My Family Had Cancer

 Could this year be any worse than knowing your father had cancer?

During the first quarter of this year, our family has faced our first storm with my dad's health issue. He had experienced difficulty urinating, hence decided to have a prostate exam. Results had come, he needed to undergo Transurethral Resection of the Prostrate (TURP) last March to treat his urinary problems. He needed to wear catheter for just two weeks, and then proceed with a follow up check up. Quarantine happened, he, due to his age and to prevent infection of the COVID-19 virus, was not able to have a physical check up. His doctor, also, wasn't able to report because of his age. What they did was to have an online check up (of course, it is not enough!). His doctor advised him to go to the nearest clinic or hospital and have the catheter removed. If he doesn't urinate after 24 hours, he was advised to wear a catheter for another round until the quarantine is lifted and physical check up is possible. This procedure was repeated even after his mother, our Lola Maria, died and entombed. 

June came, physical check up is possible, we decided to bring dad to his doctor for a follow up check up. He, then, was scheduled for another operation to remove whatever is blocking in his urinary track. A lot of dead tissue was removed. He, again, needed to wear a catheter for two weeks. Luckily, after two weeks, he was able to urinate easily. 

We were rejoicing until early October or late September when he noticed a blood in his stool. Our parents consulted our cousin who is a nurse about it. She told them to go to a hospital for a check up. They did. They whole month of October was supposedly a happy month for us since two of us celebrate their birthdays, Mom and sis. We're not really as happy.

During the first half of October, what happened was a series of check up. Dad underwent several lab tests, of which results are recommendable. Whilst undergoing lab tests, he struggled, again with urinating, but this time with excreting also. Late October came, they went back to the hospital for a supposedly follow up check up until his doctors advised them to be admitted for further examinations. One day became two. Two became three, then a week. I, being the only person who can run some errands without compromising my work schedule, went to the hospital to bring them stuff they needed while they were staying there. However, due to pandemic, I wasn't able to go to dad's room. She advised us to keep our adversity to ourselves to prevent humors that dad acquired the virus.

While it is stressful for us to do the chores at home, it is more stressful for our parents waiting for a good feedback from the doctors. The doctors suggested him to undergo colonoscopy. They noticed a mass in his rectum. Hence, a biopsy was advised. The last week of October was devastating when his doctor told them about a possible reason while waiting for the biopsy result.  She recorded what the doctor had told them: he  could have a rectal cancer, hence the rectal mass should be removed through a surgery to prevent the spread of the cancer cells. The removal would include some of his organs like the rectum, his bladder, and more. He, as a result, would have to wear a colostomy bag for good. My parents were devastated. We are devastated. We do not know what would happen next. Not to mention our financial status, his health was at stake, his life was on a countdown(?).

I, being too emotional with what is happening, told my closest friends and colleagues about what is happening in our family. I asked them to include dad in their prayers. I wasn't as prayerful as before. I even had turned from my belief that God is there. I just don't want to lose dad. I lost a lot of people in my entire life (3 in the span of three months, during this year alone). I want him to be as healthy as he is before this happened.

Our parents, then, decided to just come home and have the medication conducted at the comfort of our home while waiting for the biopsy result. They went back home just in time to celebrate our mom's birthday. 

We have waited for few more days before the biopsy result came out. I do not understand what is written, but I know it is not acceptable. I asked some of my med students before to read it for me. One said that the rectal mass that was found in my dad's body was malignant. With the term per se, I felt my world was shut down. I don't know what else to do, or at least ease the unfortune event. 

I promised myself to have my birthday celebrated this year to ease the pain of the past. I just lost the appetite to do so. My dad has a cancer? I cannot believe it. What on earth did we do to have this heavy burden? I eavesdropped him saying "anong nangyari sakin, bakit ano nagkaganito?". It breaks my heart hearing a strong man like him, who I seldom see crying or manifesting hardships, weeps. I couldn't imagine how my mom is handling this turn of event. We are hiding our sadness. We are hiding our desperation. 

My dad is not alone in this fight. We are doing whatever should be done for him to recover. He doesn't have cancer, we did. We had cancer. I know, and I am believing, that this storm will pass without any casualty. We will be healed.

[As per the writing, only two of my closest friends knew the result: my med student and my so-called Inay. I decided to write it here and publish it because I am begging you, if anyone is reading this post, to include our family in your prayers.]

