Echo Zone
By Florence Hibionada

Thank You

I ‘struggled' for an appropriate title for this one. I began with “The Doctor is in” then reconsidered. I followed it with “Life begins not really at 40” and did the same, reconsidered. I also thought “No pain, no gain” but still, reconsidered until it hit me, two words, I only need two words. THANK YOU.

Thank you because life indeed is precious. I know that now after a week of hospital stay, and after a successful operation that I feel has given me my second lease on life.

In the past 36 years, I have led one that's practically “healthy” on a medical-sense. Meaning I am one who has not been sick with my hospital stay only during the two times I gave birth to my two wonderful children and that one in America when I lost my first one. I was rushed to Iloilo Doctors Hospital that Sunday morning after about 18 hours of stomach pain. I tried my hardest to bear the excruciating ache but it got to a point where I knew I needed more help. Tests were conducted the next day until I wastold they needed to take my gall-bladder out. And my liver was also not normal but could be treated by medication.

Take my gall-bladder out. For someone who has no intense liking to the field of medicine, I was immediately overwhelmed with a lot of emotions. I was scared, truly scared. I was also suddenly confused, very confused. I was dumbfounded, truly, very dumbfounded. And I was angry too though at that time I wasn't sure with whom and why. My doctor was most gracious and diplomatic in explaining to me what I had was something that cannot be cured by pills or even the highest in dosage of injectables. And sure I can bid for time but the complications are higher and risks bigger if I have to wait for the next attack and then decide on the operation. Call it the height of my stupidity but I managed to ask, “may I have a cigarette? I desperately need to smoke one right now.” Of course she said no and explained it would further the acid or something in me and trigger more pain or something like that. Plus, I would be violating hospital policies and probably thrown out if caught.

The next minutes came and went like puzzles to me. One piece after the other until I worked myself on the actual picture – I am sick and needed to be operated and I have to be in the hospital much longer than I ever thought of. I called on my doctor-best friend from way back in elementary days and there on she helped me decide. Turned out we have common friends who have become specialists themselves thus the free second, third and fourth opinions. I also got one from an ex-love who would have been most qualified to open me up but for highly ethical and personal reasons, we knew he could not be my surgeon on this one. I texted a few friends, my sister-in-law and my eldest sister telling them of my operation and to pray for me coz I am scared.

Pray for me. That somehow came out as a surprise because of the most things I am lacking of, it is my faith or my religiousity (if there's even such a word). I'm a Catholic but not a practicing one. The operation and the past week changed it all. Call it Divine intervention or just a wake-up call but what I went through humbled me most and jolted me from my own perceived world of greatness. In a second I had to face up to my mortality. All of a sudden I realized I have not been the best person that I could be to my children, to my family, to the people who trust in me and more importantly, to God. I wanted to pray as I was wheeled into the operating room but I did not know how. I kept on playing in my mind words and lines that a priest would say during mass. I also cannot finish my “Our Fathers” and “Hail Marys” because the words seemed to hang. And foremost in my mind was, I still need more time with my children. I still have so many things to do. So many unfinished matters to resolve. There goes my realization of my mortality.

Now I know time is most precious and we should live each day as if it is our last. Life begins at 40? No. Life begins when we are confronted of death. Living begins when we face up to the reality of dying.

And I wanted to do this, write about it because nobody has told me I can actually die anytime. I have been surrounded by a secured environment, so secured that not even my career in bad judgments when it comes to my personal life and choices in men could dampen my spirits then. So what if at 36 I have yet to walk down the aisle? I have two great boys who complete me and give me reason to live. Same two great boys though who had me scared of an operation that is actually being done just about every week.

By the way, it helps to have a ‘pre-op story conference' with your surgeon and anesthetiologist so you may ask questions and be up front with your fears like I was. I'm confident my good doctor did not take offense in my many queries and if you have someone like Dr. Roy Trinidad, he will be most patient to alleviate your sense of uncertainty.

Anyhow, I go back to saying Thank You to all who came and prayed for me. A special Thank You to my friend Dr. Joann Rivera-Jardeleza, my specialist Dr. Therese Nadala, my surgeon, Dr. Roy Trinidad and my anesthetiologist Dr. Socorro Felizarta. They were the instruments sent by God to give me that new lease on life.

Thank you to my cousin, Father Ronald De Leon who was there to bless me (or anoint is the right word?) prior to my operation and was there again as I was recovering. We had a good talk about my realizations and I believe him when he said the pain was God's way of reminding me that I need to take care of my body. For that and because of this fear of yet another pain and yes, death this soon, I hope to stay off alcohol and smoking. Determined to stay off it.

Thank you to you all who came, you know who you are and to you all who wished me well.

And Thank you to my family whom I cannot repay for every big and small thing they have been giving me and my children. I have not been the most ideal of a sister or a daughter yet they were still there for me. How can I not be thankful now?

Life is precious. Thank you. Thank you God.