Prone

[AnShino]

AN: Dated 9:51 PM, 14 August 2005 Sunday. Dedication to my aunt, a woman stronger than any other I know, my heroine.


Prone

It was the inhumanely clean scent that bothered me most, not the IV needle in her arm where dried blood still stained the bandage, not the steady drip of the IV drop, not the tube that seemed to strangle her which ironically was helping her to breathe. It wasn?t that she wore a flimsy gown that opened up around her shoulders to reveal her pacemaker, and it wasn?t that she laid there, pale against the stark white bed spread, it was the antiseptic smell, the cleaner than clean smell that was always associated with the hospital.

I couldn?t stand it just like I couldn?t stand to see her prone on that bed, half her body paralyzed and unable to speak. I couldn?t stand seeing her being spoon fed baby food, mashed up so that she wouldn?t choke. Her drinks had to be carefully sipped through a straw or made thicker with medicine so that it wouldn?t congest in her lungs and kill her. I couldn?t stand to see her like this.

She was a woman that fourteen years ago threatened the nurses and doctors because they wouldn?t see my mom right after her water broke. This was a woman who a decade ago, I worked in her backyard garden with. This was the same woman who picked vegetables with me, teaching me how to tell when they were ripe or not. This was the same woman who carried around a bag filled with prayer books, address books and a fat wallet stuffed with cash just to make sure no one took it. This was the woman who spoiled us on birthdays and Christmases with cash gifts that ranged from $50- $500.

This woman who spoke beautiful English as well as her native tongue was made mute by a disease. This woman who went just about everywhere with us is now lying prone, bed ridden because of that disease. This woman who I thought was wonderful, who I thought was a mystery, who is my constant in life.. this woman is now unable to do even the simplest things by herself.

She lies there, forced to observe. She lays there a victim of something she couldn?t control. She lays there the victim of lineage and old age. The once fiery and proud woman lies helpless, unable to speak or walk, weakened. The victim of a stroke.

[saeki54]

Oh...this is sad. Kinda reminds me of my grandpa. He died two or four years ago, due to a cancer in the vena cava. And from your description, I think she's Filipino. So if you can really read this:
Nakikidalamhati ako sa iyo. *gives Anshino tissues* I really don't need them. You need them more. So smile. You know & I know that it's not the end of the world.

[AnShino]

*smiles* I don't cry much, but thanks for the tissues. I appreciate it. [= And yes, she's Filipino. I think I could read that? Lol. I can understand spoken Tagalog better than I can understand written Tagalog.

I'm sorry about your Lolo, cancer is tough. But yes, you're right it's not the end of the world. (=


<3 || an.

[saeki54]

Yes, prayer sure calms the soul. And try to write in Tagalog as well. It works. Or better yet, buy an English-Tagalog dictionary.