Tested in a Crucible [Part 1 of 2]

For the previous year-enders, you may click on the links below:
2022 - "2022 = Courage" Part 1 & Part 2
2021 - "Anticipating 2022 and Potentially Moving On"
2019 - "惊喜 (Don’t worry. This is an English blog entry.)" Part 1; from old blog & Part 2

For the last part of this blog series, click here.

INTRODUCTION. It has taken me several weeks past the New Year's Eve to start with this blog post. I would want to have this published before we shout "Happy New Year" at the stroke of midnight just like what I usually do. I certainly had the luxury of time, but I struggled to keep my thoughts intact and to mentally prepare for a flashback of events the previous year brought upon my life.

The year 2023, in general, is not a good year to make flashbacks with.

The year before it, 2022, was already an awful year: I let go of my eight-year Mandarin teaching career, had a short stint in the nightshift (terrible work-life balance) call center industry, underwent grief firsthand with the passing of my father, struggled with unemployment and subsequent participation in several job applications, and lastly, got started with a job which I nearly lost had I not persevered my way to the company.

With all that had happened, I thought the next year would be presenting itself as a friendlier period of five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes.

Image of a crucible under intense heat.
From Wikimedia Commons. By Maksim.
Public Domain.

To be fair, 2023 did start with exciting twists: I played in the church praise and worship band as a bassist for nearly every week in January (being in a worship team is something I longed doing after being off from it since 2014), then the romantic episodes only a very few people know about before it became official, I was exclusively dating someone, and after doing the Filipino courtship customaries, the lady I was dating became my girlfriend on the 25th of February.

Then during Holy Week, together with my brother, aunts and cousins, I returned to Bicol Region to my mother's hometown for the first time in a quarter of a century. A week after, I got to visit Baler with one former co-teacher. This Baler trip started pretty well but ended in a whirlwind of events which included him being rushed to the hospital, constant calls searching for a more suitable hospital that can attend to his condition, and negotiating his transfer from Baler to Cabanatuan and then to Manila.

I don't have permission to share what transpired at the end of our Baler vacation and the days succeeding it, but it was at this point, my friends, 2023 turned sour.

End of May came my biggest public humiliation. I was tapped as the event host of my high school alma mater's oathtaking ceremony for the new batch of alumni officers. Being absent from school for some time then, the alumni association became my sole string of attachment to the school, so doing emcee for them this time was an important role to play, well, for me to somehow reconnect with the school as well.

To summarize the horrible incident, I was berated publicly, on stage right after the oathtaking, by a high-ranking official as the sequence of events did not go well with her and accused me of changing the flow at my own choice. What I had on my hand was the program flow that came from a couple of briefings I attended prior to the event, so the accusation that fell on me was heavy to bear. The shocked and confused audience saw the on-stage fuss; with video cameras rolling and local Chinatown media witnessing the scene as well, maintaining composure in front of them was extremely difficult. I eventually decided to resign my post in the association after a week of contemplation.

Unknown to me, the worst of the year is yet to come.

(Trigger Warning: Death, Loss of a Loved One. You may skip ahead to Part Two.)

ANOTHER TRAGIC YEAR. As I was starting to quietly release myself from the memories of hospital environment and the alumni event hosting hullabaloo, 2023 had now decided to test me in my family life.

See, we just commemorated the first death anniversary of my father in July. I was observing my family's emotions as we approach that one calendar date. While we certainly remembered our father, everyone seemed to be at peace with the situation that he is indeed gone.

Plans were getting firm that we inter our father's ashes at the columbarium within the historical San Agustin Church in Intramuros, Manila. We chose to have it taken place the Sunday after my father's sixtieth birthday, so as not to interrupt anyone's weekday activities at school or at work.

Now April Rose, the eldest of my younger sisters, had a small lump appearing on her right side of the neck (just near the collarbone) in June. When she let us see what it is, I thought it was just a dermatological case, like a cyst or lipoma. I remembered me telling her to have it removed like what we see in Dr. Pimple Popper episodes on TV and online.

She was not into having it checked at first, but later agreed due to my mother's insistence. The doctor at a private clinic let her undergo laboratory tests to see what the neck mass really is, and prescribed antibiotics to deter infection. We saw significant improvements as the neck mass gradually disappeared through the weeks of medication. Her x-ray reading indicated normal state of lungs and her CT scan did not mention any specific illness, it just gave description of the neck mass, with recommendations that a doctor should look into it further.

