Thursday, March 11, 2010

Our Plan

P40 and beyond. That's how rich I feel we are right now.

It may seem so trivial considering how big cancer is but any Mom can relate to me when I say that I am ecstatic that my son passed the Ateneo Grade School entrance exam! It could have been any school to be quite honest and I would have been happy to have come to a decision considering all of the limitations his illness has presented: late application, late enrollment, financial constraints, possible social trauma, fatigue, frequent absences because of his future chemo schedules, etc.

But I left it up to God with a little intervention knowing fully well that He helps those who help themselves. I looked all over and I bothered so many schools along the way just to find the right fit. I was told that a small school can be more considerate of his situation and I can probably afford it more (or so I thought because some have really reasonable prices considering the spectrum of expertise and credentials and unlimited possibilites the school can provide for a thirsty brain of a child) and Mio would probably shine more but at the back of my head, I had this nagging feeling of pursuing the only thing concrete in the vision I had of how I would want Mio to be. For as far as I can remember, the moment I knew that I was carrying a boy in my tummy, having gone through my pregnancy while in college, I got a lot of snide remarks saying, "dapat Atenista yan ah!" imagine the pressure I put on myself! I was a pregnant single woman hardly out of college and I had to plan how to get from that point to sending a child to a university.

I thought that if I worked hard enough I can raise enough savings and buy him an educational plan so that in six years time, I had enough toenroll him in Ateneo soon as he's qualified to enter the Prep Level. I did however consider putting him in a co-ed school or the number 1 exclusive boys school in San Juan one preschool after the other if only to resist being biased towards my Alma Mater. But I just felt that given the kind experience I had in Ateneo and my mom's when she was sending my Kuya there back in the 70s, and recalling all the good people I've met and who have been of so much help throughout the years I've been raising Mio, all I could think of was Magis. It sounds so full of s#!+ but really. If I wanted Mio to grow up with a good Catholic foundation which I felt I compromised along with the tons of new things he could have learned while I was home-schooling him; if I wanted Mio to experience being of service to others; if I wanted Mio to truly embrace the ideal of being the best he could be, I ought to put him in an educational environment that would be just as competitive in spite of cancer.

I was told that Mio is too late to apply already. I was told that Mio might not be able to cope with the demands of a big school as such. I was told so many things but I still had to try. Like in all things that I do, I never would like to think that I did not try hard enough to give him the best I could. And so I did. I braved all odds and after six school visits from QC to Ortigas, I said I had to drop off a letter to the Headmaster and appeal Mio's case. Even the lady in his office told me they're closed for enrollment. Even the Registrar who called me in to say that the Headmaster granted our appeal. She said that of course they'd give him a chance but that Mio might probably be in for another heartbreak if he doesn't pass. I had full confidence that my son was smart enough. Healthy enough, I wasn't but was sure as hell that I'll keep him in top shape to do so. I assured her that academically, my son will not have to be excused, they just had to be kind to his condition, him wearing a mask and help him develop his social skills while being around so many kids. But deep in my heart I feared that it wasn't meant to be. I also worry about the money and up to now I wonder how on earthI I'll be able to enroll him. But because I want him to lead a normal life, I pray everyday and trust that the Lord wouldn't make him pass if I wouldn't be able to sustain his schooling there. And yet He did. 

Its nice to know that some of the things we planned, in spite of the hurdles of cancer, illness, monetary limitations and learning backlogs, my son made it. As if he wasn't sick at all! He walked out of the examiner's room tugging my dress and said, "I answered in complete sentences Mom." Just like I told him he should. 

I am overwhelmed with gratitude a million times over like I won an award and I am so proud of Mio. Its preschool, I know. But in spite of him being sick, his thirst for knowledge amazes me everyday and I am so excited for him. My son will gain new friends again and impress new teachers. My son will bring home homework and have a routine that's so different from the hospital and chemo setting! My son will soon be free to play with other boys and hopefully run along with them and play in the playground! My son will join clubs and take Mommy toUAAP games (hehe)!

I am so excited and I have my Lord to thank and all those who pray everyday that Mio will be well. Look at him now. He is an atenista and although a scholarship is a long shot I will work tirelessly to be able to enroll him and provide him with all that is good for him. Going to school and making him well simultaneously.


Posted by jazzy at 3:11 AM | 0 comments   Links to this post
Sunday, February 28, 2010

Between P40 and Poverty

Seriously.

My entry's title was almost Between P40 and 2pm. Mio's been up since 11am and he offered to do his E-nopi drills. He averages 3 workbooks a day but now he barely finished his first and is dragging on to his second. He fell asleep aimlessly throwing a tantrum that he doesn't want to go to school "because the leukemia is making me tired", he said.

I almost gave up and had to revert our long-term plans. Although we're thriving on P40 pesos until such time that my checks from work clear by Wednesday, I'm still on the look-out for the best source of education for this smarty one. All kids get tired with school but I am very disappointed that he is right now. I think home-schooling isn't working even if it meant spending more time with him. I don't think its one task I'm qualified for. And I don't want to compromise what he can learn. I just finished drafting a letter to the headmaster of Ateneo Grade School begging them to reconsider if Mio can still go through an application process (and then I'll worry about the cost of sending him there because P40 can't cut it right?) I said in the letter that if God will it for him to go to Ateneo like pre-cancer plans were, then He will provide too.

