It is almost a month now that my mom has been confined at the hospital. An aggressive bacteria called Pseudomonas aeruginosa caused the pneumonia that gave her the acute respiratory failure status. 2 weeks at the medical intensive care unit and another two weeks at the recovery ward.
Life in the hospital. The fast-paced lives lived in and out of the wards, rooms and halls. The fast-paced moments when a loved one is in critical care and the blue lights are blinking ferociously signifying code blue.
These are some of my gathered thoughts and observations.. a quiet ruminations of our lives at the hospital during the longest confinement of my mom.
- Waking up outside my mom’s ICU room to a loud grateful voice “ang bait talaga ni Lord!” from an ex-military man whose son, 22 years of age, was operated on to fix the valve in his heart. The surgery was very successful and about 30 college-kids cramped to see him wave at his friends. He prepared a romantic small sign that said “ang bagong puso ko ay tumitibok lamang para kay…..” (my new heart beats only for….) much to the delight and shrieks of his female friends.
- I engaged in a conversation a father and a daughter who lovingly waited for the wife and mom to recover from her heart surgery. They came from Bataan and took her to the hospital in the midst of the storm. They lost huge amount of money when their rice fields were flooded by the storm waters. I will not forget the face of this 27-year old daughter whose voice reflected the fortitude that can easily be lost in the challenges, when she said “Basta gumaling si Nanay.. makakarecover din tayo…”
- I will always remember the face of this young couple who held hands through the night as they waited for their 1.5year old who had heart surgery. I quietly prayed for them and I offered the bench to the young mother and she reluctantly agreed to use the bench for her bed as I chatted with the young father until about 3am.
- My heart sank with the statement of Gboy when he sat on their bench outside their mother’s ICU room and said “we are back to zero.. we were not able to afford her dialysis for 2 days.. and now we are back to zero…” I saw the resignation on his face. The momentary defeat and surrender until his father showed up. I saw him put on a brave smile and told his father “lumalaban si Nanay”! I understood what he was trying to do. He was acting bravely so that his father would not lose hope.
- They lost their mother sunday before my birthday. I was with them – I heard the news from another new friend and I rushed to the ICU. Maina just lost their mother and when I walked in the ICU room (our mothers were roommates) the nurses were taking off the tubes from her mom’s body. They agonized over the decision to stop all the medical test and treatment. Her mother had been unresponsive in a coma-like stance. It was time to go. After waiting for 8 hours or so, she flatlined and she sent me a text “wala na si Nanay…”
- I was just sitting with them outside the ICU room when the doctor next door went outside and said “please hurry and make a decision… we need to intubate her…” GBoy’s family fearfully huddled together and a decision was made to allow the doctors to do what she was requesting. Their mother did not survive it. Her blood pressure was steadily going down and the intubation (right in the midst of her dialysis) was simply too much and her heart gave way. Within the hour, two of my new friends lost their mothers.
- I sat there with GBoy as he started sorting the medicines he just brought that afternoon from Mercury Drugstore in V.Luna. I was there with him and was buying medicines for my mom when I bumped into him. I offered him a ride and he hesitated a bit because he would take a little longer at the counter. My brother and I waited for him with his brother-in law. The drive back to the hospital was less than 10mins. but it could have been an hour because of the silence. We were all brothers – fighting for the lives of our mothers. At past 8 that evening, Gboy was sorting the medicines as he would try to have them changed for the medicines of his father. It started to rain hard and I offered to give him a ride.
- I sat and talked with Maina as she struggled whether to let her mother go off the respirator. I just listened and wondered how it was to go through all that. To look at your mother attached to all those tubes and monitors with threatening alarms… to pack her things knowing that you are putting them away permanently in this lifetime.
- I prayed for a young wife waiting right next to me at the cashier one lonely sunday afternoon. I asked what was happening with her patient and she replied “stroke” and I nodded to indicate that I was aware of what they were going through. “Your father?” I asked. She said, “my husband…he is 29 years old and we celebrated our first wedding anniversary right here at the Neuro Intensive Care Unit..” I silently prayed for her as she walked away. A young bride suddenly being forced to look at possible widow-hood if things were to grow worse. God bless that young couple and give them many more years.
-Walking toward the elevator, I bumped into an old man being wheeled by a younger man. I gave them a nod and a smile as I noticed the long scar on his chest. He had bypass surgery. I chatted with the young man as we were waiting at the cashier. I asked him how much their bill was and he lowered his head and quietly said “1.5million pesos”
- I stood next to a father who spent more than P100K in coming here to Manila from Negros Oriental. Someone promised to sponsor the heart surgery of his 36-year old son. He was being prepped for the surgery when the sponsor called and said he could no longer afford it. The hope that was denied – that was the tone of his voice when this father said “pero at least, ngayon alam ko na ang pasikot sikot na sakit sa puso ng anak ko…”
- “Inaayos na po” was the quiet answer of a woman whose mother was sent back to the ICU. Her mother was right next to my mom’s in Petal D. I was the night watcher when the nurses prepped her mother and took her back to the ICU. The following day, another patient-watcher explained to me “inaayos na po” meant that the patient had passed hours after she was taken back to the ICU. I wished I understood what she meant when she said those words… I thought she was going to be okay and I remember giving her a faint smile and nod when she said those words.
