Seven years ago, I was having my last meal of the day. I was trying to stuff my stomach with as much food as I can since the next day, I would undergo a major operation in the brain. My mom was feeding me Koko Krunch with very cold milk which I remember as if it was yesterday. Everyone in my family was nervous. I could tell since they can't seem to stop looking at me and they always seem to ask me if I needed something. I on the other hand was trying to be calm and strong. Not for myself, but for them. To be honest, I was really prepared which I never really expected. At the age of 17, no one is prepared to die, and yet I was. Despite the fact I haven't fulfilled my ambitions nor have I spent my years trying to get there, I was ready.
So the hour has finally arrived. Nurses started coming in prepping me for the operating room. My mom is a nurse back in our province, but that day, I could tell she was nothing more than a worried mother for her child. She was trying her best to compose herself, and so was my father. When I was inside the operating room, they immediately started. One of the staff told me to start counting backwards from 10 the minute I inhale. I took the last look at the light on top of me and inhaled. I never even got to 9 and I dozed off.
A few hours later, my neurosurgeon came out with news that made my dad's knees weak. The doctor informed my family that aside from the aneurysm they found during their diagnosis, they found another one at the back part of my head. All in all, the operation lasted for 19 hours. A successful one according to both neurosurgeons I had for that day.
Weeks later, I was already bidding everyone in the hospital goodbye. Being bedridden for so long, it was like learning how to walk again for the very first time. But since my knees were so weak, I had to be taken out on a wheelchair. I was so glad to see natural sunlight, smelling the polluted air of Manila, hearing the busy walks of everyone around me. All those made me remember how it felt like to live outside the four corners I've been caged in for months.
Seven years later, here I am. Free of any kind of medication, free of any kind of complication, and all I could say to my Creator is a warm Thank You. Thanking Him surely isn't enough, and I write this down with tears in my eyes because it really isn't. Getting the chance to live is something we should all be grateful for. Challenges may come along the way, but that shouldn't be reason for us to rebel or turn our backs on Him. Heck I wouldn't be the man I am today had it not been for those obstacles. I remember a mother who once spoke about her daughter who had an illness, she spoke with courage that brought tears to my eyes, she said "I don't know why God gave this test to my daughter. She's the kindest person I know who has a heart like no other. But then I came to realize, that God doesn't give challenges to people who aren't strong enough to overcome them. With that said, my faith has been stronger ever since."
People still ask me why I was prepared to die seven years ago, and my answer is this. Had I died in that operating room and see God face to face on my judgement, I could proudly say that I have lived my life well. The relationship I've had with my family, friends, and acquaintances were all cherished; the talents he had given me were not put to waste; the lessons I've learned living my life are the ones I offer Him now. But more than anything else, I have lived to see and love the family I was blessed with, which to me was priceless -- and that alone is what life is all about.
--Ham Viloria toasting to 7 years...
I'm so proud of you :)
ReplyDelete