Daughter of the Light

Rest if you must, But don't you QUIT

2010-11-03T23:24:00.000+08:00

September 3, 2010

(DOCTOR)
Dean
College of Medicine – West Visayas State University

Thru: (DOCTOR)
Clinical Clerk Coordinator
West Visayas State University Medical Center

Dear Doctor,

I write to apply for a LEAVE OF ABSENCE, to rest, effective today, until December 31, 2010. May I also please ask for your permission to assume hospital duty by January 1, 2011 to make up for the remaining hours that I will not be able to serve during this Leave. Hopefully, I could complete all my requirements and graduate in April to begin PGI on May, 2011.

May I offer two reasons for this application:

1. Despite the many satisfactions and great learning in medical school and hospital training, my physical state of exhaustion is also exacting a toll on my general well-being. The problems of sleep deprivation and stress in 80 or more hours a week in the hospital, with duty-shifts of 24-36 hours, is leading me to a mechanical state and warped lifestyle that is no longer, me. Before it gets to be really problematic, I urgently need to sleep and rest for just a while. I need to gather re-newed energy again which I believe can be obtained from claiming some time and space for a break....to relax in a stress free situation.
“Rest if you must, but don’t you quit.”
(Don’t Quit)

2. It has been an exciting time. Much energy had been spent in learning the science of medicine these past 4 years. Perhaps, amidst “managing” patients and “surviving” hospital training culture, I miss out on “the art of healing” – the comforting or caring dimension of healing...the spiritual dimension of this profession. The focus on sharply defined physiological problems has trained me to control or ignore my natural reactions to commonly encountered scenarious in the ER, OR, Floors, ICU, NICU, etc. resulting to the capacity to remain cool, calm, and detached, no matter how desperate a crisis may be. Now, I experience that some deep part of me feels numbed. If I am to proceed with inner health, I need to return to my natural bearings of recovering my idealism and belief that healing has both physical and spiritual dimensions. I need to recover my original motive for helping the sick. My original vocational inspiration have been neglected, ravaged by the heat of training. I want to rediscover the root of my sacred vocation as a healer. For this, I need time for a Retreat. I would like to discern the spiritual impact of my experiences in medical training. I am sure to find God’s deep affirmation and broadening of my personal and professional life.

“it is not the nature of the task, but its consecration that is the vital thing”
(Martin Buber)

The desire to become a doctor is still definitely very strong. Please know that I gave time and stretched through this fatigue-state for some months, hoping it would just pass as a phase. However, it would not let up. I consulted many people and finally decided, with the support of my parents, to take the four-month leave. I look forward to a rejuvinated and animated come-back-to duty by January and resume my training with all its rigors and stressful conditions.

Thank you for your understanding and kind support.

Sincerely,

Socorro Marie – Eugenie C. Baga
Clinical Clerk

Conferred by:

Cynthia C. Baga Oscar T. Baga
(Mother) (Father)

Noted By:

(DOCTOR)
Office of Student Affairs
College of Medicine - WVSU

The Pathophysiology of Compassion Exhaustion and the Duality of Understanding as a Gift and Curse

2010-11-03T23:10:00.004+08:00

This is the case of a 25 year old clinical clerk undergoing clinical duty in a public hospital. Through a series of events, she decided to take a leave of absence with the reason of “Compassion Fatigue” 2 months prior to graduation. With no psychiatric cause or management provided for the leave, this move was considered both unorthodox and impractical by the medical community. However, they were given no choice as the clerk was clearly adamant that she needed to go on this leave.

The Complaints I never made

As a clinical clerk, there’s no denying the long working hours and that the lack of sleep is inevitable. We go On Duty from 7:30 am to 5 pm, have a 2 hour break for dinner and showers then come back from 7 pm to 5 am of the following day. Then, again followed by a two-hour break to shower, have breakfast and to prepare for endorsements or whatever things that were left un done for this next day – our From Duty day which goes from 7 am to 5 pm. The following day is our On Call day which again goes from 7:30 am to 5 pm.

However, it is not the long sleepless hours that get to us. It’s the constant nagging and comparison that nurses, residents and doctors tell us that we are blessed to have two-hour breaks in between our 24 -duty hours as opposed to previous years or what they call “their time” that there were no breaks given to clerks. This two hour break is also the source of great animosity when clerks cannot finish their assigned tasks. We often hear: “There’s no excuse for unfinished paperwork because you have two-hour breaks…” or “Good for you, you have two-hour breaks, during our time, we had none and we had to finish everything.”

