About One Terrifying Week

I never really felt this scared. Dad's in hospital for Dengue Fever, and his thrombocytes concentration dropped to 8.000 (the normal count is over 150.000 - can you imagine how low was that?). He also has a high blood sugar level, so the doctor decided not to give him one of the most effective medicine to boost the thrombocytes (because it could also boost his blood level). Who would have thought that a single mosquito could ruin my family's whole week?

I underestimated "Dengue Fever" because a lot of people have had it and they're just fine. I have had it, and so has my brother. So I laugh at my super-sensitive sister who cried when she heard that my dad needed to spend a night at the hospital, because it is just Dengue Fever. But it turns out that the disease can get complicated for older people, even though my dad is not that old (at least not as old as most of my friends', anyway).

So I cried when my mom called me at 11 pm to tell that he needed thrombocytes transfusion. PMI (Indonesian Red Cross Society) ran out of type-A thrombocytes stock, so we needed to provide our own donors. My brother and I called a few relatives and friends to find suitable donors, then rushed to the hospital and PMI to take care of the blood donation. There were 10 donors that night and 4 the next night, but unfortunately, only 8 people are eligible. The blood donation and transfusion process was quite an emotional experience for someone who always fills her head with an abundance of "what-if" questions - for someone who always, always expects for the worst to happen. I was scared, but I was glad that I didn't have to do that alone.

Dad had 10 bags of platelets transfused, and today his platelet counts are getting better. He's still can't do anything but to stay in bed as he's still feel utterly dizzy and nauseous, but at least the critical period is over. At least he no longer needs transfusion. He still needs oxygen to breath and the low platelet counts did harm his liver, but at least he's feeling better now. At least I do not have to worry that much anymore.

As every other thing that has happened in my life, I know that there must be something to learn. And through this experience, I learned about my kin and friends. I realized that some of them are peculiarly kind and selfless, and even willing to help in the middle of the night, on short notice. There are also some of them who can't be there physically but checks on me and my family frequently - those who gives support occasionally. But there are some relatives who can't even empathize and are not willing to give any help. Who can only blame and talk without giving any comfort. This experience has clearly shown us who's to rely on, and who's to keep our distance with.

On the other hand, I also learned that I might also be a lousy friend sometimes. That I don't really show deep concern to those who might need it. Now that I know how it feels, I should be more caring and supportive. Because during your worst day, even a simple "how are you" would make you feel okay and not alone.

And lastly, even though sometimes I argue with my parents and say cruel things about them to myself, I realized that I'm not ready to live without them. I am aware that it's somehow inevitable, but I think it's not something that I could overcome right now. There's a saying about us being busy growing up that we forget our parents are also growing old, and I learned that it's true. But regardless, I learned the hard way - arduous, even - that I still need their presence in my life. So please Allah, please, keep my family in good health, and shower them with Your blessings and protection.

Everything will be okay. It will be.