of forget about some of the challenges I'm facing for a while."

As she mulls over the possibility of going through what she has had without Choo, Teo concludes that the burden she would have to bear alone is unimaginable.

"[Everything that has happened] made me appreciate the fact that I have a partner to support me through everything. I didn't have to do it alone.

Could I have done it alone? Probably, of course, but it will be a very different experience."

Top photo courtesy of Andrea Teo