Kellie’s drawings

Back when my daughter was only seven and eight, she made some “drawings” using the laptop. It has her nickname and the date she made it. (Kael is her other nickname). It’s not the super artistic kind of drawing but it’s something I am so proud of. Now that she’s a grown-up, she cringes (in embarrassment) every time she sees it. 😅😆😂

I didn’t put a caption on each because I might misinterpret it. I hope it made you smile. 😊


5:00 AM Manila

Special day

They say, be careful what you wish for.

When I had my accident, I prayed to God: “Dear God, please make me a vampire so I can no longer feel pain. I’m not sure if I can still hold it and I need to provide for my child.

But two days before my operation, I prayed again and said: “Dear Lord, I don’t want to be a vampire anymore. Vampires don’t grow old and my future grandkids won’t be able to call me Lola if their mother looks much older than me.” 😁 Silly me but I was truthful with my prayer.

By the way, Lola is the Filipino word for grandmother.

Today, July 14, I turned forty-nine. Years from now, I’m sure I’ll be a grandmother. It’s one of my dreams, to be called Lola by my daughter’s children. Though we can’t predict our future, I’m praying that I’d still be able to see my future grandchildren.

For my birthday, as with past years, my prayer is to remain healthy (amidst my physical disability), sane and happy for my daughter. God knows my heart’s wishes and I’m sure He’s heard it in my prayers.

God has been so good to me and my daughter. He has blessed my family and provided for us. In my weakest moment, He was with me, and is with me.

I thank God for this life. I thank Him for His love.

And because it’s my birthday, whether you like it or not 😁, I will share with you some photos of mine. 😄😁🤭

Me with my Lola Mameng. Don’t I look like a doll? 😁
Me in a baby walker
Me and my daughter in a family beach trip
Five months before my accident
Five months after the accident
Five years after the accident, the current me in our room while working from home.

Thank you for the support, blogger friends! 🥰


I come from a working-class family. I’m the eldest and I have two sisters after me then two brothers. We grew up with all of life’s simplicity.

But even so, I have personal things that I call my treasure.

I had this little chair when I was three years old. We call it bangkito meaning small chair. It’s part of a chess table. My two sisters also have their own but mine is the last one standing. I don’t sit on it anymore, well, no one, sits on it. It’s just inside our room beside my work table. So, if I’m 48 going on 49 this year, my ‘bangkito‘ will be 46 years old!

I have this pingpong (or table tennis) racket since I was seventeen years old. I didn’t know how to play pingpong until I held a pingpong racket. And I’ll never forget the first time I held one because it felt like it’s part of me. There’s this instant connection between me and the racket. Yes, I play the sport. And I also played badminton and volleyball in high school for intramurals.

Books. I have plenty of books but I don’t have a picture of it now because my daughter kept them in a storage box since we moved in with my parents. Now, I’m more of reading online than holding a physical book. But I still have two Debbie Macomber books which I can easily take out under our bed. 😉

Bible. This King James version Bible dates back 1980. It was my first Bible which I used since first grade in Christian Academy of Manila. In the years that came, I’ve bought other versions.

They’re probably old but they are my treasure. I’m sure you have, too.

10 years ago

This post is not part of my scheduled posts until March. I just happened to see the folder on my laptop where this picture is stored.

Here we go again. Don’t hate me for this. I am just sharing and letting you know how brave and strong I am (I think).

Ten years ago, or ten and a half years ago, I had breast operation.

We had this annual physical and medical exam at work and that’s where lumps in both breasts were found out. It really didn’t freak me out because I have known for a fact that women in my father’s family has it. And sad as it may seem, my sisters and I inherited it.

I had a giant fibroadenoma on my left breast (7.7 x 6.0 cm) and multiple fibroadenoma on my right (3.0 x 2.0 cm and 2.5 x 1.0 cm). Subcutaneous mastectomy was done on my left and a wide excision breast mass on my right on June 15, 2011. My doctor told me that it has 80 to 90% chance of recurrence. And yes, it can lead to cancer. Thankfully, it hasn’t, since then. But she also told me to monitor my daughter when she starts menstruating since it runs in the family, so to speak.