Like yesterday at the hospital. We were discharged at 1130 and I had to rush to billing to make sure that the hospital bills don't add up from when I last checked because I just had enough cash on hand for THAT. I had to pay the rest in coins and ask my partner to pay P3,000 more through her credit card and ask the doctors (Dr. Racho and Dr. Imelda Luna, the new doctor on board for Pediatric Infectuous Diseases) if we can pay them when Mio comes back on Wednesday to start his Maintenance Chemo for their Professional Fees. Thankfully they obliged. Er go, our last 40 pesos.

Today, I already delegated my shoot to a co-stylist since I prepared for "in case Mio's still confined" Monday. Now I owe her another day's salary as well as the assistant's. I'm just lucky that these people I work with are very understanding and they really do help me get the work done. They always tell me I chew more than what I can swallow but I always say that when work opportunities come along, I am in no position to say no as long as its decent and it pays. For now, managing the cash in is a long road but the universe constantly reassures me that God provides JUST ENOUGH of what we need.

I'm so disappointed today because I do realize that I was more patient with Mio when we were in the hospital. Today, although he's still in pain because of his mouth sore and he complains every time I try to make him gargle and drink his 6-hour dose of Mycostatin, he can talk gibberish and he whines non-stop! I hate it that he used his "I have leukemia" card when it came down to homework. I literally had to throw back the "i'm spending so much time with you already, I didn't work today" card.

It's frustrating and depressing when you don't have money and yet you're still worrying about things you need to spend on like his treatment on Wednesday, work and his schooling that we have yet to decide on. My partner said he doesn't have a hand in the decision regarding his school and cited several of our schoolmates who had to deal with diseases when we were starting out our early years in Miriam. So yeah. Mio should be able to survive big school and he shouldn't have a choice in it. He'll thank me for it in the future, right?

Manic Monday on the first day of March. 

Then again I should end this entry with a list of things to be grateful for to offset this depressing mood:
1. Mio's out of of the hospital and his blood count is back to normal;
2. Mio doesn't have fever anymore;
3. Working Girls the movie is about to wrap up our shooting so I should have more time for him after this;
4. Agua is gearing up for more shooting days for Andi, which means I have a new project to work on;
5. Wedding Expo is this March too so that hopefully means more bridal bookings = more work;
6. Alessa is working on the Mio Fights Cancer Online Store Launch at Muruve on the 17th;
7. Pino Resto Bar is housing the StART With Mio artworks and there are still prints up for grabs;
8. Mom's 60th is on the 9th and the family has reasons to celebrate something this month;

The list can go on and on. I hope Mio wakes up from his rare afternoon nap in a better mood. Will you still pray for him even when he's cranky?
Posted by jazzy at 9:46 PM | 0 comments   Links to this post
Thursday, February 25, 2010

Back to Homebase

Mio's supposed to be recuperating this week, chemo free, so he can proceed to the last phase of his treatment, the Maintenance Phase. In fact, with all my excitement, I have managed to look into at least four schools trying to figure out which one fits our budget, allows his so in-between age, understands his condition and allows for us to spend more time together geographically.

Unfortunately, his fever hasn't subsided which alarms Dr. Racho and brings us back to have an overnight stay at the hospital for blood transfusions.

I sobbed soon as I got the sms from my Mom that he had to be confined. We're down to our last few thousands in the bank account and I was in the middle of so much work, my entire family has been scampering to adjust, if not assist in Mio's schedule, I had all these mixed emotions of feeling ashamed and hard up.

And as if we had operators ensuring that we weren't put on hold in the line of prayers, I got a call in the middle of a stare from an overseas number. I answered my mobile like I would when I have an anonymous number ringing in the hopes that its a client inquiring for my services and on the other end of the line, an angel spoke of coming across this blog just yesterday and that she and her friends from far off Quatar would like to help. (Thank you Abi)

I recall a note I got from a friend based in Australia just yesterday saying how Mio constantly reminds her and her community that as one, we should be able to rely on each other because a woman she has never met just knocked on her doorstep and handed her a few dollars and said it was for Mio... and I feel ridiculous just having felt ashamed to be where we are right now.

I have resented having to ask for more assistance knowing well that we have received so much already. But more than that, I feel renewed today. Now that we are making the most out of the comforts of the hospital facilities while my son is hooked on his IV singing to the tunes of the chipmunks. 

The nurses here were so happy to see him again, its like a homecoming! They said he still looked so handsome with his bald head, making his lashes pop out more. My anonymous middle east caller said he seemed to smart and his eyes said so much in his photos. Mio even offered to do his homework while waiting for the blood to be prepared and his dinner (which he wasn't able to eat because of his sore right smack in the middle of his tongue). He was content to see me walk through his door. My Mom said he has been so impatient all day while waiting for the CBC results and the room, all he wanted was to have me beside him in an instant.

Once again, I am overwhelmed. I worry about tomorrow less than I do when I agitate over work undone or when I linger at the thought that there is never enough time to prepare for the next day's work. Today is about waiting for Mio to recover.

And I must say that my son's disposition in all this makes me ashamed of how adults handle anxiety and our daily troubles. Children indeed inspire people more than we give them credit for.

Please continue praying that he surpasses this and that we get discharged soon.

Being a freelancer, knowing that today was a holiday got me running to the bank before heading to the hospital to get a hold of all the money we would need to pay for tonight's confinement. My eyes were still bloodshot so I wore a smile and huge specs over while waiting for the teller to hand me the cash. She candidly said as soon as she folded Mio's passbook, "wala ng pera si Mio..." (Mio doesn't have money anymore...) as if she knew my son first-hand. I sheepishly smiled and in passing mentioned that he is currently confined. She reassures me as if it was a pat on the back, "magkakaron ulit yan." (there will be money in his account again) :) I'd like to think that it is because she knows that I work hard for our money and help ourselves. But humbly I acknowledge that there are so many operators calling on God to make Mio better soon. How can he not be?

