HEARTFELT
Geonelynn Gonzaga Turingan
“Hello uncle! I will take blood, okay?”
It was the second time that I took blood from him. He looked at me, weak and probably tired, barely moving in bed with pillows propping him up. And like last time, his radio was playing at the background. He was conscious this time, so I thought I should talk to him while I wait for my tubes to fill.
The song “Still” was playing at that moment, so I had the opportunity to tell him that I like the song and went on that I used to sing it in church. Hearing this, his face lit up, like a child on a Christmas morning.
“I like it too!” came the enthusiastic reply.
Our conversation went on to which church he goes to and that they will be transferring to a new building in Paya Lebar but couldn’t be there during the move. I could see the eagerness in his eyes as he relayed to me the details. Wondering, I asked him how long he has been staying in the hospital.
Six months.
Six months? That is awfully long. He has transferred from one ward to another within the last 6 months, saying hello and goodbye to different sets of nurses. Seeing him almost not moving in his bed and imagining him not spending Christmas and New Year at home, and perhaps some family occasions made my heart ache.
He may have noticed my sullen change of mood that he cracked a sweet smile and said, “Maybe my doctor went on a holiday and forgot to discharge me.” He let out a little chuckle and smiled like a playful boy.
I laughed. I laughed so hard that it made me teary-eyed. Oh, sweet uncle. How can someone physically weak still aspire to be funny in this situation?
What an indomitable spirit. In spite of his circumstance, I felt his gratefulness within. He was not bound to his bed. He is bound to something greater, someone Greater.
I have never laughed heartily in a long time; I have never felt that sudden pang of sadness either. I was half laughing and half crying. With a lump in my throat, I held back my tears. I didn’t want him to see me cry.
As I walked away from him, his eyes closed to rest, he was now wearing a warm smile on his face.
So was I.
This piece was selected as a winning entry in the CHEER™ Short Story Contest: Healing Tales 2025. This is part of a broader effort to capture the lived experiences of Allied Health and Pharmacy professionals. The contest highlights authentic stories that reflect the CHEER™ values—Compassion, Humility, Empathy, Encompassing care, and Respect—and how they are enacted in real-world practice.