Out of the Mundane...

It all started when I was in high school. I was a boarding student. One afternoon after labour, I was speaking with a roommate who seemed to be acquainted with my extended family. Mid way into the conversation, I felt a little discomfort in my throat. Next thing, a stone flew out of my mouth. It was a yellowish stuff. Curious, I crushed it using my fingers, took my fingers up to my nose and perceived it. The smell was very offensive. I washed my hands and made a mental note to discuss it with my mum when she comes visiting.

Seven years later, I graduated and I'm now in a tertiary institution. Currently lying in a ward of a private hospital and all I can think of is how it started.

Over the years, my condition worsened. I grew to realize that I was suffering from tonsillitis. Each time I spat the stones, I'll complain to a pharmacist. All they gave me was antibiotics, it's all I could afford. Once I took them, I would be okay for a few months and then it would re-emerge.

The symptoms ended up being more severe than it used to be. My parents, who never act promptly when I complain about my health, finally took me to the hospital two months ago. This was during my semester break. The result of that visit wasn't pleasant. The doctor said my tonsils were terribly infected as they were swollen and coated with yellowish and white stuff. I needed to undergo an immediate surgery.

We didn't have such money as I come from a very humble background. It took about a week to get the money for the surgery. I was successfully operated on. The healing process however, is what I cannot even afford to explain to human comprehension.
Bottom line is, the injury from taking out my tonsils got infected terribly. The doctor said my chances of survival were slim as they gave me every possible medication but my health kept deteriorating with each passing day. I was told I have a maximum of 12 months to live but I doubted I'd even make it that far. I was losing weight drastically and my eyes were getting paler.

After a month of living in depression, I decided to do something for myself, just in case I don't make it to the end of the year. This is the reason why I'm currently lying in a private hospital's bed.

I know just how much impact I would have made in this world if only I had the chance to live but since it doesn't look like it,

I opted for surrogacy.

I cannot just leave this world and let my dreams die as well. Having someone else carry my child and knowing that he/she will be in good hands after his/her birth is a dream come true.
I want to leave a soft reminder of myself in the world.
Everything was successful. I'm only here for a check up together with the surrogate mother of my child.

I already have a good relationship with God so I'm not afraid of death. As a Christian, I believe in the afterlife of heaven and hell. I'm equally aware that I'm going to a better place.
The burden of giving up the ghost has been lighter since the dangerous stages of the surrogate process were over. So what can I say to the ones I'm leaving behind?

"Like the flashes of lightning
Like the speed of a fox
That's how swift this life is…

A while ago I was but an infant
Waiting to be fed and sang to
Now I'm but a helpless soul
Waiting on death to call me home.

All I feel is nothing but regrets
I wish I fought harder for the things I wanted: money, comfortable life, good health, to be heard for a just cause, rather I shied away from opportunities because I always doubted myself.

But how could I not, when I had a father who doubted me more? Who understood nothing about the 21st century and thought the key to everything was formal education, never pushed or supported me in going for the things I wanted to try because he didn't understand my vision, was afraid of change and would rather I stick to a pattern he was accustomed to, a pattern that never moved us out of poverty.

So to the ones I'm living behind, I'm saying fight!
For your sanity, for your future, for your unborn kids, fight!

I'm screaming love! Fearlessly, fiercely, fiery, healthily, please love!

Be kind! To the needy, to the helpless, to the one hurting, to the one abandoned.

Build! Your dreams, your life, your aspirations.

You owe it to no one else but yourself. You're first a good thing to yourself before you are to others. Make you proud because at the end of the day, you are all you've got"

I have no idea if any of these makes sense, but these are pages from my current book Out of the Mundane… the last words from a dying lips. Another attempt to tell the universe about the experiences and lessons gotten out of this earthly world just before I pass away. I guess my dream to be heard will become a reality after all.

^{My cover photo is a combination of two photos from Unsplash originally owned by:
Christian Holzinger and Jordan Steranka
Edited by me on Canva.}