My parents and siblings are safely home now. Mio and I are enjoying the last hours of the evening watching his usual DVDs as I type away. What to do tomorrow and how I can manage to do work from here to there is a mystery. But I am sure that my son is in good hands. Not in just in mine. But in the loving arms of God and his children all over the world.



Thank you everyone. Again and again and again... I hope you never tire of finding inspiration from my son's happy disposition and the fact that he is getting better, shedding hope to those who may feel that life is too hard. I have the privilege of knowing that because I am blessed with his love for me. I hope that you continue helping me make things better for Mio. Like all moms would do and more. God. If I could only describe the overwhelming feeling and give justice to all the blessings; if I could only enumerate and count the number of people who prove that goodness is innate in humans... I would. Really. I would. For now, I hope these suffice. Good night.
Posted by jazzy at 6:44 AM | 0 comments   Links to this post
Saturday, February 20, 2010

Easy Like Sunday Morning

or afternoon.

Its been one of those weeks. Hectic dyslexic schedule topped with Mio's daily injections and a fever to monitor 24/7. I text Dr. Racho at ungodly hours just to make sure I don't have to rush Mio to the ER. The anxiety makes my teeth grind in my sleep. I've sold my computer, old phones and God knows what else I've sold at Greenhills just to tide us this week. His rigorous medication, constant illness and the logistics that goes with it is milking me dry. Work's up to my throat but its not like the work that a single female can do will ever be enough to provide the basic needs of a five year old boy--school, food, shelter--what more one with cancer?

I'm not sulking :) I just wanted to paint a picture of how hard it was and how that picture in my head makes me delighted at the painting we're drawing at the moment. This afternoon, we finished watching Alvin and the Chipmunks and his temperature is down to 37.1 its a far cry from last night's 40.2 its still slightly burning but he's eating and is no longer vomitting, we can proceed with his last injection today and get his CBC which will hopefully reveal a really good blood count. A promise of his last IT for this month tomorrow makes us so excited to see Mio regaining his actual energy level (100% please!) and having an entire month to plan his lessons and to dos, hopefully even get to include play dates. After tomorrow, we just have to get his chemo once a month until he turns 8 years old in 2012.

I'm mapping out his schooling now as I think I have to admit that homeschooling him isn't working out. I do try my damn best but Mio's such a smart boy, he deserves the full attention of teachers and the vast knowledge of various brains to contribute to his mental growth. I need to find him a school we can afford simultaneous to his treatments.

I'm excited that this coming week shows very little schedule conflicts. I can attend to his chemo tomorrow without worrying about other commitments except for a 6pm class I need to conduct. The rest of the days are just meetings and pre-production work for a shoot on Thursday. That shows a lot of time to be with Mio but also means that there will be very little income that will tide us that week.

That's ok. The worst problem is about to be over. You'll hire me for work if I need to break my back for this little boy, won't you?

Have a blessed Sunday everyone :)
Posted by jazzy at 10:27 PM | 0 comments   Links to this post
Sunday, February 14, 2010

Love Like You Know It

Mio cried when we got home from our Valentine's dinner.

"You didn't get me anything for Valentine's Day, Mom."

It sounds materialistic but you see, my son is quite thoughtful. He would have made me three different drawings as his Valentine's gift since January already.

And it does break my heart because I'm trying damn hard not to spoil him and buy toys left and right considering how hard it has been lately on our finances. Its difficult to admit knowing well how hard I work and it doesn't make sense that we hardly have money anymore but realistically, we really had none. Its so hard to make him realize that we're so richly loved and that everything else is insignificant. I'm selling valuables and gadgets now. Its a shame how I beg and do stuff just to get by. My only consolation is that he is indeed getting better.



He had fever after his first dose of Cytarabin, the medicine vial that has to be injected beneath his skin everyday. That made me run in between work and monitor his temperature. I was really panicking because we could barely pay for his chemo everyday, I'd have to beg if we had to be confined again. Thankfully his fever subsided overnight. It was as if he just had to have fever to stop me from working.


 
 


It broke his heart more when I told him that I won't be there at chemo today. I have to be on my way to an 18-hour long taping while simultaneously coordinating a styling gig, its ridiculous how anyone can keep a schedule like mine. I can't say no to any opportunity, you know. Its money to pay those chemo sessions, buy those medicines, put gas in my Dad's car so Mio can be brought to and from, pay the tutor... stuff like that. I have to provide for him on so many levels I just want to cry just thinking of how much harder I have to work just so we can get by.
 

Mio was playing his DS while listening to this Tigger and Pooh show and he says out of the blue, as if he was paying attention to the show, "Tigger doesn't realize that his real family is his friends."

Its knowing that my son can see things like this assures me that although he cries like I'm gonna die tomorrow at the thought of not spending time or that I can't hug him tight "coz Anmom doesn't hug me as tight as you do, you're better at hugging" assures me that he understands.

That's all that matters, right?
Posted by jazzy at 2:30 PM | 0 comments   Links to this post
Sunday, February 7, 2010

Brave Today

Mio finally shaved his head today. The entire time after lunch was under the scorching heat of the sun as we attended a beautiful girl's birthday party. Yet Mio refused to take his spongebob cap off because he was embarrassed, he said.

It was quick yet it was tearful.

He was pouting his lips the entire time the men were hovering his perspired head. He kept asking if we can go already. A tear rolled on his cheek and he asked me, "when will my hair grow back Mom?"

