A vague thought in my mind after Kaiyen and I saw each other on her recent trip to the Philippines
was that living alone is.an adventure. Be it doing household chores or
just plain living from day to day - it still is really just another
adventure...with good and/or bad results.
What
got me to thinking about writing about the mundane and not so mundane
things which I have to put up with while living by myself is simply
because I was unprepared for the probability that Kaiyen would manage
to get a foot inside my living quarters here in Manila.
As usual, since I was not expecting visitors at all, I could only
describe the current appearance of my unit as cozily chaotic That is
obviously a euphemism. Luckily, Kaiyen, Steve and Glenn managed to keep
a deadpan expression on their faces when confronted by the piles of
various things tottering dangerously all around my living area.
As
for me, I was trying to be animated in a devious bid to distract them
from the larger than life debris (luckily, I had a couple of minutes to
throw some of them out before they arrived).
There
are a lot of pros and cons to being by myself. But I lean heavily
towards the pros. My personality and early upbringing is suited to this
kind of lifestyle. Freedom and independence mean a lot to me and I
cannot even begin to completely express how happy I was to find out
that after living for so many years with my family, and as an only
child of a sometimes protective, conservative father and an
adventurous, free-spirited mother - being just by myself for the first
time in Manila (1995) and a couple of times afterwards was something I
took to like fish takes to water. I cooked, cleaned and looked after
myself as if I was doing it my whole life. Some friends who knew how
easy life for me was at home in Cebu City were quite surprised.
It
has not been a bed of roses. One of the worst experiences I had
involved physical pain and afterward even some not-so-copious tears (I
do not like indulging on tears at all since they make my nose red and I
have sniffles for the rest of the week, plus I have a tendency to
develop tonsilitis after a good cry).
February
of last year, I was due for a physical exam (PE) preparatory to joining
my current company. I had only taken a half-day off due to the hectic
schedule and duties to fulfill to the soon-to-be-ex-company before I
resigned, as well as other things I had to prepare for the new
company.Juggling all this meant that I had a very tight schedule to
adhere to. I arrived at the clinic early in the morning as I was hoping
to get ahead in line and finish everything instead of coming back
another time.
Stepping
out of the cab when I went for my PE had me putting my right foot onto
a hidden hole beside a tree root in a sidewalk here in Makati.
The cab had parked next to the curb and who would have expected that
the tree on that area had some hidden danger for an unsuspecting,
frazzled cat like me?
I
abruptly sprawled down on the pavement like a drunken horse, my foot at
an awkward angle and stuck inside the hole. After some maneuvering and
discreet wincing, I stood up and patted my rump free of dust. Maybe the
embarrassment I was feeling swept away the pain but I managed to
saunter almost normally through the doors and into the elevator out of
the prying and, I felt, somewhat amused eyes of other people who had
seen me in an undignified heap on the normally busy sidewalk.
I
went around the clinic being passed from one doctor, nurse and
attendant to another and I finished before 12 noon deadline I imposed
on myself. Ironically, my injured foot wasn't part of the physical
checkup at all. My right foot was now throbbing a bit since I had to
zigzag from one end of the clinic to another with my various bottles of
what-nots and exams. I decided right there and then to use the HMO card of my company for the last time since I never used it much.
Makati
Medical and the clinic for Caritas I could hobble to since they were
about two blocks away and I did with some gracious slip and slide. I
managed to grab an unappetizing sandwich and put some bottled water
inside my stomach to get me fortified for the travails I had to face
the rest of the day.
You
have to get the Letter of Authorization (LOA) so that you could go to
the doctor for a checkup and so I did a mixture of hopping and skipping
to the Caritas clinic from the other clinic in good time. I was quite
anxious since it was near lunch break, it was a safe bet the elevators
would all be crowded, and there was going to be a long queue for the
LOA.
This
part was not so bad, since with some luck and good timing, I managed to
cross to Makati Med from Caritas and again queued for the assigned
doctor to examine me, after his lunch break of course. He
was astounded when he saw my poor right foot since by that time aside
from the obvious swelling, the big dark violet and bluish bruise could
now be easily seen on the rightmost side of said appendage, almost
stretching from my toes to the back near my heel.
