I am this close to disowning myself. Why the fuck wasn’t I able to think of it before? Now I’m starting to question myself, if I really deserve the letters R and N at the end of my name. I loathe myself. I loathe that I didn’t consider even a percentage of thinking that it “might” be Teta-fucking-nus. It pains me to look back and see my grandmother’s face, trying to endure every excruciating muscle spasms, but failing every time; attempting to hydrate her upper GI tract through sips of water, and pursuing to breathe normally. It’s heart-breaking to think how helpless she was, my dear old grandmother. We all brought her to a well-known institution thinking they’d be able to provide the right diagnosis we missed. To our dismay, not only did they make us wait for approximately 12 hours just for a room, but also gave no definite diagnosis throughout her hospital stay. There we were, thinking they’d be able to detect her disease and treat the underlying cause/s. Guess not.

Dejectedly, these are now futile stuff. My grandmother passed away at exactly 9:37 am on the 7th of October 2014. She’s now with our grandfather and uncle in heaven, watching over us--the family she left behind. I had no idea how real agony felt like until the day of her burial, inside the church and it was my turn to give my blessing over her coffin. That was without a doubt the most melancholic moment to me, because I knew right then and there that that was it, that’s the last time I am ever going to see her again.


Right now I guess it’s safe to say that I am in the process of accepting everything, even though I’ll still say everything happened so fast if you ask me. But that’s life I guess, God only let us borrow this life and it’s still important to put it to good use and be a good person and make happy memories as a person.

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