I assured him that by the time he turns six years old in April, he'll have hair on his head again. "Are you sure Mom?"

I hugged him from behind as he was sitting on my lap the entire time. Another guy was blowing cold air on him so I had to cover his eyes. I couldn't help it. A tear rolled down my cheek as well. And the rest of the salon was probably wondering why I was crying over a haircut. Unless they knew that my son had cancer.

He soon regained his happy disposition when we walked up my studio. His Tita Clems readily played with him while he drank his milk fix for the afternoon and she managed to take a picture which I failed at because he was embarrassed early this afternoon. I hovered at him and kissed him all over his head, "yay baby! More space to kiss you!"

"Mom! You're making my head cold!"

That's a perk I think of having him bald. More kisses. More love. It does signal that its all going to be over soon.

Oh! And I suddenly remembered he had a mole on his head. Hihi.
Posted by jazzy at 2:39 AM | 0 comments   Links to this post
Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Occupation: Inspiration


Life lessons from Mio occur on a daily basis so I as a mother feel very fortunate to have these realizations precisely because I happen to be his mom.

His falling hair signaled that he is indeed a child with cancer. Holding back the tears I tried to figure out why they're here now more often than when injections and fatigue hit him and our family only to be ashamed at the thought that I might be superficially afraid of the trauma Mio might feel when people react to him. But he is unfazed and he braves everyday like any child is--excited and sometimes confused, but joyful nonetheless.

If I haven't shared this, one of our elevator conversations were "Mom what did you want to be when you were small? A Makeup Artsit or a Mom?"

Is that a trick question? I thought.

"I never thought I'd be a makeup artist but I knew wanted to be an artist one way or another. I didn't choose to be a Mom because you chose me."

Was that a good answer?

I hope it was because Mio said, "Me? How?"

Trying to be as honest as possible, I never wanted Mio to feel I was resentful of having him at such an early age and so even if he's still young, I answer questions like this as if he'd remember I told him these things even when he's older.

"When you were an angel and chose to come here on earth and bless us with your presence, you chose me to be your Mommy."

"I was an angel?!" he exclaimed.

I think he is for more reasons than one.

Like this other elevator conversation we had once, while I was picking on my always-mistaken-as-an-expectant-mother's-belly tummy and uttering,"I'm so fat!" again and again and again. My son tells me,

"what's wrong with being fat?"

If everyone thought like this, there's no reason for anyone to be insecure, bald hair, beer belly, acne face and all.

He also makes me proud by the fact that he seems to be growing up with the lack of prejudice and judgement in spite of his tender age. I just know, like what I've said before, that all I want is for him to grow up to be compassionate and void of malice towards others so I try to keep him open-minded without forcing issues onto him. A lebian friend has been our constant companion for a while now and upon entering a restaurant the waiter accidentally greets her "good afternoon, sir."

Mio, unlike other five year olds who might have ignored such a remark stated what's NOT obvious. "Why did he call you sir?" 

Last but not the least, yesterday as I try to convince him to get his hair shaved, I tried to pull off all coercive tactics and even said, "if you shave your head bald you'll look cooler Mio!"

Those things you'd like kids care so much about. My son cried out, "but I don't want cooler Mom. I just want to be myself."

And I just want to cry each time I remind myself that my son has the wisdom of a forty year old because none of us or at least only some realize these little things that we take for granted.

So we indulged him today with one of his wishes: a picnic at a park with his cousins, complete with a checkered blanket and his favorite tuna sandwich and juice. Not only because he was so brave to get a haircut and for planning a "lets go bald" day this weekend with his titos and grandad. But because he deserves it for all that he is.

 
  
  
 

Posted by jazzy at 8:30 AM | 0 comments   Links to this post
Sunday, January 31, 2010

Hair Everywhere


On our pillows, in the basin of wate when he bathes, at the back of his shirt and on the plate when he eats....

It has begun and although its not as drastic as I've seen it to be on the tv screen or the movies, its just as devastating as I was told it would be.

My son has started to lose his hair and as much as I try to brave him for it, all he could ask was when his hair was going to come back. He won't even entertain the idea of shaving it all off to save him the hearbreak of seeing his hair deteriorate right before his eyes, like he could understand how that meant at all.

Tears swell up as I pick up the strands of hair from the back of his shirt one by one, nonchalantly doing it without seeming fixated as we watch a movie, eat a burger or drive in the car.

"My son's chemo is working, we're nearing the end of his treatments," these are the things I tell myself when I feel like cying. "He can't see you crying over falling hair, how do you think he'd feel?"

He's five years old and he has to go through this. I'm praying very hard he doesn't remember how hard this is, I hope he just recalls how loved he has been throughout this ordeal.

We're on chemo break this week so I'm taking him on a picnic as he requested. He wants me to make not maanghang tuna sandwich, bake pie and bring him juice (for some odd reason, my son is really impressed with my "cooking" skills, you know). I'm taking my ECG, stress and bone density tests too while Mio's away from the hospital this week just to be sure I'm not sick of anything too, what with the sleepless nights throughout the first month of the year and heartburn attacks. I can't afford not to work and its so hard to make ends meet.

I really feel like crying. Its 5am and I'm up working. Thankfully my son is sound asleep with my parents. He's so uncomfortable I just want it all to go away.
Posted by jazzy at 1:56 PM | 0 comments   Links to this post
Sunday, January 24, 2010

New Year Prayer


Dear God,

Grant us enough time that we may be able to accomplish everything that you have tasked us to do. Like working so we have money to fund Mio's chemo; time to squeeze that in between his rigorous chemo schedule; time to rest to brave the next day; time to continue being grateful; time to acknowledge that our problems are good problems; time to stop and think of....