Whenever I hear these things, I think about two things. First, from what I’ve seen so far from the two batches that I’ve had the pleasure of going on duty with was that the inability to finish paperwork or any other task came from the clerk’s innate capacity for hard work or the lack of it. No matter how long or how short the breaks are, if a clerk procrastinates or is lazy, paperwork and other tasks will still be left undone. This is the reason why some clerks end up with lesser demerits than others, because they are more hard working and have more time management skills compared to others. Moreover, whenever that issue of the two-hour break surfaces, I say to myself “Isn’t it time that the medical practice develop more humane working conditions? Then, why all the fuzz and clamor about wanting to be able to eat and shower?” For a long time, in a public hospital such as ours clerks and interns on duty would only eat for more than 12 hours and could not shower for more than 36 hours. If we belonged to another reality, we could easily file for labor suits, given that clerks and interns are also not compensated. In fact, clerks pay tuition to be trained in the hospital – and with that it is also part of the package of the training that we pay for are the conditions of seeing more patients, learning more, and not being able to eat or shower. Sometimes, because we are too engrossed with being heroes and being life savers that we forget basic human rights.

From the United States, to Europe and the Philippines, I am at awe with the silent war going on between nurses and doctors. I understand that the two professions work hand in hand in saving lives and alleviating dis-ease but why such hostility?

Perhaps because I do my clerkship in a hospital with a long list of traditions and practices that were tested through time, I have to face certain realities that were the product of history. For instance, it is common knowledge that once we enter the halls of our hospital, we become the lowest beings in the planet. We are subject to being shouted at by nurses, aids and janitors. They can do pretty much anything to us like make us monitor, give medication and clean up after our patients if they find themselves too busy combing their hair, talking on the phone or eating. I was even more shocked to know that the reason that why we can be shouted at and scolded publicly for no reason at all is because clerkship is the only time all the other people can do this to us. They say that if we become doctors, the tables will turn and we will be the ones to do those things to all the other people in the hospital. Now, where did this come from? Who started this war? Was it the doctors of old with enormous temper tantrums that led to the wrath of the nurses towards the clerks? Or was it inefficient nurses who warranted scolding from the doctors with enormous temper tantrums that led to the wrath of the nurses towards the clerks? It’s like the chicken and egg riddle, as to which one came first.

Moreover, it is not only the nurses, aids and janitors who seem to have the right to publicly humiliate us. They may have only followed the example of some power tripping residents and consultants.

For example, during bedside rounds, when asked about particular details about our history and physical exam of our patients and if we couldn’t answer, they’d tell us – “Is that all that you know? You reached this level without knowing that?!” In the eyes of our patients, we see apparent distrust toward us such that the next time we examine them and ask them, they become more hesitant and non-compliant because they perceive us as incompetent. As a result, we get scolded again because certain procedures or certain information will require the resident to actually go to the patient and for that particular resident to do it because the patient will no longer allow the clerk to do so.

Another reality about going on duty in a public hospital is the scarcity of resources. For trauma patients, we practice what is known as the Robinhood practice. Basically, it is stealing from the rich to give to the poor. Whenever there are patients who have more medicines, more plasters, more gloves, more resources, whatever is not used, we save them so that if there are emergency patients who have no money to buy these things, we can give them something, actually anything just to get them by. We are also confronted by the reality that despite our best efforts, there are still some patients who think they can come into the hospital and everything is free because they are sick and needy. It’s like when fathers and mothers complain that they have no money to buy medication and they get mad because the hospital cannot provide free medication when they are actually smokers and chronic alcoholics and that if only they had cut down on their vices, they will be able to buy the proper medicines for their children or the proper food and nutrition so that they won’t get sick.

Loneliness

These working conditions were bearable for me as I coursed through the first 6 months of clerkship. I admit it was also hard but because I had someone special to inspire and motivate me, to hold my hand and tell me everything was going to be alright, I pressed on with courage. It was during the preparations for graduation that I felt I was not just about to lose the love of my life, but the batch that I belonged to as well. My original classmates would be graduating while I was to remain for another 6 months. Knowing that a new batch would be joining us – the irregulars gave me much anxiety because first, I didn’t know them, second, I didn’t know how they worked and third, I had lost my dutymates – those people who knew the inner working of my heart, my frustrations and joys.

To make matters worse, the love of my life would be moving unto PGIship thousands of miles away. Only those in long distance relationships could comprehend the stress, the anxiety and the loneliness of such as relationship.

