My divorce was a wake-up call to get my finances in order. The real test was when I had a brain tumour

I had dreams of being a fashion designer at a young age but at 16, I took on part-time jobs that included waitressing because I understood then that money does not come easily, and that financial security truly meant stability and peace of mind. 

Growing up, my father worked three jobs to support me and my four siblings, while my mother, a homemaker, took on small jobs such as babysitting my cousins to help with the family's finances. 

They spent many years stretching every dollar to make ends meet, and as the oldest child, I had to pitch in from an early age. 

While my parents were extremely frugal, making sacrifices to ensure our family had enough to get by, concerns over money were never far from our minds.

Later, I settled into a desk-bound role that provided a stabler source of income.

In 2007, when I was 26, my path shifted. During a family dinner at my grandmother's place, the elders were discussing Soon Soon Huat Curry Puff, the business my grandmother started in 1992. 

I had spent many a weekend helping out as a child and then as a teenager – spooning curry filling into pastry dough, serving customers, taking stock and everything in between. 

So that night, when my grandmother suggested closing the shop because of manpower shortages, I didn't hesitate to volunteer to take over the business. 

Taking over the business was not part of my original plan, but it was a decision made from love for my family's legacy. It would be a waste for a business built over two generations to simply come to an end. 

Hence, that same year, I resigned from my steady desk job and set out on a new path to keep my grandmother's recipe and my family's legacy alive.

As I worked tirelessly every day – waking before sunrise, spending long hours on my feet, carefully wrapping each curry puff by hand – I found myself loving the job more and more.

Having grown up in a household where every cent counted, I learnt to prioritise having cash for the present. Long-term financial planning never came naturally to me.

Then, just when I thought that the burden I had undertaken might be my new calling, I was diagnosed with a brain tumour.

WHEN PLANNING BECAME UNAVOIDABLE

In 2020, more frequent spells of dizziness and headaches led me to visit the doctor. It was discovered that I had a 4cm brain tumour, which was causing water retention in my brain.

When the doctor informed me that I would require emergency surgery, fear and uncertainty hit me hard. 

I thought of what would happen to my two daughters – one 18, the other just five at the time (now 23 and 10) – and to the business that I had poured years of my life into sustaining.

Initially, I was also worried about the financial costs. Even though I already had insurance coverage by this point, a family crisis in 2015, when my late grandmother was hospitalised for a heart condition, had given me constant anxiety at the thought of hospital bills.

With no insurance coverage, my family had to pool nearly half a million dollars to cover her hospital expenses. Watching my family scramble to come up with the money showed me how vulnerable we were when a major illness struck.

I was also forced to confront my financial situation in another crisis two years later, in 2017.

At 36, I was divorced and my health insurance policy lapsed – something that I only discovered later, when I realised it had been financed through my ex-partner's Central Provident Fund Medisave account.

As a single mother, I had dependents to think about, so I could no longer leave things as they were.

My younger sister, who works as a financial adviser, pressed me to take a hard look at my insurance coverage. 

It became a wake-up call for me, as I quickly learnt that being independent also meant reclaiming control over aspects of my life I had once entrusted to my partner.

In the end, I decided to take up a health insurance plan that included hospitalisation and critical illness coverage.

At the time, it felt like just another item on a long list of responsibilities. I didn't think much about it again, until my brain tumour diagnosis.

ROAD TO RECOVERY

In my family, there was no medical history of cancer, so it was a stark reminder that unexpected situations can often catch us off guard, making us feel as if the rug has been pulled from under our feet.

Even though my tumour turned out to be benign, it still needed treatment. Its location in my brain had impacted a nerve.

However, during my treatment and recovery, having that financial safety net meant that I did not have to worry about making trade-offs just to foot the bills. 

It helped keep the business running, covered rent and basic expenses, and ensured that my family's needs were met at a time when I had little capacity to manage anything beyond getting through each day.

Having that breathing room meant so much, because I could focus on my healing. 

During my recovery period, it was also my family who carried me through. My uncles and sisters stepped in to help at the shop whenever they could, taking shifts, filling gaps and lightening the load. 

With both financial coverage and my family's helping hands, I did not have to worry about losing what my grandmother had built. 

LEARNING TO LIVE WITH CHANGE 

Five years on, I'm still continuing treatment for a facial nerve disorder affecting my speech, face and eyes.

Recovery has been slow and uneven. 

I am now fully back at the shop, but it was difficult to adapt when I first returned. 

I partially lost my hearing in my left ear due to the tumour, and something as routine as taking customers' orders was rather challenging. 

This transition period was a hard one, having to accept that I no longer looked the same and dealing with the difficulties often made me feel exhausted.  

What kept me steady was my family. Spending time with them and knowing they were there helped me keep going. 

Life goes on after all, regardless of my health. There are household expenses to manage, workers' salaries to pay and a business to keep running.

Looking back, having a financial cushion in place did not make the recovery process any less difficult for me, but it did ease one layer of pressure during a period when everything felt uncertain. 

The experience has also made me rethink the conversations I have with my two children – not just about money, but about uncertainties and responsibilities. 

I hope they will grow up with more financial security than I did, and with the freedom to pursue their own paths, whether that is in the media industry or the arts, or even continuing the family business as a fourth-generation owner.

I won't be able to protect them from every hardship life may bring, but I can take steps to show them that if they ever face a major setback as I did, they need not carry the same fears I had.

Tay Mui Lan is a third-generation owner of Soon Soon Huat Curry Puff, located on East Coast Road.