I once gave a seatwork on long-term personal goals to my
students and one of them turned the table and excitedly asked me of my future
plans, as if he would get some juicy information out of me. Surprise and
amazement at the same time enveloped his face when I answered him confidently: “I
don’t have any.”
I don’t have the luxury of making long term plans or goals anymore.
If you are the kind of person who almost died twice and who’s not quite sure
how long his or her life on earth would be, then you’ll probably understand why I don't have any long term plans.
Well, in reality, I actually do have plans but these are not
long-term. These are what I would call “shorter short-term plans.” My initial
plan is to make it through a day and make sure I wake up the next day and get
to spend it with my family and friends. The next plan is to keep myself out of the
hospital; and finally, do whatever it is that I can do now. These plans don't look as
easy as they sound, and to those who are thinking that mine is a sad situation,
you’re very much mistaken. It actually is not, instead, it is a sweet situation
where I get to treasure every minute I have.
No, I’m not yet dying! At least not very soon, but with the
condition I have, God only knows when my body will totally give way and succumb
to death. I have hemolytic anemia and I’m trying hard to keep my hemoglobin
count stable.
Hemolytic anemia is a disease wherein a person’s antibodies are destroying
red blood cells at a faster rate than the bone marrow’s production of it. So,
the bone marrow's production couldn’t keep up with the destruction of the cells causing the body’s blood count to eventually drop. What triggers it? Apparently, the
trigger would vary from person to person. Mine is cold agglutinin, which means,
cold temperature causes my anti-bodies to become active, thereby destroying my
RBC.
It was only last year that my disease was finally discovered, but
I’ve been in and out of the hospital for two years. Last year I had three blood
transfusions because my hemoglobin count dropped to a critical level. As the
blood ran through my veins, so did the realizations in my head—life is short.
It’s a cliché, I know, but apparently, it’s true.
While I was contemplating on what I’ve been doing with my
life, I realized how unbalanced it was. I was too focused on things that would
get me to earn more or achieve more in terms of career; I neglected my family,
and more importantly, myself.
I, of course, asked the doctor if my condition would change
if the illness would actually go away. Unfortunately, I was told that it’s
staying with me for good. Then images of my yaya’s sister who died of aplastic
anemia flashed through my head. Hers was a more difficult case; she had to have
blood transfusion every two months because her bone marrow is not producing
blood. She eventually got tired of the regular procedure. She ran away from our
place and went back home to their province where she finally gave in to death.
I then wondered, how long before I give up from the pain (and expenses!) and
say hi to our Maker? Nah! I realized it was such a depressing thought so I let
go of it. I told myself “why worry about the future when I should be thinking
of the ‘now.’”
I decided that if I am to live with this illness, then I
will live with it happily. I will make sure that every moment will be
worthwhile. I will eat what I want to eat, go where I want to go, spend time
with whomever I want to spend time with. I want to be remembered as an action
taker and not the planner that I have always been. I want to be remembered as
someone who has achieved her goals; someone who doesn’t have any regret.
And so I told my student that plans and goals, to be
achievable, have to be realistic. The future for me is uncertain and doing a plan
for the next five years is not really realistic for me. Maybe a plan for the
next five days is more realistic. My student still couldn’t wipe off the
amazement from his eyes, and so I reiterated: "What is happening in the ‘now’ is
the only feasible thing for me."
