Wednesday, September 16, 2009

The Sweetest Thing

In the hospital, while waiting for the doctor to insert his IV.
--
Me: Dash, what do you want to become when you grow big?

Dash: Hmmm...

Me: Do you want to become a doctor?

Dash: Hulk

Me: Huh? You want to become a hulk?

Dash: Yeah Mommy.

Me: Why?

Dash: So that I can carry your car for you.
--
Sweet Boy. Hulk it is.

Friday, September 11, 2009

I'm Giving It Up

Josh: Mom? How come you don't allow me to drink coke but Arrow can drink coke?

Me: Huh? Arrow doesn't drink coke.

Josh: Yes he does.

Me: No he doesn't Josh.

Josh: But you told me that whatever you drink and whatever you eat goes to Arrow.

Me: Yeah.

Josh: You drank coke a while ago.

~silence~

Josh: Mom, you drank coke a while ago.

Me: I know.

Josh: So...Arrow drank coke. Because you told me...

Me: I'm never drinking coke again.


Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Some Firsts Aren't Quite Fascinating


He swam for 7 hours and after 2 days of paracetamol and mucolytic, we found ourselves in the ER. His Pediatrician felt it better we treat his pneumonia in the hospital - against my pleading. How would our arrangements be? There was a 6 month old baby waiting for me at home but I knew I had to be beside my 3 year old.

This was his first time to be admitted to a hospital.I am thankful that there was no drama in the ER. His IV was inserted without a hitch. He was extremely cooperative and didn't complain 1 bit except for when they were about to do an x-ray. I despise "cold, detached" health care workers who fail to make the patient feel safe and secure. So I had to do a bit more prodding at the x-ray room while the very impatient x-ray technician tapped his foot while waiting for a very scared 3 year old to subject himself to what the kid felt was a scary procedure.

The husband stayed with him through the night because I had to feed the littlest one through the night. I must say, Dash was such a trooper.

We were hoping to be discharged after 48 hours but his pediatrician thought otherwise. I would stay in the hospital the whole day and would leave when Dash would be asleep. I would come home feeling guilty and lonely. Looking for the normal.

Finally, today, Dash's pediatrician found Dash fit to continue his medications at home.
Sure it was a time of testing for us again. But I realized that in adverse circumstances, complaining never gets the job done. Being thankful is the best thing to do.

Everytime I would go to the hospital in the morning, I would have to pass by the PICU and I would have to see this little guy hooked up to a respirator and I would have to see the worried, sad, heartbroken faces of his family.

Friday, September 4, 2009

Unplugged

There are certain events I know are engraved in my heart. Often times, they cross my mind. Sometimes I choose to deny them access to my heart, I try to think of happier times. Seldom do I allow myself to live and relive those moments. That seldom is today.

I remember...

I woke up at 6 or even a little before 6. Excited may never be right term. Anxious maybe. Scared a better word. We were to leave for Manila and bring Mom to St. Luke's Hospital -- for her to get the best medical care. They wheeled her down to where the ambulance was waiting. One of her good friends, Auntie June, rode with her in the back. when she was safely secured, I took my seat in front beside the driver. I was holding my Bible and a slice of banana bread. I don't remember the last time I ate. As we drove, I tried to take a bite of the bread because I suddenly felt hungry. So I did. And then I remembered why we were going to Manila then suddenly, I completely lost my appetite. I decided to read my Bible.

There was a funeral procession when we reached one of the provinces. It didn't mean anything to me. Or I didn't want it to mean anything to me. I watched the family members cry and mourn.

The trip just took around 4 hours. When we got to the hospital, my aunt was waiting for us there. Mom went through the regular pre admission screening and then we finally brought her to her room.

My aunt, who is a pre school teacher, had all of her students make get well cards for my Mom which she decorated the room with. Shortly after my Mom was settled on her bed, my other aunt (Mom's eldest sister) called. Mom broke down. This was the first and the last time I heard my Mom cry her heart out about her cancer. I cried. My aunt cried. My Moms friend cried. We cried. And then we had a hearty lunch of KFC chicken, mashed potatoes and coleslaw.

--

I miss you Mom. So much. I feel so lonely. I am full of joy with my 3 boys but a lot of times I crave for some decent adult conversation. It's the little things I miss. My being able to rant to you knowing fully that even if you didn't agree with me, I wouldn't feel as though I am being judged for how I feel or how I view things. Being able to ask you how to make certain dishes that I loved to eat when I was growing up. To gossip with someone. To share stories of the kids. You understood me Mom, you always got me. I'm lonely. You are one of the very, very, very few with whom I can be myself and when I am not with you, I miss myself too.

I still question God every once in a while and then I am reminded that for everything, there is a reason. I haven't understood His ways and I may never be able to do so. So each day, I remind myself that you are in a better place. By doing so, I also remind myself to stop being selfish.

But it doesn't change the fact that I miss you so.

Tomorrow I'll try to go on again with my life. Half heartedly convincing myself to keep my head up high, fill my heart with joy and live in contentment.

Until I decide to unplug my self again....