Monday, June 11, 2012

Dog Named After Obama Bites Mommy

So the freaking dog of the century bit my mother on her left arm today.  It pissed me the fell off. The bite was one inch across and was a third of a centimeter open in the middle. It was scary. I wanted to kill the dog.

My mother was all I'm okay I'm okay and we tried to convince her to go to the hospital (after the initial cleaning) to get the anti-rabies shot. We discussed. We got her to go.

Sunday night my doctor friend and I were talking about how it felt when someone you really love gets hurt. Ganito pala yung feeling. E ako pa queen of empathy. When my mother was rewashing the wound dahil sa reco ni doctor friend ako pa yung nahilo. Turns out hindi pala sa sight of blood pero dahil ang huling kain ko was 7 hours ago.

So I ate something from Red Ribbon and pretended to be okay.

She's so strong. Her faith is so strong. It's unbelievable. In one fell swoop everything EVERYTHING that I was worrying about in my sad, shallow, pathetic life (I just say this for drama, of course, my life is great) winked out of existence the moment mortality reared its ugly, uninvited head.

The thoughts that ran through my mind! That I should have been a better daughter, that I should have worked harder the moment I got out of college so I could have given them everything and more, like, say, a dog that doesn't bite, or a stronger house or a better, more self-actualized, less depressive, less impulsive, less lazy me, or just, well, any situation that could have prevented this from happening.

Memories of Ondoy flooded (excuse pun) my head: the thought, of having my family (or any one of them four) gone, will be the death of me. It really will. These things tend to shine a light on what's important, and I'm thankful, thankful, that we're (according to all the people we've talked to) going to survive this stupid dog-biting thing.

I'm not so sure about the dog.