I’m not scared of dying. I’m scared of growing old.

And becoming weak and useless.

My grandma has been living with us for 3 years now and I’ve seen how little by little, she has grown so weak, deaf and forgetful. I watch as she struggles to go out of our car. She pees on her bedsheet. We need to shout just so she can hear what we have to say. She asks the same questions every minute. She forgets where she puts her things and sometimes accuses our maid of stealing her wallet when she forgets where she places it.

Today I saw her peed wearing my underwear.

A part of me wants to take care of her. But I can’t help being… disgusted. And my eyes can’t bear the sight of a sick old woman.

My parents always wanted me to be a nurse. But I said “no” to that a hundred times. How can I be a nurse when the sight of blood weakens my knees? How can I be a nurse when I couldn’t even take care of my mom when she’s sick? How can I be a nurse when I can’t even help my grandma stand up from her bed?

There’s just something about sick people that makes me… I don’t know… I don’t know what’s the right word for it.

I just don’t want to take care of them. The only thing I can do is pray for them.

Now I wonder, if I get old, will someone take good care of me?