I have just spent my hard-earned semestral break confined in a dingy hospital room. It sucked big time! I did not take a bath for six days straight and the nurses (even though they were very nice and cute) kept popping up at the most importune moments. The only good thing that happened during my stay was: the room was airconditioned and it was cool even though I am feverish at times, the food people whom visit me brings like cake, and cable TV so I was able to watch "From Dusk Till Dawn" even if the TV was small and almost three feet away from me....
Anyway, I was diagnosed with Pneumonia, and get this, I had Typhoid Fever at the same time! Talk about coincidence. Did you know that its my first time, since infancy, to be confined in a hospital? Yeah, so during the first day when they placed the dextrose and got blood, I watched very closely... It was quite fascinating. Now, I have a damaged lung, specifically a right-lower lobe damaged lung. I have a weak immune system and when I say weak, I mean WEAK! I cough up blood and my vveins hurt, coz they had to transfer my dextrose. I was very "makulit" and I kept rolling around the bed, now the dextrose was attached on my left hand so that I can still function but shit happened and they had to reattach it this time on my right hand.
What really bugged me about my room was the view. I was on the sixth floor and I had wide windows but when you open the curtains what you see is not a spectacular view but Jake Cuenca's nude body! Who the hell wants to see Jae Cuenca's nude body?! I know I don't! Well, that's sort of the short of my week long stay at the hospital. I hope I won't experience any repeat of it. Ever. Again. Never Ever.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
Depression
I am feeling under the weather today, so I unearthed this story and decided to post it. It is a tribute to my very wonderful and good Nanay. Love you, Nay!
The hardest day of my life, for me, was the day that my grandmother left me. She went along with death and played a cruel joke on little ‘ole me. She passed away last August 2006.
I watched over my ailing Nanay for quite a few weeks when she was still confined at the hospital. It was a bitter sweet memory. I’ve never felt so helpless before, watching her past away, fade within my reach. The UST charity ward was hell on earth for those weeks.
She had diabetes and other complications developed such as kidney failure and heart disease. She and my grandfather were living in Cavite, due to our busy lives in metro manila and lack of money, we were never always there to visit them. At least, we try to go there once a month.
The first time I visited her in the hospital, the stench of wet diapers, unwashed hair and Lysol air freshener hit me with a force. As I entered the ward, I was easily taken aback by the sight of my grandmother lying on the bed wasting away like the other people in that ward. When I neared the bed, she opened her eyes and talked to me about her blood pressure. I was slightly fazed because of the topic but I though she just wanted to talk. She mistook me for a doctor. It was because of the amount of medicine she intakes, it degenerates her memory. She can’t even remember her oldest grand daughter! She looked so pale and gaunt. Her body is so weak that she can’t even lift her arm nor sit on her own. When I told her it was me Nerissa, her grand daughter, she laughed. She said that it’s been so long since we last saw each other. I nearly cried then and there. I’ve felt so foolish and guilty for not being always there, I just can’t bear to see my once always joyous, vibrant and boisterous grandmother wither away like a candle. When she awoke, the twinkle I always find in her eyes was gone. It was like a shell of something then. I couldn’t help myself but to hug and cries with her while whispering “I love you Nanay.” After school, I’d go to the hospital and watch her. I’d sit by her side and read some magazines, ape with her and mostly talk with my beloved grandmother. During those times, I felt so happy because I get to spend time with her and the flicker of hope in my heart burns steadily. Even though there is a feeling of dread for the inevitable in my mind, my heart held on. Miracles do happen, don’t they, if you’d just believe.
She died on August 25 at exactly 9:00 am. I was in school then, enjoying and laughing off with my friends in the canteen. I was thinking that this is the life, being young and carefree. After school, I happily walked along the road to the hospital thinking of the funny incident I just saw ion the road. The moment I got there, I saw my mother coming down the stairs. I just waved at her and she smiled while motioning for me to go up. I went inside the ward and saw the bed empty with our things packed. I desperately held on to the belief that everything was just well and we were to come home but then I realized that there were tears in my eyes and everyone else’s; a grief of tide overwhelmed me. My grandmother, a mother, a lover, a daughter of the Lord is gone. Death came swiftly piercing through the night. Death was the thief that stealthily got by the wall I built to protect her, my Nanay. She is gone. Forever. For the first time in years, I cried. I cried my heart out. I cried till my tears run dry. I cried ‘till I can’t cry no more.
I pray everyday for the soul of my Nanay. I believe that she will always guide us wherever we will be. There was a point in my life that I had a break down. I replaced the emotional pain that I was feeling with another kind of pain; physical pain. Only my closest friends know what I can do with the blade and syringes I have stacked up. But then I realized that Nanay wouldn’t want that. She wouldn’t want that. I love my grandmother that sometimes it just hurts so much to go on with life and always smile. It’s hard to go on knowing that the one you love wouldn’t be there anymore to share with your laughter, tears and victories. I hope that in time, I’ll learn to let go. I hope.
The hardest day of my life, for me, was the day that my grandmother left me. She went along with death and played a cruel joke on little ‘ole me. She passed away last August 2006.
I watched over my ailing Nanay for quite a few weeks when she was still confined at the hospital. It was a bitter sweet memory. I’ve never felt so helpless before, watching her past away, fade within my reach. The UST charity ward was hell on earth for those weeks.
She had diabetes and other complications developed such as kidney failure and heart disease. She and my grandfather were living in Cavite, due to our busy lives in metro manila and lack of money, we were never always there to visit them. At least, we try to go there once a month.