When they all left, I felt alone. It was a loneliness so deep I thought I was going into depression. It was a constant throbbing heartache not to see, hear and touch the one person that brought color and meaning to your life for the past 4 years. It was unbearable not to be able to receive a call or even a text for hours and hours not knowing what was going on with him. I counted three months of sleepless nights, shed tears and lost energy and vigor. I went from being much in love to being much hurt by his absence. It was a terrible shift from being alive to being dead.

Pride and Prejudice

To add insult to injury, the political atmosphere in the hospital didn’t help at all. A select few of the new clerks were making waves in influencing hospital policies that made a lot of people angry. PGIs especially, my former batchmates were beginning a raid of hostility and I soon got bored of going out with them hearing nothing but complaints about the new system and the new clerks. It was a batch thing that grew into so much more fueled by pride and prejudice and I was caught in the middle of it. Clerks were also now responding to some PGIs and the endless backbiting on both sides began. It got to point that I wanted friends that had nothing to do with medicine or the medical practice to avoid the brewing conflict.

The Duality of Understanding as Gift and Curse

With all the things going on, I never really ranted out how I felt about my state. I kept believing that I understood all the circumstances and that there were far better things to care about – up to the extent that I could not care for anything at all anymore.

I remembered saying to myself that all these things and realities that were happening around me were a product or a result of something. I tried to understand where the doctors were coming from when they compared the duty hours. That they belonged to a time and era where everything was much simplier, lesser distractions, fewer patient populations and more time to study and learn and it’s as if we, our generation in our utmost incompetence were the source of the highest anxiety and frustration where actually some of them were simply experiencing the crossroads of a midlife crisis or the bitterness of a questioning life story. I understand how doctors who are so severe grow up to be that way when the only life they ever knew was patients, medications, operations, medical conferences, trips abroad and making money and in the end still ask the questions like; “is this all there is to life?” Surely someone in that state would harbor some form of bitterness.

I also understood where the nurses were coming from. From generation to generation of clerks and doctors who have walked these halls, how many of those showed signs of thanks, gratitude and appreciation to them? Most of them worked there for more than 10 years and still, they are the ones carrying out the work and very little of them get promoted into being chief nurse.

Surely someone in that kind of state could have some form of frustration that is vented out at the object that represents all that frustration – the clerks. I also understand where our residents are coming from. I understood that those who liked to publicly humiliate us, were they themselves victim of a public humiliation or because it was how they were taught and forced to learn, in effect it is the only way they know how to teach as well. The tougher ones have a much deeper insecurity issue that had left their ego scarred that I theorize drove them into dehumanizing other so that they can feel superior even for just a while to compensate. But, that’s just me… I tend to understand and find reasons to sincerely accept that this harsh reality we are in is only the result and that people are also enslaved from where they are coming from and that their unconscious manifestations are the ones that hurt us.

I thought because I had the gift of understanding, the ability to let things go and to simply and sincerely accept people and situations as a result of an “unperfect world” that I already forgave years ago, I would be alright. I thought that understanding was a gift that I had and that because I recognized it, I was the one would adjust.

However, understanding the world and accepting all its imperfections was not only bold, it was also arrogant and impossible and this became my curse. I forgot that I was human too. I forgot that I also felt hurt whenever I was publicly criticized. I forgot that I too had needs like sleep and food. When I was bagging a premature infant who eventually succumb, I thought to myself that I had lost sleep, but this father had lost a son! – How understanding of me, how compassionate to understand the plight of the father! How arrogant of me to think such! I had become full of myself into thinking everything was alright!

From I Understand to I don’t Care

It was like a dark overwhelming power had seized me. I swung from a deep sense of compassion and understanding to a deep sense of not caring anymore because I eventually grew tired of caring. It is the classic STAR WARS metaphor for turning into the dark side. It is when I believed so much that I was cut out for this line of work that I began to lose myself in it, in its perks and the power that came along with it. I lost myself into thinking I could care so much for others and that I could neglect myself. Who am I to think such? I am no saint. I also lost myself into the daily grind of the work that I do – because I was “doctor”, this was a noble profession and I could get away with other stuff because of the reverence the MD suffix in the name could bring. It became a career instead of a vocation, a source of pride instead of a source of humility. I felt indestructible and that’s when I grew tired the most!

My growing apathy was hitting my hard in all directions. I lost the fervor of faith, in going to mass and seeking spiritual advice. It was taking a toll in my relationship with my boyfriend, sometimes making me lazy to text or call or nourishing the relationship which needed a lot because of the distance. I was distancing myself from true friends and engaging in drinking binges and other unhealthy activities. These coping mechanisms were a desperate attempt to recover what was true and good that was lost in the chilliness of indifference. I desired the fire and the passion to once again feel, but my medical work and training has had me using my head for so long I forgot how to feel.

