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The news came as a shock to us all. He who had been ill for days had been taken to the hospital. It was found out that he had very high amount of creatinine in his blood, resulting from a stone in one of his kidneys. Creatinine is a liquid waste. It causes slow blood circulation, making even breathing difficult. While the normal amount of creatinine in our body is 1.5%, he had 23.3% of it. He had assured us it was only a frustrating duo of ulcer and bronchitis so no one thought it was a kidney problem, which I only used to hear about from other people's sob stories but never thought would happen to my own flesh and blood- my father. A tube was inserted into my father's body to start the perritonial dialysis. The nurse had warned it would be painful because the anesthesia would not reach the innermost part of his body. Still, I was shaken to hear his tortured scream as the nurse punctured his abdomen. For days my father struggled with a tremble to move a muscle or to eat without vomiting the food out. He couldn't seem to swallow anything down his throat. My father…whom I neglected while others longed for a paternal presence in their homes…oh, how I had wronged him! For the first time, my siblings and I showed how we truly felt, even humbling down to our knees to pray and beg God, in the midst of weeping and yes…running noses, to show us mercy. It was quite a scene…sure beats "Maalaala Mo Kaya". Friends became out of reach, or perhaps it was me who was withdrawing from them. In their absence, strangers and people I hadn't heard for years came pouring in to help. It took great effort to focus at work but like a puppet I moved on, not daring to disturb normalcy. Somehow I had kept myself from bawling for moping could not help my father. Our prayers and (this will sound corny as hell) love have done wonders to my father although he still has to undergo hemodialysis. Now he could even make faces at us. Funny how he tries to make us smile in the face of grief. My siblings and I have become closer than ever. And the realization that our parents had raised us well dawned in. In this hell we are going through, we've found a little heaven. Indeed I had a lot to thank God for. He had allowed us the pain that has shaken us to the core. But a pain meant to heal us spiritually and emotionally, a pain that has brought with it people we could count on. Sigh, God's mysterious ways! Only now have I heeded to the good ol' saying romantics often chided to me: Always take the chance of showing that you care, for you never know when that chance would be taken away from you. Thank God, I still have that chance. Become A Lethal Weapon In 2 Weeks! - Learn unfair self-defence-technique and fighting secrets of the most dangerous and most respected street fighters in the world. Fightshop.biz. - The business end of Fighting Fathers Ministries. Article Index: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 |
More Articles:1. Keeping Faith By Wayne Mitchell Direct Answers - Column for the week of June 30, 2003Please bear with me. I desperately need advice. I dated this girl for a year, and we broke up many times because of religion. We are of two different religions, and she wanted our potential children to be of her faith and only her faith.To me that seemed a bit unfair. I too want to share in my children's spirituality, and I too want to take them to my church and experience a bit of what I… 2. A Prison Planet By Robert Baird I decreed my ‘twin’ into my life in early 1990. It is a story I tell in other books but I think even Edward House would have a hard time topping my gifts. She was the only woman with a brown card in California when she sat on the Governor’s Blue Ribbon Panel on Prison Reform. A brown card allows you access to all Penal System buildings. She had once been put in prison because the FBI could not catch her Mafia bosses who had duped her and many o… 3. Good? Bad? Who Can Say? By Rochman Reese Many years ago in ancient china, in a small rural village an old farmer and his family had a beautiful stallion. This horse was their pride and joy.They used it to plow their fields and to pull the cart to take their vegetables to markets. At the end of each day their only son would groom the horse, and tell it how wonderful he was.One day, the gate was left open by a visitor and that night the horse ran away off into the wild hills around thei… 4. Hitler and the Tsunami By Mary Rosendale In Catholic school the nuns used to tell us that we should love everyone as we loved Jesus. We didn't have to like them but we had to love them. I used to argue this and my trump card was always Hitler. How could I love him and, by the way, why would I want to be a part of any religion which said I had to?Time happened and I fell for Zen Buddhism. So much of it made sense to me except ---there it was again. I had to love everyone - eve… |