MAY 19, 2013
Today would be the last day I could see my father. It might take another year
for me to visit him again in the hospital.
Honestly, on my way to the hospital, my feet were trembling. I'm a little bit
afraid to face the truth for he has been in the bed of sickness for more than a
year. He had a terrible accident last year in Saudi Arabia where he was
employed as a factory worker.
He has been hospitalized in Saudi Arabia from January 3, 2012. He has been in
coma for almost a week and when he woke up he felt a terrible pain all throughout
his body and after having a comprehensive physical therapy abroad, they
realized that his nervous system was badly affected. His head was badly
hurt causing my father to lie paralyzed. Doctors called his condition as quadriplegia.
It means that he cannot move his body from his shoulder down to his feet.
I reported his condition to the Overseas Workers Welfare Administration.
Sometime in mid-April, 2012, he came back in the country accompanied by
his colleague, Edwin Umali Garcia. Edwin was among his fellows who took care of
him while in a Saudi Arabian Hospital.
Unlike other meetings, this time, it was a sad meeting between me and my
father. He has been inside an emergency ambulance on our way to our home to
Cainta, Rizal. My father refused to go to the Philippine Orthopedic Center
Hospital where I already made an early arrangement with a doctor who I met
there when I was still in our hospital exposure some few years ago as a Second
Year Novice (it was my third year in religious formation).
After almost two weeks of giving palliative care to my father, at home, we
realized that his condition was not improving. From abroad, my father went home
with a catheter and after almost two weeks, it was already draining brownish
urine from him. My father has been complaining a feverish feeling. My father
was too tall for us, imagine, almost a six foot tall man who cannot help
himself. He was too heavy for us to turn him from time to time on his bed.
Since it was still a vacation period, I was allowed by our congregation to
visit him every day. I was the one who clean my father, I wiped off clean his
fecal and put on his diaper from time to time. I also drained his urine but I
observed it has been getting worse. We did our best to take care of my father
at home but our best to take care a paralyzed person was not enough. We
realized that our best effort is the worst care that any hospital could provide
to any patients who suffered the same condition.
Finally, upon my father's approval, we decided to admit my father to the
Philippine Orthopedic Center. There, he was taken cared for almost a year. My
mother could not take care of my father 24 hours a day since my older sister,
Ate Dory, is still in need of her attention. God has blessed us with people--
Ate Vilma, the other one, and Denmar, who took care of my father during his
first stay in the hospital. They also have their family members admitted in the
hospital. After knowing our condition-- the weakening of my already aged
mother, my sick older sister and my younger sister who needed to work abroad,
me who was undecided yet if I would continue my seminary formation--with that,
they sympathized with us. I was able to pursue my theological studies for
another year. Every weekend, I visited my father. He was not improving but his
condition did not worsen further. We were happy already with his stabilized condition.
After a year, we already had another dilemma. Those who were taking care of my
father were already leaving the hospital. "Magpapagaling na lang daw yung
mga pasyente nila sa bahay." The hospital has already taught them how to
take care of their patient. Besides, every patient dreams of going home and
spend the rest of their lives with their family, no matter how. My father also clamors
for this. He asked us to bring him home, not only once but almost every week
when we visited him in the hospital. Until finally we gave up and asked his
doctors to release him from the hospital-- for him to go home.
We have been preparing for this. We knew from the beginning that it was a
desperate decision. My father begged us, there was no one to take care of him,
my mother cannot go most of the time to the hospital... nothing was left but to
take him home. I already decided to leave the seminary and promised myself to
dedicate my time in taking care of my father. We already, somehow, renovated
our home-- we constructed a second storey to provide an extra room where we can
accommodate my father. In Cainta, Rizal, floods is very usual during rainy
seasons that is why there is need for a second storey construction while my
father was in the hospital. With these good reasons, my father's doctors gave
in, it was early April, 2013 when he finally came home.
At home, after a month, my father was already suffering from a severe bedsore.
Before the end of April, my father already smelled like a decomposing dead
human. Ate Gina, our neighbor, helped my mother and Tita Cel to take care of my
father. She helped my mother and my aunt in turning my father every two hours
and in cleaning him every morning which I used to do whenever I am at home.
One Monday morning, before April ended, I visited my father at home. My mother
told me that my father's wound at his back was advancing so fast. Stenching, my
father was so helpless. I identified the wound from the moment I saw it, it’s a
bedsore. I have seen so much of this when I served at the Philippine Orthopedic
Center way back when I was a second year novice. I knew how fatal it was.
I told my mother that we need to bring my father to the hospital right away.
That afternoon, my auntie coordinated with the Cainta Municipal's Ambulance.
