Loneliness Is A Friend That Is Never There
Not everyone who are alone are lonely, but if they are, then they must be the loneliest. How does one suvive loneliness? Loneliness can be lethal. People get sick from being lonely too long. It is natural to feel a little bit of sadness from time to time, if only to help us appreciate the happiness in our lives. It keeps us balanced. But to live a life filled with sadness, being alone, with no one to talk to, I cannot imagine such a life. Those who live in the shadows of sadness can be deceiving. They live incognito, walk around the streets with masks that veil their overwhelming pain. People who even laugh the most are those who have cried the most. Their brief moments of happiness keep their sad life "balanced". Everyday, in my clinic, I get to have patients, elderly ones, who would relate to me their sad tales in life. One patient was brought to the emergency room with a board-like abdomen, with episodes of hematemesis and melena. It was a surgical emergency and we were suspecting a perforated viscus due to bleeding peptic ulcer. The problem was, he was totally alone. All of his nearest relatives were in Antique. He had two wives but they all left him. He had no children. He was 56 years old.
With no relative to accompany him, I decided to go with him to Bacolod City. The 3-hour ride on the ambulance was perhaps the longest 3 hours in his life, and perhaps in mine as well. Through out the nocturnal trip, through the mist that covered the mountains, I was thinking to myself. What was probably going through the mind of this old man? Here he was fighting for his life, and he did not have even a best friend to accompany him to the hospital? He was quiet throughout the ride but in his face was some sadness he himself could not repress.
I then looked into my own life, a life which was from time to time studded with its own share of sadness. I found my life to be more blessed, if not luckier, than this man. Through out my depressions, I complained, I grumbled against my God and questioned my faith, poisoned it with doubts and hopelessness. I deliberately blinded myself to the fact that unlike this old man, I have friends whom I could talk to, share a story, even expose myself in anger and fury. I have a family whose support and loyalty has been unquestionable ever since. But I focused on the blurry side of life, squinting my eyes out in tears, having failed to take time and look away, to where friends and family await with comforting embrace.
That night, when I went home, I prayed for both of us.
With no relative to accompany him, I decided to go with him to Bacolod City. The 3-hour ride on the ambulance was perhaps the longest 3 hours in his life, and perhaps in mine as well. Through out the nocturnal trip, through the mist that covered the mountains, I was thinking to myself. What was probably going through the mind of this old man? Here he was fighting for his life, and he did not have even a best friend to accompany him to the hospital? He was quiet throughout the ride but in his face was some sadness he himself could not repress.
I then looked into my own life, a life which was from time to time studded with its own share of sadness. I found my life to be more blessed, if not luckier, than this man. Through out my depressions, I complained, I grumbled against my God and questioned my faith, poisoned it with doubts and hopelessness. I deliberately blinded myself to the fact that unlike this old man, I have friends whom I could talk to, share a story, even expose myself in anger and fury. I have a family whose support and loyalty has been unquestionable ever since. But I focused on the blurry side of life, squinting my eyes out in tears, having failed to take time and look away, to where friends and family await with comforting embrace.
That night, when I went home, I prayed for both of us.
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