Post-Capitol Thoughts

 

Nothing puts your own mortality into perspective but the very threat of it.

I had a health scare. At 33, I was admitted to the hospital for the 1st time. I used to take pride in the fact that I have never stayed the night in a medical institution as a patient, a testament to what Mama often boasts about that I am the sturdiest of her children. I survived both polio and measle outbreaks in my Barangay back in the 90s, and I don't shy away from the meds especially if it is prescribed. But all that changed more than 2 weeks ago. With inflamed tonsils and a GERD that is acting up, I decided to visit the nearest emergency room, where I was only expecting to have the meds injected directly into my veins as I have found it to be more efficient and less hassle in the tum-tum. But alas, that ER visit turned into a 13-day hospital stay. The duration of my admission made me take a closer look at how my body functioned, especially in reaction to an infection. I now have a better grasp on what to do during a 40.3 fever and just how mind-bending the entire experience of trying to have a cohesive conversation with a fever that high is. I thought I would be journaling or enriching myself (I asked Mama to bring me a book) during that time, but instead, I spent it curled in bed and counting the hours for every nurse's rounds. Not having someone to stay with me during the evenings (when the fever is highest and most often) was also an alienating experience, making my aloneness very apparent. 

I couldn't help but think of the lives unaffected by my absence; I had very few visitors, I am not sure if this is evidentiary proof that people do not treasure me as much as I treasure them. I hated being a burden as well. I insisted on not having a companion. It was mighty expensive (the tests, the PPE, the food, and the other expenses), but at the same time, I couldn't ask people to drop everything on their plate just to make sure that I am fine and comfortable in my recovery. But even with this setup and the arrangement of shifting visitors that would stay to watch over me, I couldn't help but wish for the other people that I thought would be there in cases like that. The very people that I know I wouldn't hesitate visiting in a hospital if given the chance. But it was not so. I sent updates to Group Chats of people just so that they won't have to ask, not that they asked, and comforted Mama because it seems she took it a lot worse than I did. 

More than anything, this health scare stretched beyond those 4 walls of the hospital. Everything I do now seems to cast a shadow of doubt on my every decision-making, " Will this put me at risk?" And I realize it's because I have so much to lose now. 2023 is a year with so much in store for me and my family that it would be a waste for me to just die this year. Reading that last sentence made me chuckle. I am now at an age where I fear the things I won't get to enjoy if I die, what an existence. 

I just want to formalize this by putting these thoughts in writing. I find myself growing more sentimental these days and I am running out of things to look back to, so I must at least put some things down now for future me to read and look back on. I guess, that in itself is something to look forward to after all.