It normally takes me an hour to get ready when I have to go somewhere — be it running errands, going to school affairs, meeting friends for coffee, or simply going to the mall for some Me time.
I have an intensive beauty regimen. If I don’t get to put on moisturizer and lotion, apply make up (i.e, eyeliner, lipstick, concealer), powder my nose, and spray on perfume, I would feel totally incomplete. I go through that every single day… even when I have to stay home.
It takes me an hour or so to finish in front of the mirror. I always make sure I put my best face forward.
Yesterday was an exception, though… It was one of those off days.
I was supposed to accompany my dad to his doctor’s appointment. I also had to get some documents needed for my son’s college applications from several banks. I had quite a lot of things on my mind and was quite distracted.
Not knowing what time exactly my dad needed me, I decided to do my bank transactions first, hoping that it wouldn’t take forever for me to finish. I was in such a hurry that I was only able to take a quick peek at the mirror, put eyeliner, reapply lipstick and dab a bit of powder on my face. I rode the car with disheveled hair and all. I prayed nobody I knew would see me.
As expected, it took me a while to finish my transaction at the first bank that I went to. By that time, my dad has already texted three times — to ask where I was, to tell me the schedule and to ask again where I was. I was starting to feel stressed, I felt my straight hair starting to curl.
I told myself it shouldn’t be as bad in the second bank since I was simply going to pick up some documents.
The bank officer in the second bank was very accommodating. He looked for and handed me right away the documents I needed. Just as I was about to leave, though, he asked for an ID that they can photocopy and attach to the transmittal memo that went with the documents. I obliged.
As he was returning the ID, he read my birth year aloud. “19–.” He looked at me, then he looked at the ID again and muttered, “You don’t look your age.“
I smiled shyly and muttered, “I look older?” He replied, “Younger. Definitely younger. Wow.”
I got my ID back, smiled a big smile, said thank you, and walked away. Felt like a Supermodel walking out of the bank.
The compliment made my afternoon… or at least a portion of it.
Yes, I’m shallow like that. 🙂
Going on a trip to my dad’s doctors is not something that I look forward to.
In the last five years, my dad has had two surgeries, colon and then lung lobectomy, a series of chemotherapy sessions, and a knee fracture caused by an accident. It was not an easy journey. Not for him and not for the family. We have spent days going back and forth to the hospital. He has had a battery of tests.
But he is a fighter. He looked cancer in the eye and pretty much told the disease to take a hike. He has been cleared for almost three years now, though we still make regular visits to his doctors (all 5 or so of them) for monitoring.
He recently had his scheduled physical check up — CT scan, ultrasound, cardio test, and the works. All tests he passed with flying colors. I even kidded him the other day about his blood test results being more normal than mine.
He is by all indication healthy and his vitals normal.
And then he started complaining about pain in the lower abs that radiates to the hips up to his back after sitting for a long time. No real reason for worry, we say. I keep telling him it’s just muscle pains and maybe nerves… maybe even rheumatism.
As expected, his doctor said the same thing about his pain in the lower abs — it’s just muscle pains. But to address the back pains, the doctor ordered an MRI of the lumbar area. The pain, he said, can also be just muscle pains, or it could be a form of osteoporosis. Though because of my dad’s cancer history, they had to do an MRI. My mom and I exchanged looks. Here we go again…
From the moment we went out of the doctor’s clinic and all throughout the ride home, I have been praying silently that everything’s just muscle pains.
When I don’t know the answer to my questions… When fear is beginning to creep in and I am starting to feel the anxiety building up… When I know that I cannot show how scared I am because I have to be strong for other people… Truly, prayer is my only refuge.
After the doctor’s consult, we decided to go to a cafe and have snacks. We asked my sister to join so we can fill her in.
So over three kinds of pasta (hospital news made us hungry), we talked about what lies ahead. It was just the four of us — My dad, mom, my sister and I. The original bunch. We provide each other with strength.
We assured each other that there’s nothing to worry about. That the pain may be just because of the usual wear and tear of the body. My sister even suggested that my dad does yoga. I told him to go to an orthopedic doctor and ask for therapy.
And so we wait for Monday’s MRI session and Thursday’s doctor’s verdict. As we wait, we pray. We pray for courage and strength. We pray for inner peace.
Funny how earlier in the day my main concern was just about looking good. Yes, I can be shallow like that 🙂
Photos are mine. Hover over the photos to see the caption. ❤