Entering August, I noticed that she was vomiting and complaining of headaches. She was also coughing so we thought she may have caught the flu as it was raining a lot then. She was working as barangay (village) secretary and the work stress may have also gotten into her, hence her weakened state.

Then came 9 August evening. I was preparing the clothes I was going to wear the next day (my girlfriend and I are invited to attend the wedding of our matchmaker) when my other two younger sisters were expressing concerns that they were having a hard time understanding their Ate (elder sister). So, when I came to their room, I saw April already profusely sweating and yes, it was hard to understand what she is trying to convey. While her words are clear, her line of thinking is all over the place. Sentences came one after another, but they don't make a cohesive thought. Then she became more and more emotional and even started weeping. At this point, I discussed with the family to have her rushed to the hospital as we were suspecting a case of seizure or stroke, which would warrant immediate medical attention. We rushed April to the nearby Gat Andres Bonifacio Memorial Hospital. It was near midnight of 10 August.

Everything that happened in that hospital emergency room is still vivid to me, but I can only share the "allowable" details with respect to my family and to the memory of our sister.

Blood tests and patient interview were performed. A urine test was also requested but it was later scrapped, oh boy, I cannot tell you why. The only clue I can give you is that her mental state was getting worse by the hour as she started to have visual and auditory hallucinations. She was telling me that our deceased father was there and we should chase after him. She was also hearing a female voice telling her to get cleaning, according to the doctor.

My conversation with April that early morning was more incomprehensible than she was in the house hours ago; she was blurting out sentences more randomly and cannot seem to process the reason why she was there. She told me several times that we should go home, but I repeatedly told her we can't go out unless otherwise advised by the doctor. She was given dextrose through intravenous route and potassium tablets to aid in normalizing her body electrolytes, but surprisingly, she had the intravenous injection removed at one point. This was surprising to me because she has hemophobia. She should react to her blood dripping from her hand but didn't.

The blood test results were not good: sodium and potassium levels were below normal; the liver toxins were at dangerously high levels. Seeing the dire and seemingly hopeless situation at the ER, the resident doctor then strongly recommended us to transfer immediately to another hospital to confirm if her mental state is of medical or psychological reasons. That day alone, April and I went to three more hospitals, with some of them rejecting us because either they have inadequate facilities (for April's case, we were advised to go to a more complete tertiary-level hospital) or had emergency areas overflowing with patients. With the help of our barangay, April was finally confined at the Bagong Ospital ng Maynila, which thank God is a tertiary hospital. The entire ordeal of Day 1 proved challenging to the whole family - to me because I hardly had any sleep, and to our mother as well as she decided to switch places with me as April's companion.

She was confined at that hospital for the next twelve days. My mother was replaced by Mary (my second younger sister) and lastly by our second cousin Ate Carla as she had caregiving experience abroad.

The next conversation I had with April was on 13 August early morning. Mary was already mentally exhausted in dealing with her Ate so I had to temporarily replace her and let her get some sleep until the morning shift nurses arrive. A replacement companion within the day without the doctor's approval is prohibited but the night shift nurse took pity and allowed us to do so, in the condition that I should leave the premises before his shift ends in the morning.

The conversation was a lot better than Day 1 because she can remember some details when we talked about the past. She can also independently go to the restroom and do the cleaning after. She requested to have her cellphone back (we opted not to let her have it due to her condition) and even asked to buy foods she loves from a popular fast-food chain. One thing April was not getting over with was her hospital confinement; she still cannot understand why. That time, based on initial findings, we knew she was diagnosed with hepatic encephalopathy, meaning her liver toxins in the body were so elevated that it has now affected her brain (remember the hallucinations and her ragged line of thought) and she was suspected to have tuberculosis as well, so I know her case was extraordinary (this is an understatement guys) before coming in to talk to her. I did not reveal April the initial findings but told her that the doctors found something wrong in her body that's why she needs to be confined. I advised her to tell the doctors everything so that they can better understand her condition.

As we continue to talk about things in life, she was constantly playing with the masking tape that holds the intravenous (IV) injection in place at the back of her hand. Oh, I cannot count how many times I told her not to touch it but she went on with it. When I looked for the nurse to submit a sputum sample for her tuberculosis test, April had already removed the injection and was attempting to put it back in as I return to her room. I called the nurse for assistance and heard him asking April whether she wants to be cured or not and warned her that her arms will be tied to the bedside should she continue to remove the injection. Just before the dayshift nurses come for work, I woke Mary up and bade April goodbye and returned home.

