Oh Maykoy, my Maykoy
My Mama. Nanay ko. Maykoy. More than 26 years ago, one jovial day in June on my mother’s birthday, I started to blend words for terms of endearment for my dearest Mama Thelma—My Mama, Nanay ko, Inay ko—Maykoy! My siblings instantly fell in love with it! Mama just laughed at it, dismissing it as one of my shenanigans. A week or two later, she disclosed to me that everyone in our family, our relatives, friends, and neighbors all call her by her “new” name, and this might serve as a reason for people to forget her real name.
I assured her that this will not be the case, and that folks simply appreciate the uniqueness and authenticity of this portmanteau. Maykoy was a nurse during Ferdinand Marcos Sr.’s presidency and was then stationed at the Malacañang Clinic (now referred to as the Presidential Security Group (PSG) Station Hospital). This clinic was then located within the Malacañang Park complex situated across the Pasig River from the main Palace and accessible via the Nagtahan Bridge (now the Mabini Bridge) or by boat. Maykoy was an astute, knowledgeable, and reputable nurse of the late president, his family, the Malacañang staff, and frontline PSG soldiers until the later years when Marcos Sr.s’ health declined, and his regime eventually ended.
For 14 years or so, Maykoy was the dutiful nurse with a balance of core character virtues and professional competence. She practiced genuine empathy and compassion. She had a strong work ethic characterized by being self-motivated, proactive, and going the extra mile for her patients’ well-being. She maintained a calm, composed demeanor during high-stress situations (like assisting in emergency operations on battle-battered, limb-mangled PSG soldiers) or when dealing with difficult (and hysterical) patients and families. She recognized her own limitations, acknowledged her flaws, and remained open to feedback for continuous growth. When she brought two green-colored gowns (scrubs) with her, we all knew she would be assisting in some form of emergency operation. For us—Jaime, Joel, Judith, Jerome, and Jeffrey—she was our Florence Nightingale*—in neat white cap, gown, and shoes.
After celebrating Maykoy’s 78th birthday in 2024, she complained of chest pain and difficulty in breathing while in the supine position (i.e., lying horizontally on the back with the face and torso facing upward). Moreover, she requested inclined-bed therapy, raising her body to create a slope of about 30 degrees. As a nurse, she knew that this position uses gravity to improve her breathing. Maykoy was initially diagnosed with pleurisy, inflammation of the lung lining (pleura) with fluid accumulation. This caused her sharp chest pain that worsened with breathing. For about nine months, pulmonologists from a myriad of hospitals treated Maykoy’s pleurisy with strong antibiotics and other anti-inflammatory drugs. When her weight drastically declined, we moved her to a bigger and more reputable hospital. She underwent thoracentesis—a medical procedure to remove excess water from the pleural space. Within a day, Maykoy was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. Her heart was only working at about 20 percent of its capacity. Specialized doctors recommended heart surgery. Our family agreed. Sadly, our Maykoy’s fragile and feeble body could not take any more intervention. In the early morning of March 29, 2025, my dearest Maykoy breathed her last. My world shattered. My heart broke into a trillion billion million pieces. I transformed into the saddest version of myself. Grief became my constant and unpredictable companion.
Exactly one year after March 29, 2025, is Sunday, March 29, 2026. Neither 2025 nor 2026 is a leap year, so the year consists of exactly 365 days. Maykoy’s first death anniversary this Sunday, March 29, 2026, falls on a Palm Sunday. It is truly an amazing grace of entanglement. For me, this deeply symbolic “coincidence” is genuinely inspiring as it blends personal bereavement with our communal spiritual themes of victory, peace, and eternal life. Palm Sunday celebrates the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, which eventually marks the beginning of Holy Week, a time of deep reflection on suffering, death, and eventual renewal. Coinciding with Maykoy’s first death anniversary reflects the natural cycle of grief—moving from the triumph of her life, through the passion of our bereavement, toward a sense of hope and a new beginning. This alignment is a reminder that God, the Supreme Physicist, is present in both joy and sorrow. As the world pauses to reflect on life and sacrifice, I do the same for my Maykoy. Itushkofirshhtt, Maykoy, tushkofirshhtt! I love you, Maykoy, forever!
*Florence Nightingale (1820-1910) was a British nurse, social reformer, and statistician regarded as the founder of modern nursing. She revolutionized health care by introducing rigorous sanitation standards and professional training.
—————-
Dr. Joel Tiu Maquiling may be reached at jmaquiling@ateneo.edu