Chronological Story of Reasons for waking up

In the morning of September 1, 2010 I woke up remembered the different reasons why I would get up in the morning to go for duty through the different months. At first in November up to February, I woke up for my patients, to do their daily progress checks, dress their wounds and check for bleeding, check for a fetal heartbeat. By March and April, I was waking up because my boyfriend was inspiring me, with all the things he had accomplish, finishing clerkship and getting his MD at last. By June and July I would wake up because I had too, so that I would have less demerits and absences to cover once I started to pay for them as graduation grew nearer. By August, I was waking up because I could learn something new, a new disease, I new method for examining, a new “aha” moment – moments that didn’t come, moments that flew by, moments I took for granted.

And, so as I decided on whether I would get up on that faithful day of September, I asked myself; “I wonder when will be the time that I could wake up and go for myself?” Not for others, not for grades or demerits, not for frustrated learning experiences but for the shear joy and deep desire to do what I love, a love that had been forgotten.

It’s Actually Compassion Exhaustion

That morning I went back to sleep in my bed because I could not find the reason to get out of bed I was looking for. After two hours, I opened my eyes and decided to inquire about my leave of absence, the requirements and the process and this was the first time I felt alive again in a long time. I guess that day I got out of bed for myself afterall – the reason: Compassion fatigue. No! Compassion Exhaustion!

Missing you

2010-05-26T12:00:00.003+08:00

There was a time in my life when I was sitting in a bench in the administration building of my university. Back then I was feeling like a little toddler lost in the supermarket watching the people buzzing around and no familiar face was there for comfort. I thought that having been uprooted from my comfort zone was a crossroad I would never cross once I've mastered that. Perhaps I have not mastered being uprooted or maybe there is just no mastery to it because we get uprooted so many times in a lifetime.

It has been years since I felt this way. First year medical school confronted me with the same adjustment anxiety that left me tormented for months. Finally now after three years, when I thought I have found my niche, my place, my people and my passion, I again feel that same feeling of being awkward, being uprooted and having that same sense of unfamiliarity where no familiar face is available for comfort.

As far is career is concerned, most people in the medical profession call this stage COMPASSION FATIGUE. Working 24-32 or even 36 hour shifts for the past 7 months is no joke. Aside from the lack of sleep, academic demands and the daily grind of dealing with the toxicity of life and death situations, there are more occasions of slavery and power struggle. Nurses order us around. The facilities of fuming hot consultation clinics and dripping conference rooms house our day to day activities. Benches and counters are converted into study tables and nap areas but it may also be quite impossible to get some naps if you get calls of patients pulling out their IVs and catheters in the wee hours of the morning for you to put them back in so they can have their medications.

These are just some examples and there are a lot more of powertrip and heartwarming and heartbreaking stories to tell but the bottom line of all these is that it's really really really tiring. These days I go to the hospital for the attendance so I don't have to pay the exponential demerits that goes with absences. I only find myself making sure a patient doesn't die on me and sometimes they just do. It's frustrating looking myself at the mirror and feeling mediocre about the way I conduct myself in this noble profession but efforts at improvement are as parched as this wretched drought. I know exactly what I am supposed to do but I don't find strength nor enthusiasm to start doing them today. I end up procrastinating.

As for my social life, there's the occasional going out with friends. I try my best but when I get home I feel more tired than ever. I thought going out would give me a break from the routine I'm stuck in but I end up finding more excuses to crawl into my hole as soon as I'm done socializing.

Maybe, all these boils down to losing the presence of someone very dear to me. I am usually not one of those persons who wraps around my life on a particular individual but after three years of being together it just happen. Unaware our lives were intertwined and now that we are in a long distance relationship, I feel so lost.

I used be positive at our system of education, though imperfect, he is that blessing that draws me to the hospital everyday and starts my day with such freshness and energy. And, when confronted with tiring tasks and frustrations, he was there, with his shoulder and his hugs to make me feel alright. Now I can only get that from his texts ..."Mwah.."

I kept my circle of friends but he was the one I opened up everything for the past three years. Now, this separation anxiety is so severe I can't even talk to people or at least really express what I truly feel - sad and lost.

And yet, despite this misery I am thankful for the bit and pieces of texts that take a few seconds of our busy day just to connect and the few minutes of calls just to make me know he's still around, even miles away.

I have been uprooted once again from my comfort zone that is him. I feel once again like that toddler lost in the supermarket unable to walk confidently and find my way around. I wish my heart would expand like a big balloon to engulf and include those around me and that I would find in them that small part of inspiration that he monopolized for so long. But until then, I remain in this little hole... missing you.

