• Jasmine Mendiola

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Mio’s supposed to be recuperating this week, chemo free, so he can proceed to the last phase of his treatment, the Maintenance Phase. In fact, with all my excitement, I have managed to look into at least four schools trying to figure out which one fits our budget, allows his so in-between age, understands his condition and allows for us to spend more time together geographically.

Unfortunately, his fever hasn’t subsided which alarms Dr. Racho and brings us back to have an overnight stay at the hospital for blood transfusions.

I sobbed soon as I got the sms from my Mom that he had to be confined. We’re down to our last few thousands in the bank account and I was in the middle of so much work, my entire family has been scampering to adjust, if not assist in Mio’s schedule, I had all these mixed emotions of feeling ashamed and hard up.

And as if we had operators ensuring that we weren’t put on hold in the line of prayers, I got a call in the middle of a stare from an overseas number. I answered my mobile like I would when I have an anonymous number ringing in the hopes that its a client inquiring for my services and on the other end of the line, an angel spoke of coming across this blog just yesterday and that she and her friends from far off Quatar would like to help. (Thank you Abi)

I recall a note I got from a friend based in Australia just yesterday saying how Mio constantly reminds her and her community that as one, we should be able to rely on each other because a woman she has never met just knocked on her doorstep and handed her a few dollars and said it was for Mio… and I feel ridiculous just having felt ashamed to be where we are right now.

I have resented having to ask for more assistance knowing well that we have received so much already. But more than that, I feel renewed today. Now that we are making the most out of the comforts of the hospital facilities while my son is hooked on his IV singing to the tunes of the chipmunks. 

The nurses here were so happy to see him again, its like a homecoming! They said he still looked so handsome with his bald head, making his lashes pop out more. My anonymous middle east caller said he seemed to smart and his eyes said so much in his photos. Mio even offered to do his homework while waiting for the blood to be prepared and his dinner (which he wasn’t able to eat because of his sore right smack in the middle of his tongue). He was content to see me walk through his door. My Mom said he has been so impatient all day while waiting for the CBC results and the room, all he wanted was to have me beside him in an instant.

Once again, I am overwhelmed. I worry about tomorrow less than I do when I agitate over work undone or when I linger at the thought that there is never enough time to prepare for the next day’s work. Today is about waiting for Mio to recover.

And I must say that my son’s disposition in all this makes me ashamed of how adults handle anxiety and our daily troubles. Children indeed inspire people more than we give them credit for.

Please continue praying that he surpasses this and that we get discharged soon.

Being a freelancer, knowing that today was a holiday got me running to the bank before heading to the hospital to get a hold of all the money we would need to pay for tonight’s confinement. My eyes were still bloodshot so I wore a smile and huge specs over while waiting for the teller to hand me the cash. She candidly said as soon as she folded Mio’s passbook, “wala ng pera si Mio…” (Mio doesn’t have money anymore…) as if she knew my son first-hand. I sheepishly smiled and in passing mentioned that he is currently confined. She reassures me as if it was a pat on the back, “magkakaron ulit yan.” (there will be money in his account again) 🙂 I’d like to think that it is because she knows that I work hard for our money and help ourselves. But humbly I acknowledge that there are so many operators calling on God to make Mio better soon. How can he not be?

My parents and siblings are safely home now. Mio and I are enjoying the last hours of the evening watching his usual DVDs as I type away. What to do tomorrow and how I can manage to do work from here to there is a mystery. But I am sure that my son is in good hands. Not in just in mine. But in the loving arms of God and his children all over the world.

Thank you everyone. Again and again and again… I hope you never tire of finding inspiration from my son’s happy disposition and the fact that he is getting better, shedding hope to those who may feel that life is too hard. I have the privilege of knowing that because I am blessed with his love for me. I hope that you continue helping me make things better for Mio. Like all moms would do and more. God. If I could only describe the overwhelming feeling and give justice to all the blessings; if I could only enumerate and count the number of people who prove that goodness is innate in humans… I would. Really. I would. For now, I hope these suffice. Good night.

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