He
said I must have a high tolerance of pain, which was not really a
surprise to me, since my dentist said the same thing during my root
canals. Normally - sez the good ole doc, most people would be unable to
walk around with that kind of swelling and bruising without any help
from other people or from a cane at least, and not on the same day an
injury like that would happen.
Well, what could I do?
It
has been hours since I wrenched the foot, and I did not bring my
umbrella to use as a makeshift cane since I did not foresee this little
accident, and calling on an uncle of mine in Makati Med would still
have me going through the same process..and it could take more minutes
of hopping around, which I really didn't want to do. I was tired of
being an urban bunny-wabbit by that time even if it sounded cute.
The next problem I could see was that he would want my foot to be x-rayed. Oh yes, right on schedule he did! Ah, the advantages of thinking ahead...though it didn't lessen the pain. I
tried to tell him it was more of muscle and probably torn ligaments or
something and that there was no need for an x-ray but he wanted to make
sure so there was nothing I could do except accede. At the back of my mind I knew
that if I waited for the next day, I could not be sure of being able to
walk anymore so better to finish all that could be done that day while
I was still partially mobile. Drat, this would be the perfect time for
a tall, dark and handsome stranger to bump into me! But where in
blazes was he?
This time, as I unsteadily and slowly limped back from Makati Med to Caritas Clinic (I felt it was for the nth
time, but maybe it was just the second time). My HMO needed me to get
the LOA from them before I could do it in Makati Med. Drat. I could
feel shooting pains on my affected foot. I gritted my teeth as I went
through the whole process again with the walking up the front stairs to
the building, the guards giving visitors their id cards, the waiting
for the elevator, the crowd, the queue for the processing, the
explanations, and the LOA.
Thankfully, the X-ray room was just in the same building although on a different floor. At
least I did not have to hop like a kangaroo to another building since
the pain worsened when I moved around - just from floor to floor. Small
mercies were given, but I could not help but whimper softly when the
attendant arranged my injured foot for the x-ray as it had to be
flattened. This time I was just biting my lip and she must have seen my
face since she gently patted me on the back and said it would be over
soon. At last, a friendly, sympathetic face!
After
this ordeal, I knew with bitter certainty that I just could not rest
yet. I could not wait anymore for the x-ray results but I still would
have to go to a drugstore to buy a bandage to wrap my foot in, or some
athletes' gear which would support the foot so I could at least walk on
it since I still had things to do afterwards. Life still went on even
after this fiasco!
The
god of taxis was listening to my prayer and I was able to get one
without waiting for too long on the side street. I would have screamed
like a banshee if I had to do battle with other waiting passengers on
that hectic afternoon. The taxi driver deposited me on Mercury Drug in
Legaspi St, which is the same street I live on (albeit
on the other end) and I again began the painful journey, but this time
at least I knew I was more than halfway to the finish line.
I
was only able to get the bandage since they did not have the foot
support sock I wanted. I didn't buy any painkillers at all since I
thought I would be too woozy and I still had work to do, even if it was
going to be from home. This time, I suddenly felt hotness at the back
of my eyes. I felt as if I would become teary-eyed and bawl out in less
than 2 minutes if I did not get hold of myself. My stoicism faded for
an instant.
It
was a culmination of the pain, tiredness, irritation, some self-pity
and hunger (what else? it was past 4 pm already) and my stomach was
still functioning normally by noisily complaining about the lack of
sustenance. I think that walk towards a sporting goods store in Greenbelt 1 was the most painful and slowest one I had taken in the whole of my life.
Maybe
the pain was aggravated by the cold air inside the mall. I had
already wrapped the newly bought bandage tightly around my foot but
this time, even with that, the pain was a steady throb, regardless if I
moved or not. I felt like I was walking on a knife stuck in the middle
of my aggrieved foot.
