BOM

Flashback

When we got to the hospital, we were received by a nurse who told us to proceed to the 5^th floor, their neurosurgery section. 

We entered the elevator and my mind was soon preoccupied.

I was nervous of what the doctor will say. I was holding all my medical records inside a folder along with my scans.

My mom reached out for my hand and squeezed it, letting me know she’s there. I’m thankful of Mom coming with me and going through this. She’s also even suffering headaches from all the stress.

I wish Dara could be here too, but I haven’t told her yet. I’m too scared. Telling her would be painful and would mean it’s final.

I was praying silently, wishing that the doctor could offer me some hope.

Upon reaching the 5^th floor, the nurse got my records and asked us to wait. We sat at the waiting area and I saw other patients as well. They were a mixture of ages, old and young, while I was somewhere in between.

I saw an old man around 60s who had a bandage around his head. I wondered what happened to him. What was he sick for and how long does he have to live?

There was middle-aged woman with a cervical collar talking to her companion about a laminectomy. I wondered what that was and whether it hurt.

I also saw a boy less than a year-old. His mother was holding him on her lap and his big head was bobbing. At least I recognize this one. I think he has hydrocephalus, the poor baby.

On my right, I see a little girl playing Barbie and smiling happily. She could’ve been pretty with her dimpled smile if only she did not have that lump protruding from her forehead. I wondered what it was called.

Looking at them, I must have been the most normal-looking patient waiting here. But they don’t know I’m hiding a mass in my brain.

I was called by the nurse and ushered in.

We were greeted by the doctor who seemed very professional. I was hoping he’d give me some good news.

But the doctor told me the same thing as my previous doctor. They said they wanted to admit me to do some more tests and see if I’m eligible for the new surgical procedure they are planning.

It’s been two months of tests and more meetings with different doctors. I felt drained from all of them. In the end, I was a poor candidate; the procedure was just too risky for me.

I guess my prayer got lost somewhere. Hope was not on my side.

As I was discharged from the hospital, I was able to see the little girl I saw before. She already had her operation. She smiled at me. She really had a beautiful smile.

Seeing her lifted me up. Hope sprung within me.

I decided not to waste my time sulking. Life is too short and my time was shorter.

I wanted to live as if everyday was my last and leave no room for regrets; to seize life and fill my days with only happy memories.

I have accepted my fate.

I just have to tell Dara and the rest of the world.