I stared blankly at the immaculately white ceiling. It's been almost a month since I've been confined in this hospital bed, and it's tiring to wait to get discharged. My body was still adjusting to the new medicines I'm taking, and it will surely take time.
I heard the hospital bed creak and I know my roommate was already awoke. I turned to her, and as usual, she looked in pain.
I pity her more than I pity myself.
She really looks tired from all the medications and injection shots she receives every day. She's been confined for more than a month, and up until that day, the doctors still couldn't diagnose what exactly her disease was. I sighed because I somehow felt her situation.
It really was the same uncertainty I felt during my first days of lying in the hospital bed. Everything was uncertain to the point that I often lay awake on nights overthinking what specific kind of disease I have—or whether I'm destined to die. After a week of overthinking, my dreaded suspicion came to life.
I got lupus, and I really cried.
I know what most likely happened to those who were diagnosed with lupus, but it wasn't the sole reason why I'm upset. It's the expenses that come after. The medications will go on even after I get discharged, so I think that will make me a greater burden after all.
I carefully stood up and gazed out the window. It was way past afternoon, and there were a lot of students walking across the street. I felt a pang of envy because I knew there was a chance that I couldn't be like them anymore. I felt my eyes heavy from the unshed tears that's threatening to spill down my cheeks, but I hold it back because I don't want to feel pathetic after I vent it out. I sat down and let my eyes close.
'I just want to sleep and forget all of this,' I thought.
'Better said than done.'
Days passed like wind, and finally it will be tomorrow that I'll get discharged. I was restless, and I couldn't contain my excitement to go home. They already removed the IV canula from my hand; that's why I can freely pace around the room. The hostile patient that was across our room was already discharged a week before, and I was quite glad that she was. I was both happy that she finally recovered and relieved because I would not see her glaring eyes every morning. She really looked quite scary whenever she stared at me.
Suddenly, my contemplation was interrupted when the door of our room opened, and I was really surprised to see that the discharged hostile lady was back again. She was unconscious when she arrived, and she somehow had lost weight. Her father, who used to look after her, also looks tired and problematic. He's calling his wife, who sounds frantic.
I stared at my sleeping mother. A thought suddenly came up.
'Am I becoming a burden to her?'
My heart suddenly felt heavy at that thought. I know this is just one of the effects of my disease, but no matter how hard I tried to ignore this thought, it just sometimes popped out of nowhere. And somehow it gnaws at the last chunk of hope I have for myself.
"You should have woken me up, gette," my mother said gently when she woke up minutes later.
I bit my lip to suppress my urge to cry.
'I don't deserve you'
"It's okay, ma; I know you're exhausted, and besides, I have already slept for quite some time," I said while smiling.
Despite smiling at her, she seemed to notice that I wasn't fine. She held my hand and said, "Gette, don't worry, we'll get through this."
I hugged her... tight.
We finally arrived at our house—home, to be exact.
It's exactly the same way I've left it, and I'm really glad to be back. But after a few days of staying in our home, I suddenly felt lonely. My mother is with me, yet I know her mind isn't. She has a lot of financial problems to handle, and it's because of me. I tried to help out with some house chores, but my parents said that I shouldn't bother with it because it can strain my body.
With nothing to do, I felt really useless.
I still can't go back to school because I'm literally homebound, and it's starting to affect my mental stability.
Even though I'm inside our home, it still feels like I'm away from them. I know my sister was somehow annoyed with me because the number of house chores she needed to do increased because I couldn't help her with them. I badly wanted to talk to her, but she seemed so distant. She, the only person that I thought would understand me, seemed to have completely abandoned me. As for my parents, I don't want to bother them because I know they are facing a lot of problems because of me.
Then one night, she arrived home, looking really tired. She immediately lied down on her bed after changing her clothes. I know she's tired, so I started to wash the unwashed dishes.
"Why are you washing the dishes? Where's your sister?", my mother asked.
"It's okay, ma, I'll do this. She's tired from school, so I'll do it for now," I said quietly.
"No, no—you shouldn't...Loiiiii! Why is your sister washing the dishes? Get down! Wash it now!", she shouted.
"No, ma, I can handle this; no need to—
"No, gette, go back to your bed and rest now; you're not fit to do this yet. Loiiiiii, what's taking you so long?"
"Ok, ok, I'm here, your highness," she said contemptuously.
She rolled her eyes when our eyes met. I looked down because I somehow understood why she was annoyed.
Days passed, and she still hadn't talked to me. I'm starting to feel extremely sad, so finally, that day, I decided to try starting a conversation with her.
"Loi, I know you're suffering because of me, but I think you shouldn't ignore me," I said weakly while staring at her intently.
"I'm glad you know," she said sarcastically.
"Tell me what's your problem, Loi; we'll talk—
"No, we can't because you never understand me," she said bitterly. "Ever since then, they always favor you because you're the bright kid. You always hog the spotlight, and you know what's left for me? It's their sorry sympathy! That I'm below the mediocre! So don't act like you're the only one hurting... Don't act like I'm the bad guy here... It's you... It's you gette...
'Loi...', I said while tears streamed down my face.
"Don't cry on me! This is all your fault. Your disease was triggered by your inability to handle failure—ah, of 'course you can't—because you're always the achiever that can't handle the failure, eh?"
"Loi...", I called out her name in a cracked voice. "I know, I know it's my fault...but Loi, does it cross your mind how hard it is for me to accept all of this? I'm not the same as I was before. I can't ever be the same...I'm already defective! I—" my breath hitched for a moment. "Am burden who does nothing but bring misery to you all... I'm no longer the... girl I used to be.. So please don't shut me out...You're the closet friend I have, Loi. Don't hate me, please...I'm so sorry that I made you feel that way... I'm sorry that I caused you many problems...I'm sorry I didn't become the bigger sister that was supposed to make you happy... I'm sorry... I'm sorry Loi..."
Tears just fell endlessly down my face. I tried to suppress the welling sob by pressing my hands on my mouth, but my sobbing just became more violent. I'm starting to feel breathless, and then I feel a hand on my arm. Tears blurred my vision, but I know it's Loi. I wiped off my tears and saw that she was also crying.
"I'm sorry...", she whispered while clutching my hand.
I weakly nodded... and together we cried.
After a while, we stopped sobbing. Silence reigned, and later on, my mother arrived. She looked at us and raised a brow.
"What happened to your eyes? Did you two cry ?" she asked suspiciously.
"No, ma," I lied regretfully.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, ma," Loi answered.
I looked at her, and she smiled.
'Sorry', she silently mouthed.
A heavy feeling somehow took off.
