Tuesday, October 03, 2006 Malilong: God always answers By Frank Malilong Jr. The Other Side
HE plays badminton, tennis and basketball. He jogs and runs. And at 54, he has had angioplasty.
“The good news is that the tests show that you haven’t had a heart attack”, my cardiologist friend Jun Chio said. Before I could finish saying my thanks, he added, “but tomorrow we have to put you through angiography.” Uh-uh, I told myself, it looks like I’m in some trouble.
I first felt the pain shot up in my chest four Saturdays earlier while playing my third straight badminton game. It vanished after I rested and I went on playing two more games.
The pain would later resurface after every physical exertion but I paid no heed, thinking it was just a simple case of heartburn or muscle strain. Then it became more frequent and severe so I went to the hospital for ECG. I have three such tests made within a two-week period but none showed any irregular results.
Two Saturdays ago when the pain became so unbearable, I was admitted to the Cebu Doctors Hospital for more tests. Three days later, there I was lying under a huge X-ray machine with a tube inserted through an incision in my groin.
The angiography took less than 30 minutes. I had braced myself for angioplasty or bypass so I told Jun to do anything necessary without having to inform me. I was already having difficulty dealing with my anxiety and I didn’t need further aggravation.
I would later know that he and another cardiologist, Edgar Tan, found three arterial blocks which they were fortunately able to remove. Otherwise, I would have gone through the knife by surgeon Peter Mancao, who was, all the time, waiting in an adjoining room.
I would stay in the hospital for three more days which I spent mostly on reflections. At first, I found it hard to believe that I, who carry a reasonable 174 pounds in my 5’8” frame and who exercise regularly, would host three arterial blocks. Then I realized how blessed and how lucky I was. It could have been worse.
I thought of a friend, who has been bedridden for 13 years, victim to a mysterious and deadly disease. The once handsome face has shrunk and the once proud and erect figure sadly bent. Worse, he has lost both his legs.
But never have I heard him complain or indulge in self-pity. Every meeting that we had always begun with him beating me to the “how are you.” Although his handshake is no longer as firm, he would without fail extend his hand every time we met.
I drew inspiration from his courage and faith. I knew that there are things in this life that you cannot fathom. You just have to trust Him. Fold those pages that you couldn’t understand, Jesuit Fr. Ernesto Javier once said, and reopen them later. With God’s grace and in his time, you’d be able to read the message.
Two weeks before my hospitalization, I bought a book because I was curious about its title but never got to read it. “When God Answers Prayer” became my constant companion in my hospital bed.
The book’s second chapter says “God Still Answers Prayer.” I beg to disagree. God always answers prayer.