Pearls...

2010-04-23T00:16:00.002+08:00

Today is the graduation of Batch 2010 in Medical School - Batch Mumbaki - Cheers!

I could not help but feel gratitude and happiness for my classmates who have finally completed 4 years of medical school, including the dreaded Clinical Clerkship year. Much has happen to us, we grew up as well as learned (I hope...) and many deep experiences and friendships and love lives have been forged in the process. For someone like me, who sat on the sidelines and watched my batchmates (???) graduate, I couldn't help but also feel ambivalent about not being able to fully celebrate this moment with them. Some of these people, this may well be the last day I see them as we have no other way to go but go about our own separate lives. The past three years, I have been looking for the good reasons why I am in this place; hoping what I long for - answers - would be like pearls, oyster tears signifying something good born from something sad. Although I can never deny graces, today I feel more alone. Watching the significant people whom I have had the privilege of being friends with move into another dimension in life is like feeling a deep sense of separation anxiety.

Moreover, I am also counting the days until I am separated from the love of my life - who will be undergoing his Post graduate internship in Davao City. I would like to think that of all people in the world, we two can handle the distance. Both our parents have succeeded in that department through the years and make good role models. But, it is also certain that changes are inevitable - for our sake I hope change for our good. Distance can be both a challenge conquered resulting in a deeper commitment but it can also be detrimental to our relationship. It was good of him to leave me with me knowing of what he really feels - (After he stepped off from the stage, I noticed, he was looking for me - for me moments like these are reserved for the significant people in ones life; parents, family and those who really contributed to his success in finishing medschool, for me to be included in "his family" must be indicative of his truest feelings and intentions). It is an honor to be loved by someone, especially one whom I love as well. Hopefully, despite the challenges, we can always hang on to this foundation.

Sometime in a cave...

2010-04-02T19:38:00.004+08:00

I was surfing the internet getting updates from friends, today is Good Friday and for the first time in years I had abstained from watching tv. Tapping and clicking away in the internet, I stumbled upon the inspiring homily of gratitude and tribute of Fr. Danny Huang to Fr. Joe Galdon. And, as I read through the black and white lines, I remembered what I missed most during this past few months. In his homily, Fr. Danny claimed that Fr. Galdon taught him how to read, write and teach - in aspects that "deepened and honed not only his mind but his humanity".

It's quite ironic that in a profession such as mine that deals with human body, I miss the feeling of being deepened up to the core of humanity. No one in my world talks or even thinks about humanity - we're to busy being doctors (or at least we think we are.)

Sometimes in a cave - like the one I'm feeling I'm in now, you find yourself in the abyss, in the silence, in the nothingness. Perhaps, to agree with the general theme of the season - death is necessary to feel alive once again. I needed this moment, this cave, this "stuckness" to feel alive again.

Reminder...

2010-03-30T22:43:00.003+08:00

When I wake up each morning, it automatically comes to me to get ready to go to the hospital. When I get there, it becomes a blaze of patients, papers, classmates, nurses, staff and hospital concerns. When everything is in 911 mode it's very easy to take for granted periods of thanksgiving and some time to honor little and huge sacrifices.

This season, I am reminded that He has offered the ultimate sacrifice - His life that we may have hope and a reason to really live. Salamat sa reminder (of His sacrifice) from the skinny trisikad driver peddling his way to make a living, to the patient who succumbed to a hemorrhage caused by a blunt trauma to an internal organ, to the nurse who made kamusta first before demanding work to be carried out, to the batchmate who shared a laugh or two despite many paperworks, to the resident who listened even if he was tired from duty, to my boyfriend who shared a good meal despite the inconvenience of time and budget and to a good friend who made an inspiring and apt video for this particular season.

Little sacrifices are more than just reminders - they are snippets of hope.

Hypothermic

2010-03-24T22:42:00.003+08:00

As the graduation day of my batchmates come nearer and nearer, the countdown calendar in the bulletin board decreases in number of days, so does the graduation fever increases in heat and intensity... and I'm experiencing hypothermia...

Preparations are being made for new paths and new opportunities and I can't help but wonder how alone I will feel once they've all moved on to another level in our training. I will surely miss this batch but I also find crumbs of hope and things to rejoice for.

Some thoughts though...

In a famous surgical resident's story about how a mouse was transformed by a magician to a cat, then to a dog, and then to a tiger (animals higher in the food chain) and still the mouse still had a mentality or rather a mental capacity of a mouse, I couldn't help but wonder as to how much I have gained so far after 4 mos in Clinical Clerkship. This period of saying goodbye at the same time enables me to revisit the things I need to do and accomplish before I too can say goodbye.