What Good Would I Be?

Rejection.

noun.
the act of refusing to accept, use, or believe someone or something.
(https://dictionary.cambridge.org/us/dictionary/english/rejection)

It was a night of July, when I was 13 or 14, my mother told me a secret in a very untimely manner: I was a product of an unplanned pregnancy. By the time my Kuya reached 2 years old, she planned to return to work. However, even before my Kuya reached 2, I was conceived. She even had plans to abort the child (too bad she didn't). My Lola Maria, dad's mom, intervened. She said that though the baby was not planned, it was still a blessing. To cut the story short, that baby was me. To add some more disappointment, my parents planned to have two kids only, a boy and a girl. When I was born, they have two children, yes, but not as how they planned. 
That night, our church Pastor was invited to talk to me and explain that I was loved, I was accepted, I was good. However, I overheard him saying that rejection was my twin. He told my parents to always make me feel accepted, to make me feel loved, to always make me feel that I was not rejected. They did and they are doing it. I feel secure of their love, of their affection, of their acceptance. However, destiny has its way to revert me to feeling I was, indeed, rejected. 

Just two months ago, my Lola Maria died. I was devastated to say the least. She was my protector. Now that she's gone, who would protect me? Who would wipe my tears away? No one. Several years before, my Lola Josefina passed. I was named after them: Jose from Josefina, and Mari from Maria. Now that both of them are gone, how can I relive the legacy they passed on me? I don't know.

Weeks after my Lola's demise, I lost two close friends. No, they didn't die, they just left me. I only have few close friends, two of them included. I think I was not really worth keeping. I don't know.

Last month, my partner and I chose to be relinquished from our duty in our school. Though we were enjoying the workload, we decided to step down for our own sake. This decision eased our mind from being too stressed and from being too anxious.
To ease my mind from thinking too much, I looked for projects I could do, all while preparing for the upcoming school year. My friend recommended me to write modules for Elementary students. However, I fell short of the standards, leading to my contract termination. It hurt me more than I could ever imagine. Although it is freeing to say the least because while I doing the project, I felt more stressed, I already am questioning my capacity to doing tasks such as this. Am I not really good enough? 

Maybe I should blame my "twin" for all the mishaps in my life. Maybe, I should accept the fact that ever since the beginning of my life, I was but a failure, and all I am to be will be a failure. I just am tired of living this way. I don''t know where I am good at. I don't know what good would I be. I just lost my sense of existence and my sense of purpose. 

I am afraid to try new things because I am too afraid of rejection and failure. I am not courageous because I do not know how to redeem myself from anxiety and pity and misery.

The Year of Brokenness

The year 2019 has brought a lot of learning in my life. I haven't got a chance to document all, but these newly acquired lessons I had were recorded in my mind and in my heart. If I had to summarize what my 2019 was, I would say it is the year when I wandered a lot; when I've got lost and been exhausted with things I should have not done. Indeed, 2019 was the year of brokenness.

In the beginning of the previous year, I have led our department to celebrate Mathematics Month. However, not everything has fallen into its rightful places. Not all of what we have planned had been executed. There are more revisions than executions. The feeling of being a failure overwhelmed me. I was a man of planning and organizing, and also a man of impulsiveness. Having given an assignment that is big enough to let my obsessive-compulsiveness overpower my impulsiveness, I planned ahead of time. I  planned even months before the celebration. However, I failed to have the plans being approved. I have no idea what I did wrong, or what I did lack. I haven't got the full support of my colleagues, as well. I admit I am an ambivert, My introvert self takes charge when talking to a crowd and asking for their littlest support. I was thinking I would steal their precious time to do what I was asking, even if it would affect their performance as well. It is frustrating to find myself being a failure. I promised myself not to take anymore responsibilities that would lead me to stress, soon depression. 

Came the following months, the feeling of being failure didn't subside right away. My heart was still broken, my mind was filled with frustrations. I promised not to ever try doing the same, if I were given a chance. I promised to spend more time for myself than to always make myself available and free for others. It defied who I was and who I am. Someone told me that your true self will always prevail. It came to pass. I was a giver, they say, so I became. I gave my time to those who need it; I gave my self to those who asked for it, even if it meant having less to none for me. I remembered giving support to those who are dear to me most, though they haven't reciprocated it. You might call me insane, but that is who I am--I give whatever I can provide, and even more. However, as the days passed, I realized it is exhausting to always give and never receive. Life is not a one-way road, but rather a two-way path. You give, you must also receive something in return. I have the former, never the latter.

