How I Wish

This morning at about 10:00, the whole group left Rose Anne giving a CPR to her 1-month old pediatric patient to have our 15-minute break. The case was Septicemia. We all know that any time soon the baby will snuff it. I was really keen to stay with Rose.

According to an age-old superstition, if you whisper a wish to a dying person it will come true. I wanted to say my own wish. Foul as it may sound, this kind of superstition still persists. Actually, an instructor told us once about her deathbed wish. For seven years she and her husband were childless and no matter how many tests they had undergone, not a single figment of success was seen. Her father died in a Saint Something Medical Center in Quezon City where she works as the head nurse. During that time, as a nurse, she very well know that her father would not make it. She decided to whisper her wish on his father’s ear and asked for a child just befoire he died. A year after, she gave birth, and then the following year she got pregnant again.

Though sharp as I am to stay, I haven’t had a breakfast yet. My tummy rumbled and I let my feet swept me with the rest of the white-clad student nurses-my groupmates.

After cleaning my instant cup noodle, Rose Ann  entered the canteen. She was unsuccessful to revive the baby. So we all asked, “Nakapagwish ka ba?” (Did you make a wish?). She paused for a moment, thinking what we mean. I repeated the question and when she finally discerned what I mean, she snapped her finger and yelped, “Ay oo nga ano. Sayang nalimutan ko.” (Oh yeah. What a waste I forgot.)