I would rather see myself lying in a hospital bed than seeing my little sisters suffering…
I grow up witnessing how my younger sisters learn and grow. We built a bond at home that is different from the typical ones. We have a bigger age gap that’s why they treat me more than a sister, but a second mother. I bathe them, prepare their food, assist them in eating, wash their “dedes”, tell them stories, and play with them.
But that was before I entered college. The need for me to study in a far place separated me from them. I can only go home once every two months but I always make sure that we spend quality time together.
Every time I walk to the highway and wait for a bus or van to take me back to Dumaguete, I always feel empty being away from my little playmates.
Though I’ve been staying in the city for three years now, I never experienced crying so much just because of one reason— missing them. If only it is possible, I want to see them again, to laugh with them, to sing, read and play with them. But I can do nothing but to bear with this loneliness. Every day, there’s always that emptiness in me.
But it was lessened when one afternoon I received numerous text messages from Mama and Auntie that they are in the city with my sisters. I was happy of course, for at last, I will be with them. But their purpose of coming is not good news for me. It was painful to hear that they came here to confine my two younger sisters in the hospital—one who is 2 years and 5 months old, and the other is 1 year old.
I felt so low for a moment but I immediately rushed to the hospital, leaving my work unfinished. Then, there I saw Papa, the unusual image of a father, maybe brought only by the situation.
Then he showed me the way that led to where our youngest was—emergency room. I saw two nurses putting dextrose on her hand. I can’t take the scene that’s why I never watched the process, while my other sister was in the pediatric ward, weak and pale. A nurse came nearer and injected her on the right finger to get 30 drops of blood from that portion for lab examination.
Tears then started to fall from both eyes of my sisters. Every time I see them cry, shouting because of pain, I can’t help but cry too. Pity for our two angels slowly dominated my emotion for I was not used to seeing them in that condition.
They stayed in the same room, and minute by minute, nurses and student-nurses got inside, checking their conditions. Nebulizer machines were beside their cribs, for every four hours, they need to undergo that session, since medical tests show that their blood is filled with bacteria which caused pneumonia. My other five year old sister was also there, taking care of her other sisters, sacrificing her time in going to school.
Because that chapter of our lives challenged my sisters’ strength and fighting spirit, I devoted my time serving them without attending my classes.
Everyday was a challenge for them to fight against that illness, and thank God, everyday was a process of development, slowly recovering from the pains they are suffering.
Until the 5th day, I saw their smiles again. The smiles which I missed so much, the smiles that would assure me that they’re fine, that they are in good health, and that they are happy. Finally on the 7th day, they were released from the hospital.
The time, effort and money were worth it, for it showed that the family is willing to provide everything just to make them feel that lives are important. That incident taught us a lesson; and it also gave me a chance to be with them again, even in just a short span of time.