Quila’s eyes were filled with tears. Her father suddenly could not breathe, and they had to bring him to the hospital. She and her family were so worried that he would not be able to pull through this time. He was in the ICU, with a ventilator tube inserted in his mouth down to his throat to help him breathe. He was closely monitored by the nurses and doctors, as well as resident physicians.
“You all can go home, mga anak. I’ll watch your father.” Their mother told them when they all calmed down.
“But, Ma—” Quila started to protest.
“You, Tequila, don’t argue with me.” Her mother cut her off with a scolding but gentle tone. “You’ve been working so hard all this time—your graveyard shift, the winery and your band. You need to have a good rest. Your father is very concerned about your hea