Actual photo but blurred a little

Please excuse the photo but seeing how it looked like when it was taken out of me made me think: how in the world can small breasts like mine have that big ball inside? You tell me because I really don’t know. But my doctor told me that it’s not about the size of the breast. Tumors grow anywhere they want to.

Maybe now you can understand why I cried so much on my previous post December 31, 2021 3:35PM. First, breast and now, my painful right hip.

After my vehicular accident, I realized how strong I am. Because the Lord will not give me something that which I can’t bear, physically and mentally. Even my doctor told me that I have high pain tolerance. Maybe God thought: She just shrugged off the giant tumor on her breast. What if she encounters an accident? What will she do? Will she eventually hate Me for it?

Those were my thoughts!

But just two nights ago, I was crying in pain again. And I was like telling God: can we just stop the pain, Lord? The pain is something like my nerves from the waist down to my foot is being pulled or something. And it’s not making me sit or lie down so I stay standing on my left leg until it eventually subsides. And I’m so tired from work that I wanted to sleep but just can’t, yet. And that happens always. Yes, always.

I’m beyond thankful that the tumor didn’t recur. I am grateful that I have lived after the accident. I am blessed to be able to continue to work even after those operations. And as painful as it is, still, there’s just so many things, so much in life to be thankful for. 🥰🥰🥰

No matter how hard you think it is, you just have to move forward, positively, that is. Because life goes on whether you like it or not.

That’s life.

December 31, 2021 3:35PM

It hurts. It hurts so much but I can only cry in silence. I don’t want them to know that it pains me so much.

I’ve been checked many times to know the reason of the pain. But they cannot find anything after CT Scan and X-rays. Plus, I have physical rehab. Doctors told me that it will eventually go away, that it’s normal. But, it’s been four years and it’s still painful.

Every night, before I go to sleep, I would cry in the bathroom silently. Seated in the toilet bowl, I would pray to God to completely heal me.

Yet, I can’t help but feel pity for myself. Feelings of depression and frustration and helplessness hovers around me.

I miss cooking, doing the laundry, cleaning the house. If I cook a scrambled egg, five minutes into it, pain will inch its way. The operated leg becomes stiff and I will have to drag my leg when I walk or move around. But I still cook scrambled egg or hotdog because everyone’s already asleep when I’m at work.

I used to kneel in prayer but now I can’t. And I miss doing that, which makes me feel helpless more than ever.

Am I such a bad child that God is letting me suffer like this? Are my sins so unforgivable that I have to endure this pain? What have I done so wrong to deserve this?

And though I know that God already knows what I’m thinking and feeling, I dare not question Him when I say my prayer because what happened to me is a far cry to what happened to Job. Even if it feels like I’m not being healed, I still hold on to my faith, hoping and praying for healing, claiming that I am healed. Because to have lived after the accident is already a miracle. With my small frame against an 18-wheeler truck, I could have easily died!

So I can only ask these questions to myself.

My mask of a happy, positive, mentally and emotionally strong 48-year old woman is starting to wear out.

Because it hurts. Honestly. Truthfully. It’s so painful that I’m about to give up accepting that I still can be healed. I just want the pain to go away. It doesn’t matter if I walk with a cane for the rest of my life but please, without pain.

Still, I can’t give up. Not now. Not ever.
My daughter needs me.


P.S. I wanted to help in the preparation for the New Year but I can’t even remain standing for more than 5 minutes. And so my daughter told me to just watch them do everything. And because I have my phone with me, I took to writing before my tears flow down my cheeks and because it’s how I vent out, which came about this post.

Please. Don’t scold me or anything, but just, include me in your prayers. Thank you.