i create. i am a creation.


Posted on: October 1, 2014

My daughter (the younger of the twins) was once again confined in the hospital in August due to a severe bronchial asthma attack. We were admitted at 5 am and the only available bed in the pediatric wing was in the ward. I say that was fine since the hospital was expensive and their semi-private and ward rooms (four in a room) aren’t really that bad.

Yeah, you get to share the room, have to put up with the noise of others and you have to share the bathroom. But that set-up was interesting for a journalist like me since I get to hear about the stories of each patient.

One of the stories that struck me was that of A.

A is a four-year-old brain cancer survivor. Brain cancer. It is one of the most painful cancers out there according to an article I’ve read years ago. And here was A, with stitches on his head, enduring one of the most painful things the physical world can offer.

His mother told me he was diagnosed at age 2.5 after he complained of a debilitating pain at the back of his head. There was a lump and it turned out to be cancerous. She said her son went through all the treatments and therapies available. He used to be a chubby kid, his mom said, but looking at him now, A has been reduced to almost skin and bones.

But still his mother is very generous with her smiles. She talks as if what she and her son went through was just as simple as having his tonsils removed.

“Halos dito na nga yan lumaki. Dito na sya nagbirthday,” A’s mother told me, with a catch in her voice.

Fighting for her son’s life is not cheap. Their finances, as expected, suffered to the point that they are now a charity case of this well-known hospital. She diligently queues up at PCSO for aid. Her older daughter stopped going to school to ease the financial burden and to help in taking care of A.

What this mother and child went through is something I hope I will never go through myself. I salute their courage and strength.

God bless them.

A’s mom said her son used to sing and dance like my little girl, before he was diagnosed. There were no tears in her eyes. Her voice was not breaking. Probably she had shed enough. Probably she has already lost her voice a thousand times. Here she was, she was talking to me in a voice that tells me her son will soon learn how to walk again. Brain cancer has weakened his leg muscles since he spent most of his time in bed.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

life in business journalism

crazy. exciting. boring to some but hey, you get to understand the world better when you're a business journalist. you learn to be patient with tons of documents, make sense of numbers and charts. all geeky stuff. this is my story, behind the scenes.
October 2014
« Aug   Dec »
%d bloggers like this: