Christmas at DMC

My daughter Janice and I were privileged to enjoy a unique Christmas Party at the Davao Medical Center on December 19. The party was organized by Kythe Foundation workers, Xai and Shiena, with some assistance from some organizations and individuals.

Of course, everyone expects a Christmas party to consist of gifts, lots of food and of course lots of fun. There was an abundance of all these, and more.

Initially, the party was planned for pediatric patients (and their parents). But the sufficient donations enabled the organizers to expand the participation to patients in other wards (in fact to three floors).

The party started by giving gifts to pediatric patients in the third floor, then feeding them and their parents with lugaw, ice cream, cotton candy and juice. Janice and I were privileged to serve juice to a long queue of kids and their parents.

With sufficient supply of food and juice, the party overflowed to other charity wards in the second and then the first floor. A sizable number of patients, their "bantay" and hospital workers partook of the party food amidst laughters, smiles and bantering so characteristic of the season's meaning of love and giving.

(I will post pictures as soon as I have the files with me)

Survivors Day at DMC

For the past few years, a day was set aside to celebrate life with pediatric cancer patients at the Davao Medical Center. The day, called Survivors' Day, was done on December 8, 2008. Pediatric cancer survivors gathered for a party, games, food and capped by a mini-concert in the evening. There was a pictorial exhibit intended to heighten awareness on cancer and obtain support to the cancer-related programs of the hospital.

We were privileged to be part of the celebration in our own simple way. It was a joy to see how survivors bonded with each other and how parents, medical workers, groups and individuals join hands to do whatever they can to alleviate the plight of cancer patients.

Obviously, the hospital administration threw its very strong support to the team of pediatric cancer doctors (Drs. Mae Dolendo, Jeannie Ong and Grace Pecson) and other medical workers. Kythe, a private foundation, has a couple of ladies assigned to provide organized care-work. A number of civic organizations and individuals had always been ready to lend never fail to lend support.

John Remembers Yam

A few days after Yam's 13th birthday, her elder brother John remembers her with a blog. John was the stem cell donor to Yam's bone marrow transplant in September 2006. He first made his blood donation to her maternal grandmother in 1998 when he was barely 15. He had been donating blood whenever he can.

John's blog about Yam can be accessed HERE.

Or, you can type this link: http://rjvb.blog.friendster.com/2008/10/thirteen/

Beautiful Memories Can't Fill the Void

Today would have been Yam's 13th birthday. Instead, this day starts the 7th month after she passed away. Yesterday was her 6th month anniversary.

As I woke up this morning, streams of beautiful memories cascaded through my mind and pinched my heart. This day would have started with noisy birthday greetings to our dear "bunso". Since today is a Saturday, we should be endlessly debating on what to do for the rest of the day - where to have a great meal, whether to go to the mall or to the beach or a mountain resort - on top of Yam's usual simple party with her friends.

Last night, Uncle Cito and Aunt Demi emailed from San Diego, California the pictures on this post. It is the jersey of their daughter (my cousin) Liza who joined a full 26-mile marathon to raise funds for a cause. Printing Yam's name on her jersey is a soothing gesture and a loving remembrance to a lost loved one. Printing her name in green - Yam's favorite color - is a bonus.

Memories now flash in torrents, so pleasant, so lovely, so joyful, so beautifully moving - her distinctive laughter, her matchless smirk, inimitable wit and irreplaceable humor, to name a few. They all bounce back and reverberate, so fresh and evergreen. Yet these memories, however pleasant, just couldn't fill the void left by such a loving child.

The void is so stark, one could easily be gobbled up in its emptiness. But in this seeming desolation are flickers of bright light shone by the caring hearts of countless friends and relatives. And in a very special way, friends we gained because of Yam.

We no longer could cuddle our lovely daughter, hear her peals of laughter, laugh at her witty humor, smile at her occasional naughty acts and bask at her small achievements. But we live on, at ease with her memories and the recollection at how much she was loved by lots of caring hearts. Thanks Yam for the beautiful memories, thanks to all our friends and relatives for your love and care.

The void? It makes us whole.

Overcoming Grief

(I started to write this piece many months back. For some reasons, I just couldn't complete it. Sometimes it takes time to understand your own feelings. I still couldn't say that I fully understand this phenomenon of grief. After all, our learning is a continuing process and is influenced by multiple events)

Experts say that when you lose a loved one, you grieve through stages. These are:

1. Shock and numbness, wherein events seem to lose their importance after the death of a loved one. This stage is nature's way of enabling you to do things necessary to carry on.

2. Emotional turmoil, where extremes of emotion are commonly felt throughout the bereavement. The emotional support, sympathetic ears and reassuring words of friends and loved ones may be most needed.

3. Emptiness, where you face the loneliness that follows death. The care of other people are a major help in your need and where ties with family and friends are important.

4. Acceptance. In due time, renewed zest for life will follow bereavement and grief. Life will regain its spark, and you will be on an even keel again.

When Yam peacefully died in her sleep months ago, the family was unusually calm. Clasped into each other's hands, we surrounded her as the medical staff documented the event. Being around an ill person who has become unresponsive to medication prepares you for the inevitable. And watching her deteriorate daily led us to expect this natural conclusion.

But, unusually calm? Perhaps it was more apt to say we were numbed. Knowing that this event is going to happen provided us the cushion to avert the shock. The usual events that follow death like the wake and the funeral were emotionally profound. I believe they are necessary for the whole family to experience as they signify the completion of the cycle of birth to death. The funeral is a public act of finality to a loved one's physical presence.

To signify closure to this event, each member of our family not only threw into the grave a select flower or two, but spaded soil into the grave to bury and lay to rest the loved one who died.

I believe we need not overcome grief in the sense that we conquer it. The void in one's life caused by the departure of a loved can never be filled by anyone. This is why overcoming grief, to me, is best achieved by living with it, finding its meaning and not allowing it to rule or ruin your life. Grief due to the loss of a loved one is part of life. Recognizing it at such makes you whole.

Strength and Courage

(During the two years that we cared for our daughter until after she passed away, we heard of friends who tell us how strong we were. Of course we were encouraged by this compliment and it kept us going. But many times I thought about what "strength" really meant. An unknown author compared "strength" witth another character trait, courage, and one can better understand. This is insightful)

It takes strength to be firm.
It takes courage to be gentle.

It takes strength to stand guard.
It takes courage to let down your guard.

It takes strength to conquer
It takes courage to surrender.

It takes strength to be certain.
It takes courage to have doubt.

It takes strength to fit in.
It takes courage to stand out.

It takes strength to feel a friend's pain.
It takes courage to feel your own pain.

It takes strength to hide feelings.
It takes courage to show them.

It takes strength to endure abuse.
It takes courage to stop it.

It takes strength to stand alone.
It takes courage to lean on another.

It takes strength to love.

It takes courage to be loved.

It takes strength to survive.
It takes courage to live.

-- Author Unknown

Birthday - A Celebration of Life

Today is my birthday ('ty - first). I don't usually celebrate it. But I think some people are happy that on this day 'ty-one years ago, I was born. Celebrating this day is thus a celebration of life - mine. And I thought it best to celebrate it with others whose lives hang on the balance.

In memory of Yam who was with me on few occasions in the past doing similar thing, I chose to be with pediatric cancer patients at the Davao Medical Center. There were 12 of them at this time. The visit and the day's rewards were enormous. Aside from seeing most of the kids' smiles, I realized how fortunate I was, I am and I can still be.

My wife Emma rushed from her work and was with me. She took these pictures. Shiena Payno, a child life coordinator of Kythe, Incorporated, who works with the kids, was so kind to accommodate us into what they're doing.

This day, what I could have spent for myself with friends at a birthday party for myself, went to the kids. Not much, but enough to make some kids contort their faces into a genuine smile. Not much, but enough to make them and their parents feel loved and cared for - even by a couple of strangers, who are strangers no more.

As Einstein once said, a life lived for others is indeed worth living.

(Thanks to those who greeted me on this day. And to those who'll read this. Ha ha ha, wala tayo ngayon - para sa mga bata muna)

HONORING A FATHER ON FATHER’S DAY

While thanking my friends through an email, I remembered one of my friends’ Dad. I read his Dad’s name printed at the top row, fourth column on a large brass plate at the Philippine National Red Cross building in Port Area. Those in the list were there because they donated at least 50 bags of their precious, life-saving blood.

So I sent an email to my friend. He responded saying his Dad donated blood more than 150 times. Oh, that's one for the books - one that requires a fervent sense of purpose and commitment. Since blood donation is as frequent as every quarter, his Dad could have donated blood consistently for about 40 years.

I postulated that the sense of mission of my friend’s Dad is rooted in a profound personal experience. I later learned that his (Dad’s) mother died due to loss of blood when she gave birth to him (Dad). My friend also related the story of his Dad’s College of Law classmate who could have survived an accident if he had blood transfusion.

My friend’s Dad is a great person. I wondered how much greater he could have been if he grew up with a doting mother around. Back in high school, our whole class (and more) frequented their home. We noisily frolicked in their swimming pool, boisterously played in their basketball court, often times raiding their refrigerator. Such a warm, caring and loving home. And though I haven’t personally met my friend’s Dad, I knew we each have a place in his big, big heart - including our individual mischief.

Why am I honoring my friend’s Dad and not mine? I am honoring him as a symbol of the many great Dads out there, including mine. I’m honoring him as a representative of those who regularly donate blood and, in effect give the gift of love and life. Few do so as a matter of duty, but many do so with a sense of purpose and as an act of love. In the same manner, some Dads are Dads as a matter of duty, but most are Dads because of a sense of purpose and love.

When my daughter was sick of leukemia, she needed multiple blood transfusions. We had to scour for blood donors when the blood bank is short of stock. In cases of platelet transfusion, we needed a live donor. Looking for a donor, especially when you have exhausted your friends and relatives, can be tiresome and tedious. Beyond using your charm, the donor should have a desire and commitment to save life.

In the two years that my daughter needed blood, we experienced a very efficient system at the Red Cross national office. We called the Red Cross office up, placed a request, asked confirmation when the blood is available, then took it at the appointed time. More important than the dedicated employees, the system worked most of the time because of committed donors like my friend’s Dad.

We count ourselves very fortunate for having good, loving and caring friends. And we count it a blessing that our friends have great Dads - who made our friends as great or greater.

Happy Fathers Day to all great fathers out there.

Yam, Chirlen, Ashlee Video

Chirlen, Yam's tutor and constant companion since late last year, took pictures Yam and herself. She then put them together into video form. She wanted to give the video output to Yam but was quite late. Chirlen just posted it on her site.

You can access it by clicking HERE.

Poem of A Breast Cancer Warrior

(The author is a long-time friend of mine from way back in College. She is a breast cancer warrior for the last 12 years or so. She remains an inspiration to many for braving her battle)

I ache, I cry

For soon I know I may fly

I seek, I pray

Pls. Lord, make my day

Let me sing, let me dance

I am not deprived of the chance

Let me feel, let me see

And don’t let me just be

I will breathe, I will smile

Though maybe for just a while

And I will love and I will live

Till with wings I believe

I shall strive, I shall touch

A breastless friend, oh so much

I will go on, move on I will

Till His Hand holds the keel

Oh I’ll still sing and dance as I had

Even in the silent memory of God

Lynne Carreon Sabay

Breast Cancer Warrior
Lipa City, Batangas

Empathy and Compassion

Last Saturday my daughter Janice sent a text message to me saying she's arriving late. She's going with friends to a funeral. Her classmate's Dad just died.

May 28 was the burial. My daughter asked permission to attend. I volunteered to drive for her and a couple of her friends.

I do not personally know the bereaved family. But my daughter was insistent she must go. She felt her presence can comfort her classmate somehow. I knew it would, so I was sure my time will be well-spent.

We attended the mass at the Assumption. After that, the throng of mourners trooped to the burial grounds at Orchard. Upon arrival, the mourners were seated and after settling, some songs were sang. A brief silence ensured after the songs, then the widow went up front and thanked those who were present. She was deeply emotional. We understood. And we wept with her.

When it was time for all the family members to take a last look at ther departed for the last time, it was an extremely emotional sight. One of the three children couldn't contain himself. He was trembling and almost collapsed. Fortunately, he was propped up by relatives.

I was moved. I can feel what they felt. I can put myself into their shoes. I knew what they were going through. And I was thankful I was there to add to the salve that eased their pain. Even if I was silently there. Even if they didn't know me.

But I knew some of those in the crowd. So I slipped an envelope to one of the widow's colleague and requested that she gives it to the widow. Surprisingly, the widow knew me. She saw me a few times when my daughter was still going to school. And she knew what we just went through. She understood, she was thankful, and she instanly and easily related. I felt sorry for them, I felt relieved and I felt happy that I was there. I felt I was able to walk with her in her shoes.

I was thankful that I went to the burial with my daughter. I was glad I had the opportunity to extend a bit of help. I knew it somehow eased a burden. In attempting to ease the pain in others, I felt better with my own pain.

Empathy - that's putting yourself in others' shoes. Compassion - that's walking with others in their shoes.

It's quite awkward. But it works - for both the walker and the owner of the shoes.

Continuity

Anyone who undergoes crisis in life gets stalled somehow. Some important things need to be set aside. Schedules are reset to give focus on urgent matters. Finances are reworked. Often finances dry up in so short a time especially in cases of a major accident, illness or death.

After going through our daughter's two years of illness that ended in her death, we've been to the depths so to speak.

In spite of the fiery trial, we say we are more than fortunate. Relatives, friends and many others rallied behind us. They provided continuity to our lives. Though we had to take occasional and extended leave from work, our career somehow did not suffer. My wife's even took some positive turns as her role in her organization became more pronounced. And while I took a turn to a less stressful and more independent assignment, it is no less personally rewarding.

After four months of our daughter's illness in 2006, our life-savings were wiped out. We stared at raising a 7-figure budget for her continued medical expense. We say God provided our needs, moving the hearts of people who in turn extended their helping hands to us. I always wax emotional whenever I remember how much love and care we received from countless people, often times I feel we did not deserve. While my family sold some properties, we have not been tried to the point of blood.

People who reach out to others could be God's way of providing fluid continuity in peoples' lives. He did so greatly to us. Many times during those two years, we could have stalled. But somehow, we kept moving on because family and friends were simply there by our side. Old friendships were renewed, lost ones were regained, new ones emerged. Indeed you know who your real friends are when you're down and we realized we have many, Big, big thanks to you guys. I guess no one could be more proud at how much and how far family and friendship provide a solid support system.

We thus count it a joy to have undergone a fiery trial though we admit we sometimes felt abysmally down during those times. But God always provided a way out, often in ways we never imagined and in ways that displayed His glory. God indeed provides continuity through people.

Now, it is our turn to provide continuity to others' lives. And while we did so in minor ways during those two years, we can do it in a more active way now. We just started by placing a modest donation in the name of some friends to the Child Life Program of Kythe at the Davao Medical Center for pediatric cancer patients. We also committed to assist a leukemia survivor to college and enable her to appreciate and fulfill her life dreams.

Honestly, I feel a little discomfort writing about what we do (because I may not even be able to make a dent). But continuity to our own life and to others' lives is our individual and collective responsibility. We owe ours to many others, we owe it to others who need us. We just need to open our eyes, reach out, or be sensitive to others' needs.

Continuity - this is life. It is what life is all about.

Yam's 40th

Yesterday, May 27, was Yam's 40th day. It was so quiet at home. Our silence was gladly diverted to Yam's pictures. On her framed picture, she exudes tranquillity and joy. Her eyes glitter, her smile captivates, her countenance radiates life. She hugs on to Ashlee, her brown cuddly bear given by her Tita Helen in June 2006.

After breakfast, the three of us at home went onto our chores for the day. Quietly and purposefully.

At about 4 in the afternoon, it was breezy at the Forest Lake, Davao City where Yam was laid to rest. Where I stand gave me the best vantage look at the gently flowing Davao River and the luscious vegetation nearby. The undulating terrain exemplifies the waves of life and the serene environment suits my mood. The soil on Yam's plot was freshly cleaned up. The grass has taken root, thanks to the frequent afternoon rains.

I began to mutter words and phrases I used to tell Yam when she was still around. A long silence, then prayers were said, but not very long. Tears flowed, but weren't buckets-ful. Memories flashed, but weren't in torrents.

We have accepted. We are moving on. But the grief lingers. We terribly miss a characteristic laughter, a gentle voice, a trusting heart. But deep within us, we silently nod in trust and gratitude at God’s unfathomable and infinite wisdom.
----

(Our special thanks to Manny Mascunana who offered a mass for Yam at the Carmelite in Cebu, and to our friends and relatives who offered their prayers for Yam where they were on this day. God bless us all.)
(Yam's elder brother Joseph posted in his site his thoughts on Yam's 40th day.)

CHIBISUKE (written by Yam in May 2007)

(This was posted by Yam on her Multiply site sometime late May 2007 just before her elder sister enrolled at UPDiliman. She was into those anime thing which perhaps made her familiar with words like chibisuke. She was back to school June to August but reverted to home study in September. We wish she could have written more. But she was either busy with home study or was on treatment. She was so fond of bantering with her sister who, in turn, was so Ate to her)

hindi niyo siguro alam yang word na 'chibisuke'...well, merong storya yan...nakakatuwang story...

kanina kausap ko ung 'genius' ko na ate(sa phone, syempre)nasa manila siya eh...tapos nag-usap sila ni mommy...tapos kinausap niya ako...

nag-usap kami ng mga sooooooooo out of dis world na mga bagay...tapos dumating kami dun sa topic na LAST MONTH pa namin pinag-aawayan. yung pag-spell ng word na chibisuke.eh kasi ang pag pronounce nyan na word is chi-bi-ske.syempre kung i-spell mo yan ay chibiske pero noooooooo! hindi ko alam bakit ganyan yung spelling nya.tanungin nyo ung mga hapon.hehe...anyway,since 'genius' nga siya tinanong ko ulit siya kung paano i-spell ung word...

C-H-I-B-I-S-K-E-E
yun yung sabi niya na spelling...syempre mali diba? chibiski na ang pagbasa nun

C-H-I-B-I-S-C-K-E
mali parin.syempre tawa ako ng tawa kasi ang tagal tagal na namin yan pinagaawayan...tapos try siya ng ibang letters na kasunod ng S...yun nga nung sabi niya na C-H-I-B-I-S-U-K-E (himala!!!) eh tama yun eh...syempre sabi ko tama...sabi nya nalaman daw niya yun kase naalala niya yung sakura...eh pag sasabihin ko yun na name sakra ung pag-pronounce ko...