They brought my father to our local hospital. The surgeon was kind enough to do
an immediate operation. He cleaned my father's wound. I saw how the pulse of my
father dropped, and how his limbs turned violet. He was on a crucial stage.
Perhaps, if we did not come just right in time to the hospital, we might already
lose our father.
My father was admitted after the operation. I was the first one who took care
of him. The doctor told me to turn my father from side to side every two hours.
With him, that night, my father had been so complaining too much about his
miserable condition. I know how much uncomfortable it was being faced on the
one side of the bed for two hours. It could be back breaking painful, but I
can't do anything about it, the doctor reminded the nurses and us, the entire
family, to ensure that we would follow his prescription. My father started to
curse me. He shouted too loudly and the whole hospital was already awaken by
his endless complains. But all of them remained patient with us.
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Just to alleviate his pain, I just turned my father every thirty minutes. When
I turned him by 2:00 am, I found out that I needed to clean him. His fecal
almost already made his diaper burst. I grabbed a bottle of alcohol, a
pack of tissues, a new set of diaper and started cleaning him. He has been
complaining a lot that I had a hard time of doing what I supposed to do.
I ended sleepless that night. With so much a scold from my father. Well, this
is how it works every time I spend my time with him but I always remained so
patient, anyway, he is my father.
The next day, when my mother arrived with my auntie to feed my father, I asked
my aunt to go to the friend of Ate Gina. Ate Gina, before going to the hospital
mentioned that she has a friend, Cora by name, who used to take care of old
people. We went to Cora right away, and luckily she agreed to take care of my
father. The next day, ate Cora packed her things and immediately went with us
to the hospital. With her, a new friendship arose between us. She,
instantly, became a part of our small family.
Well, it didn't end just there. When we had our vacation from the congregation,
I also had a hard time in working for the claims of the benefits of my father.
Daily, I went to the Department of Foreign Affairs only to find out that my
father's paper which I submitted before through the DFA was already lost in
OWWA-Saudi Arabia. I badly needed to see a certain person in the DFA to ask her
to resubmit my father's document. Sadly, I spent three attempts, or three days,
just to see her personally. Her fellows told me that she'd been outside, she'd
been not feeling well, not around, with the boss... every reason of her absence
from her post was tried to be patched by these senseless and irritating
reasons. But, obviously, I remained calm.
From Cainta Hospital, just to go to the DFA, it would take me two hours just to
reach their office at OUMWA, located in the old building of the DFA. Frankly
she told me, "Marami nang case na ganyan akong hinawakan, pero wala pang
nakakakuha ng claims." We already filed my father's paper since last year,
October to be exact. She forwarded it last November 22, 2012. She should have
told us this matter earlier so that we could pursue with my father's company
who was so kind to help us. I kept myself calm. After taking a deep breath, I
told another plan. This is the plan of my father's company-- they just asked us
to submit the documents they needed: what they need are the hospital record of
my father being authenticated by the Saudi Embassy.
To have my father's papers authenticated by the Saudi Embassy, the DFA is
needed to coordinate with my father's paper. They agreed. But it means that-- I
need to start from the scratch.
The Cainta Hospital told us that we could already bring home my father. But
instead, we decided to transfer him to the Philippine Orthopedic Hospital for
his re-admittance there. I coordinated with the good doctor I met there, Dra.
Garcia,to accommodate my father. It took us three days to avail an ambulance
and when we came there, the Charity ward where my father was about to be
admitted was also jump-packed with the same case like what my father have...
most of the newly admitted patients were also suffering from bedsores.
After an almost a week of stay with the Cainta Hospital, since the Drug Store
where we buy my father's medicines was a little bit afar, my mother started to
complain about her aching knees. There was a time when she made an errand
thrice just to buy the medicines needed by my father. The doctor had been
prescribing medications from time to time, and every time we need to buy those
little by little prescriptions immediately for his or for the nurses' use.
Because of this, her knees were swollen and very fatigued. She had a very hard
time of walking to the point that she cannot stand anymore and complained about
her injured knees. I advised her to rest in our home instead of going with us
to the hospital and she did stay. I told her to put some ice on her knees as
her first aid, but she didn't believe my advice and she did not do it.
Time was running to short, my vacation was already expiring. I needed to finish
working with my father's papers. I needed to get the previous medical records
of my father from the Philippine Orthopedic Center which they generously gave
to me. The second step was to authenticate the documents to the Department of
Health but when I came to their office one unfortunate afternoon, there was a
big blackout which hits the Luzon region. That was before the 2013 election.