The first time I visited her in the hospital, the stench of wet diapers, unwashed hair and Lysol air freshener hit me with a force. As I entered the ward, I was easily taken aback by the sight of my grandmother lying on the bed wasting away like the other people in that ward. When I neared the bed, she opened her eyes and talked to me about her blood pressure. I was slightly fazed because of the topic but I though she just wanted to talk. She mistook me for a doctor. It was because of the amount of medicine she intakes, it degenerates her memory. She can’t even remember her oldest grand daughter! She looked so pale and gaunt. Her body is so weak that she can’t even lift her arm nor sit on her own. When I told her it was me Nerissa, her grand daughter, she laughed. She said that it’s been so long since we last saw each other. I nearly cried then and there. I’ve felt so foolish and guilty for not being always there, I just can’t bear to see my once always joyous, vibrant and boisterous grandmother wither away like a candle. When she awoke, the twinkle I always find in her eyes was gone. It was like a shell of something then. I couldn’t help myself but to hug and cries with her while whispering “I love you Nanay.” After school, I’d go to the hospital and watch her. I’d sit by her side and read some magazines, ape with her and mostly talk with my beloved grandmother. During those times, I felt so happy because I get to spend time with her and the flicker of hope in my heart burns steadily. Even though there is a feeling of dread for the inevitable in my mind, my heart held on. Miracles do happen, don’t they, if you’d just believe.
She died on August 25 at exactly 9:00 am. I was in school then, enjoying and laughing off with my friends in the canteen. I was thinking that this is the life, being young and carefree. After school, I happily walked along the road to the hospital thinking of the funny incident I just saw ion the road. The moment I got there, I saw my mother coming down the stairs. I just waved at her and she smiled while motioning for me to go up. I went inside the ward and saw the bed empty with our things packed. I desperately held on to the belief that everything was just well and we were to come home but then I realized that there were tears in my eyes and everyone else’s; a grief of tide overwhelmed me. My grandmother, a mother, a lover, a daughter of the Lord is gone. Death came swiftly piercing through the night. Death was the thief that stealthily got by the wall I built to protect her, my Nanay. She is gone. Forever. For the first time in years, I cried. I cried my heart out. I cried till my tears run dry. I cried ‘till I can’t cry no more.
I pray everyday for the soul of my Nanay. I believe that she will always guide us wherever we will be. There was a point in my life that I had a break down. I replaced the emotional pain that I was feeling with another kind of pain; physical pain. Only my closest friends know what I can do with the blade and syringes I have stacked up. But then I realized that Nanay wouldn’t want that. She wouldn’t want that. I love my grandmother that sometimes it just hurts so much to go on with life and always smile. It’s hard to go on knowing that the one you love wouldn’t be there anymore to share with your laughter, tears and victories. I hope that in time, I’ll learn to let go. I hope.
Bebop!
If I would describe my life, I would describe it as Aziraphale described Crowley’s music collection – bebop. Ha! You heard it right. My life is bebop, not a very classical definition, is it? What is bebop anyway? Why do I describe my life as thus? Is it mundane? Is it modern? Is it rubbish? Or is it a new-age thing? Do I really know what the word bebop means?
I am very sick today, as in off my rockers sick and yet I woke up early to take the La Salle test… Masochism at its best. I am not a very particular person, from my looks down to my hobbies; I do not exude that aura which calls attention to moi. I am just a normal kid with eccentric qualities but then again being normal means being unique and once again my argument, unique is a euphemism weird and if everyone is unique in his or her own way then my friends we are all freaks. Once I went to a university where I met this very loud and bright individual, I forgot his name but he was quite easy to remember for one, he was hot and second, he was a gay majoring in Communications (Public Speaking). Yeh! My kind of good old fashioned lover boy. Anyway, he was talking to our tour guide and then he heard me ranting about people and their abhorrence for everything weird which was hypocrital since they are weird in their own way. So, when he heard me, he went to me and got my hand and congratulated me, he said and I quote,”I like this girl! Ano number mo?” Hah! I am a gay magnet! Go me!!! Sadly, after that rendezvous, I never got to meet him again…
Back to bebop. What is bebop anyway? Aziraphale knows, Crowley knows, I don’t know. Hahahaha… I am such a weirdo, go me, I am being a human!
I am very sick today, as in off my rockers sick and yet I woke up early to take the La Salle test… Masochism at its best. I am not a very particular person, from my looks down to my hobbies; I do not exude that aura which calls attention to moi. I am just a normal kid with eccentric qualities but then again being normal means being unique and once again my argument, unique is a euphemism weird and if everyone is unique in his or her own way then my friends we are all freaks. Once I went to a university where I met this very loud and bright individual, I forgot his name but he was quite easy to remember for one, he was hot and second, he was a gay majoring in Communications (Public Speaking). Yeh! My kind of good old fashioned lover boy. Anyway, he was talking to our tour guide and then he heard me ranting about people and their abhorrence for everything weird which was hypocrital since they are weird in their own way. So, when he heard me, he went to me and got my hand and congratulated me, he said and I quote,”I like this girl! Ano number mo?” Hah! I am a gay magnet! Go me!!! Sadly, after that rendezvous, I never got to meet him again…
Back to bebop. What is bebop anyway? Aziraphale knows, Crowley knows, I don’t know. Hahahaha… I am such a weirdo, go me, I am being a human!
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