If I die today

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It was a saturday. I woke up at around 10 A.M. and wondered where my fellow housemates are. We just drank the whole evening with vodka and tequila until our wits were laid off. A colleague sadly resigned from work and a simple farewell was not enough. That morning, I didn’t have the slightest idea it will be a day I would forever remember.

My arms and feet were numbed as I summoned all my strength to escape the comfort of my bed. I just learned that I’ve got pending chores in the office. I needed to go to work. So I dressed up, got out of the house, walked an approximate 500 meters and rode the next available three-wheeled vehicles hoisting passengers in the old national highway of Sta. Rosa City.

I was sweating profusely as I arrived in the office. At first, I tried to relax and absorbed what was left from the tons of paperwork when I last took off. I failed. It seemed my mind wasn’t ready to grind and start its monotone duty.

I looked around me and saw the usual faces. My boss certainly was not around. It was a rest day for most of us. But not for those willing to spend a little more time for their job.

My focus was straightened out when I finally saw Diane. She was busy with the keyboard and her eyes were glued on the monitor.

I’m sure she was mad about last night. I promised her I will not rejoin the gang drinking. That I will not ever see Emily again, talk with her and even set foot on their apartment. It appeared as my last chance in proving me worthy of words and fidelity.

All things already passed up and the rest that I can do is feel sorry about what I did. I tried talking to her. She was inattentive. On the phone, she responded frigidly with a lot of uhm’s and ah’s. I tried desperately but she seemed disinterested to any of my efforts. It was late noon and my invitation for lunch fell on deaf ears. I ate alone that afternoon and quickly finished my meal, roughly for about 15 minutes.

As I returned to my desk, I immediately noticed she was no longer in sight. Her chair was arranged suggesting she already went out of the office. It was then that my heart started to race fast.

Suddenly, I sprang to life and rushed toward the exits. I checked the corridors and found not even a trace of her shadow. She was gone. I asked the security officer guarding the exit who may have seen her only to confirm that she indeed left the building.

I hurried back to my desk and quickly grabbed my celfone. Bad fate was on my side and I wasn’t able to call Diane due to unpaid bills. Things turned more ugly because no one around me was able to lend his or her celfone for my use. I sweated a lot harder and without hesitation, I held the company’s phone near me and punched the number zero. When I finally gained access for outside calls, I dialed her number and heard the first set of rings. She didn’t answer. I tried again twice but I got the same response. My shirt was almost soaked and wet when I realized it was no longer sweat that’s been falling out of me. I was already leaking with tears.

I was crying because I felt that was it, I lost her forever. It was entirely my fault. I cried and sobbed on my table and didn’t mind that everyone in the office was witnessing my breakdown. I cried louder until I realized that some unexplained reaction is beginning to take place in my head.

My hands and fingers started to get numb and felt cold as ice. With the aide of email and chat, I sent a message and started a conversation with her best friend working a few meters away from me. I told her what had just happened. I desperately sought her help to contact Diane again. As couple of short messages was transmitted further, I can feel my blood raced very fast to my head as if it was getting bigger and wanted to burst. I ignored it at first and refocused my attention on the keyboard, but I was feeling very ill and awkward. When I sensed that blood was flowing in my face as if rushing along the veins and vessels, and out through my skin pores, I asked her to come near because I was about to collapse. My heart pounded wildly and pumped a lot faster than normal. I was catching my breath. I barely noticed how the faces of those beside me looked like when I was breathing exhaustingly. Seconds later, I lost control of my senses and dropped on my knees and eventually, to the floor.

At that instant, I felt I was on the brink of succumbing to my last breath. It was a near death moment. A couple of hands and concerned shoulders carried my almost unconscious body, literally, to the clinic for first aid.

The in-house nurses immediately identified and confirmed what had just consumed me-- HYPERTENSION. My blood pressure read at 160/110. At a young age of 24, every individual I’ve spoken with was shocked to realize I am high blood. I was still crying and grimacing with chest pains but after putting Calcibloc underneath my tongue, I began to cool down. The nurses suggested that I lie back on the bed, stop thinking of absolutely anything to effectively relax the blood circulation in my tired body and muscles. From there, I wondered aimlessly in the ceiling before throngs of office-friends came and checked my condition.

This story is true to its last word, except for the fact that I change the real names of the persons I mentioned. Nevertheless, the life threatening experience let me paused and thought of the drastic changes and decisions in my life.

I was a retired idealistic student who could have been an activist fighting for the “people’s cause” but instead, joined the ranks of slaves of the corporate world.

I was a frustrated musician, who may have been a successful front man of a band just like what Ely Buendia did for the Eraserheads, but instead, kept my kuya’s guitar hanging in the wall for years of no practice and aggravation.

I was a ball handler who loved basketball so much and even tried mimicking Vergel Meneses’ aerial antics and Johnny Abarrientos’ playmaking abilities. In this game where height is truly mighty, I was pushed beneath the sidelines, made me sober, and eventually quit.

I used to dream of putting up a local weekly newspaper for my hometown in Angeles City when I was the editor of a student publication during college, but it took me a couple of years to get back in writing and finish this essay.

So what if I die today? (God forbid!) I may have the wrong decisions in the past but it doesn’t end there, life still goes on. I may have shared my love with a girl who can't love me back, but hey, time heals all wounds. And as long as my cozy anti-hypertensive drug keeps me alive within the bounds of normal blood pressure, I will never get tired dreaming.