After the DOH authentication, I needed to ask a professional translation to
translate the document of my father to Arabic language. Luckily, the Department
of Foreign Affairs already have a staff who would do that for a minimal fee of
Php300.00 per page. The entire documents almost have nine pages. The translator
told me that it would took him two more days to finish translating it. It was
Thursday, this would exclude Saturday and Sunday. The following Monday was an
election day. He told me to come back by Tuesday afternoon.
I went back with my aunt that Tuesday. In the OMWA office, I introduced my
auntie to the good old fellow, Sir Cooper, I met there whom I have submitted
the authenticated translation of the DOH papers. He gave us a referral for the
authentication of the documents, he asked us to go to the new building of the
DFA for the 'red ribbon,' it was already 3:00 in the afternoon. We need to
return the papers to him that same afternoon.
We met another young lady, the good old fellow introduced us to her. She was
also working on the papers of her father who had an accident abroad and died
immediately. She went with us. We all rode a taxi, when we reached the new DFA
building, we see right-away the person referred by the good old man. We
were assisted, and after half an hour, we find ourselves returning to the old
DFA building. But the old man already left. His assistants, who were on-the-job
training students accepted my submitted paper.
The next day was Wednesday, I was still doing some errands in our home. I got
so many wounds from fixing my mother's curtain rods. I planned to bring my
mother to the hospital to have her knees checked by a doctor when a call from
the DFA's good old man rung our phone. I needed to go there immediately to pay
for the Php 1,100.00 authentication fee of the Saudi Embassy. The good old man
said to me to pick up the documents next week, but I won't be at Manila anymore
so I delegate it to my aunt instead. The good old man agreed to give the
documents to my aunt.
On the other hand, when I went to the DFA, my aunt went along with my mother to
accompany her to a bone specialist, also in the Philippine Orthopedic Center.
My aunt also had her knees checked. Both of them went to bone density x-ray. My
mother's result was not that serious unlike my aunt's which we found out that
she was already developing arthritis. The doctor-specialist gave them medicines
to take. My mother was asked to take a rest and plus the ice therapy which she,
at first, refused. On the other hand, my aunt was advised to see the doctor-specialist
from time to time.
On Saturday, I already prepared my things at the Eymard Formation Center.
Most of my packed things were the things that I would be bringing along
to Cagayan de Oro where I will be having my pastoral exposure. The next day,
Sunday, May 19, 2013, I visited my father.
Like what I have said earlier, my knees were really trembling. Going to the
Orthopedic Hospital from EFC was time consuming for there was a heavy traffic
and it took me two hours to reach my father. Before heading to his ward, I went
to a nearby Jollibee and bought his favorite Jolly-hotdog bun. I bought french
fries for Ate Cora and an extra large softdrink for me.
With these, before I reached the bed of my father, they already saw me from
afar. My father was being towel bath by Ate Cora. We ate together. I told my
father that I am about to leave for Cagayan de Oro. He looked into my eyes. I
thought he would refuse but he gave me his blessings instead. "One year
lang naman... madali lang yon."
I told Ate Cora to take care of my father. She promised me that she will do her
best that both of them will wait for my return.
I don't have a crying or 'balat sibuyas' attitude so I don't cry. But I'm so
happy. The blessing of my father and my mother are my inspiration to continue
my priestly vocation. I always ask God to be with my parents. As their child, I
know how important my presence to them would be. But instead, they offer me to
God together with my family's brokenness-- all our trials, failures and
longings. With my very beloved Blessed Virgin Mary as one of my mothers, I
always ask her to always embrace my father for me, to console my mother for me
and to be with my sick Ate Dory and my faraway little sister Ginalyn. I asked
Saint Joseph, the guardian of Mary and Jesus to provide for us, especially now
that I will be gone for a very long time.
Prayers are the only things that would bind me with my family. I fully trust in
God's providence. I see this not only as a challenge but a way of life which
God is inviting me to live with... our family's suffering--starting with my
older sister, Ate Dory, since her childhood; and now with my paralyzed father--
all of these have deepen my faith and trust in the abundance of graces God has
provided for us. I asked God to provide people to help us... in due time... He
sent them to us. They shared my family's brokenness... they shared my
struggling vocation... they shared the love of God which made us all hopeful
and more loving... always in pain yet peaceful in the hands of God.
Seeing all of these responses of God, I felt blessed and being guided. I admit
that I am afraid... but God never failed me from the beginning of my struggles
where I almost gave up and when I almost lose everything. It gave me more
reasons to let go and let God to do His will on me.
Truly, there is order in every chaos. I may not understand all these things
right now, but I and my family will always remain trusting in the ways of God.
Jesus Christ in the Blessed Sacrament... we fully trust in you.
Br. Dennis DC. Marquez, SSS