Another thought to ponder by; "The grass is always greener in the other side..."
It seems that when it comes to relationships, the latest trend going on around me is that people are looking for something or someone to fill the lack or the void of an absence. It's nice to see the other perspective but I feel I like my grass the way it is now. In the words of a wise classmate; "May mga bagay na masarap kasi bawal." Even if most people say long distance relationships don't work, I still put my bet on us that it will.

Finally, this season of lent, the season for repentance and forgiveness in its ultimate form - I'd like to think of all the times I have practice neglect for the patient because they're too toxic and I've already been exhausted. And, also of all the times, I have to forgive people and situations that cause inconvenience and added stress. May these memories be stepping stones for the purification of my desire to become a doctor, (a doctor with compassion..)

Time to Think

2010-03-12T17:53:00.003+08:00

Today after months of heavy working conditions, I finally have time to think. Sitting here in my room, tapping and yapping away in my new keyboards gives me a feeling of ease I have not felt in quite a long time. There is soooooo much going on in my daily activities that I no longer know where to start cleaning up the chaos. So much in fact that exhaustion will merely push me to stop. As if there was nothing more to say or think about and further postpone this cathartic relief.

Last night, I learned that the greatest thing I fear in a long distance relationship is myself. It has been decided that my boyfriend of four years will be doing his post-graduate internship in his home-city miles away (Davao City). And, for months I have been fuzzing about how male doctors get into trouble with the usual flirting with hospital staff and other medical professionals. There seems to be an unwritten law that says; "What ever happens in the hospital, stays in the hospital." Thus, the fear of not being able to know what happens in the hospital in Davao. This was further aggravated when a good friend of ours broke up with his girlfriend of seven years because he fell for another friend of ours during their tour of duties as clinical clerks. The events unfolding were like a prime time pinoy teleserye which was much anticipated and talked about.
In this complicated situation, I was wondering the whole time; "What if he falls for someone in his tour of duty in Davao." My personal stand is that I cannot really blame him because I will be miles away and there will really be times that I will not be there for him in the stressors and hazards of this line of work. But, in all this I was hoping and praying that nothing of this sort happens eventually.

It was only two days ago that I was the one who had my back on the wall. Some residents and classmates of mine had a drinking session after duty and I did not inform my boyfriend about the event. That night I didn't inform him because I already knew what he would react to - that these male resident/s could not be trusted because of their reputation with our other female classmates. I knew it was harmless if i went, but he may see it differently. So i went anyway but didn't tell him about it. The following day, I felt somethings not right about his reactions, I was suspecting that he was suspecting so i decided to come clean and tell him about the "tambay session" the night before. My delay in information dissemination did not suit well with him but he told me to no longer fuzz about it because it was in the past. Thus, ending the issue.

I only bring it to light as I remember the events now because I will need to handle these things properly with him. I dont want to hurt him or disappoint him when I go out with this types of people but at the same time I simply cannot keep on turnign down every invitation of this sort because when you come to think about it, there's nothing really behind some friends sharing conversations over some bottles of alcohol and having a little fun after a hard days work...

Next week will be the feast of St. Joseph - Husband of Mary and Patron of all husband, fathers and maybe boyfirends. He was an ideal man who was just and caring and secure and loving. I have always prayed to him for guidance and strength, and true enough even if i had my share of relationship mishaps, I never done anything or made a decision that I regretted. It is in these times, that I remember him more because I will be entering uncharted waters - nothing secure or permanent especially in something as complicated as a relationship (lalu na long distance)... I know for now that our individual choices shape the direction of our lives but I will also leave something a bit to FAITH and to DESTINY. Maybe only a handfull believe in this two things these days, sometime I too am tempted not to believe anymore. But what if these two have some stake at my life too, that FAITH and DESTINY also have a place in what I am going through... then maybe some power in this universe will actually give this something to help it work out well in the end.

First Few Days

2009-11-19T20:57:00.003+08:00

First few days in Clinical Clerkship is like the first few years of life. I am on my heels in new ground. i admire residents who know how to teach and give CONSTRUCTIVE criticism but i am ambivalent to those who need "massaging of egos"... i guess real doctors should be CONFIDENT enough and need not humiliate others to feel superior. But, that's just me - sometimes i feel pity, sometimes disgust for the insecure BUT i know it's wrong. I AM CALLED FOR GREATER COMPASSION.

(that may be tested very soon - for tomorrow is another day) BRING IT ON! Father, I surrender my spirit...

