A typical Sunday for me in my twenties was to take a shower, hear mass and spend the rest of the day with my family and friends. I always look forward to Sundays when my mom would cook special meals for us and when surprise visits from relatives or friends take place. But there was one Sunday that I can never forget. A surprise visit that I wish never came.
It was the most cruel Sunday visitor.
I woke up one Sunday morning in October with a headache. Not the throbbing kind that I would usually get when I’m at work or when I would have to beat so many deadlines in one day. It was a dull, steady pain that I couldn’t tell where it’s coming from. The day went by and the headache didn’t go away. When it was time to call it a night, as soon as I laid down the bed, it happened.