Summer happened, nothing in my plans came to pass. I've got sickness that prevented me from doing and executing what I have planned. I missed two weddings (one of my cousin, the other of my college friend). I missed out-of-town trips. My body paid for all the exhaustion I had in the previous months.

New school year happened so fast. I promised myself to pursue taking a Master's degree, no matter what happened. I was assigned to teach Grade 9 Math (again) and had my schedule in the afternoon (12:30 PM to 6:50 PM). I became frustrated once again. The MA classes usually starts at 6:00 PM, which only meant I have to leave the school by 4:00 PM. I asked for some consideration, nothing was given. I accepted the fact that I would no longer be able to take my MA that time. Miracle happened when a colleague needed to give up her position and pass it to someone. Her schedule fitted with my projected timeline. We switched places, hence I was able to apply for Master's degree. I was wishful to be accepted, but not frustrated to really get it. All I was praying was if it is God-willed, it will come to pass. It came to pass. I was accepted. I enrolled and took one class for the meantime since all is new to me.

Priorities change when your focus changes. I was focused on giving myself to others, even if it means exhausting my energy and efforts. That changes when I started taking my Master's. I learned it is not bad, not even a sin nor a crime, to think of yourself first; others secondarily. However, it is not really me. I feel guilt whenever I refuse to help someone. Maybe that is who I was supposed to be. I still do not know.

When my birth month came, I promised myself not to have a grand celebration. I chose to celebrate silently since I never had found a reason to have a grand celebration. I have lost a lot of friends who I thought were real and true. I have never been that broken: I expected a lot, gained less to nothing; I have given almost everything, received nothing. 

Our church conducted a worship night on the exact date of my birth. At first, I was hesitant to attend. However, I was reminded of the chances of having such service on my special day. I attended. I cried a lot because of what I have undergone in the previous months. I wept and had all my frustrations, my brokenness, my hurtful feelings be drowned away with my tears. As the night got deeper, the service came to conclusion. I asked our Senior Pastor to pray for me. His prayers overwhelmed me. The words, I believed, were rooted deeply in my heart that I promised myself to hold onto it for the coming year, 2020. 

The year 2019 ended with me being hopeful of what 2020 would bring about my life. I believe that whatever is broken in my life for the previous year will become whole and new again this year. I am hopeful that this year will bring me more peace, more of time spent for myself, for my own growth. I know it will not be easy but I am determined to have all of what I have lost in 2019 be gained in 2020, and even more (if it'll be permitted). I promised to always go back to what I have prayed almost a decade and a half ago--to bring me where I am destined to be, to have His will happen in my life the way He wants.

I was broken, but not crushed. I believe that with all these brokenness that I have undergone will lead me to the wholeness and betterment in the years to come. I am broken, but I believe that in brokenness there is wholeness. I promise that I will be whole again and I will start fixing myself in the year 2020. 

Fly Like a Kite

                Several write ups talked about the lessons we could learn when we fly a kite. They talk about how flying a kite can be applied in living in this world. However, we haven’t talked about how it is to become THE kite. Let’s look at a different angle this time.

                Some say that flying a kite talks about living in its entirety. You, being the person who flies a kite, should know that there are times the wind doesn’t go with the direction that you want to go. When this time comes, you have to learn to change your kite’s navigation. How? By constantly dragging and releasing the thread of your kite. You need to learn when to release the tension, and when to drag your kite down. Through it, you can see your kite would fly high. You are who you are; your kite could be your dream or aspiration. You are the only one who is responsible of having your kite flown high. What if you became the kite? How would it feel to be one?

                Several days ago, I was in the verge of giving up. I was in the edge of my sanity; nearing to breaking down. I was contemplating, knowing that life, yes, gave shit sometimes, and I have to get used it. I haven’t. I never got used to it. Then, I was reminded of how a kite taught me about life.

