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|| 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.

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