A Tribute to a Beloved Baby Sister

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Hannie’s registration name at birth was Hannah. Mama took it from the story in the Bible in the first chapter of the book of Samuel. Mama was fascinated by the story of a woman, named Hannah, who had no child and prayed in the temple for one. She made a deal with the Lord that if he grants her a child, she would dedicate the child to the Lord for the rest of his life. The Lord answered her prayer and she bore a son, she named Samuel, whom she dedicated to the temple to fulfill her vow.

Hannie was a love child resulting after Papa and Mama reconciled from a marital fight that split them up for over a year. Mama being so creative in making nicknames called her Hannie-vieve for Baby Hannie. We grew up calling her either Hannie-vieve, Hannie, Baby, or Bebs for short.

When Mama enrolled her in the first grade at five years old, Mama registered her as Hannie because she protested when the teacher asked Mama what the name of her girl was and Mama answered, “Hannah.” Hannie pulled Mama’s skirt and said, “Ma, just tell her Hannie. I like it better.”

I loved to tease her just to make her cry. Papa used to yell at me every time she gets upset over my teasing. The smart and sassy little brat would make her sobs louder when she found out that she got sympathy from Papa and I can get in trouble. Then, I tremble and crawl under the bed or hide behind the door. That did not stop me though. I’d do it when Papa wasn’t around. I must have been so mean then. But one thing I knew, Hannie was my baby. I took her anywhere I went. I was proud to have her tag along because everybody said she was so cute. In fact, when I was a teen-ager and boys started to show interest in hanging out with me, Mama made sure that Hannie was my chaperone.
“Go with her. Keep an eye on her. Don’t let her out of your sight,” Mama would instruct her and she did a good job too.

Growing up, Hannie was pampered, had all the attention, and was the life of the party. She sang, she danced, and she recited poems. It was easy to bribe her in order to make her perform. A nickel or a piece of candy would do it all the time.

At first, I attended Southern Capital Colleges in Oroquieta, Misamis Occidental. Two years later, I ventured out and found a job in Cagayan de Oro to finance my college aspirations. Around this time, she was ready for college too. With Papa and Mama having financial difficulty in supporting college expenses, I shouldered both hers and mine with my meager income as Secretary to Virgilio V. Neri at Macajalar Port Service.

Then the big breakthrough came in 1973 when my pen pal, George H. Day, came, kissed me and swept me away all the way to Waterbury Connecticut.

George always tells the story of how little sister tagged along during our honeymoon. He makes a big joke out of it during our family get-togethers. Fortunately, he was very tolerant of a 19-year-old girl as company. When we finally had to leave the Islands, Hannie would not look him in the eye. George understood. With a tender kiss he whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry, little sister. You’ll be with us in the USA in no time at all, I promise.”

I left Hannie behind to pursue her academic aspirations at Xavier University in Cagayan de Oro City. The following year, she decided to transfer to Southwestern University in Cebu City. I shouldered all her financial obligations as promised. I landed a job with Traveler’s Insurance as a flexo-writer operator in Waterbury Connecticut and was able to continue sending her money for school. But when I realized I had a second pregnancy, I was concerned that having two babies would be a burden and interfere with my employment. Coupled with this concern, George was not welcoming another baby. So, I gave in to my husband’s pressure to abort. It was not only because he wanted it; it was more a “blood sacrifice” for me in order to see Hannie graduate.

Sometime in 1978 she decided to marry because she was tired of waiting to join me. The marriage produced a baby girl, Krisma-Amor on January 5, 1980. My financial obligations toward her stopped but I sent money whenever I could to help out the family.

It took eleven years for Hannie to finally follow. At this time, George and I have relocated to Oceanside, California. In May, 1984, a week before I gave birth to my youngest daughter, Gemma, Hannie arrived. What a joyful day that was.

The next thirty-one years had been filled with a myriad of turning points that had transported Hannie’s lifestyle in unimaginable proportions: from her simple but comfortable beginnings in Cebu City, raising her daughter Krisma; to a working single Mom in Oceanside; to a happily married wife of Jim DesPortes in 1989 and welcoming the birth of Sherwin in 1990; to acquiring ownership of Mitchell Instruments in San Marcos in 1995 – the transformation was beyond belief. She had no want for material things. She was a channel of blessing to her extended family in the Philippines;to the local church and missions of her choice. It was truly the fulfillment of an “American dream” that only a few are able to attain.

In October 2014, Hannie and Jim decided to move to Miramar Beach, Florida for business considerations. The exorbitant taxes in California prompted businesses to move out and seek tax shelter in business conducive and friendly States. Jim found his dream house and grabbed it for a little over a million dollars. They kept and maintained their house in Oceanside and flew in periodically. The goal was to move the business to Florida, ultimately.

Hannie and I maintained our close communications after their move to Miramar Beach. We chatted and texted each other to keep abreast with goings-on with our children and extended families.

A revealing chat between Hannie and I was in April of 2015. She complained of terrific recurring headaches and she hadn’t slept for four nights in a row. That night she landed at the ER. The following day she told me that the tests and CT scan had normal results. I was concerned that she would not be able to fly the next day but said she’ll be fine with Tylenol. I picked her up and she seemed to be okay. Jim followed a few days later and they proceeded to Hawaii for their twenty-seventh wedding anniversary. They only stayed in California for a week because they could not leave the business unattended for so long.

She was back a couple more times which was in July and then in September. All along she made mention of abdominal pains that she blamed on indigestion and took Zantac for it. She also took Ibuprofen for her migraine headaches.

