Science or Faith: When my body falls apart, where do I lean in?
First, I am a woman of Science.
My staff told me I was mumbling “Mama” as I fought hard for my life on the hospital bed.
My mom and I would always argue about science and her faith among other things. And I always end up saying “Let’s agree to disagree!” so everyone will have peace. It’s not that I don’t believe in higher power, but for the most part of growing up, I was taught to seek evidence first.
Few days after getting discharged from the hospital, I finally had the strength to call her and say I’m more than ok! I told her with pride that I got saved by science. I got the right medications at the right time, good doctor, strong heart & brain from doing a lot of surfing and running, and healthy liver & lungs because I rarely drink nor smoke.
The doctor who saved me in St. Paul Hospital (Dr, Fuertes) confirmed that if those organs were already damaged, I could have died easily.
My mom responded with conviction, “Alam mo kung anong nagsave sayo? Yung dasal namin.” [You know what really saved you? Our prayers and faith!”.] At that moment, I felt like she was dismissing the work I’ve done for thirty five years, taking care of my body. And it really annoyed me.
People filled me in with their own stories and the first thing they told me is that they prayed because there’s nothing else they can do. There was an overwhelming number of people who had reached out to God/Creator/Higher Being on my behalf during those three days between life and death. Each person expressed their faith differently—through whispered prayers, novenas, church services, silent tears, or quiet conversations with God.
Sinag staff was apparently crying and praying together for three days. Ate Nancy & Evelyn (the housekeepers) would stop by the catholic church in General Luna. Island friends talked to their own churches to pray for me regardless of religion or belief, and passed it on to their families. Mothers of friends who offered their prayers through rosaries or novena, most of them I haven’t met yet . My mom sending countless of messages to all our relatives to pray for me until I woke up. And some friends who don’t believe in Jesus or God just thought it would be nice if I’d make it through- - and strongly believed I would.
I woke up after three days from what felt like an hour-long, vivid dream. You know when people say dead people saw the light before dying? I actually did.
In this dream, I found myself looking at a crystal-clear ocean, watching the light from sunrise scatter and dance in the water. I remembered feeling so much peace, just before I opened my eyes and realized I am in the hospital.
On my first check-up back to my doctor in Surigao, few weeks after getting discharged, he greeted me “Hello, Miracle Girl!” as I entered his clinic. I was still groggy (mostly from my meds) and confused about what happened. All I know is I want answers!
I thought a man of logic could explain better how I survived this whole ordeal because of science. And I can’t wait to get back to my mom to tell her… “I told you so…”
He started with this- - a blood acidity pH of 6.6 is no longer compatible with life. He admitted that he wasn’t quite sure back then whether I’d live or die just basing it off on the initial ABG (Arterial Blood Gas) results. But when he saw me (lying there), he believed I will live.
I was dead according to science.
At this point, I was already sobbing. I guess from all the restlessness and medicine both overwhelming me at the same time.
He praised how strong my will is to live which I doubt because I was mostly sleeping. But also, how inquisitive I am in asking questions so he cleared me from neurological damage from Severe DKA (Diabetic Ketoacidosis).
Diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA) is a medical emergency that occurs when the body runs out of insulin. Unable to use sugar for energy, it begins burning fat instead, producing acids called ketones. When too many ketones build up, the blood becomes dangerously acidic, and the body starts to shut down.
I wanted a recognition that my organs and mindset were prepared to keep me alive (that’s my ego)
while he never once mentioned about how skilled he was as an endocrinologist or about the hospital's advanced facilities.
Before leaving, I thanked him for saving my life.
And he gave me an answer I wasn’t expecting—
“I wish I was the one who saved you, but it’s God. I’m just a tool.”
Science does not deny faith.
If I had heard those words under different circumstances, I probably would have cringed.
But instead, I walked away with a quiet question in my head, “Who actually decides who lives or dies?”
Over the following weeks, I immersed myself in learning everything I could about my condition. I spoke with nutritionists, physicians, and trusted healthcare professionals to understand what had happened to my body, how diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA) develops, what recovery would look like, and what is next after an autoimmune diabetes diagnosis.
I wanted answers. And science gave me many of them. That kept me busy and worried, and… restless.
I braced myself for a long battle ahead.
For almost a month, I have never slept a single wink during night time. For the first time in my life, I have experienced panic attacks— heart-pounding and gut-wrenching that won’t stop for minutes. I was prescribed with a medicine called Quetiapine in case I don’t “overcome” it.
Quetiapine is a medication that helps regulate brain chemicals involved in mood, thinking, and sleep. Although it's mainly prescribed for conditions like bipolar disorder and schizophrenia, doctors sometimes use low doses to help people struggling with severe anxiety or insomnia.
Because of the fear that it will develop to PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder), I reached out to my trusted mentor from NLP Manila, Sir Noel Silan, a psychologist & psychotherapist, to properly process what I’ve been going through.
I knew something had changed in my body. I knew what I was carrying. I had spent years coaching people through difficult seasons and understood many of the tools that help us cope with pain and uncertainty. But even with all that knowledge and experience, the heaviness didn’t go away.