How precious Mio's cross is. Really, Mio's turning six in April and I can't imagine how we can celebrate his birthday without recognizing how wondrous it is that if falls two days after Easter. How do we send a message that the beauty of Mio's existence is just as great as the meaning of Easter, of new life. A life that is renewed everyday. Most friends when asked how they're kids are would answer they're makulit, or how they've been doing in school... I have to answer each and everytime that he's getting better. Everyday. My son is better than the day before. Like his disease is staple and he just has to get better. When you think about it, all kids are getting better everyday. Sometimes, the normal ones most parents have tend to look like they're getting worse as they grow older but really. ALL kids get better everyday. Not just Mio.

Grant me too the strength to be patient. Grant this too upon my parents, those who day in and day out share the burden of raising Mio. In their old age, grant them the wisdom of grandparents to continue finding the joy in their apo. Sometimes during Mio's chemo he'd be too demanding and would shout out of impatience himself. My Mom almost cried and prayed for the same virtue.

Grant me the willingness to believe that Mio will continue his healing with flying colors. His hair is as resilient as his soul and his doctor and the doctor's secretary joke about it. But everyday that his hair is intact--thick, sweaty and trickling at the back of his neck--I find comfort that he has no reason to be scared. 

I pray again for enough time. Enough time to spend with my son. So that when that time comes, that his hair will fall, or when his tummy hurts and his chest tightens, I will hear him complain instead of having to ask and be called "annoying" by my son for asking the same questions over the phone--grant me enough time so that I can be there and comfort him when the time comes that he will be scared when his hair falls.

If I can ask for more, maybe you can just save him his hair. He's more handsome with it anyway.

 Mio bald on his first year. Bagay ba?

I asked his doctor when he can go back to school because his math tutoring supplement is getting harder, he said. What can you expect, its supposed to be a supplement rather than his sole source of learning but often these days, I couldn't find the time to teach him. The doctor said that June might be a good time, what with Mio's fast recovery and positive response to the aggressive medicines. I am ellated at the thought that my son can go to school again, I don't even mind if he'd have to endure his classmates constantly asking him if he's sick because he has to wear a mask. Like when this little girl asked if he was sick, he bravely answered, "I have leukemia." Brave or annoyed because the girl was bothering him from his busy playtime.

I pray that my son will always be sweet and find the joy in his life. He calls in busy and cries when his Cheetos are all eaten up. He draws me hearts and sad faces because of the many days I am out and at work. He asked me one idle afternoon, "Mom, when you were small, did you want to be a Makeup Artist or a Mommy?"

I said, "I wanted to be an artist so I studied well and I am one now. But no one gets to choose being a Mommy. Being a Mommy is a blessing, Anak." I said, as if it was the wisest and wittiest thing I ever said. "What? How is that Mom?"

"Because God's angels choose their Mommies when its time for them to go to earth and bless people. Like you chose Mom!" "Am I an angel, Mom?"



Dear Lord, I know you yourself would answer, YES. So please hear this Mommy's prayer.


AMEN.

PS. Please keep me safe as I ride a plane out of town for another shoot while my son goes through chemo simultaneously. Keep me alive so I can come home to him safely. Thanks God!

 

PPS. Paki-lift narin po ang sandamakmak na trabaho since these are what needs to be done so I can help myself answer my own prayers.

Posted by jazzy at 7:52 AM | 0 comments   Links to this post
Thursday, January 14, 2010

Intense


"Wake up Mio, we have chemo today. Let's take a bath?"

I still need to rest Mom, its too early.

"I know. So lets get this over and done with."

Mio woke up to a great Monday morning, the second of this year to be exact. He cried on New Year's Day when he realized that it was already January. "Will I get kalbo already Mom?"


We've started our intensification phase of his treatment. His liver and cbc tests reveal everything is normal as per usual (praise God) but Dr. Racho isn't being complacent about his medication. I'm mapping out another month-long calendar of his oral medicine and trying to figure out how to schedule his tutoring in between his every other day chemo sessions.

"I'm not yet ready! I'm not done praying!" Mio cries out to the lab technician, bent on postponing the innevitable justifying that he's not used to it anymore that's why its more owie. I really wouldn't know but my patience seems to be in salisi to his improvement. Either that or I'm just as scared as he is because Dr. Racho keeps reminding us to take note of his urine--it turns red after doxo which brings Mio to tears thinking his wiwi is blood! Thank God it was just..... orange. Haha. Funny sometimes. Or that's just how we're supposed to look at things sometimes.

He's also taking 7.5mL of Benadryl for allergy precaution. Apparently, most kids on chemo become allergic to the second dose of Leunase and break in rashes and itches all over. So his last drip took a hefty 5 hour sitting session! My Kuya's birthday pansit was soggy when they came home and my parents along with Mio were soooooooooo tired. But that's not over! We've got three or four more weeks of this schedule, it truly is intense. His mood is just as intense, whining and complaining at the slightest discomfort. 5 hours of making him comfortable while he's hooked on the IV can be really taxing but its the least I can do, right? Thankfully we were told that the luxuries of kids his age are necessities for kids like him so his titos, titas and ninongs and ninangs have invested in making him enjoy his chemo time the best way possible with gadgets like these. "You're the luckiest kid on chemo son, you know." I constantly remind him.



