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|| Monday, November 14, 2005 ||


Some people have said that having an ill child is usually hardest on the adults, you who are aware of all possibilities and limited by statistics.

Anyway, suffice it to say that i've been greatly depressed by Pyro's shaved head since well... it was shaved. And dreading tomorrow when he returns to PCMC for another chemo cycle.


Because his Dad had to work last night, he slept with us. He, my cousin and sister would sleep on the floor in my bedroom at such times. My sister actually hates sleeping on the floor but she wouldn't sleep at my brother's bed with Pyro... and we wouldn't leave Pyro alone on a bed.

So floor it always is. (he has a comforter for a matress anyway... my sis has to make do with my earth pad)

Anyway, woke up this morning and looked down.

Imagine my fright when i thought Pyro had been left alone, and was malikot, and managed to wrap a blanket around his face.

I literally jumped from the bed and was going to snatch at the blanket, already praying that he's still breathing... when I saw his beautifully shaved head.

It was his feet that was wrapped with the blanket.


|| Saturday, November 12, 2005 ||


My cousin bathed Pyro after he got his head shaved. Later on, when the fact that he's hairless already sank in...he told my cosuin, "Tita Gang ha, ikaw ha, ligo moko!"

And then he shouts to our helper, "Dimples!!! Asan buhok ko?!"


Pyro has a stuffed toy that looks like a real dog my father owns in Lipa. A researcher for Joy bathroom tissue gave me a pillow with a face of a dog as a token for answering their survey questions.

Py asks me, "Bakit dog walang buhok?"

I answer, "Kasi baby pa sya"

He asks again, "Betchay may buhok, sya ala?"

I answer, "Betchay old dog. Joy little dog... tingnan mo ikaw, little boy, walang buhok"


The little tyke refuse to leave me alone these days. Am almost tempted to beieve that having shared my milk with him once had this "gayuma" effect on him, because he was never needy of my attention before.

Now, he refuses to leave me alone, even when am sleeping.


And because I love him so, I feed him bopis, and frozen Chuckie.


Two days before his 2nd chemo. The shape of his head also bothers me... but am wont to fear because I think am already traumatized.

4 more weeks before my Mom arrives.

|| Monday, November 07, 2005 ||


One would think that your only child having cancer, and him being only 2 years old and requiring a major thoracic cardiovascular surgery (where he could die during the operation) on top of chemotherapy treatments would be enough to put the fear of God in someone... and make him change for the better.

Like become more responsible and considerate.

Like be humbled enough to be grateful and sensitive.

Like be more loving.

Heaven really help me but i've often wondered why my brother couldn't have the cancer instead.

I will not even deny the fact that I consider my brother such a thorn on my side... I love him, true, but there were times I couldn't help but wish God would just take him and spare us pain.

Esply since before, my biggest fear was something really bad has to happen to our Mom (who is also to blame for enabling him to be such a jerk) to shake my brother up and change him for the better.

Jojo once said, God really knows His stuff... trying us where we'd most bleed. And as much as I hate my brother, I'd never have wished a sick child on him. Watching all those times he cried before, my heart would also break for him.

No parent should have to go through this agony.

Which brings me back to my first sentence.

How come then that my brother spends more time tinkering with his motorcycle than attending to Pyro? How come then could he spend hours and nights away hanging out with friends, leaving Pyro to our care? How come then that he keeps forgetting to buy certain things Pyro needs, from diapers to formula to moisturizers?

Ahhh... I could go on and on.

My cousin is postponing a prospective stint abroad for next year... because she knows Pyro needs her.

My sister who has to wake up at 4 AM every day tends to Py when his sleep is disturbed (mainly because he feels it when nobody is sleeping beside him and this upsets him).

But all our caring seem a little pointless because we know it's his Dad he needs the most. His Dad, who didn't even have to ask for help.

His Dad, who has yet to utter a simple word of thanks to any of us.

His Dad, who has yet to make us feel secure that he's finally a responsible Dad.


Pyro is getting his head shaved today.

He's shedding hair like a dog and he's getting irritated by it. Plus, it's already starting to depress us to look at him.


Last night, to entertain him, we played PINOY AKO. My sister and I danced the steps for him to immitate and dance along with us.

He did, for a time. But he got easily tired. But he delighted in being swayed to the music in our helper's arms while watching his aunts dance for him.

This after eating cake with flowers.

And then after this, I shared my milk with him.

Anything for Py.


The fear is so bad that it's gotten to a point where I hate hearing Pyro giggle so much... afraid he wouldn't be able to catch his breath, afraid it would make his heart stop.


The 1st storm was the some two weeks that led to his diagnosis.

The 2nd was his first chemo cycle.

The 3rd will be his 2nd chemo cycle (on the 15th).


He didn't gain any weight ever since he got out of the hospital. He's back to drinking milk (after a night where he drank mine) and he's voracious an eater as ever (sometimes still eating spaghetti at 10 pm) but he hasn't gained weight.

So now, eventhough the oncologist detected improvements in his breath sounds... my heart cannot be still. What if the tumor, like some parasite or ghost in him, is just absorbing all the nutrients he's been getting? It's like having a demon crouched in a corner, ready to strike again after it's regained strength and power.



Where before he'd only sing along with the PBB theme song, "Pinoy Ako", now he also dances to the tune, complete with the proper steps!

And because we already have a videocam, he's been a camera-whore all weekend, delighting in watching himself from the LCD monitor of the cam, making faces and singing songs.


Image hosted by This picture was taken before leaving for PCMC for his first chemo cycle. I was adamant that we take a picture of him then because I knew he might look different after his treatments.

Well, his hair has started falling off.

|| Wednesday, November 02, 2005 ||


Pyro has been this manic eater at home. He's still skin and bones and we sometimes notice how WEAK his spindly legs really are... he hasn't gotten back his groove and run around the house for a loooong time now. But still, he eats a lot and he's very, very noisy.

He heralds his wakefulness every morning by squeezing the trigger on this Avilon chicken souvenir that crows. He does that about a dozen times until someone gets fed up enough to feed him.

The crow hangs by the Christmas tree. That's where he usually sits near... ready to play with my Kissing Bells (which I have yet to finish) and rearrange them around the tree.

Our bad though, he refuses to drink Pediasure. Or any milk for that matter. I was able to get him to take in some 2 ounces of carabao's milk but that was it. We tried making Pediasure into ice candy for him but he started bawling like crazy after the first bite.

He loves vanilla ice cream though. I think we've had ice cream 4-5 times in the past week.

He also loves pizza.

And french fries.

And balut 'soup'.

And dilis. My gosh, we had dilis for 3 days because that's what he kept asking for!

And though the child is still skin and bones, it became easy to overlook the dry skin and thinness because he's playing a lot, and noisy enough, and eating like crazy.


He goes in for a check-up tom. I hope it doesn't depress him so. We have some 14 days before his next cycle.


The worry doesn't go away, for the uncertainties remain.

Yesterday, I snapped at Grace because she made this thoughtless comment that she'd stay with Pyro at home on my wedding day (she's the MOH).

See, we're not sure if Pyro should be allowed to grace my wedding because there'd be all these people there who might give him some virus.

It wouldn't be the same without him (and chances are, my hipag and bro would stay with him, making my family incomplete in the picture-taking)... but how can I also be selfish and insist on his presence when it could be the death of him?

Anyway, it's his doctor's call.

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