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?

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.

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 :)

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?

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.

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.