- From where I sat and from where I stood I have seen so many people cry. Those crying because of the shock at seeing a loved one who had become so unrecognizable in their sickness or those crying because they had just lost a loved one. I had seen and heard cries in the middle of the night – in some quiet and lonely corridors as watchers describe what was happening to their loved ones… as they called relatives from overseas, perhaps a son or a daughter who was about to come home to find that their loved ones could not wait for their arrival.
- I had seen and experienced the dedication of the nurses and my heart swelled with pride as I had seen their conscious and diligent work in taking care of the sick and the dying.
- Of the guards who would no longer take my ID cards for scanning because “Sir araw araw na kayo nandito.. ang tagal po makarecover ng patient ninyo…” and I detected a tinge of genuine compassion in his voice as I passed by.
- I wondered at how it feels like to simply write a check for P180K as this chinese yuppie paid for his father’s updated bill. His mother was just quietly waiting and I noticed how she was dressed in expensive clothes. In one signature, the balance on their bill was all paid for…and I wondered how it would feel to do just that…
- Sitting by the Pulmonary lounge as I wait for my turn to be entertained, I heard an older woman mustering all the encouragement as she followed the gurney that was taking her husband to the MRI “go honey.. it’s going to be okay…”. Seconds later, I saw her wiping her eyes as she was coming out of the MRI section. A woman trying to be brave for a husband.
- I smiled at a family when a college-boy son offered to drive for his family. I saw the proud and pleased look of the father. It was a mini -Matthew 3:17 scenario as the father took out the car keys and handed them to his son. He nodded his head in a “sige mauna na kami” stance as the elevator door opened.
- I ate kakanin and had an emotional birthday prayer surrounded by family and friends – as they visited my Mom. They offered to have an office get-together for my birthday but I did not want to go anywhere else but by the side of someone whom God used to give me life. It was my first birthday in a hospital setting. I did not plan on being there a year ago.. but right next to my mom’s hospital bed was the best place to say thank you God for a brand new year.
- From where I sat I read sms sent to me. Others were very encouraging because they were heartfelt and personal. A couple from Palawan prayed with me while on the phone as they asked God to surround me with comfort and strength. To be surrounded by real friends in the midst of dire straits is a real blessing indeed.
- It is amazing that sometimes, the people you least expect to help would be there to help you in the long haul.
– Now I have a deeper appreciation of what Jesus meant when he said “If you had done these for the least of them.. you had done it for me..” Now I get it. It is because of his great love for those who cannot speak, those who cannot do anything, those who are infirmed, those who have been made weak… they are so loved by God, that He takes it personally as if done to HIM, any acts of love and compassion shown particularly to those who cannot pay it back.
- Every visit to my mom, every loving prayers uttered in her behalf, any loving thoughts, comments and sms… they were done with my mom as the main recipient. Because I love my mom very much, any act of kindness shown her, is an act of kindness shown personally to me. Now I understand what you were trying to say about that line.
- From where I stood along the corridor walls, I was shown a great example of compassion and fatherhood when i was visited by a Ninong. He called me up right at the exact moment when my world was spinning around. He was having a meeting at that time and spent a couple of minutes helping me sort out my options. He later came to the hospital with his sons and just asked how I was doing, showed genuine interest about the progress of my mom… for less than an hour, his non-anxious presence comforted me as I witnessed and affirmed him as a great example of fatherhood. On the way up, he noticed that I was calm about the whole situation. I told him that I was being asked to produce P289K in an hour and 15 minutes. I told him that such things would need a miracle and I am not a miracle worker..so I relaxed knowing that all these things are beyond what my physical hands could produce.
-Amazing how God can give us peace right in the midst of a turbulent storm.
- Amazing how hospitals can slow down the frenzy pace of our lives. Whereas before the hospitalizations, my weekends were all occupied and conferences were already scheduled. It was almost like an out-of-body experience as I heard and saw myself canceling my participation in those conferences. Amazing how the hospital experience can make you live in the moment and for the moment. You are now aware of the number of hours you have parked in the car, the next inhalation therapy, the next movement for my mom so her bedsore would ease up, her next blood extraction, her next cbc and all that…Life is to be lived not only through the plans for the future – but in the ordinariness of the moment and all that such precious little moment, can give.
- This hospital experience has made me more aware of the precious time we spend with our loved ones. That each moment is an opportunity to say how much we love them in words and deeds. To say “see you” in a positive affirmation and surrender as to when and how it would take place. With my mom’s condition and given the complexity of her bi-lateral stroke, every “bye Mommy” is a small, preparatory-goodbyes for what is inevitable for all of us. When we say ‘Bye Mommy” even though she could no longer respond, is also a way of saying thank you.. and expressing a heartful of grateful thoughts in a -2word loving expression.
From where I sat and from where I stood… even in the midst of the health and financial upheavals, through the thick and thin of crises we face… life is still very much full.
