Reeking with Sickness

I do not like hospitals. They reek an indelible stench, an imperceptible and invisible ill omen. I remember I would hold my breath when I was a kid whenever I passed by a hospital and nearby funeral parlors in downtown Meycauayan. It was like breathing in bad luck, if not choking on hard cheese.

I have accompanied my dad and aunt to a hospital in Pasig just recently. My dad was confined there more than 2 decades ago. His first stroke made him stay there. I remembered how I had waited for so long outside the building not seeing my dad; I was young that time I could not be brought inside the hospital building. It had been a blessing in disguise: I had not hold my breath for so long.  Now I am old enough and able to go inside. The visit was turning ominous.

My aunt got the blood test results. It revealed my dad’s high blood glucose: In short, he was diagnosed with Diabetes. We then went on the upper floor to get his CT-scan results. It revealed a hematoma in the brain: a probable evidence of stroke. I can feel misfortune seeping from the walls.

We were about to leave when my aunt and I noticed my dad could not carry his weight anymore. We then went to the emergency room for a quick diagnosis. The doctor immediately ordered for blood sugar detection. True enough, my dad’s blood sugar was abnormal. It was a good that he was just a tablet away from relief, but he has to take it three times a day everyday–forever.

We left and drove away. I dropped my dad and my aunt at home in Pasig, and I drove to Fitness First for a quick shower. The tangles of ill moments should be washed away. I do not want to reek sickness on my way home.