I berated myself silently. I could not afford to cry in the middle of Greenbelt
and leaning against the wall would not do anything for me except make
the whole ordeal drawn out. I said to myself - they say that giving
birth is the most painful of all, so by Jove, this pain is nothing! -
go in there and buy the darn thing on the double and no
shilly-shallying about it!
After
all, I still had to get home and that meant walking from Mercury Drug
to my building. This time, I wished I had a genie who could at least
give me a walking cane. I was tempted to buy an umbrella just to have
some support, but that would mean more walking for me to Watson's or
some other store.
Rivulets
of sweat beading my temples, I walked..or at least tried to. In the
end, I did not care anymore if I looked like a drunkard (people were
avoiding me since I was swaying a little bit sometimes and I was
keeping to the walls). I found the sporting goods store and bought the
support cover/sock for my foot. I even managed to interview the store clerk on the different models and items they had which could suit my purpose.
Afterward,
I breathed a palpable sigh of relief. Even if I had to go to work
tomorrow, I was optimistic it would not be as bad as today was! Well,
barring the event that my foot would swell to a medium-sized cantaloupe
of course.
So,
I knew the drill and this time I ponderously began the long, slow and
painful process of walking home alone. I could not help but think that
if this had happened to me in Cebu,
it would be so much easier since I could ask for atis leaves and get
some "mananambal" (healer) to massage the throbbing foot.
I
am not saying that I do not like the idea of my parents fussing over me
even if my mom sometimes does - although they are pretty used to my
scrapes and do not really howl about it. What irked me was the thought
of having no access to the kind of good ole remedy I would have been
given were I at home.
All
these and other thoughts occupied my mind as I dragged my unhappy feet
back to my abode. I stopped once in a while to get my breath back and
to look as if I was enjoying the various scenes I passed by.
Upon
arrival at the building I lived in, some of the guards exclaimed
sympathetically and gave me some tips on what to do - like rolling my
foot on a bottle to exercise it and make the blood flow. The OIC of the
Security, who watches out for me, offered to help me to a "hilot"
should I decide I wanted to have my feet massaged. Unfortunately, I
didn't know any here in Manila.
I
managed to smile wanly and thank them all graciously but said I must
really go up and rest. Finally I went through my door, rooted around in
my kitchen cupboard and rolled my right foot on an empty iced tea
bottle. After a while, I ate some biscuits and stared at my injured
foot for some time. I felt like conversing with
it if only to berate it for the unexpected trouble and pain I went
through on its behalf, but by then the events of the day had caught up
with me.
I promptly went to bed and propped my foot up on the footboard.
And I woke up the next day, and went to work.
Since
I was walking almost normally,with nary a wince or frown, did not use
a cane, and with only a bandaged foot to show for the whole adventure,
everything seemed almost normal at work that day, as if nothing
untoward happened. I got asked if I was okay
since I was practically absent the other day but I was not keen on
retelling the painful tale so I just shrugged and said well, I am
walking wounded but I am alive!
At the end of the week, I called home and told my parents what had happened.
By
that time, they could not fuss anymore since I said I was on the way to
recovery, there was no need for a "hilot" anymore, and I had an
appointment with the doctor the next week following the results of the
x-ray, the swelling had all but disappeared and the color of the bruise
had now changed a bit to an ugly yellowish-green from the colourful
eggplant it used to be and best of all, I survived hobbling by myself on that day and had a new company to look forward to working with. Just another day in the life of a solitary cat.
Postscript:
A
friend saw my foot after I unwound the covers a few days after the
accident..and he told me it was probably good that I walked on that day
instead of babying my injured foot. It got it to heal faster and
allowed the blood circulation to be forced to the injured area. I don't
know how true that is, but at this time, I like to think that suffering
was not for nothing. Life still throws you some sugarcane along with
the lemons. *wink*
Location: home in Makati City
Mood: jaunty :-)
Music: guitar gods in YM
I was amazed and literally gawking at the brilliance of Tolkien's mind in creating a seriously, and I mean seriously, complex story, and all because of his constructed languages! 