MERON PANG ISA!!!!! hehehe...

tapos na yung chibisuke thingy...pero humirit pa yung ate koh!! (grabe talaga yun eh...) nagtanong ako sa kanya kung meron siyang tv sa kanyang kwarto...(dorm eh) sabi niya wala...pero sabi niya meron sa lobby...syempre naman! kung walang tv eh di mababa yung fun nila diba? sabi din niya malaki daw...so, nagtanong ako... plasma? alam niyo ba anong sabi ng 'genius' ko na ate? huh? huh?
??????

ito lang ang sabi niya--

ano yang plasma? syempre tawa ako ng tawa!!! isang up diliman na student? ndi alam ano ang plasma? so in-explain ko sa kanya...blah, blah, blah...tapos sabi niya, oo lagi, hindi na ako genius!...(bumigay din!!!) so syempre ni lait-lait ko muna siya...tapos sabi ko isusulat ko ito sa multee...mwahahahaha!!! yun...doon nag-start kung bakit ko isinulat itong beri so ambot na story...so, sa ate kong .HINDI na genius-hhahbhleeeehhwwwww!!!

Yam's Article Published in Big C Magazine

I received a package through the mail last Friday. Upon receipt, I knew from my heart what was inside and that I had been expecting this. Within my expectation is something that could have changed due to a recent event.

Opening the package and going through its contents brought me a pleasant surprise and a deep feeling of elation - one that made my day and many days to come. It was a copy of the April-June 2008 issue of the Big C Magazine, a three-time CMMA award-winning magazine about cancer, and in it is Yam's article on her journey with leukemia. She submitted the article mid-February, shortly before we brought her to Asian Hospital for check-up. On the cover is Toti Fuentes, a well known singer, composer and musical director.

Both Toti and Yam have things in common. They are both in the magazine because they had cancer. And they both passed away before the magazine came out, leaving behind them volumes of fond memories to loved ones and to many others

To access Yam's article, click HERE.

Grief and Relief

When a loved one dies does grief automatically overcome the bereaved family?

I guess not really. When Yam expired in the evening of April 17, we sort of expected the event coming. We just didn’t know when and how. Our second son, Joseph, saw it all – how Yam peacefully made her last two gasps, then expired. Mom and Janice were also in the room, John and I were rushing in.

When the hospital staff finally documented the fact and declared Yam lifeless, I calmly requested for family private time. The hospital staff obliged and we locked the room. We silently wept, clutched on to each other. Each of us knelt or stood beside the bed and held the lifeless body of our dear “bunso“. Breaking the silence after a long interval, we took turns in hugging her while she was warm. We thought it was important to accept that a loved one has just departed. And we were all there by her side.

We then took a brief time to send a message to our relatives and closest friends. And then back to Yam’s bedside. Shortly thereafter, our closest Davao-based friends informed us that they were coming. We alerted the hospital staff to allow us more time with Yam as it was normal to take the body to the morgue in an hour. They acceded to our request.

When our friends arrived, we hugged, sang songs and wept while sitting around our dear departed. We talked and focused on immediate concerns. We sorted out what family members needed to do, while they volunteered to do other necessary tasks. After about an hour, we called in the hospital staff to do what were necessary. It was time to rest in order to face another day.

We saw to it that each family member was involved, but not taxed. We figured that we needed to work by pairs, except for Dad who needed to get arrangements fast and smooth. By the time Yam’s body was ready for viewing, a handful of colleagues were there to extend condolences.

The wake brought us pleasant surprises and realizations. Yam's classmates and friends came as did Dad's and Mom's as well as her siblings' friends and colleagues. Close relatives arrived from Luzon. Calls, text messages and emails were received from all corners of the world.

But we didn't expect there were many more to come. Yam's teachers and school administrators were there. Wreaths and flowers arrived from some important people. Parents of Yam's classmates came. And there were some whom we absolutely have no connection with, who just mentioned they heard about Yam and were touched by her life story. And then there were the text messages and emails from many others, some who have not met Yam but read about her story.

The burial rites were simple. It was held at the cemetery chapel. We saw to it that we were on schedule. Pastor Mark Pineda of the Pujada Community conducted the rites. Dr. Caridad Fiar-od gave the first eulogy on behalf of Yam's relatives, friends and supporters all over. Teacher Rose Zosa talked of Yam as her student. Kaling Reyes, Yam's classmate, read Karla's (Yam's best friend) email. Dad then outlined some lessons learned from Yam's life and times then thanked everyone for everything. When it was time to lower the casket, light-green balloons were released to the air. The mourners bade their last goodbye, dropping their choice flowers down the casket. Then the bereaved family members gave the event its closure by spading in the first batch of soil that buried the casket.

There were 21 vehicles that ferried the mourners. Four buses, 4 vans and the rest were private vehicles. (May we thank PWC, UPMindanao, DNSC, DOSCST, SPAMAST, USeP, PWC, ATI-RTC, APO, Dole-Fil, Globe, Greg and Chic Mendoza, the Magdoboys, the Pujada Community, Abe, the Trio of Irvin, Lou and Malou, and to everyone who assisted in one and many ways. We also thank many others who stood by and supported us all the way since Yam got sick (no order of priority): our relatives, PCSO, First Hand, Outreach Asia, Pisay74, Bibaknets, Semians, Pisay75, NSDB-PNC7405 Alumni, the Macasaets, Pres Emer Roman, UPMin, DOSCST and Mati community, PASUC, Annabel Vega-Ganal, Atnet's Friends, Yam's physicians and nurses, and many, many others).

In sum, grief seem not to overtake the bereaved all at once. There were things that needed to get done, there were customs and rites to follow, and there were people to share with and who shared. And when people shared and were shared with - they relieved the grief many times over. The customs, rites, symbolisms and ceremonies are time-honored and time-proven ways to relieve the grief and salve the pain of the bereaved.

I remember what a high school classmate once wrote, which I paraphrase: "Joy when shared by many, multiplies in awesome proportion. Sorrow when shared by others, divides infinitesimally." How great are the ways of the Creator.


Next Article: "O Death, Where is Thy Sting?"

When Death Stared At Us

Yam was 10 years old in 2006 when she was diagnosed of leukemia. She had 3 courses of chemotherapy, then a bone marrow transplant – all in 2006. She bounced back to wellness quite fast, was back to school and did things she was happy doing. She was back, not exactly to her old, but to a new, normal. She was happy as she always was and we were extremely happy, too, as did her friends and her many supporters. Death stared at us, but Yam saw victory from its very threshold.