Judging by what I saw that day, I felt everything will be better and April will be back home soon.

The next days, however, had her condition gotten worse very quick.

This time it was our second cousin who took charge in taking care of April, we were constantly checking with her about April's condition. We sometimes were able to personally talk to the nurse-on-duty or the doctor himself whenever we bring food and other needed supplies. The updates that came were getting more and more serious: April's hands were tied to the bedside to prevent her from removing the IV injection, later on she has to be intubated for food intake, another intubation came to help her breathe, and eventually became not very responsive and was just staring at the ceiling.

I attempted to replace our second cousin in the afternoon of 20 August so that I can talk to April some more and give her encouragement. I brought my working laptop along so that I can still attend to my projects while looking after her. But the hospital became very strict and did not allow me this time.

Past 11AM on 22 August, I received a call from our second cousin telling me that April's eyes were not responding whenever the medical staff flashes a light over (swinging flashlight test). I told her to give us more updates on what the doctor will say further. An hour later, the next call I got was about April being resuscitated. As the doctor was speaking, the fourth of five rounds of CPR (cardiopulmonary resuscitation) is underway. That moment I knew nothing more can be done to save her but my words I spoke to the doctor were still "Sige po doc, kung ano na lang po makakaya ninyo." (Carry on doc, make do with what you can do.) Then the call ended.

I cannot move from my position (thankfully I was working from home that day) as I await the dreaded result of the CPR. Minutes passed, the call I feared came, hearing my second cousin's command in crying tone, telling me to go to the hospital immediately. It was 12:38.

I was the first to get the sad news, in contrast to my father's passing when I was the last to know. Breaking this news is unimaginably difficult. I did not put into exact words as my mother was in a call with my aunt as these things happened. I just told my mother "Punta na tayo." (Let's go.) I thought she got the message right away because she replied that one of the candles on the altar is reserved for April (from what I know, we don't light candles for the living). But when my older brother came home to break the news to her, outpouring grief in full view came upon everyone in the house, and upon the neighbors who were equally concerned about April's condition from the beginning.

There was a discussion whether to have her remains cremated immediately because she was a suspected tuberculosis case. My mother understandably was initially against having a wake as it would be very painful for her, but she later listened and gave in to our neighbors and the barangay officials who April worked with for several years. We also confirmed this with the hospital and they said having a wake would not pose as a health risk.

April's passing was indeed a test of faith, even to our mother, to whom we owe our spirituality very much. She said she wanted to ask God why. It may raise eyebrows of those who will find this hard to understand why she wants to question, but for a context: last year she was widowed, now she lost a child. We lost our family members two years in a row.

When April was still in hospital confinement, I, too, was seeking answers from God. I was quoting Romans 8:28 that things work together for the good of those who love Him. I find it hard to understand how His promise through that Bible verse would work out, now that I lost my father, then we were about to lose April also (yup, I was preparing myself for the worst). I was weeping day after day, because I am very much aware that only God's miracle can save April. Later on, as April's sickness progressed, I just surrendered everything to God and let His will be done on this.

Hearing my mother's remarks after April passed, all I said was "Lahat naman dito sa mundo ay hiram lang ng Diyos." (Everything here on Earth is just lent by God.)

During the wake, it became clear to us that April actually wished to be with our father. Multiple times in her last months on Earth, she told her fellow barangay officers that she misses Papa and she wants to follow him after his death. You know what, April also told me that same statement when there was a sibling quarrel weeks after our father passed away, but I told her that it will not be as I did not see anything wrong with her, at least physically. She was also ranting about her carrying an emotional burden, saying, "Akala niyo ba kayo lang may pinagdadaanan?" (Do you think you're the only ones who are going through something?) But when I asked her what that is, she became silent and refused to answer.

April was very much a secretive person. Had it not for the neck mass that appeared months before she passed, we would be absolutely clueless that she had a medical condition. I would consider myself the closest to her among her siblings, but her true physical state was a mystery to me until the doctors found out, which according to the final diagnosis, are all internal diseases. Six infections were enumerated, and true enough, no mortal being can survive all those without early detection and cure. She always portrayed herself as the unbothered, the outspoken, the brave one in the family, considering all these strong personality traits, I am mystified how she hid all these to me, to us. Has she known that she does have a medical illness long before this happened? Has she quietly been enduring the pain all these years? We may never know the answers now.

As for her wish to be with Papa, that came true when their ashes were inurned at San Agustin Church columbarium on 17 September, two days after Papa's sixtieth birthday.

(This blog post has a continuation...)