The bank account's depleting too. But thankfully work's never stale. I have full trust that my hardwork and labor will reap its rewards full throttle at the right time because God provides when needed. So help us God.
Posted by jazzy at 12:56 AM | 0 comments   Links to this post
Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Faith in the face of Cancer

I've been spending time with my childhood friends who've known me all my life and know me better than I do myself. At the end of much anxiety and worry they have over Mio because the events in our life seem to have happened due to my lack of foresight or the abundance of drama and "living for the now" kind of attitude towards life, I'd like to think that I have assured them that there is integrity and whole-heartedness in the decisions I make regardless of how they feel them to be a mouthful of justifications for untraditional methods of raising Mio and dealing with his illness that isn't as simple as a cough or a cold.


I share with you valuable thoughts I had that have graced my mind that I consider to be snippets of wisdom only our unique life could have provided us with:


Knowing fully well that my son is unique and is going through a tough time throughout his crucial formative years, I struggle hard in this less than ideal situation of ours with juggling time, pratical decisions and instilling values in his innocent mind. My son as have been said, is wiser beyond his years and although I do not take credit for it, I "justify" our life experiences--mine for that matter--that may or may not affect him directly by enumerating or analyzing the life plan I've led into these ideals in spite of the difficulties surrounding our world.


1. Integrity

Fighting with Mio over a toy versus giving in to his petulent whining is his luxury for being merely a five year old. Disciplining and yet indulging him at the same time is a tug of war on so many levels but I insist on arguing nonetheless because I'd rather he knows why and how decisions are made based on what's good for him. Its a long and arduous task of debating with him for the rest of his life infused with drama but I gladly go through them in spite of the heartaches because I want him to learn early on that he should and will have to make decisions for small and big things eventually.


Saying sorry is not as simple as saying the word. I make it a point he knows what I'm apologizing for in spite of the risk of it sounding like a fake apology or that he knows what he's supposed to apologize for the best way his vocabulary can express it to be so. That for me is integrity and is important so Mio will grow up to be responsible, the most responsible way I know how.


2. Honesty

Whether its about how I feel, what I do, where I am and who I'm with, I include Mio and make him figure even in the littlest way as telling him or letting him know. This encompasses the harsh and cruel realities of his medication, what's going on in his body and the perilous ins and outs of my work and personal life (in a kid-friendly and understandable explanation of course).


This kind of transparency and lack of suspense and sheltering, in my opinion, makes for valuable life skills in weaving and making sense out of what he is or might have to go through. In the end, I'd like to think that my son has that sense of openness and is aware of even the less ideal facets of life or of other people, his mother included, that will equate to him formulating his own path and perception of justice, of family and of the people he chooses to be involved with or include in his life as friends or co-workers eventually.



3. Goodness. I was told wasn't a value at all. But it is part of what I have been trying to instill in my five year old the past years and now more than ever. If I were to describe what goodness is for me, what makes a person essentially good by nature it would be allowing his gut to trigger him to avoid malice or thinking ill of others, the absence of judgement and prejudice and ensuring no harm is inflicted to man, nature or to himself the best way he knows how and hopefully lead him to developing a cancer-free flow of blood from his compassionate heart.


Where does faith figure in this formative life plan intended for Mio?


The onset of cancer has triggered a momentary lapse of faith where I end asking God the why's and how's on dealing with the cards i'm dealt with. My own faith is nurtured as I grow older and I am fortunate to have been raised with a truly conservative family, a humble home and intelligent yet grounded sets of friends from a generally Catholic or Christ-centered communities.


It is only recently that my faith has been opened to its aspect of full surrender. I have realized that living in the now, although not practically admirable or beneficial in the vital future has been my inner core's way of offsetting the arrogance that is hindering the higher being I consider in my life to fully work His mysterious and wondrous ways in my life. I let things walk in and take it full throttle in spite of the hurdles or the simple fact that i could say no, precisely because my faith will tide us through it all along with the learnings these life experiences equip us with. That much I know about faith. That much I leave to Mio to realize when he's older. That much faith--and a whole lot of it if it is to be quantified at all--I integrate in the way I raise Mio.

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Saturday, January 2, 2010

Videos: Mio Fights Cancer Benefit Concert

Didn't realize until now that I could embed the videos in the blog. Thank you Ate Mae, Iz and Patlaroco for the youtube uploads. So for those who missed the concert, or to those who miss the concert ;p please enjoy these as we reminisce the highlights of our 2009 at the start of this wonderful year, cancer recession and all. With God's grace and blessings such as friends like these, we CAN fight cancer again and again and again :)

















PS. Mio's playing a video game and whenever his players dies, I'd scream! He said, "why are you worried about me, its just a game Mom!" isn't that cute? Of course it was a chance to reassure him that, "Aren't you glad that even if its just a game I worry about you and think of your well-being? What more in real life?!" Yon.
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Thursday, December 31, 2009

Resolutions

Year in year out I've been blogging about what I could have done and what I missed out and swear I wouldn't once the next year kicks in.

This year though, all I could think of is what help we've had and what opportunities we had this year. 2009 marked such a good year of capping off a good career with Summit Media, starting a kick as job at SM Department Store and returning to the freelancing field with a bang with a movie project, editorial and studio projects in store as well as a teaching position at John Robert Powers. I'd like to think that help comes to those who like to help themselves and that's exactly what I'm thankful for--that I'm never without the will to work hard for as long as Mio and my family are ok.


Mio's growing up to be a fine boy, in spite and because of cancer. His father's presence in our life last year has only made him wiser and stronger and proved that our love for each other is nothing compared to any adversity or doubt we could face. His grades in school were astounding and he has gained more friends than ever--even online! Its amazing that my son has become an instrument in many ways.


2009 is great. And 2010 can only get better. Thank you everyone :) Happy happy new year!

