Unsent: Christmas Card

january 18, 2007

Dearest Eves,

How are you amiga? It has been a long time since I've picked up a pen and wrote you. Maybe because I've never been stuck in a hospital for 4 days with so much time on my hands and yet in reality I have so little. I have to keep busy or go mad.

Every second that ticks by reminds me of why I hate hospitals. This place is huge but it's suffocating - these stark white walls, nurses in white, stoic doctors, the smell of disinfectant, the sounds made by the sick... I could go on and on. Every minute that passes by seems to mock me - I am running out of time. I still have so many things to do and a lot of things I wish to say. Every hour that goes by is an agony...another battle lost...another defeat from an enemy I could never outpace or outsmart.

I meant to reply to the christmas card you sent to me. I wanted to say Thank You for remembering even when I have neglected you. I know you can count on your 5 fingers the letters I sent you last year. They were very far and very few. I am such an Ass. You never forgot and here I am only writing you now.. but what are the chances this paper will end on the mail? Like the rest it will probably end up on my drawer...or maybe crumpled in the trash like what happened to the rest. I am writing this on a pink tablet paper. The paper used by my hermano for his notes.

I don't like writing you like this but what is there to tell. My grief seems to spill from pen to paper. I cannot contain it. I don't want anyone infected. If it's a poison to me then I don't want to infect the rest. I don't know what possess me to write you know. Maybe you can find an antidote for me.

As you might have guessed, 2006 was not the best year for me (an understatement...heck it was Crap... and even that is an even greater understatement too). From the look of how 2007 started, it is going down the drain as well faster than last year's.

As you may have deduced from my grumblings, my mom has not been well. She hasn't been for some time, but this is the first time she got confined to a hospital. She had difficulty breathing last Sunday. So she was rushed to the hospital where she received a blood transfusion because she had a very low hemoglobin count (she and my hermano have the same blood type) and was hooked up to an oxygen tank.

I arrived at the hospital on Monday night around 10pm. I think I left Manila past 11am. I haven't eaten nor gotten any sleep yet since I came from work the night before. I dozed all the way to Naga. The bus was so crowded, I had to sit at the back. The bus conductor had to wake me up to tell me to get off the bus or else I end up all the way to Ormoc, Leyte where the bus is headed. My hermano and uncle had to pick me up because I was so disoriented.

When I arrived at the hospital, I saw my father conversing with one of my mom's doctors. I went to my mom's room immediately and found her sleeping. She had difficulty breathing even in her sleep. It was painful to watch her, every painful gasp is like a jab to my heart. I never thought I would see my mother like this. I wanted to cry then but I was so tired and half numbed. I could only stare and despair. The image of her before me - so frail, so vulnerable - it was extremely heartbreaking. I wanted to be elsewhere but I can't leave. It felt so unreal. I wish it was somebody else on that bed not my mom. I had to stop myself from biting my lips before it bleeds again so I settled for biting my inner cheeks.

The doctor called me. He wanted to talk. I replaced my father and dragged my hermano with me. He wanted to know what are our plans, the expectations we have. Prognosis is not good (honestly I couldn't recall it ever been good). Basically what he's trying to say is: "there is nothing they can do." He suspects that the disease has spread on to her bones (that is why her right leg is paralyzed) and to her lungs (she has difficulty breathing). He would need to run some tests tomorrow to confirm how far it has gone. He asked me if I want to put my mom on ICU if suddenly her heart fails or her lungs fail. Of course I said yes. I don't know what he expected me to say. But what I wanted to say was that it is a ridiculous question. I won't let her go without a fight. He said a lot of things too but they barely registered on my tired brain. I just wanted to crawl somewhere far, dark and safe. I don't ever want to feel again. I wanted to die on that spot. I want the earth to open up and swallow me. I don't want to listen to his calm voice explain to me why they can only do this and not that; why she's never going to get well. I wanted to cry but I held on to my tears. I don't want to cry in front of him. I wanted to tell him screw you, but I held my tongue. After all, it's not like it's his fault we're here.

I cant' recall what my responses where. I only know they were very few because I had nothing to say. He was just giving me the cold hard facts. I know he wanted to say some more but something probably on my expression held him back. I agree to think about whatever it was I agreed to think about and we'll talk again tomorrow. That's how my first night went. That was my breakfast, my lunch and my dinner. Even if I wanted to throw up, I couldn't because there was nothing but bile in my stomach.

