A Night at the Emergency Room.

A night at the emergency room.

Today has been really painful.  I got rushed to the emergency room due to some “usual” palpitations and a rather “unusual” stabbing pain in the chest with difficulty in breathing.  I just wanted to go home and rest it out, but the people around me insisted that I should be given proper medical attention.  In no time, the rescue team is already on me.

As we arrive the emergency room, I know for a fact there is something wrong.  I am becoming numb, and weaker. I couldn’t even tilt my head up and look around. The blood pressure is dropping fast.  As I was lying on the hospital bed, my eyes just wanted to close.  I don’t what came to me, but when I prayed, it’s not about helping me to get over with the situation.  I prayed to God “thank you, for giving me this wonderful time”.  But heck, I wasn’t dying. It was just the dropping blood pressure. My family then came to watch for me.

Just when we thought everything is getting fine, we went home though I was still feeling fuzzy and weak.  After being seated, I threw up a murky-looking vomit.  We all thought it was blood. It was black and could almost fill a bowl or two.  I was brought back to the emergency room.

A couple of questions here and there, trying to figure out what went wrong with me.  A couple more of blood tests and other exams, then it was decided I needed to be admitted.  I needed to be confined.

The doctors and nurses were about to change shift when a real dying person was brought to the hospital – an old woman.  Since I was brought to the local government hospital, what separated my hospital bed to the coding old woman was just a curtain.  A curtain they weren’t able to fully cover because they need to save her.  I can tell that her body is hard by that time and I can even hear the flatline sound from the machine quickly attached to her by the medical personnel.  She’s not dying – she IS dead.

All the relatives who brought her were crying. I even heard one uttered that it would be the woman’s birthday the next day.  From the not fully-covered curtain, I watched the team try to resuscitate her, I saw her.   After a couple of tries, one of the doctors talked to a relative and explained the condition.  The doctor asked how long before they were able to bring the granny to the hospital, and I figured why she would ask that.  ‘coz the woman is dead when she was brought to the hospital.  but the medical personnel didn’t stop resuscitating.  They see glimpse of hope.  And I still hear the relatives crying.

A few more tries, and not giving up, I suddenly heard a beep.  WHAT THE HECK?!?! Were they really able to make it?  Were they really able to resuscitate or revive her?  Then the announcement of the doctor to the relatives, she was back.  Although, the old woman is not far from danger yet, I heard the doctor said about they are now trying to stabilize her condition.  They were really able to bring her back.  They were able to bring her back to her loved-ones, to the people who love her.

A sudden realization to me.

For a couple of years now, I’ve been struggling.  I’ve been mentioning that living is no longer of big deal anymore.  And if God suddenly want to take me anyway, I’d be thankful and ready.  Then, I saw Mama waiting for the doctors.  I saw Dad passed by who brought some snacks for them if they were to stay with me at the hospital.  I felt the tight hold of my GF to my hands. What have I been thinking?  I never wanted to see them cry that way.  I never wanted to see them hurt that way.  Damn it! Those people are crying over a 70+ year old woman!  Why have I been rushing my life to end?!?!!?

A fear suddenly creeped on me.  What would I do if all these tests would lead to one thing - a terminal illness.  I wanted to die for a long time, then swiftly I felt scared of an impending death.  Maybe the thought of suffering (even more) before dying scared me.  Maybe the thought of making my loved ones suffer watching me suffer scared me.  Or maybe, the thought of not finishing the paintings I planned, the books to publish, the room (or house in future) to décor scared me. I don’t know.  One thing I was sure of, I don’t wanna find out that I have something deadlier and dirtier than depression is in me.

Life has never been easy.  Everyday is a constant struggle.  And I know the way I would feel about my life is affected by everyday decisions that I make.  And I know I’ve been deciding wrong all this time. 

I wanted to change that.  And I know lying on this hospital bed helped me to start making the right decisions.   Being here in the emergency room reminded me that my life now is in an emergency, too.  I should start helping myself.  Anxiety and Depression has always been fucking me up, and I’m letting that happen.  I should now choose life over death.  I never wanted to see my loved ones grieve over my loss.

After a couple of days, I went out of the hospital bearing the prescription of 10 capsules a day. Wow.  The old woman didn’t make it after a couple of days.  She died on her birthday.  A couple of days thereafter, a department head from work was also brought to the same emergency room, dead on arrival.

Life is short.  Let’s just not make it shorter. As we struggle, there are people who are also struggling just to see you well.  Let’s not make life harder to live with each other.  Let’s struggle to make life worth living.

I know, in the end, death will come to us.  But until that day, I’m gonna fuck this depression up which has been fucking my life out for a long time. 

I have depression, but I’m gonna choose life.