A year after transplant, she had two bouts of infection that needed hospitalization. In both, she bounced back pretty well. But this March to April episode? It was just simply too long. Will she bounce back as she always did?

Yam’s pediatric-hematologist-oncologist wasn’t exactly comfortable when she examined her on February 29. She advised us to go to Manila to check on the skin rashes. But the slight eye bleeding bothered her, more so because Yam’s platelet count was normal. Déjà vu? This was how Yam appeared when she first saw her in April 2006.

After 23 days in two hospitals in Manila and so many days at a Davao hospital, we kept facing a blank wall. So when we were informed of the relapse on the night of April 12, we were devastated but weren’t exactly caught off-guard. We felt the same feeling we had two years back when we were first informed she had leukemia, back but this time we were a little bit numb. And on the educational side, the information somehow explained the fever that refused to go away and the bone marrow that didn’t produce enough normal blood cells.

The following day, I got hold of the telephone and talked lengthily in succession to Yam’s two pediatric-hematologist-oncologists. I gathered that the prospect for remission is slim (very slim). To achieve remission requires high-dose chemotherapy. And post-remission long-term survival and quality of life are uncertain. This time, the battlefield consists of highly resistant cells. And the body may be too tired to withstand episodes of more furious battles.

Getting together as a family on that Sunday, we wondered why we called in a pain management specialist a few days before. We reflected on the occasions when we asked the doctors directly about Yam’s chances. We asked why Yam told her Mom, “Mama, ayaw na” but kept on fighting just the same. We felt some relief on why we entertained letting go at some moments of helplessness at the sight of a lovely but terribly sick child. We wondered why Dad was so restless until he took counsel with a minister. And we were thankful that all of Yam’s siblings had been with her for days by now.

Coming home from work on the weekend of April 5, Yam’s Kuya John stayed for the week. On April 10, her Kuya Joseph arrived from Manila and all three siblings took turns in cheering Yam up and getting involved in various chores at home and in the hospital. Now complete as a family, we all bowed down to God by Yam’s side and solidly and in unison asked Him for one great miracle. We then PUSHed (Pray Until Something Happens) together every day.

In the evening of April 15, after intensely going though the medical chart and looking at Yam’s clinical condition, two of Yam’s doctors jointly talked to us (Mom and Dad) in a room. While in discussion, three of our closest friends in the city, were waiting downstairs to visit. The meeting with the doctors was tearful and delved on matters of fact. We were clearly briefed on possible scenarios. We were clarified on possible options and assured that choices were clearly ours. After the doctors left, it was our turn to talk with our closest friends. By then, we weren’t holding back. We talked about and prepared ourselves on things that can happen. We felt so comforted and reassured by friends so avid and loyal.

The next day, we took care of Yam and carefully observed her behavior and responses. She was restless, had moments of incoherence and sudden surge of energy. On intervals, she asked for her favorite shake, drinks and ice cream - with complete specifications. It was a joy for the family to satisfy her whims. In the afternoon, she rattled off some names. We frantically called the person by cell phone when we recognized the name. She got to listen to her Kuya John assuring her he’d be by her side come evening time.

The morning of April 17 has given us perhaps the most profound experience the family ever had. As early as 7am, Yam’s doctors visited. Mom has to call Dad at home to rush up. Dad had to pass by a potential blood donor to make sure blood is available. After all, Yam’s blood counts were bottom low.

Upon arrival at the hospital, the doctors told us what they see. They have dealt with so many cases like Yam’s and can read the signs so well. And having understood what they were saying, we asked for family private time.

Dad assured Yam we all loved her so dearly and we would not like to let her go, if we had our way. But we are ready to let her go if she believed Jesus was her Lord and Savior. She nodded as she did when her Kuya Joseph asked the same question a few days back. Dad assured her that the family will be okay, that we will take care of each other and we will be by her side.

Mom assured her that Jesus will meet her where she goes and where she goes there will be no more sickness, pain or suffering. In her innocent voice, she blurted, “Sama kayo”. Mom then explained that each of us have our own appointment with the Lord and that we will all be together in the future. To which she asked, “Kailan?”

The siblings then took turns talking to her, whispering to her and hugging her, to which Yam responded in warm and quiet affirmation. She then requested her intravenous connections removed, to which Mom explained that it was needed for infusing her optimum comfort medicines. It was about 11am, Thursday, 17 April.

By 7:45 pm, Yam had her last two gasps of air and peacefully expired in her sleep. Death kept staring at her, and this time, it was a victor. Or is it?

(coming… “O Death, Where Is Thy Sting?")
(coming... "Grief and Relief")

Romancing A Deadly Disease

(Two things: First, I had difficulty choosing the title for this piece. As a compromise and to capture my ambivalence, I place both titles. Second, my daughter Janice and I visited the House of Hope at the Davao Medical Center yesterday. We met with Xai of Kythe Foundation which is playing an enormous role in improving the lot of pediatric cancer patients in the hospital by providing psycho-emotional help as integral part of the healing process of the patients. During our talk, Xai affirmed the therapeutic effect of blogging not only for the blogger but for the readers as well.)

When our daughter Yam spent 23 days in two hospitals in Manila and was transferred to a Davao Hospital on March 25, we never doubted she will bounce back to wellness. Her March 10 engraftment analysis showed 100% donor's graft and therefore was leukemia-free. Although her CT scan showed a spleen enlargement, a developing abscess in the liver and some nodules in her lungs, she was being treated with high-end anti-biotics. While she tested positive for the dreaded cytomegalovirus, she was immediately given treatment. Her persistent menstrual bleeding was likewise minimized and controlled.

As she did in two previous bouts with infection, we knew she will bounce back. She had the best doctors we knew of and she was receiving utmost hospital care. She had strong will and spirit, we had friends and family support, we were focused in providing everything she needed, and we had prayer warriors backing us up.

When we decided to transfer to a Davao hospital, we went through elaborate preparations to eliminate possible medical risks. The doctors ascertained her medical condition, set into motion the treatment regimen and made the necessary medical abstract and endorsements. We made special travel arrangements with the airline while a long-time friend provided the hospital to airport vehicle.

