It took two stiches on Diego's upper lip the other night when we rushed him to the hospital. He stumbled in the living room and his face hit the corner of the wooden table. I thought at first his tooth went off because of the blood, but later saw that it was a deep and wide cut on his upper lip.What was frightening for me was how Diego was crying. I know he was really really hurt. It was a good thing my brother, Baron, was here and we rushed Diego to the hospital. While the doctors were attending to Diego, Ron left to pick up my sister-in-law from work, leaving me 'alone'.
It was hard trying to calm Diego, saying that everything will be alright, no it won't hurt, yes I won't leave you, while trying to pin him down (with an intern and a nurse helping me) as the doctor injected anaesthesia directly to the cut. When the doctor placed a piece of cloth with a hole in the middle over Diego's face to start the stitching (the hole was directly over the wound), Diego began shouting "Ayoko ng Batman! Ayoko ng Batman!" I don't like Batman! pertaining to that piece of surgery green cloth with the hole. It left us giggling for a while. "Gusto kong makita si Mama!" I want to see Mama!
He was a brave little boy. Much like me, he can tolerate physical pain. But I hope the pain I felt inside me, he will not feel. For the first time I was alone. Trying to be calm. No one to turn to and assure me that all will be fine. No warm arm on my shoulder, or a hand in my hand. Calling the first name in my cel's phonebook gave inner warmth, to say the least (but I later regretted why I said I was ok and he need not come).
I was late for two hours at work. I cried while putting Diego to sleep. I need to talk to someone, and hear a friendly voice.
Thanks... 'you', for calling.