This moment in life. A Prayer for Antonio Santos.

There are moments that tend to put perspective on life and I don't know about you, but I seem to be bombarded by them more and more and it just feels like this may be a year full of them.  I haven't really felt the need in a while to share some personal stuff, however, today I was part of something pretty special yet at the same time something that is extremely tough to cope with.  Carissa's father has been very ill as of late and he's gone from being diagnosed with pneumonia in both his lungs to what now seems to be cancer in advanced stages.  A biopsy this week will determine for sure what a handful of doctors are now finally seeing and we will know just how long he may have left with us.  Though his wife and Carissa's sister only found this out a few days ago, Carissa just found out today and we shifted our evening plans to be with him tonight.

The last few of weeks doctors were unsure about the diagnosis of pneumonia as the main issue as Antonio, Carissa's father, continued to deny major symptoms and stubbornly avoid sharing some details such as the difficult evenings of little sleep and coughing up of blood.  Though his wife, Imelda, would tell his doctor that there was something seriously wrong, Tony would shrug it off and say he's fine.  Whether it was because he was just being a stubborn, filipino male or whether it was fear of seeing his family around him suffer with him, for some reason he just didn't want to fully admit that something was wrong to the doctors and as time went by, things became worse.

A few years ago, he suffered from a stroke and was never the same.  He had to stop working, he quit smoking, and learned to just take it easy and enjoy the simple pleasures in life.  One of these simple pleasures was singing in the church choir which he began to do in his spare time.  Along with a group of fellow filipinos, he would enjoy  singing and look forward to every opportunity to be with friends and sing.  It was shared with me tonight that when he stopped singing it was because of a small cough attack that, in his words, felt like 'his heart had exploded'.  Looking back at this now today, we believe that this may have been when the cancer began to tear through his lungs.

He would stop singing yet continue to not admit to any major health issues even to the doctors.  Since his stroke,  some of his communication capabilities suffered and there were times where maybe his comprehension of the full picture wasn't there.  Yet at the same time, there was a knowing that he was coming to a crossroads in his life and he would quietly ask for special gatherings with friends and family as if he knew more than what he was willing to admit to even those closest around him.  He would finally ask to be taken in to be checked out which had to have been a last resort and even by that time, I can imagine that he was well past the early stages of the cancer.

When the pneumonia was diagnosed, plans for an early Feb birthday party for him were trimmed down considerably and though he was already losing plenty of weight, the thought of cancer wasn't there among family members and he had enough energy for a small gathering and even made his way down to greet his guests with a strong smile and a willing spirit.  Though we continued to pray for healing, symptoms continued to get worse as nights had him in coughing fits unable to breathe and large amounts of blood coming from his mouth.  As his daughter and wife were finally seeing things get worse and sharing these major symptoms with the doctors, Tony had to admit that he had in fact been suffering for a little bit of time now.  And if anyone has experienced a family member suffering from lung cancer, they'll be the first to tell you that it's not something you would wish for your worst enemy.

Since the doctors have diagnosed lung cancer and advised for final preparations, family and friends have been steadily coming to see him.  Over 40 masses have prayed for him and the well-wishes have given him the strength to eat more than a few tablespoons of food and even come down tonight to greet his guests once again which included the choir that he had to stop playing with a few months back.  When the guests first arrived, he remained in his room as everyone had a bite to eat and catch up with our family.  Some even shared their own heart-wrenching stories of family members who have suffered from cancer.  Hearing some of the similarities, it is tough to see that it can be anything but cancer now.  Though it was tough to hear, there was some perspective gained in that if he is indeed in his late stages that he may not have to suffer much longer.

He would make his way down a few steps with a smile, though he would cover it with a mask so not to accidentally spit out blood.  His friends greeted him with smiles and hugs and were careful not to get too close for his immune system is fairly low.  They took group pictures as he sat halfway down the steps only because it took so much energy to go down and then go back up.  After more greetings, his friends continued their dinner and I saw an opening to sit on the step below and share a word.

I asked if there was pain.  He said he felt good now.  I thought, "oh how stubborn", but didn't feel the need to share that.  And then as if on cue, he said, "It does hurt, when the blood comes out." I nodded and began to send him Reiki energy by putting a hand on his knee and just smiling.  I don't know if he was aware, however, I don't think he minded that I was there.  I said that I imagined that it was a lot of ups and downs when it came to how he was doing.  He nodded and said, "God is looking out for me though.  He will take good care of me," I almost started to cry when he said that.

Earlier, I had heard that he said to his wife that he was ready and that he wouldn't be able to deal with the pain much longer.  It was why he wanted to have the gatherings and to be with family and friends.  He would find moments like this to find the strength to share smiles and greetings.  Even when you are so close, it's sometimes so hard to admit that someone seen as so strong in their lives are now slowly being broken down.  I know that this is very difficult for his wife who also deals with pains of her own yet, however, is also finding the strength to believe that he can still somehow pull this out.  It was only when she witnessed his recent painful attacks during the night that she began to believe that this is something more than just a mere cough or cold that he'll get over.  To continue to feel that he will get better and that this will pass was what was the norm, however, this week has been one that acceptance of what this really is has finally began to set in.  And no matter how you slice it, this will not be easy at all.

He smiled as I continued to send him energy for at the very least I hoped that he could continue to be pain free if only for a while as his friends were present.  He would find the strength to come all the way down the steps and sit on the couch as his friends set up to sing for him, a nice surprise for me that I had hoped would happen.  They would sing some filipino love songs for him which were all absolutely beautiful and as I looked upon him as they sang to him and his family, I saw he was pleased and he smiled.  For someone literally spitting out gallons of blood only days ago, for him to find the strength to be there at this moment was incredibly heart-felt, in itself was a miracle, and showed immense courage to enjoy and share life as he could.  The love that was in the room during them singing was just what the doctor ordered and even I felt how unconditional it all was among each and everyone there tonight.  We left him this evening with a much better understanding of his situation and I'm sure we'll be prepared for whatever the news returns following the biopsy this week.

In the meantime, things become day to day and I pray for healing for Antonio Santos and to keep any and all his pain to a minimum.  I know the large number of dedicated masses has helped to provide him with the strength to do the simple things and I ask for continued prayers to anyone who reads this.  And if these are, in fact, his final days with us may they be ones filled with unconditional love such as that I witnessed tonight for that alone has the power to eliminate any and all suffering in everyone everywhere.