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Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Counting Our Blessings on ANC's Shoptalk

Would like to share such a heartfelt interview in line with the holiday cheer :)


click here!








then here.





and here too please!





thank you!
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Sunday, December 27, 2009

Bubble Boy

Its the work week post-Christmas and I'm up at 6am in my work studio precisely to get started with finishing that long overdue article. I'm packing my pullouts and my own laundry in between, thank God I have Mio's yaya to make breakfast and clean the studio while everyone's still asleep.


I checked Mio's homeworks. All done. For Math and English at least. I have to figure out when I can submit these to his tutors and the ones for his former school to credit and get more of those for the coming quarter. 


I found Mio snuggled in an odd position. I whispered to him to lie down properly and found that he had reached out for his mask. He lightly budged and scratched his eye. Uh oh. He had excessive morning glory all over his beautiful lashes that seemed to me, were thinning out last night.


I took him to the bookstore last night because he wanted a book and I told him he can get one from the ampaws he got from christmas. In case you're wondering, I buy him a toy worth 5-10% of whatever money he receives directly. He puts his money in his Spongebob wallet (and its filled with crisp 20s!) the rest I tell him I put in the bank.



My bubble boy is slowly craving the lifestyle of a normal five year old. He actually asked if he can get his own PS3 when he turns 6 and if he can fly a kite on Boni High with his cousins and friends again then. That's a good four months from now but he's looking forward and planning it. He's like that. He maps out a schedule in his head. Like last night while taking his medicine he asked, "Mom will you tell me which ones are for not Sundays? Coz yaya only showed me the ones for Sundays." He was referring to his durog medicines. Mercaptopurine for weekdays, a whole to a half tablet once everyday from Monday to Saturday and four tablets of Methatrexate on Sundays. I think we lost a banig of Dexamethasone so I have yet to ask Dr. Racho if the last two doses of it, I should make up for or repeat the whole five doses altogether. Gosh.


My bubble boy is slowly suffering the small signs of his medication's side effects. Our doctor friends say he might be suffering a mild case of sore eyes since its not itchy or tingly, but its excessively watery nonetheless even when he's not asleep. His mouth sores are gone and what with his fascination with gum lately, I've been constantly reminding him to brush and gargle his teeth. I've been coughing myself and self-medicated to take anti-biotics so as much as I refuse to not hold my son's hand, he has to frequently ask for alcohol to be rubbed on his hands to make sure that I don't transfer germs to him! Me. His own mother. Gah.



My bubble boy's sleeping habits are back at ungodly hours granted that Santa Claus has stopped rewarding him for sleeping early since after Christmas. I think I'm dealing with one too many things besides the enemies but I had to check again...


"Mio, do you remember the time when we were at the hospital?"
"No. It was tagal na e. But I wasn't used to it yet."


I can't imagine what his memory is but I do know he remembers. He just can't describe how it felt, I guess. I can't keep him in a bubble all the time, you know. But I really fear for intensification, I'm calling out to the high heavens everyday that the little things---like his muta, my coughing and his mood swings get out of the way.


Although, if these were the kind of problems we'd have to deal with, I'd take them all back gladly just to save him from worse conditions.


After coming from the bookstore, with his Cars book in tow, I asked my friend to carry our bags instead and handed her the book Mio was lugging as well. I felt Mio dragging the weight of his body as we walked so I picked him up to carry all the way through. There was one instance before he asked me to do that but with so much in hand by myself and the entire day spent standing doing makeup, I had to beg off and we had a petty fight. This time, I guess we were both delightfully surprised because as soon as he caught my shoulders to embrace when I picked him up, he looked at me with those smiling eyes (with that mask covering his face 24/7 I can already tell smiling eyes from funny eyes) he said, "I love you Mom."


On second thought, I don't think I'll be popping that bubble anytime soon.


P
Photos by Mike Manalo at the 2nd Under the Sea themed birthday party of his youngest cousin, Moira.


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The Average Female


Have you seen this month's issue of Mega Magazine? Mio and I are featured there in a two page article. This is the original text I thought I'd share, its the unedited one of the one printed out and its the same article I shared with my relatives in our annual Mendiola newsletter. Basically, its our way of showing how most, if not all families are quite similar yet unique for each member or unique to those in their respective families. I hope you like this read.

Clichés bear truth for as long as there are people who are living testimonies to them. 






The life cycle of an average female begins when her father sets his eyes on a dream that his girl will fly on butterfly wings with a man just as worthy as him of her love.



I was born the youngest to a brood of five in a humble home with a family history worthy of a telenovela like any other family out there. My story wouldn’t be any different from yours, except that mine is probably the same as yours, intertwined with hers, with a bit of theirs and a little of everything of the others on so many levels.




The life I dreamt of when I was a little girl was a vague picture of an ideal course of events that would eventually lead to something close to what I believed (up to this point, mind you) was the epitome of how life should have been, that of my parents’. They were raised by equally good parents, each growing up with unique sets of closely knit siblings, studied in good and value-formative schools, met like it was fate, fell in love, got married, raised a home and continue to work for their money the best and most honest way they could.
Being the youngest, my dad spoiled me like I was his princess. And time and again, regardless of the things he tried hard to buy for me just because he saw it in my eyes each and every time I wanted something so bad, he was also the first to tell me that that we cannot get everything that we want in life and that I shouldn’t be one to be led to expect and end up frustrated about things that were not meant to be. A cliché I grew accustomed with was not crying over spilled milk. And so screwing up the meeting the right person part of my ideal life cycle was one thing I did not fixate on. In all fairness, I’d like to think that my adolescence was filled with butterflies in my tummy whenever someone took notice of me and would pay attention. I guess I did it right at first, like in all things, but not all things end the way we’d like them to.