All Saints’ Day 09

2009-11-02T23:48:00.004+08:00

It all starts out like a blur of contempt. It’s as if my mind has so many things to complain about. And, to top it all, each complaint has an alluring promise of doing something better in my life – in the future, with my children, with my family, with my career – that I didn’t have or I didn’t get to do today. All these negative emotions only stir up more apathy and discontentment and disappointment, and to top it all regret.

Later, I came to realize that I only feel this way because of all the expectations I have attached to my self and my life – all the shoulds and the shoudn’t, all the musts and musn’ts.

I thought of the lives of saints for All Saints’ Day and how all of them had some suffering to endure. I compared it with my sufferings (well, for starters they’re not really sufferings in comparison) and realized I was only suffering because I forgot the basics – the letting go and the poverty of faith. Sometimes, it gets very hard to believe in faith because of the omnipotent characteristic of the medical practice. A student like me often thinks: “I passed medical academics because I studied well. God had nothing to with my scores.” And yet, we pray day in and day out just before every exam – “Lord, Help me pass this test.” I forgot the basics of being grateful for the present. I forgot about the movements of the Spirit. I guess saints are saints not just because they suffered. They suffered for the right reasons, for unselfish reasons and for reasons no reason can explain.

Getting in touch with this is a blessing. It’s like re-uniting with the belief of true love when medical school offers no room for romance. It’s like meeting my old friend – confidence – (often present but repressed) reminding me that failure is a part of life and that humility is the best support for getting up from where I’ve fallen. It’s like having new hope – that as I start a new chapter of my life tomorrow I am somehow re-assured I’m in the right path.

With this, I welcome myself to Clinical Clerkship….

Some time to think... and read...

2009-10-15T11:00:00.002+08:00

since it's sem break, i am officially giving time for my personal and emotional growth - academics and career are on a hold for the next 17 days...

today, na panas na... it may have took my a long time but am very happy now, i dont see the point anymore...i dont care anymore... yipee:)

special thanks to the people who listened thru the years... to my parents, Juds, Nins, Gracia - I miss ya.. Joy, Yette - Wish you were here (but thanks from across the miles) Renz, Chard and BB (thanks gid for the advice, i couldnt help but fil regret for posting those things, subong wala na, and thanks to your advice i would have made the mistake of telling pa and would have made things more complicated)

(and to - ) happy 2 years and 11 months to us... lav ya:)

countdown...

2009-10-14T00:07:00.002+08:00

Anxiety Aattack - 18 days to go before hospital duty...

and I'm having nightmares about the things i didn't get to do...

i may not have said it, i may not have shown it... it's in the past...

and, even if i feel-had i said or done something before that would set me straight today,

i choose everyday, to forget and let go...

i choose with every single minute and second - to be happy with my now.

DSM Axis IV: Phase of Life Crisis

2009-09-06T23:04:00.005+08:00

Earlier today, I got a text from dear cousin in Manila, she asked me to tell her mom to call her – she says she’s dying.

Yeh cuz, I’m telling you I can relate to that feeling. Whenever we feel confused, anxious, burnt out (no matter what the age or life stage) we call our mothers. Classic example of that are women in labor – they curse their husbands and cry out for their mothers in pain.

Like you, (needing my mom) at this point, am in a “Phase of Life Crisis.” Am going into Clerkship in a few weeks and all the anxieties and fears of being unprepared are sinking in. To top it all, it seems like fate is testing me – reminding me of my first year failure. Going back to that time, I realized how wrong I was on how I dealt with stress. I thought after college I had mastered the art of coping. I was wrong, and it got me sick with Typhoid fever. And, that maybe the greatest regret I will have to live with.

Adding to my “panic attack” at the moment is a very pervasive helplessness. It feels like this phase will the beginning of the end of my life. Sounds cliché, but from this point it feels like I’ll be making a whole lot of important decisions not only in my career but in my life as a whole. I cannot compartmentalize the issue that my boyfriend is considering going back thousands of miles away to Davao for his Post- Graduate Internship, while I, considering my own career will be staying here in Iloilo. (SHUCK! Do LDRs ever work?) My last one didn’t…

Moreover, going back to the whole clerkship thing… how can I cope with minimal sleep, minimal food, toxic patients and moody doctors?!!! Plus, do I have enough medical knowledge for the clinics? What if I screw up? I just keep telling myself:

“Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor's cup.
And he learned too late, when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out -
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt -
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit -
It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit”

These things are normal, undergone by so many people and most come out on top. Just like they all say; “It’s just part of growing up.” But, subalit, pero – Ang hirap pala!

