Today has been a long day. We brought Yad to the hospital because his left leg has been lacerated early in the afternoon today. The laceration was, I think, 4-5 inches long and the wound was so deep it needed to be stitched through. I had no idea what happened when suddenly my Uncle came running and screaming to bring Yad to the hospital. When I heard the word hospital, panic quickly got me before I can even get out of the house. There was a commotion outside the house and a handful of people was helping Yad walk because of the huge laceration.
When I saw it, I thought I fainted. No, I felt like I was dying. Blood was all over his left leg and foot - the sight of which, plus the gigantic, fresh, deep wound made me sick and screaming in terror, asking everybody what happened. Although everybody was telling how he got it, that while playing he fell from a trunk of banana tree and accidentally had his left leg lacerated by a broken glass or something, I didn't hear them. All I can think about was to bring Yad to the nearest hospital before the infection spreads out - and before my sanity runs out. I felt the agony that my son was going through. I always can't stand the sight of wound and blood - but to see that in my son? I thought I almost died.
But while I was scared to death and in tears, my son didn't even shed a drop. Although from his look you could tell that he was scared too, boy, how strong he was for not shedding a tear. I know he was just frightened because everybody around him was nervous and concerned. When he saw me crying, that's the only time when I saw the worried and pained look in his face. At the tiny part of my mind, I was so proud of him because whilst he has this worried look it never suggested that he wanted to cry. Of course, it tore my heart even more, who wouldn't when all the while you knew how terrible the physical pain was but your son was trying to be really brave and acting like a man to endure it all? It was unbelievable.
I kept on bragging on this blog how my boy is quickly growing to be a fine man. But today proved me that he is not just a man, but a strong man at that; because when the nurse cleaned and dressed his wound, he never cried as well - just covered his pained face with his hands. When I had a little accident on May, my cuts and wounds were cleaned and dressed like that, so I knew exactly how excruciating the pain that he endured through.
When he was injected with anesthesia to numb the part around the lacerated area, I also knew how worse the pain can go. But Yad, while holding my hands, just squeezed them really tight probably to reduce his agony. Oh boy, if only I could take all that from him.=( When the doctor, the same physician who treated me before, stitched his deep wound through, Yad did the same. Never cried. Just squeezed hard my hands while crimping his face because of pain. I held his hands because I wanted to share it with him.
All along this drama in the hospital, I was fighting hard to give in to my weakened emotions. It broke my heart to see my son going through it and I wanted to break down in tears again. But I refrained from doing so and never gave him the horrified look to lessen what he was feeling. I didn't want to see his mommy weak for he might get more scared. I just wanted him to feel that I will always be there and be strong for him, just like how strong he is, so that he'd knew everything will be alright.
When the stitching was done (Thank God), I released a long, deep breath of relief. I thanked God that my son is alright now. I thanked God that the wound didn't go deep down the muscles and tendons in his left leg - otherwise, that would have been a different case. I just thanked God that Yad still felt physically and emotionally strong after the treatment that he went without us supporting him walk when we were about to go home. I just thanked God that Yad is here with us now - soundly sleeping and braving through the post-pain and from what happened early this afternoon.
And finally, I thanked God that he made Yad as strong that he is. Because, if he weren't, I wouldn't have known where to derive more strength. Yes, he is my strength - actually the only strong force why I keep going through even amidst a sequence of trials, difficulties, and downfalls.
I know God is always with us, caring for us all. With all of my heart, Thank you so much for everything, Our Dear God!
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