I’ve fallen in love—time and again if I may add. That part I did so well and might never surpass. I skipped a phase—the getting married part. Or so I believe at this point because I had no choice but to raise a home, work like a horse and make a living for a little boy who was nowhere close in the life I’ve painted in my head when I was a little girl.



I had four years to grow up and be the kind of woman that is every bit like you: the daddy’s girl, the naive high school drama queen, the oh-so-devoted mother and ultimately, lately, Mio’s Mom.


Taking care of Mio is a piece of cake. I raised him to be wiser beyond his years, wiser than myself even. It feels like I’ve custom-grown a boyfriend. Admittedly, I had to do my growing up simultaneous to his, it almost feels like this was the life cycle I was meant to take in the first place.



My five-year old son, Mio wasn’t born to a young couple so in love that they’d manage to live through an average life cycle. He was born to me, a young single mom who had to simultaneously fall in and out of love, find odd jobs and fulfil a thirst for things beautiful and meaningful while raising him. I was unintentionally taught by the most important man in my life that the disappointments in life do not equate to heartaches. They come in waves because they’re the most that the grace of a child can carry on their butterfly wings. I may not be a child anymore but I have one. I have one, who in his tender years has proven to be capable of a kind of love above and beyond what my Daddy could have ever wished for.



They say cancer happens to the best of us (or I think I did was the one who said that) and that it happens to those who can afford it. That one I initially thought I’d disagree with because we weren’t well off at all. Yet cancer still happened to Mio. The word “leukaemia” is overwhelming as it is. Acute Lymphocytic Leukaemia sounded worse. Being a Mom, I’d like to think that I have developed an inclination, a kind of instinct that most moms have. I kind of knew given that his initial work up recommendations from the pedia and rheumatologist were all directed to ruling out blood disorder after realizing his recurring joint pains could be more than just that. So much for instinct, I felt so guilty in taking long to realize my son was sicker than I thought he was. It still hit me hard when the news came to me. Although Mio’s kind of cancer isn’t as big compared to other forms of cancer, the fact that MY child was suffering such a terrible illness was too much to bear.



I thought I had my fair share of trials in life at such an early age. Then again, it wasn’t about me anymore. I wasn’t the same little girl getting frustrated over MY spilled milk. My son, who still drinks milk, is dealing with enemies in his own body, that’s how I told him. My five-year old boy who’s concern only had to be play time, friends and obeying Mommy had his own monsters and would have to replace schooling with hospital visits; Mio had to go through physical pain every other day; he had to get used to wearing a mask like his life depended on it—my not-so-average little boy will in fact live a not-so-average life after all.



It’s been two months and he’s on top of his game. Cancer doesn’t seem to be so big after all, what with all those who are helping us. What with such a loving family. What with all the non-traditional life cycles surrounding his predicament, I believe this average female was equipped to fight childhood cancer and win it. I believe that my life was mapped out to become so, in order that there will be endless possibilities in making ends meet and provide for the most worthy man of them all, just as the trials and cycle skipping seemed pointless, it all boils down to this.



Looking at my son now, he doesn’t look sick at all, a far cry from two months back. It’s still a mystery to me how cancer could affect us. All the more how our battle against cancer can affect others. It’s surreal but I’m not complaining. My son seems to be coping well, there’s absolutely no reason for others, me most especially to fret further. His gentle ways are supplemented by strong life lessons that I never thought we’d learn along the way. Mio’s strength is bigger than my fear; his fight is winning by a landslide and is beyond anything we have ever dreamed of.



Ultimately, cancer has become a blessing in disguise. There may be things I had to let go off along the way, like an upbeat social life, some trivial issues, some aspirations and a thriving career in a prominent company. Void of resentment, the only thing that I had to prioritize is to ensure my child’s healing and I needed money for that. But money is just that. Money. I had no room to whine over that because I wasn’t raised to put such value for it (at a fault) but every time I felt it was difficult to carry this burden on my shoulder, more blessings came rushing in. More people kept helping and our hearts have opened up to all forms of love from all walks of life.



My story is not without my child’s fight against cancer. My story is indeed concert-worthy (thanks to friends who organized one just weeks ago). My story is ours. It is a woman’s plight void of a man’s presence, only that of a child; it is a story of family, hope and generosity. It is a story of leading lives to the fullest no matter how young or old. It is a story that tells of a child’s strength, whether from the eyes of a loving father, a dreamy-eyed little girl or a five-year old boy fighting cancer. That’s one too many stories so I guess our telenovela will go in parts of a series. The goodness of man may well be the theme of this non-traditional life cycle.





  
  
 reunions with our respective clans over the holidays--the Mendiolas and the Cocals. And our mini Cocal-Mendiola brood.

 The point is not the story, actually. It’s the reason and the manner by which we have coped so far. I guess life is not without disappointments. But the disappointments in my life have turned me into the most beautiful butterfly I could ever be. One with broken wings and varied colors. I can only be too grateful that my son accidentally walked in my life. It may have been thought to be a disappointment to my Daddy and Mommy but I’m pretty sure that having had the chance to be blessed with such a beautiful boy, the love and blessings that came with him and his illness, are all opportunities for us to remain humble, loving and more than we could ever have hoped for—nothing remotely average.



Words and Makeup by Jasmine Mendiola 
Photos by Christine Clemente
Hair by Azta Urban Salon
Mio's clothes from La Playa
Posted by jazzy at 9:10 AM | 0 comments   Links to this post
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