I can’t sleep.
I’m actually doing several things at once.
- Talking to a prospect regarding certain subdivision projects in the city (#PartTimeBrokerThings).
- Chatting with my workmates and commiserating over problems (which almost always arise on Thursdays).
- Reading my latest Kindle purchase (I need to limit my purchases).
- Watching an episode of On the Wings of Love (for the first time – didn’t get to focus on it, too bad).
- Making sure every single door at home is locked (#OCDproblems).
- Accepting Duterte’s decision (whatever it is).
- Looking for that piece of chocolate I swear they didn’t discover yet (it was bought just this afternoon).
- Regretting drinking that cup of coffee earlier (I don’t even drink coffee).
- Blogging (obviously).
And waiting for Mama’s call regarding Papa’s condition in the hospital.
Just a couple of hours earlier, we had to take my father to the hospital because we think his creatinine levels have gone higher. It is already high, way higher than normal, and he had been taking meds not to lower it (because, according to the doctor, it would be too difficult to lower) but to maintain it. He had been taking maybe 10-15 pills per meal for several weeks. And during their last checkup a couple of weeks ago, despite his diet and religious intake of meds, his creatinine level went even higher. It had several complications as well: hemoglobin, blood pressure, etc. Thus, his doctor had to increase his medicine dosage.
Because of this, they felt a little bit discouraged and honestly afraid of the number of pills that Papa has to take each day. Because of this, they sought the help of a known alternative medicine program in the country.
My mother always consults me whenever she needs to make major decisions — although I don’t always have it my way (lol). From Day 1, I warned them against total detox programs. However, I agreed to this alternative medicine because I thought this will just be herbal supplements like tea. Imagine my surprise when they brought home a package full of organic stuff, vitamins, protein powder, etc. The small package costs P10,000. They looked harmless but then Papa lost his appetite and his gout got so bad he couldn’t move his limbs.
He has been bedridden for more than 1 week. He can barely move. His knees and legs always ache so badly, and just this night, his arms were in so much pain as well. To illustrate how painful it is, Yuri accidentally touched his arm lightly and Papa cringed in pain. Later, he complained his nape was also aching. He has a history of stroke, so Mama and I decided to take him to the hospital.
Well, Mama, our village Pres. (a close family friend), and some neighbours accompanied him to the hospital. Ang dami nila, no. Reason is that Pres insisted on driving them to the hospital even though we could have waited for a 911 ambulance. So he, who has medical background, and several members of our youth org, carried Papa from our bedroom into the car. I had to stay to take care of Yuri and the house.
Thank God for friends.
My sister has school tomorrow and I have no idea what she usually does to prepare in the mornings. Good thing Michelle, our helper, knows what to do.
Thank God, thank God we have a reliable helper now.
It’s been almost 3 hours since they left, and I haven’t received any update yet. Knowing Mama, she’ll probably call me tomorrow to not interrupt Yuri’s or my sleep. And she doesn’t want me to worry. I remember, 9 years ago, Papa had stroke on a Tuesday night and I only knew about it when I went home that Friday. I was staying in my dorm in UP and she didn’t let me know although we were constantly texting.
Imagine, I even bought marang fruit to take home (it was in season then and fruits were sold everywhere in the campus), and she texted me to go to DMSF (Davao Medical School Foundation) instead. I knew, of course, that something was wrong, but she wouldn’t tell me while I was still travelling. I was already on the way, so I couldn’t return my marang which was not allowed in hospitals. I had to leave it in the baggage counter by the hospital entrance – mildy embarassing. It was only when I found their room when I found out Papa had a major stroke. He didn’t recognise me and kept calling me Maricel, the name of my cousin.
My mother took care of everything and didn’t even give me a hint. That’s just the way Mama is.
Okay I’m distracting myself.
Oh God, I pray Papa’s fine.
(Forgive me if there are grammatical mistakes; I don’t have time or energy to edit.)
UPDATE: I just received an update from my mother. Papa will be undergoing the very thing we have been avoiding for months: dialysis.