Of sodas and sandbags
Photo by Ante Samarzija on Unsplash |
My mother, being the friendly person that she was, had made a handful of friends while she was confined in PGH. Amidst the stench of death across the ward, a sweet scent of humanity persisted. After all, we are all social beings, despite our physical afflictions. I’ve had made an acquaintance or two during that time.
One day while I was preparing to leave for work, a voice called from behind me. I turned and saw a gaunt woman in her 30s, seated on the bed next to us, nibbling on a pack of wafers.
“Mama mo?” she asked, looking at my mother.
“Opo,” I
answered politely.
“Gaano na
kayo katagal dito?”
“Mahigit
na pong dalawang buwan.”
“Anong
sakit ng mama mo?”
Back then
this was difficult for me to answer. We had been in the hospital for months on
end, but still there was no clear diagnosis for my mother’s condition.
“Hindi pa
po namin alam eh. Ina-alam pa po ng mga doctors niya.”
She went
silent for a moment until I asked her the same question.
“Kayo po?”
She
pointed at her enlarged feet.
“Namamanas
yung paa ko, kaka softdrinks ko kasi.”
She had
logs for feet. It looked like a pair of glossy sand bags hugging her calves.
“Mahilig
kasi ako sa softdrinks. Nakakarami din ako ng bote sa isang araw. Wala kasi
akong masyadong ginagawa sa bahay, kaya kain lang ako nang kain,” she added.
“Noong
isang araw pa kami sa ER. Pahirapan talagang makahanap ng bakanteng ward. Buti
nalang at naadmit akokaninang umaga dito.”
Tell me
about it, I thought.
“Gusto
mo?” she handed me a pack of biscuits lying beside her.
“Okay lang
po. Kakatapos ko lang pong kumain,” I refused awkwardly.
“Ano po ang
gagawin para magamot po yan?”
“Naghihintay
pa kami sa sasabihi ni doc. Kaso sabi niya baka kailanganin ko nang magpa
dialysis kung patuloy pa rin akog iinom ng softdrinks.”
She took a
few more deep breaths before continuing.
“Sa ngayon
iniinuman ko lang ng gamot. Titingnan nalang daw bukas kung um-okay.”
“Ahhh,” I
nodded.
“Baka mas
gumastos pa kami pag natuloy sa dialysis. Wala pa naman kaming pera para dun.”
“Sana nga
po hanggang gamutan lang po yang paa niyo,” I told her.
“Kaano-ano
niyo po yung bantay niyo?” I asked.
“Anak ng
kapitbahay namin. May katandaan na kasi nanay ko, di ako kayang samahan.”
“Asan na
po yung bantay niyo?”
“Nasa
labas, kumakain ng tanghalian.”
“Aalis ka
din ba?” she glanced at my backpack on the bed.
“Opo. May
trabaho pa po kasi ako.”
“San?”
“Sa Makati
po. Medyo malapit lang po dito. Isang sakay lang ng jeep.”
Striking a
conversation with a stranger in the hospital was a pleasant surprise. If I
didn’t have work that afternoon, I would have stayed and continued the
exchange. But as much as it was a welcomed distraction, a salaried diversion
was waiting for me in the office.
“Sige po,
alis na po ako. Pagaling po kayo,” I smiled at her as I left the ward.
When I
returned the next day, a new patient was sleeping next to mama’s bed. I
hope the medicines worked and they were sent home already.
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