Funny, I’m the new Harry Potter

Meet the Wizard at 69

Did I meet an accident yester-day? No, I met a closed, clean glass door at The Mall of Asia near Manila Bay.

I became the new Harry Potter yesterday, 11 January, at Racks behind The Mall of Asia. Now I have my own scar on my forehead, above the right eyebrow. Looking at it this morning, ‘It’s not discernible,’ says my wife. What did she mean; did she want the scar bigger?

My scar is courtesy of Racks. I mean, it happened there. Mine is an inverted L. L stands for Low Intensity Conflict – I bumped my head onto an immovable object. I believe it was a glass door. I know I have charm; now I know I'm not an irresistible force.

It was early evening; my family and I were eating and our table outside Racks was facing West, the great Manila Bay and the great sky. Did I see stars? I didn’t even see the glass door.

We were celebrating the baptism of my first grandson, Sean Ryker Hilario, of Jomar & Clarisse Conanan. My wife Ampy, daughters Jinny, Daphne, Neenah, Ela, sons July & Edwin; my daughter Teresa with husband Toto Ilowa and daughter SamKat Atendido Ninang of Sean and his yaya Miera were all there. The party was going well until I stood up and in an instant became a celebrity. I mean, Harry Potter.

In fact, first I bumped my left knee on that glass door at Rack’s. Hard, very hard – it was very painful. Now I can tell you the difference between a rock and a hard place.

Not the bleeding wound on my forehead, but that knee was really killing me.

My whole family was agitated. Then somebody put ice on the forehead and that knee. So I got the cold treatment twice last night.

When my knee hit the closed, clean glass door, the pain registered and my body bent forward as automatic response – and that’s when my head also hit the closed, clean glass door. Now I know what ‘adding insult to injury’ means.

I was going inside Racks for my last CR. I thank God it wasn’t for my last ER.

I was thinking logically, so I was fine. My wife tested me and asked, ‘How many is this?’ I said ‘3.’ My wife said that proved I was dazed or something. (I wasn’t looking. I asked her this morning and she said she was showing only 1 finger. She knew I was joking.)

They wanted to get me to a hospital for checkup. I said what for? For X-ray. What for? If they found something wrong with my head, X-ray was the last thing that could help me. But they insisted. It shows that cold logic can get you nowhere.

They insisted I be taken to the hospital, for checkup, they including Lea of Racks. I told them it wasn’t necessary; I did feel fine, even if my knee didn’t. I didn’t tell them I should have my head examined for trying to smash my way into a closed, clean glass door.

They were insistent I be taken to the nearest hospital. Why, they thought I wouldn’t make it if the hospital wasn’t the nearest?

So we went to the hospital. I mean, they took me to the hospital, not against my will but against my logic.

The 1st doctor examined the wound on my head and said, ‘Wala naman.’ Nothing. No brainer. He didn’t see the brains behind the wound behind the forehead? Then he left for another patient. I waited kindly. I was patient myself this time.

I didn't want the X-rays taken. They couldn't convince me. Finally, I convinced myself.

Actually, the fellow at the X-ray took 4 shots of my body parts. Muscled fellow. I was more afraid of the X-ray machine than of him. I never liked X-ray machines.

He shot my forehead twice, front and right. The X-ray machine made a grunt, but no harm came. Thank God; I had done enough harm on myself already.

He shot my left knee twice, front and right. The X-ray machine made the same grunt, and I made the same observation: If you don’t want to see the X-ray machine man, don’t bump your left knee and your right forehead onto a closed, clean glass door.

‘Give me 5 minutes to read,’ the X-ray man said. He meant to interpret the X-ray films. It took him 25 minutes. I know, some people can’t read well, or fast.

That was the San Juan De Dios Hospital. The Emergency Ward was busy, too busy. Not the doctors’ fault – why did the emergency cases have to show up when they were short of doctors? Why did I bump my knee and forehead onto a closed, clean glass door?

They were short of doctors, not emergency cases. After what seemed like eternity, a 2nd doctor came up to me and said, ‘OK naman po ang X-ray.’ The X-ray is OK, Sir. Honest? The doctor looked honest enough. I was asking Lea (of Racks) and July (my son), what the doctor was really telling me. They didn’t get the joke. I said, ‘The doctor was telling me the X-ray is OK. I don’t know about the patient.’

I repeat: Talking about my head, the doctor said, ‘OK naman po ang X-ray.’ The X-ray is OK, Sir. That was better! I noted he didn’t say it in the negative, ‘Wala po kaming nakita.’ We found nothing. Often, the negative is negative.

I told Lea and July one of the great jokes about surgeons. ‘The operation was a success. Unfortunately, the patient died.’

For my wounded forehead and wounded pride, we stayed there for 2 hours or more. Should I thank San Juan De Dios for not minding me much, since that meant I wasn’t really an emergency case?

The 3rd doctor asked, 'The glass door didn't have a sign, right?' No, left door. But you're asking the right person!

At 69, I must have grown up. Waiting for 2 hours at the hospital, I didn’t lose my cool. I didn’t lose the pain on my knee either.

At home, I applied the hot compress – actually a handkerchief warmed by the electric iron. It worked. It shows that a little warmth is good for bruised knees and bruised pride.

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