Feb 11, 2008

Yami Decides To Die

I woke up feeling a familiar pain. My mind rushed in panic as I lay on my back afraid to increase my suffering by any slight movement. My head was throbbing maniacally in pain, my stomach felt hollow making me nauseaus and my spinal column is numb and unfeeling.

I stared at the ceiling silently and for a moment was disoriented trying to recall where I was. The dim light from the lamp shade at the corner of the room brought me to full consciousness. I'm still in my friend's farm communing with horses and their dung, full moons and fresh air, enjoying the silence, latin music and my solitude.

I reached for the phone beside me realizing in horror that I needed help but changed my mind when my hand was in mid-air. It was such a bad idea to raise the alarm at three in the morning. Few hours to dawn... I could last that long...

Unmoving, I went back to staring at the ceiling. The last time I felt the pain was a litte less than a decade ago. Severe headache, nausea and vomiting, double vision, paralysis on one side of my face and good deal many others I can't now exactly recall. When my CT Scan and MRI's result came in, the doctors found a tumor somewhere in my pretty head and decided for a surgery that lasted more than seven hours. My family and my best friend were in my bedside and we celebrated Christmas together in my hospital room with my head wrapped in bandage as if it was God's gift to my family and my arm attached to a tube through a needle inserted in my vein as if trying to reassure my family that I was not going anywhere.

Our Christmas in 1998 was both merry and hopeful. While I got to get a new lease on life, our family overcame yet another major blow. Five years earlier, my father suddenly died of heart attack and our loss was too big it seemed there was no way of letting go. The void was just too big to fill. Imagine my family's anxiety and fear when another member's life is threatened. I cannot fully account how we faced our angers and fears during that time. But individually, it made us better and stronger persons. Collectively, it strengthened the tie that binds us as a family. Spiritually, God became our pillar, our strength, our hope.

After the surgery, my life changed drastically. The surgery left me handicapped for the rest of my life (although, my impairment is not obvious, in fact only my family knows about it and some of my closest friends suspect it!), my movements and activity were limited, my diet is restricted plus, I needed to get my monthly lifetime shots of Penador to keep my heart from being invaded by bacteria. I was diagnosed with RHD when I was 18.

For years I lived a boring patient's life until the day I decided to live my life the way I wanted to. First, I stopped my monthly injections. I enrolled in a gym, lifted weights, climbed mountains and walls, swim, snorkel and dive. I ate with gusto in every fine dining restaurants I can afford, I lined in fast foods and ate in sidewalks. I drink every single drop of edible liquids hard or soft. I attended at least 5 colleges and universities that sometimes I'd think these schools will fight on who got the claim as my Alma Mater should I become as accomplished as Hilary Clinton or as successful as Frank McCourt! Hahahahaha! As if my time is running out, I juggled two different jobs while I attended law school at night. I was suicidal. I am free. I am alive.

I realized that part of being alive is to defy the law of gravity, to ignore the law of supply and demand, to forget the norms. My life started when I pursue happiness. In the pursuit of happiness, my heart takes the lead role, not science, not culture, not social norms.

My symptoms are back after a little less than a decade since it disappeared. This time it's worse. I tended to confuse faces with names, I slur frequently than before, my right hands shakes involuntarily from time to time. All these I noticed as I lay on my back feeling the severe pain on my head. In the dark, I crawled in search of my medicines. I sighed as I gulped it and realized I haven't been taking meds for years now.

As soon as my meds were doing its work, I felt my strength draining out of me. In the last moments that I was awake, I smiled and said to myself: "As soon as the dawn is over, I'll make myself a steamy and creamy coffee and read the day's newspapers with latin music playing...."

About the title? I really decided to die - 100 years from now. Between now and the last day of the one hundred years? My good friend up above will make the decision for me. If He can't make up His mind after 100 years from now, I'll take the matter in my hands. Good deal.

Today is Our Lady of Lourdes Feast Day. I couldn't thank Her good enough for keeping my health well all these years.

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