At the Davao end, hospital transfer arrangements were done and so with the airport to hospital transport. Yam's Davao doctor was ready to visit, the hospital staff was alerted, the hospital room was prepared so Yam was immediately whisked to her room without going through normal procedures. Yam seemed to have just transferred to another hospital room with a three-hour travel interval. It was also a change from her Manila-based male doctors to her Davao-based female physicians who all previously handled her since 2006.

So far, so good. Medications were administered as planned and adjustments were done when needed. On March 29, the cytomegalovirus test was negative. Yam's Ate Janice also arrived from Manila and beefed up family support. Yam's tutor Chirlen had been around to assist in many ways and her Kuya John was just 3 hours away. Mom stuck by her side on a 24/7 in spite of becoming accessible to her work and workmates. Dad was hovering around, always ready to get outside-the-room needs met. Yam's menstrual flow also stopped.

But the fever just won’t go away. The blood counts just wouldn’t rise. The energy just seems to dissipate. The body began to waste away. The petechiae became visible and began to enlarge. The “drug of last resort” wasn’t getting the job done and had to be stopped. The shift to other antibiotics didn’t get the fever off at all. And the blood transfusions were needed every other day. Signs of allo-immunity became apparent as the platelet count rises after infusion but quickly plummeted down in a day or two. Yam’s bone marrow was simply immobilized. Yam was not improving, she seemed not responding to medications.

On April 12, her laboratory tests showed she relapsed. Leukemia was back to her frail body.

(Continue to ... “When Death Stared At Us”)

Thanks To You All!!!

Yam Bayogan, who was diagnosed of acute myelogenous leukemia in May 2006,
peacefully expired at 7:45 pm on April 17, 2008 at the Davao Medical School Hospital.
She was laid to rest on April 22, 2008 at the Forest Lake Cemetery, Davao City.

We THANK the Great God, who knows what is best for each of us.
We also THANK our relatives, friends, colleagues, institutions as well as Yam's school,
schoolmates and friends, and many others who showed us
what authentic loving and caring is.

We will miss Yam's lively disposition, infectious smile and inspiring courage.
But these will live on to carry us into living our own lives more meaningfully.

Note: Those who like to view Yam's pictures may click HERE.

Like A Star

by Karla Johnson Almazan

(Karla is Yam’s best friend. She visited Yam twice before Yam went to Manila for treatment. She calls Yam by phone and sends text messages regularly. She again visited Yam in the hospital before her trip to the US where she sent this article to be read during Yam’s funeral services)

Hello po sa lahat! I know that this day is sad for you, and I want all of you to know that it’s sad for me too. We lost a really special person, but it’s also good because she was really going through a hard time, and now she got her rest.

Eunice or Yama is a great girl, she was a good daughter, a good sister, a good niece, a good cousin, a good granddaughter, and a good friend.

Hi, I’m her best friend Karla, we didn’t spend much time together, not like any best friends, that been together for years, we became best friends because of the telephone, yes the telephone, I love that gadget.

When the news has spread that she got leukemia on the starting of the summer of gr.4, I didn’t know about that. The time I got the news is when gr.5 started, I was kind of shocked.

When I got home, I called her, she said it was true, since then I started calling her all the time, each call we became closer, honestly, we weren’t that close when we were in gr.4, sure we spent some moments together in that grade, because we were seat mates once, one time I asked her if she knows the movie “Sound of Music” and she said yes, we started singing all the songs in “Sound of Music” together, especially the song, Edelweiss.

Through gr.5, Joy has been home schooled, I keep on asking ma’am Tan if she took the test already, but I know that she will pass, do you know that Joy is one of the best students, she’s really smart, I have to tell you the truth, in Gr. 3 I kept on being number 2 in the ranking because she’s always number 1, but I wasn’t irritated, because she really deserved that rank because, she’s a really good student.

During gr.5 and the summer after gr.5, that’s when Joy and I really got close, she said she’s getting better and maybe she can go to school in gr.6, I was really happy, because I can see her again, and continue being close friends.

When the first day of gr.6 arrived, I looked forward in meeting joy, she said that she had short curly hair by that time, when I saw her she hugged me and I hugged her back, it was like I’ve been her best friend for years.

Through gr. 6 she went on and off of school, I usually get worried if she doesn’t go to school, so I usually call her house and request an explanation.

Joy was really a great friend to me, she was the first true friend I ever had, she made me realize that you can still find a friend that will be there for you all the time.

When I have a problem at school I usually call her and she will do things to comfort me like, make me laugh, or say things that are in the bright side, that’s the way she treats me like a really good friend, that’s why I can’t help myself to return her ways of being a good friend to me.

So when she asks me to call, I call, and listen to what she wants to say to me, like her problem about some guy named Whiler, please don’t ask any questions about that.

Just to clear things up Joy was really a good friend to me and a good friend to others too, so I can’t help but cry, that my one and only best friend is gone, she was the one who made my gr. 6 year happy, when one of my classmates brought up the topic about me again, that’s really true, she made me happy through grade 6 year.

She was the one who helped me with all my obstacles through the year, and I’m really disappointed about myself because I wasn’t there for her when she was in the time of need, because I had to go here in America.

She was one of my lights when I’m in the dark.

She was always there with me, she was the one who made me stand up again when I fell, I really wanted to tell her that.

So I made this speech to have the chance to say this to her right this moment, that I really appreciate her for being with me.

I wish that God will watch over her when she’s up there, and I wish she will still watch over me and all the people she loved and cared for, and to know that she’s always there for us.

That’s why I thank her for making this quote come true “Friends are like stars, even if you can’t see them sometimes, they’re always there”

Sorry if this speech is kind of messed up, and hard to understand, I wrote it hurriedly, because it was already 2:12 am when I wrote this, but I hope you caught up at the ending, thank you for listening.

Yam Moves On... We Also Move On, Gratefully

27 April 2008. Today is the 10th day after Yam passed away, the 5th day since we laid her to rest.

Along with the grief and sorrow for her loss, we are grateful for more than one year added to her life.

When Yam was diagnosed of acute myelogenous leukemia in May 2006, she was given not much chance. Her pedia-hema-oncologist's first statement when she disclosed the diagnosis was, "I'm devastated." Pressed on for what she meant, she said this kind of leukemia occurs more in adults than children and required an aggressive treatment. Further tests showed Yam had blood cells with structurally abnormal chromosomes. Chemotherapy was meant to kill the leukemic and abnormal cells. The bone marrow transplantation was meant to boost her chance for long-term survival. We believe it did, although not long enough as we hoped it would.

