It has been years, but it still has the power to stop my world.
One day, over a serving of takoyaki, my friend casually mentioned, "Kabalo na ka no? Nag-chemo si _______?" I was in the middle of swallowing one takoyaki--a hot, newly taken out of the molder--when she nonchalantly just said it as if she was talking about the weather. I didn't know what to do or say. Nothing came to my mind. I looked at her, and looked at her and looked some more. All the while trying to get hold of my thoughts that seemed to have scattered everywhere but in my head. While I groped for something to say, she just looked at me smiling. Then, I started blabbering. I didn't know what I said, nor did I know what I was saying at the time, and I can't even recall what I was saying.
That night, I thought about what happened that day. And I arrived at a glaring conclusion: I did not handle it well.
I had thought I developed immunity to such news.
I had had at least one experience of caring for a chemo patient. My young niece was afflicted with ALS and later, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. I had spent time suffering seeing the one I loved in pain, and I could not do anything about it. I had scoured every literature about the disease. I know how draining to the pocket this sickness is. I had spent sleepless nights worrying about these people close to my heart who had caught this terrifying disease. And I am still here. I got to share my experiences to those who are currently undergoing what I had been through. It, at least, lessen the heartache of loosing a loved one. Since my mother died, several people have confided with me about their worries over the very same ailment that struck Mama. And then, as if programmed into my brain, I would readily share what I have learned and experience, hoping it would help them a little.
I had thought no news about cancer could surprise me anymore.
And then my very dear friend sprung that on me out of the blue. And my world stopped.
My friend posed as if it were nothing. She said it so casually--a little too casually. But I felt differently. I knew that there was nothing I could say or do to make it go away--far away from them. So I clumsily blabbered. And I might have said and did the wrong things. One thing I failed to tell her--the one important thing that I should have said--I will be here for her. No matter what. I hope that she knows.