The news came as a shock to us all. He who had been ill for days had been taken to the hospital. It was found out that he had very high amount of creatinine in his blood, resulting from a stone in one of his kidneys. Creatinine is a liquid waste. It causes slow blood circulation, making even breathing difficult. While the normal amount of creatinine in our body is 1.5%, he had 23.3% of it. He had assured us it was only a frustrating duo of ulcer and bronchitis so no one thought it was a kidney problem, which I only used to hear about from other people's sob stories but never thought would happen to my own flesh and blood- my father. A tube was inserted into my father's body to start the perritonial dialysis. The nurse had warned it would be painful because the anesthesia would not reach the innermost part of his body. Still, I was shaken to hear his tortured scream as the nurse punctured his abdomen. For days my father struggled with a tremble to move a muscle or to eat without vomiting the food out. He couldn't seem to swallow anything down his throat. My fatherwhom I neglected while others longed for a paternal presence in their homesoh, how I had wronged him! For the first time, my siblings and I showed how we truly felt, even humbling down to our knees to pray and beg God, in the midst of weeping and yesrunning noses, to show us mercy. It was quite a scenesure beats "Maalaala Mo Kaya". Friends became out of reach, or perhaps it was me who was withdrawing from them. In their absence, strangers and people I hadn't heard for years came pouring in to help. It took great effort to focus at work but like a puppet I moved on, not daring to disturb normalcy. Somehow I had kept myself from bawling for moping could not help my father. Our prayers and (this will sound corny as hell) love have done wonders to my father although he still has to undergo hemodialysis. Now he could even make faces at us. Funny how he tries to make us smile in the face of grief. My siblings and I have become closer than ever. And the realization that our parents had raised us well dawned in. In this hell we are going through, we've found a little heaven. Indeed I had a lot to thank God for. He had allowed us the pain that has shaken us to the core. But a pain meant to heal us spiritually and emotionally, a pain that has brought with it people we could count on. Sigh, God's mysterious ways! Only now have I heeded to the good ol' saying romantics often chided to me: Always take the chance of showing that you care, for you never know when that chance would be taken away from you. Thank God, I still have that chance. |
