This time, was my five-year-old son’s turn. After a wonderful time in Bukidnon for the long All Saints’ Day holiday, we headed straight to the hospital. The left side of Donny’s face was so swollen one could hardly recognize him. We suspect is was from having rubbed his nose so hard (because it was super itchy from eating too much junk food, which he did behind my back). The next day, his face started to swell and in a few hours, it got worse that he seemed to have come out of a boxing match. What a pity for a truly handsome boy (modesty style)! Donny and I went to the emergency room of St. Luke’s Medical Center (where Donny was born) and there, we stayed for three hours. My son was thoroughly examined by about 10 resident doctors and three consultant pediatricians. Everybody was warm and patient. I felt so proud seeing so much talent and energy in all the attending resident and head physicians there. The nurses were gentle and caring. In my heart, I hoped that they would consider to stay in our country and not opt to leave us for a better paying job abroad. But then again, that’s a different story.
Finally, it was time for Donny’s IV to be inserted. At first, Donny was up and about amusing himself with anything he saw and got his hands on. That attitude made the nurses and doctors feel relaxed and have an easy time inserting the IV. I reminded him that it would be over soon and that if he didn’t resist, everybody could continue going about their business attending to others who also need their help. He nodded and promised to cooperate. Well, as soon as the needle was inserted, Donny screamed and panicked, which dislocated the needle. There was blood all over the floor. He cried when I explained that the needle would have to be inserted again on the other hand. He refused to give that hand and pleaded not to do it anymore. At one point, he even accused me of not loving him because I was allowing him to get hurt. Oh, that really hurt … All I could tell him was that mothers would always risk being accused of not loving their children to protect them from harm. I called Anthony for help, but Donny wouldn’t budge. Finally, I remembered what Anthony would tell me everytime I’d call him for help like, "Hon, you were made for such situations … you can handle it." It was then that I mustered enough courage to look at Donny straight in his eyes to tell him that I love him and I was giving him two choices: To cooperate or refuse and be pinned down. He opted not to give in, which led to me embrace him tightly. I started whispering assuring words to his ears while the nurses and doctors took my cue to get down to serious IV inserting. It went so fast and took a while for Donny to calm down, but it helped that I was embracing him and not panicking myself. The nurse told me she’d do the skin test in the room so as not to cause any more discomfort for Donny. I had to brief Donny so he wouldn’t feel bad. To my surprise, he confidently told me that he was willing to have the skin test done right there to get it over with. He looked at the needle and didn’t cry though it was painful. I think my little boy learned something about courage. So did I. I learned never to underestimate my son. I also saw once again the importance of being truthful to my son.
We got settled in our own hospital room in no time. What a blessing! I made up my mind to make our bonding memorable. I was in full service mode. I was glad to be of service to my son. When we were in bed cuddling each other so tightly, I reminded him that the last time we were in a hospital bed together like that was when he was born and I had roomed him in our room. Oh, time flies so fast indeed!
I have to admit, I was also exhausted and even blew my top at one point. I thought Donny purposely peed all over the bathroom when I was trying to fix his IV. I lost my temper and he kept so quiet. After a while, I asked him if he did it on purpose. He said, "Mom, I put up the seat with one hand and tried to point with the other but forgot I had an IV on and that’s why I made a mess, I’m sorry." I asked him why he didn’t ask for my help. He replied, "Because I wanted to help you." I embraced him so tight and apologized. His eyes were swollen with tears when he said he forgave me. What a humbling experience!
Several tests were done and the medicines really helped Donny. It turned out to be an allergy that irritated his nostrils and his constant rubbing and picking caused an infection. He was put on maintenance medicine and given a list of things and food to avoid. He was sent home after two days.
I have to say that the calls of concern, prayer text messages and visits from caring friends and relatives made our hospital stay very positive and truly unforgettable. Now, I realize the value of visiting a sick friend in the hospital. Donny sincerely thanks Ate Ella, for her time, paintings and being the messenger of get-well-soon cards from his classmates; Ate Jaz and Kuya Manny for taking over when Mama had to take a break; Lola Emma for sharing stories about his dad’s childhood like the time she gave him P200 (which made him feel like a millionaire); Tita Vicky for pasalubongs and taking a picture of his distorted face; Mamu and Tito Melvin for super sarap noodle soup; Lolo Doctor for the lollipop; Tito Dondi for his expert advice from Bukidnon to Manila to the emergency room;Tita Sally (and Gabriel) for the zoid and for playing with him while Mama had to settle the bill; all the nurses, church members (who prayed) and titos and titas who called and texted. Thank you all!