Mr. Cool Ulol and Other News

Yesterday, I had attended a Walk-a-thon with my siblings as one of the activities of the Scout Center of Chiang Kai Shek. I was pinched awake at 530 in the morning. The idea of the Walk-A-Thon was to walk (not run!) from Rizal Grandstand all the way to Aristocrat and back. In total, it was a 5 kilometer walk - or so they say. Scout leaders were assigned in specific posts to distribute stickers that would checkpoint us per one kilometer. I was signed to be my youngest brother's sponsor and thus had to trail beside him and his troop for the entire event. The scouts were assembled at 630 and the trek was initiated at 730 am. I had to wait at the side doing nothing but watch Luneta goers do their morning calisthetics, aerobics and jogging - ever so often tempted to join the morning exercisers rather than watch the pathetic troops throw jokes at each other.

During the walk, one of my brother's troopmates kept spitting - like marking his trail with his spit, thus I dubbed him, "Spit Machine". Another, was "Ebak Boi", details need not to be mentioned here. Grade 5 jests were so shallow that I cannot believe I used to be as uninspired back when I was their age - it seemed like every other boy I was with was either "gay" or a "supot". A kid, their ultimate king buffoon, the Grade 5 Cool Kid, was a haughty boy with an unhealthily foul mouth uttering primarily obscene or uncouth languages. His jokes were of extremely poor taste, from his cheap lyrics-changing to his look-at-me-I'm-so-cool antics which are not so cool at all. In fact, it seems that the only thing they would label as cool are jokes with the words/ideas of fart, shit, dicks and gays. People, get a clue! On second thought, maybe he'll grow up.. I just hope it's soon!

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My brother was brought to the hospital this morning to have his right foot checked. It turns out that our driver accidentally ran over his foot since my bro knelt down to pick up a one peso coin, shunning him away from the rear mirror view. His x-rays proved to be comforting and thus he was sent home to "rest". His rationale - sayang iyong piso eh... and I was thinking.. okay.. let's see what the hospital thinks.

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My boyfriend and I conversed lately after a long while of non-communication. I had purposely avoided his attention because I wanted to check how serious he is, considering our rather awkward beginning. The subject which bothers me right now was his outright answer when I asked him, "Thinking that I was at the verge of letting you go, you did nothing?" and he replied, "Yes." Should I put meaning into this?

He did try to remedy the situation by texting me often after that IM occurence. He even called me "his everything", and although I dare not be pessimistic, a quote from my friend repeated itself constantly in my head whenever I venture into toying with that thought - "He once told me, "Baby, you're my everything!". He told his other girl, "I'd give up everything for you." He wasn't lying... True enough, he gave me up... just for her." I hate my skepticism, but it does hold me rational at times. There are circumstances when I could swear that I sense him lying to me, but have no evidence to back up my suspicions. I wish I could be certain, that I could see transparently his truest intentions, for still I cannot detach myself from my previous knowledge of his former obsessions.

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Grandmother is gravely sick. Half her face is now paralyzed. She chokes whenever she eats and drinks. Worse, the doctors of St. Luke's medical center made an unforgivable mistake in their process of extracting samples from her spinal column, which now affected her lumbar. I was suggesting to sue the physician who did the extraction. Now, my grandmother's condition could be paralleled to my father's previous back pains a few months earlier.

I know her body aches immensely, her strong character could only take so much. Pain is no longer limited to physical, but to emotional. She remains uncomplaining when one considers all the testings she had to go through. All these processes and medications are crippling her further into a disheartened disposition. Her narcotics in total surpasses a hundred a day, to be taken in strict time frames - with no sure guarantee to completely free her from her ailments. Her tastebuds could no longer experience sweet or sour or salty - almost everything resembles the taste of soapsuds. Her arms are all swollen and bruised by the many failed attempts to draw blood samples due to her thin, brittle nerves. Every month, she has to be confined in the hospital for her chemotherapy.

In addition, mom has recently shared with me her observations that my grandmother already has the symptoms of a potential parkinson's disease - her hands were shaking uncontrollably - but the doctors find it wise to focus their worries on the graver problem at hand. According to current findings, should her condition not improve, she may expire in one month's time. Should the present problem alleviate, the doctor is giving her a possibility of eight months. Such a state is unacceptable, and although this information is solely hearsay, the potential of such news being valid is not impalpable.

Two days ago, I woke up after dreaming my grandfather playing Teresa Teng's Yue Liang Tai Piao Wo Te Sin for my grandmother. I was crying so badly that I woke my mother up. I don't want to lose my ama. I love her so much, and as much as I'd like to show it, I feel like holding back. I am afraid to be intensely attached to her that I would no longer be capable of letting go. I don't like reminiscing memories, I want to create them.. with her. I've always fancied what it would be like to have her hold her first great grandchild from me, let her lull it to sleep as she had done with me when I was infantile. See it grow up and make her happy with its most simple smile - To see her great grandchild grow up, as my great grandmother (her mother) had the luxury of seeing us all before dying. I wish extravagant miracles really do happen, would really happen...