Grateful

I have never been seriously ill my whole life, until recently. For three years, I know that I have a health condition that I have to address. It sent me to the hospital for a consultation with doctors, some examinations and medicines to take when pain becomes unbearable. But in the last quarter of this year, I realized that I could not ignore it anymore for there is blood involved on it now. Only a surgery can get rid of it entirely and prevent it from getting worse.

So in the middle of September, I decided to consult a surgeon in The Medical City. I undergone a diagnostic procedure and I submitted the result to my office as a basis of my month-long sick leave. Of course it was granted and the admin also helped me complete my PhilHealth requirements. It was sad to say goodbye to my work even though it is only temporarily because I will miss my colleagues and students. But I have to take a break from my routine to pay attention to my fragile health; I will be back on December anyway.

My surgery was supposed to be on the last week of October. But it has to be postponed because I caught bad colds and I got my period earlier than expected. After the holiday, I visited my surgeon to finally schedule it. I was advised to be admitted in the hospital that same night, November 2 and have my operation tomorrow at 12 noon. I felt relieved to finally have that dreaded surgery; there is no turning back now.

My close friends and colleagues asked me what was wrong with me. They were curious about it and concerned about me. Though I did not directly tell them what it is. I just told them that there is something that should be removed in my ‘digestive area’. But I assured them that it is nothing serious and it will just be a minor surgery.

The funny thing was that the admitting clerk in The Medical City was someone that I know. So much for being secretive about my condition. Though I am not a bit worried about it because for sure she has a strong work ethic and there is a protocol of being tactful about their patients. Anyway, it was a Sienan who welcomed me in the hospital, that was why she looked really familiar. She was still very pretty; she was our muse in our first year in high school. She was so formal in our transaction and I can’t get myself to acknowledge her. But she was indeed excellent in her job and seeing her there is like a good sign that everything will be all right.

I was satisfied with my appointed room. It was very spacious, with a fridge, cable TV and nice view of Ortigas Center. My mom was pretty impressed with the washroom, particularly with the toilet bowl with a built-in washer. My sister commented that it was like a hotel room. I agree that it is, but I don’t want to stay there for a long time and I made a commitment to myself that I will be out of there on Friday.

The first reign of terror in the hospital was putting the IV on me. The staff nurse tried to put it but my vein was suppose to be thin and therefore difficult to put the dreaded needle on it. She called the 27 year old doctor, who by the way was beautiful, to successfully install the IV on my right hand. It was a torture; I thought getting a blood sample would be the worst. But I really like this lady resident doctor because she was calm and collected also when she explained to me the risks of sticking a local, regional anesthesia on my spine which will temporarily paralyze the lower part of my anatomy. Another resident male doctor with dashing eyelashes discussed the risks of my procedure but I was only half listening as I was deciding how unfair it is that he has mile long eyelashes and he is also a doctor to boot. They made me sign a consent paper and I can’t help but remember medical malpractices reported on the news but it was easy to bring myself to trust them completely.

I only had a nap before it dawned. I had the same feeling when I took the LET years ago. I was eager to get it done. When two nurses with a strolling bed announced that it was time to go to the OR, I would happily hoped on the bed if there is no IV to constrict me. But as the door of the Operating Room enclosed me without my parents whose last words were “Magdasal ka.”, I realized those scenes in my favorite medical drama, House M.D. is not that fun and entertaining in real life. I was put in the Prep room with other patients whose sound of their monitored heartbeats started to get into my nerves, I felt lonely and desolate. The nurse gave me half a tablet to help me relax and together with the chilly aircon, made my stomach rumble. Good thing it was effective, I was like half drunk when I was finally in the Operating Room. I can hear what was going on, but I did not have the energy to care to understand it. I was praying because I know that everything is out of my hands, I can only pray that I can get through this safely.

“Tapos na,” the nurse whispered to me. I was numb when I was put in the Recovery room. I was so sleepy but I told the nurse to tell my parents that I am out from the OR and she nodded. I can’t feel my legs, but I was not worried because I know that the anesthesia will soon wear off. I think I had a nap and soon enough I was able to move my legs. So the doctor decided that I can go back to my room again.

My family was there waiting for me, I smiled weakly, I was happy to see them again. I had a terrible headache and stomachache, I felt like I was drowning lying flat on my bed and I was shivering like crazy that night. I just slept through it, hoping that I will be so much better tomorrow.

I know that the worst was over that Thursday. My vital signs were normal and I get to finally eat home cooked meals by my dad. I was also delighted that Ninang Mely, Tita Olga and cousins Joan and Hiro visited me. To my relief the dressing on my wound and the IV on my hand were removed. I felt stronger and confident that I can really be discharged from the hospital right on schedule. I even watched my favorite TV shows, Gossip Girls and America’s Next Top Model that midnight. It was difficult to sleep because that was the time the weight of the past days hit me. I realized how blessed I am.

I was also thankful that my HMO, Medocare and PhilHealth paid my hospital bills.
I just shuddered at the fact that my four-day stay in The Medical City could wipe out my hard earned savings in the bank. So on November 5, Friday, my family and I had the clearance from the doctors and the hospital to finally go home. The nurse told us about the superstition not to look back at the room so that we won’t need to be back in the hospital again. Not wanting to take any chances, I just focused on my way out to the elevator, with only one goal in mind: to have a speedy and full recovery at the comfort of my home.