I know this sounds extra crazy but I began noticing what felt like perfect timing everywhere. The right words would find me exactly when I needed them- mostly from books and people. The right people would appear at just the right moment. I would be in the right place where I needed to be. It was strange and surreal to say the least.
At the time, I was also experiencing episodes of derealization—a well-documented phenomenon that can happen after severe trauma or critical illness. Everything felt like a dream. I ended up questioning my own reality and whether I actually exist.
Derealization happens when the brain becomes overwhelmed. To protect itself, it temporarily makes the world feel distant or dreamlike, giving your mind a chance to recover from intense stress or trauma.
But there was something else I couldn't explain.
Whether it was coincidence, heightened awareness, or something deeper, I found myself seeing or feeling God in ordinary moments.
And that frightened me almost as much as it comforted me.
So I knew I had to seek help. Yes… I still sought science.
As we reflected on everything that had happened, Sir Noel quietly put into words what I had been denying and struggling to make sense of myself.
"You're starting your spiritual journey. So why hurry?"
As it turns out, I was comforted by the fact that Sir Noel was the perfect human to guide me on this process as he experienced heart surgeries that brought him closer to death. But also, closer to the spirit, recognizing that there is something beyond us that govern the universe.
Two of the people whose opinion I value —both men of science, my doctor and Sir Noel—reminded me of something I had overlooked: science does not deny faith.
If anything, the deeper they understood the human body, the more room they seemed to make for wonder, humility, and the possibility that some things can not be explained by knowledge alone.
Knowing doesn’t make the pain go away.
Believing that pain is temporary has a different effect.
Faith does not deny science.
My thirst for answers only grew bigger and I gave in to the curiousity of solving this puzzle.
I enrolled in an Applied Neuroscience bootcamp led by a neuroscientist from Standford, hoping to better understand how autoimmune diseases affect the brain and my nervous system. I was so excited to nerd out but it only affirmed a truth I had only begun to discover: healing is not solely a matter of science. It is not just facts.
During one discussion on memory, I asked my professor what she thought had happened to my brain. I couldn't remember anything from the three days I spent in the ICU! Even though I had been responsive, I was completely unaware and completely forgot everything.
Her response surprised and somewhat disappointed me.
… "I don't know."
She walked me briefly through several possible explanations before concluding that even the world's leading neuroscientists still don't fully understand the human brain.
I stopped myself from judging her, reminding myself that expertise doesn’t come from knowing it all. They weren't a sign of ignorance. They were an honest acknowledgment of the limits of human knowledge. Hearing those three words humbled me knowing that it came from someone whose life's work was to study the brain. What do I know better?
From that day on, every time an image of the brain appeared on the screen as she explains how its countless regions worked together in astonishing harmony, I found myself feeling overwhelmed but also in awe of how God designed the brain so… beautifully.
It was a long process, but in honor of the synapses and neurons that fired together in harmony to change the way I think, I knew something in my brain switched.
During my recovery, my mom flew to Siargao to take care of me and spend holidays on the island. One morning, to her surprise, I asked if I can pray out loud with her and for her. She just cried and listened. She didn’t judge how I prayed.
The words were not perfect but it came naturally, as though they had always been there, waiting to be spoken.
I couldn’t remember the exact words but it was a prayer of full surrender, which didn’t make sense to me before something happened. It was a declaration that my life doesn’t belong to me anymore, which made my mom bawl hard. In fact, she didn’t talk to me for half a day.
I’m sure she once prayed that I’d be closer to God. But maybe not this close (haha) to confidently talk about death.
I told her that every time I revisit my story, I was certain that every little detail of that day were orchestrated so I can live.
In that moment, I thought, how cool it is to find my way back—to pray for people I love which I have never done before, but also to feel a deeper sense of connection to life.
It took almost a tragedy, but even that made me realize my mom and I were never really on opposing sides. We had simply been trying to love each other from different perspective.
My mom would often tease me, "Don’t be too smart." But science empowered me to take control of my health. Knowing brought me comfort because, for most of my life, I had relied on knowledge to survive.
She, on the other hand, never had the opportunity to get higher studies. Instead, she leaned on something I didn't fully understand at the time—an unwavering faith. And now, I became her answered prayer.
Between the two of us, I now believed she’s the wiser one.
When I was physically limited to move myself, I relied heavily on every single thing outside of my control- prayers, thoughts, timing, my doctors, community, and the quiet belief that I can make it.
In the middle of finding the reason as to why it all happened, science pushes me to find the edge while faith taught me to let it go.
And you know what I actually found? Quiet Reassurance.
From knowing I can’t know it all, I finally found my peace even if I don’t have all the answers.
Because as I learned from my mom: When knowing ends, one can only have faith.
I almost died arriving at this new-found wisdom, but in the words of the doctor who saved me,
“It’s the best experience that came out of it.”
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The Joy of Not Figuring Everything Out Alone is a memoir about finding healing through science, community, and faith after surviving a life-changing health crisis. More than a story about diabetes, it's an invitation to discover hope, resilience, and the courage to move forward—without having to figure everything out alone.
