Peremptory Diagnosis

prolegomenon: This is an old post, dated September 2009, and was written when I just came back from the exhausting, yet ameliorating Cebu project, freshly displaced and looking for a breather. My dad's condition was already apparent as the post will clarify, and, as most of you know the events that proceeded 3 months later, made it a quite difficult for me to publish this finally. Dad's 40th day was a week ago, and, though we all miss him, we do his memory honor simply by remembering.

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Yesterday wasn't exactly the best day of my life. I woke up to an onslaught of sniffles and racking coughs, followed immediately by the memory of my professional paradox: no work at work. I turned over in bed and let the radio announce 6 am with a religious shout of Stephen Speaks. Somewhere in those sheets and pillows, I decided I'll be doing myself and my health a favor by staying in for the day--as previously advised. I knew what was happening at work now anyway, which was meh, and I thought I needed a break. My mom of course tries to wake me up and gets a little over-concerned about my managed malaise, which is to be expected.

I texted work of course, a few minutes before 10, let Joms know the restive state of things, and swapped texts with a new friend I met at a pool party last weekend. Andy was sleeping in for the day, too, enjoying the boons of a 10-day leave. I texted back it was a rest day for me too, but I'll probably head out later that night for some gym and to hunt for a printer-server for mom's new fax/scan/xerox/intimidate Epson printer. Just errands and habits for today, nothing stressful, nothing worth staggered heartbeats.

My mom steps into the room after lunch though, starting a conversation with me with absolute disregard for the earphones I was wearing and the episode of Big Bang Theory playing on the laptop. "We're going to Manila Doctors to have your dad checked," she said, "Would you like to come along?"

The dutiful son in me took full control of my faculties and said yes, confirmed the departure time and the hospital. Good thing someone did because in my head alarms were whirring and the single question in my head was "Why Now?" It was selfish and self-centered of me to weigh my rest-day against my dad's welfare, but I can't help feel somewhat cheated. I mean, how come I get told about this check-up when I was conveniently at home?

But truly, I was quite scared. Dad's been looking sickly these last few days, but still responsive. His widening girth though made his cirrhosis quite apparent, and I thought they had it checked already. They did, 3 years ago, give or take a few months. I was flabbergasted, but instead of roaring at my parents, I instead just went along with it.

I wasn't home for 4 months and it wasn't mine to judge how they set their priorities and their needs. What was important is that I'm here now and at least we can do this together, like a family should.