                Let me illustrate it this way: you are the kite, the person who makes you fly represents the people within your circle, and the thread is your connection with them. The kite is made of light materials, and designed the way a person wanted it to be. You are made of diaphanous material and designed the way people wanted to see you. Your nature and nurture should jive for you to become a “perfect” kite you should be. There is nothing wrong with it. You are designed to fly, anyway. When a person is done making a kite, he will tie a thread so he could make it fly. People tied a thread with you. It should be strong so the connection between the person and the kite cannot be broken by the wind. You have to have a strong connection with people around you. They will make you fly; they will make you touch the sky. There would have some attempts that you didn’t get the rhythm of the wind. That’s okay. It happens. It’s all natural. Once you get the rhythm, and once you get to learn how to fly with the wind, the person who you are connected to is rejoicing. However, in order for you to stay in the wind, you will experience constant dragging and releasing. That’s okay. It is part of life. With this constant dragging and releasing you could fly higher and higher, but you became farther and farther from the person. The tendency was he would drag you down harder so you wouldn’t reach higher. It happens. Sometimes, those people who we are expecting who could be happy with our achievements are the ones who would drag us down harder because of it. One reason might be they wouldn’t want you to reach higher, or they are afraid to let you go. The constant wind, with fluctuating strength might bring you closer to your dreams but farther from your people. The choice is yours, my dear kite. You could fly higher and chase your dreams, or you could let the people drag you down so you could stay with them for a longer time.

                Choosing one option leads you to several consequences. If you choose to fly higher, you have to cut your connection with them and let the wind bring you wherever you are destined to go. However, losing someone who navigates you makes you lose your direction. Yes, you could reach higher, but could you achieve your dreams? That, my friend, is a mystery yet to be realized.

                If you choose to let the people drag you down, you have to forget about your dreams and stay with your people. However, not all people are appreciative. There are those who, after using you, might leave you unnoticeable and rotten like they haven’t cared at all.  There are those, on the other hand, who will take care of you and let you fly again to reach your dreams again. It is only a matter of time to know who is who.

                Being a kite makes you wonder how beautiful life may be when you are up there. You need the connection in order to fly higher. You need the constant dragging and releasing to be navigated and guided to where you are going. You need the wind that will help you fly when you are there. But, most especially, you need to be strong. The wind might blow you hard and away from your navigation. The constant dragging and releasing might make the connection between you and the person cut loose. You need to have a right combination of the elements in order for you to fly high and soar in the sky. You have to fly in order to become the kite you wanted to be.

The Things I Learned in Trusting

There are times when trusting became a big mistake. There are times when you need to stop trusting not because you are tired of it but because you are saving yourself from brokenness; not because you learned nobody's trustworthy, but because no one would do anything to help you out of what you're undergoing. Some emotions are better left hidden. Some truths are better left unsaid. Not because you are worried about what other people would think about it, but because you know no one cares about it. You have to think about yourself first. Nothing is wrong when you start to prioritize yourself. Learn to shut the door of your heart when needed. Learn to isolate yourself from the world you're living if you must. Self-love is better than masochism. 

It has been my proclivity to always extend my help to those who ask for it. It has been my practice to always be available when my friends need assistance as long as I can, and as far as I could go. I know how difficult it is having no one when you need someone.  I never asked for anything in return. It is my pleasure to always help. (Maybe that is the reason why I was always tagged as kind and generous.) If they give me something in return for whatever I did for them, I accept it; if not, it is fine as well. However, most of the time, those who I helped have given promises that, in effect,  I hold onto. Promises that are kept for a moment and forgotten forever. I know I should have not given all my trust with words. How easy it is to utter words and not mean it! I know I should have not held wholly to it. But, it is my nature to give my trust easily, even without the assurance of having them true to what they have said. I trusted easily. I think it is my weakness that I really cannot overcome. I trust even after knowing that a person is not trustworthy. I trust, even more, hoping that the words and promises will become true, for another chance and the chances thereafter. I don't know why I keep trusting, even if my heart is breaking.

Just recently, for how many times now, I have been broken. I don't know why I always receive false hopes and broken promises when all I ever did was to be true and generous. Is this how my truthfulness and generosity get repaid? I do not need promises that mean something but later become nothing. I do not need words that mean a lot on the surface but shallow in the inside. I need words that are true and will be true whatever happens, even if it seemed difficult to keep. 

