"You have stage two Liver Cancer." the doctor told my 2nd sister. She was shocked and the first person that she called was me. "Baby Brother, sit down as I have something to tell you." she said with her voice trembling.
She talked to me how for the past few weeks she has been feeling extra tired and drained. At first, she attributed it to stress and a heavy workload but had taken the time to visit a doctor who recommended further testings.
I felt a lump in my throat and tears welling up as she said what the doctor told her. Yet her intention to call was to ask me to get myself tested for it too. Even in this situation she thought of me.
My sister and I never really saw eye to eye when we were growing up. We had an age gap of 8 years and for the longest time she thought she was already the "bunso" (the youngest) then I was the first boy in the family as well so all attention went to me.
Our nickname for our sister was "Amazona" because she played volleyball for her school and was so strong. We have a heavy table made of Narra and it takes three people to even nudge it a bit but she can push it on her own.
Another Amazonian trait she had was a seemingly impervious skin to bullets as one fateful New Year's evening when she was struck through the foot of a falling down stray bullet. I still remember her howling in pain as we all rushed in her room and see a still smoking bullet next to her. I remember laughing and getting chased down by a very enraged sister. To describe our relationship as mere sibling rivalry is too mild. We had a love/hate relationship with lots of physical pain.
Even boys did not escape her fury as we once saw her punch a guy who was apparently being too fresh.
Since she was older she always ordered me around and nagged me for every single thing. She nagged me about brushing my teeth, feeding the dog, fixing my bed. She would nag me from morning till night and I truly hated her so I usually bunked with my eldest sister who I got along really well.
Our Matriarch would always that for two people who looked like each other so much we hated each other's guts. She would shake her head every time she would see us fighting.
Eventually, we outgrew the need to physically hurt each other when I reached my growth spurt and became serious in martial arts and football. It wouldn't look well if I smack my sister with my strength and she became more ladylike because of boys.
It wasn't just physical appearance that we shared. Apparently, we also had the same genetic disposition to depression and scoliosis. So she having this meant I had a greater chance of being afflicted as well.
We also had our Pops(father) die from liver complications so I was really at risk.
She has a husband, four kids, a business to run, countless responsibilities and she felt it was the end of the world because she was given 5 years to live. She cried each night as my niece recalled. Yet she never forgot to remind me to take the test. Even then she would still think of me.
I was afraid to know the truth. I buried myself in work. I would not respond to her messages to get tested. When she called I always diverted the conversation back to her and how she was doing. I was not acknowledging it because ignorance is bliss.
I remember her threatening to sit on me if I did not do it. I laughed and cried at the same time as it has been years since the last time she physically threatened me.
She was getting weaker and she wrote her will and asked us to take care of her kids. Look after them when she is gone. She was frail. A shadow of the Amazon she was in our youth. She was not responding well to treatment and she complained about the sores.
In between lucid moments, she would ask for my forgiveness for beating me up when we were kids. I told her I love her and would make sure her daughters who look like us were never get hurt by any boys. They would go through an uncle sporting a shotgun before they could court my nieces.
She cried a lot. My Matriarch cried a lot while she beseeched God to spare her daughter. so many teardrops fell on the hospital floor each day.
She was switch between different treatments and the Matriarch's belief in the unknown turned to alternative means.
Her voice raspy and dry she asked me again if I had myself tested already. I shook my head while trying to blink away the tears because she still nagged me in her weakened state. I finally relented and had the doctors test me.
The results came back and she wanted to be there when it was read. The doctor explained that there was a tumor. I eventually had a biopsy and returned to her to inform her that it was benign.
"Benign" she whispered and she smiled. She was tired and fell asleep.
We really did not know what happened but she started to respond to treatment. She, like the rest of the women in our clan, was strong-willed. She was tired of feeling sorry for herself and her family, she was tired of crying and feeling helpless, she was tired of not doing anything.
With Amazonian strength of will, she got up and declared herself to get better. It could be any of the treatment she underwent, it could be the prayers of the Matriarch or one of her weird alternative medicines taking effect. It could be the sheer love she has for her family or even knowing that I would live in a weird sense of sibling rivalry she wanted to live as well. She got better.
It has been three years since that happened. It was one of the scariest things we had to face as a family. Yet we are still here as dysfunctional as ever and with our own weird sibling love to one another.
She messaged me this morning that she visited the Sirao Flower Farm in Cebu. She described the tulips but said she liked the sunflowers. It always looked like hope to her.
"We should always live our lives with hope" she said with tears of joy in her eyes.
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