Nonetheless, more than a year was more than the gift we thought of. In our most difficult times and throughout the trying period, a multitude came to our aid, prayed with us and assisted us in many ways we never ever imagined. You quickly joined us in the battle, provided a pillar of strength and stayed by our side. Old friendships were renewed, lost ones were regained and new ones blossomed. We were never alone.

After the transplant and recovery period in 2006-07, Yam hurdled her exams and completed grade 5 through home study. By June last year, she was back to school and represented her school in a city-wide essay writing contest and in a regional science quiz. To provide balance to her rather restricted life, we brought her twice to two mountain resorts, a departure from the beaches which she loved to visit before her illness. She wrote her own account for a magazine and hoped it gets published this quarter (baka hindi na, dahil sa nangyari). She occasionally visited other leukemia patients and shared part of her medical funds. She graduated in absentia from Grade 6 on March 25, topping her class in Math. She lived life fully and in the best way she could.

Late February this year, she had skin rashes. We thus brought her to Asian Hospital on March 2 for check up. A skin biopsy was done and her fever was treated. After 10 days, we moved her to Makati Med with the same attending physicians so our two Manila-based children can visit more frequently. The fever just wouldn't go. After several tests were completed and the treatment regimen established, she was cleared to transfer to a Davao hospital. Still the fever persisted until she was declared relapsed on April 12. It was a quick downhill journey by then until she expired peacefully at 7:45pm on April 17.

Yam's wake was a soothing experience for the family. Her friends and classmates came, so did her teachers, her school principal and school CEO. Relatives from Luzon arrived, family friends visited, as did our colleagues, Yam's physicians, hospital nurses and attendants. Streams of text messages were received expressing shock at the sad event and conveying sympathies. There came parents and people we didn't know, but who came anyway, saying they were touched by Yam's courageous stand. Not the least were the steadying and endearing emails posted by pillars of supporters like you.

On the warm and bright afternoon of April 22, we laid Yam to rest at Davao City's Forest Lake Cemetery after saying THANK YOU to the Great God (who knew what is best for each of us) and to many friends (who showed us what authentic loving and caring is). As the coffin was slowly lowered, light green-colored balloons were released into the sky while the infectious smile of a lively girl and the courage she displayed while fighting a deadly disease are indelibly etched in the memory bank of countless people who will live on, inspired by her innocent and meaningful life.

Life is indeed short and precious. And we can only say, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!

That's What Friends Are For

This is the title of a beautiful Dionne Warwick song. A truly beautiful one, for its music and its message.

Today is Yam's 18th day in the hospital. A special day. As special as Dionne Warwick' song. Karla Johnston Almazan (Yam's Mommy K) called long distance from Davao. For the past few days Yam's mood was nothing more than plain valley. No hills, not small undulations. But Mommy K's voice on the other end lightened up Yam's dormant mood, revved up her latent energy and charged up her sagging countenance. They talked for almost an hour, the way they always do, and in the process, transforming each other into better persons.

Warwick's song reverberates in the air:

"Keep smilin’, keep shinin’
Knowin’ you can always count on me, for sure
That’s what friends are for
For good times and bad times
I’ll be on your side forever more
That’s what friends are for"

Part 6. Survivor Me

This time, the whole family was present. I mean the WHOLE, man! (Excluding the lolos and lolas okay? Just the six of us.) They were all home because of Christmas break, which helped me a lot.

I was discharged from the hospital after ten days meaning I missed the party and I celebrated Christmas in the hospital. NO BIGGIE! At least I’m still alive, right? Since I didn’t celebrate Christmas that lively, I planned to make it up for New Year.

New Year was a blast. The usual family photo shoot and Media Noche (though we ate it after New Year) was still made. Not to mention, all the pictures were not serious. I mean, not a single shot was fit to be put in a frame! But who cares? We had a lot of fun!

The following day, my sister had to go back to Manila. Seriously, why do the need to be back at school by January 3?

Then, both my brothers went back to their work places. And so, I was again left alone. But I was happy despite that.

While writing this article, I remembered what my friend Karla always says to me. She always says that I’m unlucky yet I’m still lucky. I guess now, I absorbed what that really meant. It meant I was unlucky because I got this cancer but still lucky because I also got friends and family that would never leave me. And that’s more powerful than the disease I got in my body, which made me hang on and fight and it also made me realize that I wasn’t alone.

Part 5. Defeating Leukemia – The Post-Transplant Journey

My routine was still the same; weekly lab tests, consultations, medicine, you name it. In early January 2007, we went back to Manila to attend the BMT party that was held yearly. Other leukemia survivors also attended. It was also in that month that I was to reach my 100^th day post transplant. I forgot how we celebrated that milestone, but I was happy that time.

Over the next months, I started taking the examinations from our school. Fortunately, they allowed me to have a home study program since I have this condition. A teacher from school comes to our house every week to administer the test. During the summer, my friends from school kept on calling me, which was good because I missed them so much. Most calls were from Karla and Elaine, two of my closest friends. We were also informed that I somehow managed to pass all of my tests, meaning if I planned to go to school the next opening, I would be a sixth grader.

June came, which meant school. And it meant the same for me. I went to school; I sort of looked different especially with the hair. You see, before I got the disease, my hair was straight. Now, it’s curly, the very reason why I’m now known as ‘curly tops’ in our batch. I saw my most of my classmates back when I was in grade four.

But it was different now; I was already in grade six. My teachers already knew about my condition and asked me how I was doing. I attended school from June up to August with some absences in between because of occasional fever. At the start of September, we went to nearby Panabo City to attend a Science Quiz Bee. There were three students representing each school and I was one of the three from ours. We went back to Davao in the afternoon. Unfortunately, we didn’t enter the next round of tests for the quiz bee.

Part 4. Fighting Back With An Army

Well, I knew I had to keep fighting even though I was already semi-bald. So, after I was discharged from the hospital, we went on with the second and third session. After the second session, my doctor announced that I was already on remission. And the same thing after the third session.

Being on remission means that there are no more cancer cells in my bone marrow and that I was ready for a Bone Marrow Transplant (BMT). The transplant would increase my chances of not having a relapse. Now all we need to do was to find a compatible donor and raise funds for the operation, which at that time costed about Php 2-3 M.

