In memoriam: Lucena de Guzman

Inang was in her usual state of being - jolly, sweet and meticulous, sometimes annoying - which make her so much lovable, until I noticed that her voice changed a bit, slightly throaty. The next day, she began to cough accompanied by slight difficulty of breathing (though she is naturally tachypneic). I got my stethoscope and auscultated her, and I heard crackles and rhonchi. She's afebrile. I gave her doxycycline (the only antibiotic available at that time), then I went to sleep. The next day, I made her take the second dose, this time she's kinda febrile. I remembered she still had the levofloxacin that she took the last time she had pneumonia so I made her take it. I asked her what she was feeling and replied "nothing," which made me feel at ease so I went to the gym to workout. Shortly after, on my way home, I recalled about my co-doctor's grandfather who died of pneumonia the week earlier. Weird. When I reached home, I saw my two neighbors (who happened to be nurses). Apparently, my mom called them because something bad happened to my lola. I rushed to her and saw her pale with her dentures out. I immediately gave her CPR and really tried my best to revive her. But finally, I accepted it was her time to go. Tears flowed naturally. Noone would ask for the time anymore, unwittingly reminding me of the water. Noone would ask me for some money anymore, so she could buy snacks. Noone would ask me to color her gray hair anymore, with her sweet voice asking, "Maputi na ba buhok ko?" Noone would sit in her rocking chair in the afternoon anymore, letting the time pass. Noone would ask me to walk with her to the church anymore. I will surely miss you Inang. Now, I'm sure you're reunited with Amang.