Reflections in the hospital
I volunteered to bring my parents-in-law to the hospital on July 7th. Apart from helping my husband focus on his job, I also wanted to know more about the process prior to my MIL's operation the following Monday. I was not denied of the experience. I never thought that it would still allow me to reflect about a lot of things despite being busy and disappointed and thankful all at the same time.
My MIL (mother-in-law) was diagnosed with breast cancer last year (2017). She's 73 years-old but never she doubted getting healed in time. She bravely faced chemotherapy and would often travel alone to prepare all paper works prior to her treatments. The lump subsided but reappeared like a tiny pimple somewhere in her breast. Thinking it was just some "pimple" she went to a dermatologist instead. It spread across the top of her left breast in a span of 3 weeks. I don't have any idea how irritating or painful it must be because aside from not experiencing it first hand, she never showed any pain. But she skipped wearing bra. I realized it must hurt that bad.
I don't meddle with my husband's family's business because it seems they're really not comfortable disclosing personal details to me. In silence I comfort my husband and just do what I can do best as of the moment - pray. I've witnessed miracles happen in my life. He's not selfish to grant me some of my prayers. But I know there were also a lot of requests either delayed or will never be granted to me. This time, however, I'm lost as to how I would ask for His help. The doctors told my husband that they're more worried about what will happen during the operation rather than after the operation. My MIL discussed with my husband without showing any emotions whatsoever what to do should the operation be unsuccessful. When my husband told me that, silence became my best friend. It's the only thing I can offer to him. I think it's only the best comfort as of the moment. When I turned to God, speaking to Him in my mind, I don't know what to ask. I prayed the operation will turn out fine but I also prayed for courage to accept whatever the outcome will be.
Last Saturday, I felt the importance of my presence in the hospital. My parents-in-law were more concerned of their admission so I stepped up to clear some processes in the hospital. It's a public hospital that offers little to no payment at all with the services they'll give you. Because of that, there are a lot of patients from all walks of life coming in to seek treatment. We weren't able to reserve for a room prior to going there. The resolution offered for us was to "squat" in the emergency room and wait for a room to get vacated. It was painful to see her stay there with all kinds of sickness coming in and out from that room. But no matter how hard we try to get a room even in the charity ward, there's nothing else to do but to wait. God did not forsake us because Sunday night she was already transferred to a semi-private room.
The intern doctors, the resident doctors, and the attending surgeons were all very helpful to us. Despite all the hassle that Saturday morning, the intern doctor who took mama's blood for testing gave me a very specific direction where to bring it. The nurse I spoke to about room admission was also very friendly in explaining to me the process on how we could get a room despite her need to attend to a lot of patients. The guard on the door of the emergency room was also kind enough to let us in some of my parents' things before I go back home.
Watching everyone hustling around the hospital's emergency room took me back to my younger years when I dreamed of becoming a doctor someday. Of course that didn't materialize. Even at a young age, I already understood the stress of becoming one. What really turned me off from this profession is the time it would take away from me. I didn't have any idea then about shifting hours. I only saw it on TV. However, looking at every medical personnel in that hospital, I suddenly had this huge respect to them! I wished I became a doctor! They were all busy and hyper but they still managed to take a minute to pause and talk to you to explain things. But I think they also appreciate it if you would talk to them kindly and express your concerns sincerely. A bit of compassion goes a long way.
My MIL (mother-in-law) was diagnosed with breast cancer last year (2017). She's 73 years-old but never she doubted getting healed in time. She bravely faced chemotherapy and would often travel alone to prepare all paper works prior to her treatments. The lump subsided but reappeared like a tiny pimple somewhere in her breast. Thinking it was just some "pimple" she went to a dermatologist instead. It spread across the top of her left breast in a span of 3 weeks. I don't have any idea how irritating or painful it must be because aside from not experiencing it first hand, she never showed any pain. But she skipped wearing bra. I realized it must hurt that bad.
I don't meddle with my husband's family's business because it seems they're really not comfortable disclosing personal details to me. In silence I comfort my husband and just do what I can do best as of the moment - pray. I've witnessed miracles happen in my life. He's not selfish to grant me some of my prayers. But I know there were also a lot of requests either delayed or will never be granted to me. This time, however, I'm lost as to how I would ask for His help. The doctors told my husband that they're more worried about what will happen during the operation rather than after the operation. My MIL discussed with my husband without showing any emotions whatsoever what to do should the operation be unsuccessful. When my husband told me that, silence became my best friend. It's the only thing I can offer to him. I think it's only the best comfort as of the moment. When I turned to God, speaking to Him in my mind, I don't know what to ask. I prayed the operation will turn out fine but I also prayed for courage to accept whatever the outcome will be.
Last Saturday, I felt the importance of my presence in the hospital. My parents-in-law were more concerned of their admission so I stepped up to clear some processes in the hospital. It's a public hospital that offers little to no payment at all with the services they'll give you. Because of that, there are a lot of patients from all walks of life coming in to seek treatment. We weren't able to reserve for a room prior to going there. The resolution offered for us was to "squat" in the emergency room and wait for a room to get vacated. It was painful to see her stay there with all kinds of sickness coming in and out from that room. But no matter how hard we try to get a room even in the charity ward, there's nothing else to do but to wait. God did not forsake us because Sunday night she was already transferred to a semi-private room.
The intern doctors, the resident doctors, and the attending surgeons were all very helpful to us. Despite all the hassle that Saturday morning, the intern doctor who took mama's blood for testing gave me a very specific direction where to bring it. The nurse I spoke to about room admission was also very friendly in explaining to me the process on how we could get a room despite her need to attend to a lot of patients. The guard on the door of the emergency room was also kind enough to let us in some of my parents' things before I go back home.
Watching everyone hustling around the hospital's emergency room took me back to my younger years when I dreamed of becoming a doctor someday. Of course that didn't materialize. Even at a young age, I already understood the stress of becoming one. What really turned me off from this profession is the time it would take away from me. I didn't have any idea then about shifting hours. I only saw it on TV. However, looking at every medical personnel in that hospital, I suddenly had this huge respect to them! I wished I became a doctor! They were all busy and hyper but they still managed to take a minute to pause and talk to you to explain things. But I think they also appreciate it if you would talk to them kindly and express your concerns sincerely. A bit of compassion goes a long way.
Comments
Post a Comment