According to experts, it’s difficult to find a matched donor. But with me having three siblings, there is a good chance that one of them could a match. We started off with my sister. We were subjected to HLA typing. HLA means Human Leukocyte Antigen. It has something to do with the nature of our blood and bone marrow. Unluckily, she wasn’t a match. Next was my eldest brother. This time, we were compatible.

After knowing that my brother and I were a match, my doctor immediately told my parents the names of doctors in Manila who could possibly do the transplant. Every time my father would go to Manila for meetings, he would find time to talk to them. Back here in Davao, my brother and I were busy with a series of blood tests in preparation for the BMT. While occupied with the tests, we were also busy with the funds for the transplant.

And by that time, my school, the Philippine Women’s College of Davao, already knew about my condition. They also began fund raising events to help in my operation. On the second week of September 2006, my parents, helper and I went to Manila. My sister was left here in Davao together with our other helper and two of our mom’s colleagues. My dad had a high school classmate living near Asian Hospital (the hospital where I was to be admitted) who gladly invited us to stay with them while there in Manila.

Before I was admitted at the hospital, we went to the Philippine Charity and Sweepstakes Office (PCSO) to claim our grant. They gave us a big amount of money for the transplant. Then we went to meet my two new, handsome doctors, (they’d hate me if I didn’t write handsome there) Dr. Francisco Lopez and Dr. Allan Racho. A few days after that, I was finally admitted in the hospital and in no time, I was in the operation room for the insertion of the central line. My mom was there with me. Of course, I was asleep the whole time because if I were awake, it would be so unpleasant. After the insertion, I woke up at the recovery room. Then I was brought back to room 713, my domain for the next three weeks.

Before harvesting stem cells from my brother, I went through a last round of chemotherapy. Days before the transplant itself, my brother was given shots of GCSF. That’s the acronym for Granulocyte Colony-Stimulating Factor. Its purpose is to increase the stem cell production and to enable the stem cells to come out of the marrow and into the bloodstream. What my brother is going to donate is his stem cells not the marrow itself. Stem cells are the ones that come out of the bone marrow and eventually become the blood cells.

Part 3. The Beast Strikes Hard

Few days after my first chemotherapy session, when I awoke from my sleep, my hair was all messed up. My sister, whose favorite subject is me, offered to comb my hair. I accepted her offer since I can’t comb my hair because my right hand was connected to the intravenous (IV) feeding bottle.

I sat on the bed and gave her the comb. After a while, she fell silent. “Yam,” she said showing me a handful of black hair. That black hair was mine. The sight of my hair falling around the white sheets each day saddened me. All my mom and sister could do was save my fallen hair in a plastic bag. To make a sad fact alluring, I joked to them “Pwede na yan na ipagawa na wig ni daddy!” (You can save my hair for Daddy's wig)

Part 2. Battling A Beast

Anyway, after knowing the unwelcome summer guest, we went on to step number two. Behold, chemotherapy! This treatment makes you better and sick at the same time. You might not get it, but it’s easy. It makes you better because the medicine kills the bad cells. But it also kills the good cells since it can’t identify if the cell is good or bad.

Now, the drugs also make you even more sick. The drugs kills the good cells which results to hair falling, nail beds turning into violet and your appetite to back off. And so we went to the hospital back and forth.

On my first chemotherapy, everything was a bit new to my parents, ‘watchers’ and me. Soon, my family learned how to buy medicines with weird names, how to ask for donors for my blood transfusions, get in contact with other leukemia patients and deal with my condition. They also got used to seeing me just lying on the hospital bed either sleeping or doing nothing at all. After the first dose was administered to me, I began to feel nauseated but not exactly right after, maybe after several hours. Then, I began to vomit. Even if I liked the food, my appetite always fought with me and always won. This is what happened the next days of my first chemo session.

My first session lasted for more than a week, and then I was discharged. Expecting that my next chemo was still two weeks away, it was quite a relief. But then, after a week, my temperature abruptly went up. And before I knew it, I was back in the hospital. After the usual laboratory tests, it showed that my platelets were very low. My doctor advised that we quickly secure a platelet donor. After my parents found a donor, my fever was still persistent. Dr. Ong said this was febrile neutropenia and it was expected for leukemia patients that just had chemo.

Part 1. An Unwelcome Summer Guest

(Starting with this post is the story of my 12-year old daughter Yam's story as she recalled and wrote it. Except for the sub-title and some minor checks, I am posting the artciles en toto)

Part 1. An Unwelcome Summer Guest

Imagine this. It’s the last day of school in March 2006. Two months of summer is right in front of you. Then, a fever welcomes it. And after missing the first week of the wonderful summer, BOOM!, a bomb of cancer has exploded in your body. Pretty bad, right? But with medicine, modern technology, tons of love from friends and family and all the help you could get from the whole universe (especially from up above the heavens), it would be an unforgettable chapter to write in your book of life.

A 10-year-old girl was alone at home, lying on the bed. Her family was out to attend her brother’s graduation. She couldn’t come because of a dreadful fever she had, on and off, for almost a week. I was that little girl.

A few days after that, my parents decided to bring me to the hospital, thinking that it might be something serious. I was admitted then and there, and the diagnosis - pallor and anemia. On the third day, my doctor, Dr. Jeannie B. Ong, considered pre-leukemia because of the presence of many immature cells in my bone marrow. It wasn’t long before we found out that it really was Acute Myelogenous Leukemia or AML.

Honestly, I don’t remember what I felt that time when I was told I had cancer. All I knew about cancer at that time was that it was something severe. Plainly put, a severe disease in you body. And from what I have seen in the television, people with leukemia lose their hair. Man, I wasn’t ready to lose my hair that time! NO WAY!

500 Days and An Article

6 February, 2008. Today is Yam's 500th day post-transplant. In addition to Yam's and our thanksgiving prayer for each day God has granted, today was greeted with an email from a staff of the Big C magazine. The email was a request for Yam to write an article about her battle against leukemia. A list of vital questions were posed which serve as a guide in writing the article.

In reality, this was anticipated. So, we encouraged Yam to get going. And in spite of her hesitance, she is keenly interested about it. I will post, en toto, what she writes on a day-to-day basis until she gets the whole thing done. Of course, we are sure the editorial staff will rewrite the whole thing to conform to the magazine's editorial style.

We are excited about this.