I wonder why it seems keeping words and promises a difficult thing to do. I wonder why giving shallow words and breaking promises become a trend these days. Are we not giving our words high importance that we can easily just utter promises that are shallow in the first place? Do we not think that it is more hurtful to receive lies and broken promises than to know that it is impossible, at any cost,  for whatever reason there maybe,  at any chance there would be, for the kindness we gave to be reciprocated?  It is difficult, far more hurtful to learn that the promises made will be broken. It is heartbreaking as well. 

I need to learn my lesson now. It is not a mistake to doubt, and not trust. It is the right time to free myself from broken promises, and never let myself to receive another. It is the right time to move on from it, and move forward with my life. It is rightful to let those promise-breakers do the hard job to have me trust them fully again. I am not closing my doors. Yet. But soon, maybe, I need to learn not to trust again.

Monotonous

Life is but a routine. 
It never changes nor diverts. 
It always seems to circle. 
One time you’re up there. 
The next time you’re down. 
It just circles and circles. 
All seems not to change. 
Nothing seems to be progressing. 
Neither does a thing declining. 
Life is nothing more, perhaps. 
It is nothing less, also. 
It may always get boring. 
Seemingly routinely 
upgrading and downgrading. 
Life is good or bad. 
It’s a matter of choosing. 
You can only choose one. 
Or you can be both. 
Life’s not black or white. 
You may always put colors. 
You may win or lose. 
Sometimes, you may lose more. 
Oftentimes, the winning is rare. 
Maybe that’s what life is. 
Darker than what you expect. 
Sun shines not for you. 
You were doomed and neglected. 
You were nothing but loser. 
You were just nothing, perhaps. 
You were definitely a less. 
You should not exist still. 
You are better got lost. 
That is who you are. 
That is what you are.  

The Effects of Giving False Hopes

"Words are mightier than sword or any other weapon you may think of." Its damage passes through the very soul, leaving an eternal wound that nothing could heal. We may always find uttering words easy, however its effect may linger on forever. Inasmuch as a fish can get caught through its mouth, so does a person through his words. Someone says for you to know the kind of person you are talking to, you just have to listen to how he talks and how he uses words. Words are powerful. It breaks or makes someone's heart. Words are mightiest. It gives power to those who know how to use it. Words are limitless. It may give endless hopes to those who receive. However, some times, words are deceiving. One may tell something, but mean the opposite. Each word that has been said leaves a permanent ink to the heart of those who receive it. It may be an ink of encouragement or an ink of false hopes.

Lately, I came to realize something: people may tell you one thing but mean the other. In the desire of not directly breaking someone's heart, we tend to give them false hopes. However, we may not be aware of the effects these hopes might bring upon. False hopes darken the heart of those these hopes are given. False hopes kill the light. False hopes discourage. False hopes lead to destruction. False hopes break the heart to million pieces. Giving false hopes may cause depression to whoever received it. Giving false hopes may cause heartbreaks and heartaches. Giving false hopes may discourage and make a man a monster in the process. 

I cannot comprehend the reason why it seemed to give false hopes as easy as ABC. Someone just told me maybe because the giver is shy and unable to just reject directly due to timidity. I just cannot think of any logical reason for it. If you cannot do what is asked of you, then just tell them you cannot; not that you would say you'd do but in the end you wouldn't. How difficult is it to just tell the truth even if it hurts the recipient? 

It is saddening to know that giving false hopes is becoming a norm now. Why can we just give a yes for a yes and a no for a no? No maybes, no IDK's. Why can we not be just true to the words we say? Will it make you less of a man if you tell the truth? Will it make you more of a man if you lie? You may not know that at some point, the one you lied to prioritizes you because you give him your words. Why can we not be men of our words, honoring the words we said no matter what or how much it may cost us?

Yes, it is difficult to stand on what we have said. Yes, it is difficult to stand for our truth. However, we should know how fulfilling it is to be true to our words. Let us become the truths in this world full of falsity. Let us become the light in this darkening world. Let us not contribute to the multitude of people lying rather than telling the truths. Let us bring back the solemnity of vows and promises, and the purity of words. Let us become the man who can stand on his words no matter how difficult it may seem. Let us encourage each other not by giving false hopes but by being true to our promises. Let us not drag people down, rather let us push everyone up through the words we utter and the truthfulness that comes along it.