In October, Jim took her to the ER again for the same complaint. The tests and CT scan did not show anything unusual or something to worry about still. So, she lived with her headaches and abdominal pains with band-aid medication of Ibuprofen and Zantac.

On December 4, Hannie was supposed to fly here again. She wanted to attend the MCCS Christmas Party on the 5th. She didn’t make it because two days prior, Jim took her to ER for the third time. This time, the doctors decided to keep her in order to get to the bottom of her ailment.

To make a long story short, Hannie was diagnosed with carcinomatosis of unknown origin in early December, 2015. She was subjected to a laparoscopy initially; then, an exploratory surgery removing her ovaries, her uterus, her appendix, and cutting out her large intestines on December 18. A week later, doctors noticed perforation in the wound with fecal matter leaking from it. Two weeks after her traumatic and invasive debulking surgery, she was declared terminal and turned over to Hospice Care. On Jan 3, 2016, she came home, hoping to recuperate and eventually heal despite physician’s pronouncement of death two to three days after antibiotics were withdrawn from her.

With the family and friends abiding faith in God, who nursed Hannie tenderly back to health, she slowly regained strength and was able to ambulate. What a refreshing breath to take seeing her walk in baby steps with the aid of a walker and being engaged in social graces.

Because of the miraculous improvement, she pursued aggressive treatment and terminated Hospice Care. She went back to Sacred Heart Hospital for follow-up. At that point, there was not much encouragement from the physicians handling her case. In fact, she was discouraged from going to MD Anderson Cancer Care in Houston Texas. They wanted to do a second operation to correct the damage done. She refused and decided to go to MD Anderson with or without the doctor’s blessing.

Hannie was admitted to MD Anderson without any hitches. She was immediately seen by specialists in the field of oncology. Battery of tests was done but more aggressive procedures and biopsy couldn’t be pursued because of her frail condition. She needed to regain more strength to be able to handle invasive tests. Dr. Kee, handling her primary care, stated flatly that Sacred Heart Hospital did the wrong thing by opening her up. It was the wrong course of action to take. The damage has been done and it was irreversible. They wanted to do more but because of her frail condition, it was too risky to put her through it again.

With MD Anderson specialists throwing in the towel after three weeks of close monitor, Hannie’s only option was to come home. Home was Oceanside. She was hoping against hope that she still has a fighting chance to beat this deadly monster that’s eating her insides up, leaving her with only skin and bones. But, if it had to be, then, she wanted to live her remaining days in Oceanside and wished to be interred at the family plot at Eternal Hills Memorial Park where Papa has peacefully rested since Nov. 10, 2006 and where cousin, Floyd, has rested since July 30, 1995 nearby, as well.

To this end, Hannie was airlifted by Angel Flight from Houston, Texas to San Diego, California on April 18. Hospice of the North Coast in Carlsbad took over her care and kept her for a couple of days before releasing her to her family and home in Oceanside. She was happy to get back to California alive but this happiness was short-lived when Hospice did not fill her request for IV and TPN to sustain her.

“Before we left MD Anderson, we were told that IV and TPN will be resumed once Hannie gets here. How is she getting her nutrition and recover without them?” Jim said.
         “She is on a clear liquid diet per doctor’s order,” the nurse pointed out.

It was obvious right from the start that Hospice was giving Hannie the bare minimum care. Supplies were rationed and placed in zip-lock containers. This lead Hannie to exclaim,
“Why am I treated as if I’m an indigent? Our company pays a lot of money for our health insurance.”
“We treat you all the same. Your insurance adopts the policy guidelines Medicare approves,” the nurse answered.
It was a lose-lose argument. The only winner was that monster called, “carcinomatosis.”

Downhill it went from there. I did not see that fighting spirit in her eyes any longer. Arriving home after the release, the attending Hospice Nurse was trying to get her situated. She did not have the proper supplies to use for Hannie’s needs. She was just making do with whatever she could get her hands on. She was ill-equipped to handle Hannie’s wounds and hook-ups. Hannie pointed that out to the nurse right away. She had to leave and come back with the proper medical supply.
“Why are you back?” Hannie said to her.
“I had to fix your unhappiness and make you happy,” she said. Forcing a smile, she added, “You taught me something new today, dear.”

Being by her bedside the last three weeks of her life taught me the real value of being alive and healthy. It was a gratifying three weeks to be able to prepare juices and feed her; to encourage her to fight for her survival; to massage her back, arms, legs and feet with frankincense oil; to sing to her and pray with her; to kiss her and tell her how much I love her. When she was unable to talk coherently anymore and her whispers were inaudible, she responded by scratching the back of my hand three times as I held it.

At 9:40AM on April 26, Hannie grasped for her last breath surrounded by Jim, Sherwin, Mama, Dodong, Faith, Mary Jane, Espie and me. Dodong read a passage of Scripture found in Romans 8:35-39 which reads in part, "For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
Jim prayed; and, the Lord led me to sing, “Spirit of the Living God, Fall Fresh on me.”

Our dearly beloved Hannie finally gave up the ghost. One by one everybody quietly left the room. I stayed and pulled her blanket to cover her up to her neckline.

“Be, I know you can still hear me. I’m here. I’m not leaving you alone because I know you don’t like to be alone. But I do need to pick up Ningning from the airport in a little bit. So I’ll leave you when someone can take my place. ”

Forty-five minutes later, nephew Edmund walked in. I kissed her one more time and left her with him.