A cousin of mine got in an accident a few days ago. She left near midnight and went out drinking with some friends. She hitched a ride on the back of a scooter but it seemed the driver's arms and eyes and brain were second-guessing each other so they crashed.
Her mom was angry the next morning. Well, angry like a seething volcano. She stayed with her in the hospital while she got her five stitches, dextrose, bedrest and more than a handful of Mom's Brand Scolding, machine-gun style.
Her head hit something hard and that's where the stitches were stitched. When she got home I went and paid a visit.
"Masakit ulo mo?"
"Sayang hair mo kakaparlor mo lang."
"Nanigas nga sa tuyong dugo e."
"E di me poknat ka na pala."
Ok, well that only went on in my mind; I'm not that tactless or brash yet. Actually, I couldn't find any ulam at home so I went there to get some food and she just happened to have arrived.
She looked pale and moved so carefully. Her oft-combed shiny hair was limp in a pony.
Two days later I went back, this time after having eaten a scrumptious Tomato-and-Onion-stuffed Milkfish dinner.
"O ok ka na?"
"Tara labas tayo." *smiles*
Later that evening, she asked if anyone could bother to replace her bandages.
Kuya: "Aay baka himatayin ako. Mahina ano ko jan. Nung dati nga naglanggas ako ng pasyente nanlambot tuhod ko."
Zald: "Pinag-assist ako dati ng doktor kasi wala yung nurse. Maduwal-duwal ako, pinalabas na lang ako hehe."
Kuya: "Ayan si D kaya yan."
Apparently I forgot my cellphone at home so I went to get it. By the time I got back the stitches were cleaned. By her mom I think. We then watched Zsa Zsa Zaturnnah.