Thoughts on the 7th Floor

I found myself on the 7th floor of a hospital at midnight waiting for Paul’s father to be resuscitated by a team of doctors and nurses while our friend Paul was crying in his mother’s arms. Nolan, Jundel and I had unwittingly found ourselves in the same situation and none of us talked much throughout the ordeal. The uncomfortable silence of it all gave me a headache and I felt nauseous both from the smell of the hospital as well as the tension that was in the air.

It started when I received a text message from our fraternity brother, Paul, inviting me for coffee. He was at the hospital looking out for his dad who was scheduled for another surgery. There was no immediate concern on my part, every month or so I would get the same message from him as he would fly out to Manila with his father, cancer meant that he would periodically find his way back to the hospital to be there with his dad for a check up and observation.

I’ve met his dad on several occasions, all prior to the time he was diagnosed. The first time was during my college days during one of the many functions of our fraternity. He was also a member and quite active in its affairs throughout the years. Both his sons were also members, and Paul, the youngest I got to spend time with during college so it was inevitable that I would meet him one way or another. Engr. Andoni Dumlao was a man who had done a lot for his profession, fraternities, college and country. Well regarded by all those who knew him, respected by peers in the industry and dearly loved by his friends and family.

After college, I found myself at their home in Surigao City, being invited by Paul to spend the night at their home. I was in Davao for work and sought out Paul one weekend for some drinks. Before I knew it I had let myself be dragged on a 6-hour road trip to Surigao for dinner at their house. The next day, Paul and I visited his office where his many achievements hung from a wall. Citations, diplomas, awards and many others somewhat made me cringe in the presence of someone who seemed larger than life in terms of what one could possibly achieve. Though I had to get on a bus back to Davao that morning, he had somehow persuaded me to have lunch with them and I was treated to many stories and tales from another time.

The last time I saw his dad prior to that night was at Paul’s wedding. He was a picture of a happy man, with nothing more to ask.

The next day after the three of us excused ourselves from the hospital, Jundel got a message from Paul, Engr. Andoni Dumlao died early that morning.

Rest in peace, brother.