Went to the hospital today to visit my cousin. She's a premature born baby and the last I heard she went for bypass surgery the day before.
It was a last minute decision based on the fact that I figured it'd be good to go there and give emotional support praying for the child. (Their family is Catholic by the way.) So it wouldn't hurt doing that simple act. Besides she was my cousin, it was the least I could do.
It didn't help one bit that the rain tore down in sheets from the sky and rattled the roof of the taxi. It was as if the sky was weeping bitterly.
I walked into the airy hospital halls that smelt faintly of antiseptic. Doctors walked around with files in their hands and nurses whispered to each other. The Intensive Care Unit for Children had obnoxious paintings of animals which I found rather distasteful but was nothing compared to what I was about to see next.
I was unprepared for the sight. I was expecting a canister with a heater and a baby in it or something along that line. Apparently those science fiction flicks have left me stupidly naive. I stepped into the room and saw her. Horror, shock and pain tore up my spine and I shuddered.
"Dear God, why are there so many tubes coming out from the baby's nose?" More tubes hung from the sides and as I looked on, the baby shifted uncomfortably and tried to push the tubes that were lodged in her tiny nose away. There were a good six to seven tubes hanging from her body as she cried struggling from the pain. Then she fell asleep and stopped struggling.
As I watched I realized that I had lost all the strength to pray. I just couldn't stand the sight of seeing a baby in pain like that. I just didn't know what to do or what to do.
As we walked away form the intensive care unit, my mom told me in mandarin. That sometimes, just having a healthy body in itself should be considered a blessing. I recollected times when people asked me" Don't you wish you were taller?" And I would reply that it really didn't matter to me. But in those white hospital hallways clamoring with the echoes of beeping machines, I thanked God for my life.
As I sit here to write all this down. I can't help but remember her beautiful eyes, her wispy air Her soft whimpering cries for a mother's tender care and love. Only to realize that all that embraced her, were the cold unfeeling plastic tubes, from which her life hung, on the balance.
I can only pray. "Dear God, please make her alright. She's so beautiful."
