Wish Stories

A boy shares the power of the wish

September 07, 2002
By Constantino C. Tejero
Inquirer News Service

The lump on his left arm was discovered last year during the Holy Week. It grew rapidly and caused so much pain to the boy, but it was not until three weeks later that he was taken to the hospital for a checkup. The finding: osteosarcoma proxmal hemerus, the most common form of bone cancer.

In a few months the arm had completely gone numb, then gradually shriveled. It had to be amputated before the cancer cells could spread to the lungs.

"It's stage 2, and usually by that stage, 60- 80 percent of the patients survive," says orthopedic surgeon Elvin Panliboton, who performed the 2 1/2-hour operation on Michael at the Philippine Orthopedic Center last July.

A fifth grader at the Maragondon Elementary School, Michael had to stop schooling. It is just fortunate for him that only his nondominant extremity, the left arm, has been affected, because then, though it would be difficult for him to do some basketball or swimming, he still can play a little billiards.

Mood swings

The granting of these children's deepest wishes in no small way helps in the process of physical and psychic integration. It may not be a cure, but the power of a wish can hardly be underestimated. It creates hope, strength, inspiration, which may lead to healing.

Michael had a wish: to see the Banaue Rice Terraces. On Aug. 30 -- through the concerted efforts of the Department of Tourism, Philippine Orthopedic Center-Kythe, Make-a-Wish Philippines and the Ayala Corporation -- the wish was granted.

At around 10 that Friday morning, a helicopter provided by Jaime Augusto Zobel de Ayala made a round of the mountaintops of Ifugao, and slowly descended on a small helipad a walking distance above Banaue Hotel. From the chopper emerged Michael and his family, Panliboton, Kythe caregiver Evelyn Muniz, and Eduardo Santos, International Director.

Michael had just had his fifth chemotherapy cycle. The first three cycles were handled by the family, and the last two by sponsors. A cycle would cost an average of P10,000 at the Philippine Orthopedic Center. Michael's mother, Nancy, has a small eatery in Maragondon, while father Orlando is a jeepney driver, earning barely enough to sustain the daily basic needs of a family of six.

Michael had now gone bald from the chemotherapy, and he was wearing a baseball cap and loose outfit. He was a healthy-looking boy, even chubby, but hardly smiling.

His mother said he had been going through mood swings lately, occasional tantrums, and would malinger. Often his three elder siblings had to put up with him. His morale was low, especially after the amputation.

A few questions

At the entrance of Banaue Hotel, the group was welcomed by Ifugao Gov. Teodoro Bagilat and hotel resident manager Cerilina Chan. At lunch, the boy was quite attentive as the governor told him the story of the rice terraces, the construction of their mud-and-stone foundation over 2,000 years ago, the ancient irrigation system, even the rice wine-making of the Ifugaos.

A few questions were on everybody's mind: Why the Banaue Rice Terraces? Why not New Zealand, for example, which has much taller, more precipitous peaks-a virtual Middle Earth? And why this particular wish? Why not meet billiard wizard Efren "Bata" Reyes and have a round at the table?

The boy said he had wanted to see this world wonder since he was small. And how did he know about it? "I would read them in books," he replied in a low, shy voice.

It seemed he saw photographs of it and other beauty spots of the country like the Chocolate Hills in a Social Studies textbook when he was in Grade 2. His fascination had not diminished since, and he was constantly reminded since his hospital was located on Banawe Avenue in Quezon City.

And how much does he know about these terraces? "Na ito po ay hagdan-hagdang palayan," the boy quietly replied. "At ito po ay ginawa ng mga katutubo."

(And, we should add, a DOT campaign is pushing it as the greatest of the wonders of the ancient world since it is the only one not built by slaves.)

People from Make-a-Wish consider Michael's wish unique because, while children his age would have wanted to go to Disneyland or meet their idols, his was to see the greatest agricultural achievement in human history.

"Every wish-granting is unique," says foundation president Philip Pastoral. "Every child has a different story. The common denominator is their innocence and simple view of life."

Efforts are made to include the immediate family in the wish. If the child is meeting with a celebrity, the two are given ample time to be together by themselves, at least 5-10 minutes of private time.

"The concept is: Let the family let down its guard," says Pastoral. "Just relax. Because at other times the family members cannot concentrate on their work, on their jobs. Because they're distracted by the disease, or the caregiving takes up their time."

Private moments

For this trip, Make-a-Wish Philippines acknowledges the support of DOT Undersecretary Oscar Palabyab and DOT-Cordillera Autonomous Region head Purificacion Molintas; the Philippine Tourism Authority general manager Nixon Kua, Banaue Hotel's sales-marketing head Gae Mocas, and Chan; and Leona Nepomuceno of the DOT Office of Media Affairs.

"We try to grant the most ardent wish," says wish-grant director Monchot Ongsiako. "And one of our slogans is: 'This is the day we all got to forget I am sick.'"

Michael and his family were given ample private moments to enjoy the scenery and imbibe the culture. Tour of the rice terraces was scheduled every afternoon, and Michael beheld them from various viewpoints.

He also did some shopping at the town's trade center, and got a collection of ethnic beads, from necklaces to bracelets. He soaked in the indigenous culture in the Banaue Museum and, during the cultural show at the hotel lobby, where, for the first time, we saw him smile broadly, as he watched the antics of Ongsiako during the free-for-all dancing.

Toward midnight, at the poolside, while his adult companions were boozing nearby, he dipped his feet in the pool's chilly water and created ripples. The following day, in the morning and then again in the afternoon, he was gamboling with his brothers and sister in the swimming pool.

At night, he spent a few hours in the hotel's billiard hall, where, with just one arm, he beat some tough guys at a few rounds of pool, with his teeth holding in place the loose sleeve of his shirt where the other arm had been.

On Sunday, in the heat and glare and through zigzagging roads, Michael Piedad and his family traveled for eight hours by van back to Metro Manila. He was going directly to the hospital for medical observation prior to his sixth chemotherapy sometime this month. Also, he was into some last-minute preparation for his First Holy Communion.