I went home past 1AM. I went back to the hospital in the morning. I've been here ever since. The doctor and I have spoken several times. He makes his round in the morning and then late at night. The lab results confirmed it has spread on to the lungs. They're not sure if it has gone on to the bones, he said he would need another CT scan. But I won't subject my mother another to torture. Her wound bled after the lab tests. I can tell she was in so much pain. The CT scan require she lie in a supine position. She can't do that anymore because she can't breathe if she lies that way. She sleeps sitting up. I think we already know. A CT scan would just confirm our worst fear. I don't want to feel any worst than I do now.

The doctor told me she has water on her lungs, that is why she can't breath well. Normally they drain it using a big needle, but since she's too weak for it and inserting a needle would probably cause the disease to spread faster. He would give her some antibiotics but of course that doesn't actually cure her. Eventually she's gonna get worse. She would have a harder time breathing because the disease has spread on to her lungs. It would probably spread up to her brain. That made my heart stopped beating for a moment. He said we have to be prepared. He told me that some people who have lung cancer are given 3- 6 months. But sometimes those who have breast cancer fared better, they sometimes live longer even if it has spread to other organs. But then it could be shorter. I don't kow if he was humoring me. After all the grim possibilities he enumerated, he's telling me something else. I think he was just trying to make us all feel better. But I feel worse. Just hearing him say it is enough to make me want to scream in frustration. So this is the death sentence. This is how long we've got her. Time would not stop still. It never did. Only a miracle would put an end to it, but none has been forthcoming. There is no silver lining at the end of this dark cloud - only more rain, more thunder, more lightning. No rainbow. Nothing. He wanted to know our expectations (again)...I don't know what to say... After all, what he just laid out to me makes everything in my future look bleak.

I told him we plan to take her home as soon as she is stable. We would get her an oxygen tank. If what happened on Sunday happens again, we will bring her back to the hospital. She is my mother, I have to try.

Last Wednesday, I spent the entire day lying on the hospital bed with my mom but made myself scarce that night. I don't want to see the doctor again. He's very nice compared to the other doctors but our conversations are very traumatizing. Often times I wanted to say something cheeky but held myself back. The doctor who diagnosed her illness was such a Bitch. She was the reason my mom wouldn't even consider chemotherapy. She cares for nothing but money. Unfortunately she's the only oncologist in Naga. I wanted to tell one of my cousins to go to Medical school and specialize in oncology, just so she would have competition. If I could I would, just to spite her. Bitch...

My hermano was so traumatize by the experience of talking to her that he told me he was unable to sleep nor eat well for the next few weeks. He could barely taste what he is eating. He told me he can't believe she's a doctor, maybe she failed psychology...

That night, out of the blue my brother remarked that mom has always made sacrifices for us. We both fell silent. She would wake up early every morning at 4.30 without fail and would be washing our clothes. By the time we get up, she's half done. Breakfast would be on the table. Our lunch would also be prepared by then, ready to be eaten when we get home from school for lunch. Each of us would have our own glass of milk. Ever since I was little I would always wake up to a glass of milk on the table, on my own mug. She bought each of us our own mugs. We never drink on someone else's mug. By 7 o'clock she would be on her way to her office. My brother stood up and left. I sat there and wept.

All those sacrifices, made her like this. I feel guilty, I wished I had helped her more, wake up early to do laundry. She would dismissed it and say we have to go to school. She did it because she wanted to. I can't help but cry. You are so good Mama. I don't understand why this has to happen to you. She would despair she can't do work anymore, not even to sweep the floor or bathe herself. She spend her days sitting on her bed. I told her it is time we serve you mom. I still can't bear to see her crying.

Today, a nurse took another blood sample. There was no place on both of her arms where she can draw blood because almost every place have been pierced, so the nurse drew it from her left hand. The spot where her needle went through swelled. I looked at the places where the needles pierced through her skin, they were covered in bruises some bigger than a Php 10 coin. I could not stop the tears that fell hotly down my face. I buried my head on my mom's shoulder and wept like a baby. She rubbed my arms and held my hands all the while. She said that is how life is. I don't find that comforting...

january 19, 2007

I will be going back to manila tonight. I hope I don't cry when I leave tonight. I don't want to depress my mom any further. If I cry, I know she will cry too. She will be going out of the hospital tomorrow after a surgeon checks her wound. She would count days on her bed.

I will go back to the rat race and play my role...

january 22, 2007

The pink pages never met the envelope. Maybe when I'm braver I will write the words in ink...

If you're reading this, then I had enough courage to push the publish button...

still down under,

V.

"Contrary to popular belief, time can't heal the deepest wounds. And wisdom is a slave to pain."- Methos