Phase of Life Crisis (definition) this category is associated with a particular developmental pahse or some life circumstance that is NOT DUE TO A MENTAL DISORDER. Example – entering school, leaving parental control, starting a new career, and changes in marriage, divorce and retirement.

Tour de Life - Third Stop: Visayan Tour

2009-07-14T15:33:00.004+08:00

Note on this picture: San Juanico Bridge - my dad insisted I wear this very big shirt he bought for me in Tacloban - he used to buy me clothes as a little girl and he was missing it!

This is my jetsetter life - I visited the 5 major islands of the Visayas in 10 days. Here’s my itinerary.

May 23 – Depart Iloilo, Panay island for Bacolod, Negros Occidental 8:15 Weesam Express (Fast craft)

Depart Bacolod for Dumaguete, Negros Oriental 12:00 pm Ceres Liner (bus)

May 28 – Depart from Dumaguete to Tagbilaran, Bohol 6:30 am Weesam Express (Fast craft)

Depart from Tagbilaran to Cebu 11:00 am Weesam Express (Fast craft)

Depart from Cebu to Tacloban, Leyte 3:00 pm Philippine Airlines

May 31 – Depart from Tacloban to Samar 9:00 am (land trip)

June 1 – Back to Iloilo

Tour de Life - Second Stop: Thailand

2009-07-14T15:26:00.003+08:00

It’s so hard to blog about my trip to Thailand because I’ve reserved an entire notebook that if published will be just like a book. This simply means that there is a multitude of information, people, places and experiences that can be written down describing the country, the culture and the people. Looking back at it now, these are the key things I re-learned in Thailand:

1) Faith is an eclectic expression – I was waiting for mass to start at the Holy Redeemer Church in Bangkok. I wanted to dispose myself so I sat still and started repeating a Jesuit phrase (btw, repeating phrases in disposing one’s self for prayer is a Carmelite method). As the Eucharist began – I listed to a vibrant all Filipino choir singing English praise songs and the homily of a (I think) Nigerian priest who had the fire of Martin Luther King. To top this eclectic spiritual experience, I was sitting in a row of people who were speaking Bisaya and Ilocano inside a church that looked like the Thailand’s Grand Palace with a golden statue of the Risen Christ towering a catholic altar. Nice.

2) My ten days in Thailand was filled with beauty, simplicity, courteousness and mildness – things that I took home with me.

3) Fr. Bom’s 1st homily as a priest gave words to live by – follow one of Christ’s words or works in the bible – even just one for every day.

4) Filipinos may have much woundedness and limitations that we carry around even when we travel to foreign countries (especially in a tour group) but we still love each other anyway and continue to be compassionate to our sisters and brothers who sometimes get on our nerves.

5) There’s nothing greater than traveling thousands of miles to be exposed and free of my comfort zones and see and learn new things as an initiation into real adulthood that would require – confidence to hold one’s ground, independence, discernment and the ability to use diplomacy and effective communication even without words.

Tour de Life - First Stop: Ateneo de Manila University, Loyola Heights Quezon City

2009-07-14T15:20:00.002+08:00

That old Shakey’s Place in Katipunan Ave. had been reduced to ruble. The once colorful mix of red, black and orange now stood depressed with torn down walls. There was nothing more than gray concrete frames.

Shakey’s was our tambayan after the AtSCA Friday night prayer sessions. It remembered pizza or combo meal dinners followed by giant ice cream making contest. Archie and Mour discovered and honed our skills in making towering ice cream sundaes topped with nuts, crunchies and cereal. One cell – a company of ten people would consume the sundae with such speed, Shakey’s personel knew they were losing money whenever we’d walk in their doors.

Ateneo did not only change in terms of the restos still standing along Katipunan. The campus itself had some new additions since I graduated – the MVP center, the new Social Sciences Building and the new Rizal Hall currently in construction. With some disappearances and some appearances I couldn’t help but go through the pages and pages of memories I had burnt and left behind. I found myself missing the blissful things and people that this place reminded me of but I also could again feel the frustrations and disappointment that were tied with these memories.

I miss my college days. Seeing once again college friends and how we’ve grown through the years are such admirable achievements. These are some everyday consolations that paint colorful stepping stones that signify each step of tour de life.

ON MOTHERHOOD

2009-04-03T17:40:00.000+08:00

Yesterday was girls’ night out for Renz, Baby and myself. After dinner we would go to this local coffee shop and chat the night away. As we sat comfortably in a corner table so that we would have some privacy, Baby’s phone rang.

Motherhood is a job on 24-hr availability, our dear Princess (Baby and Christian’s Angel) would not go bed. Tatay Christian, on baby duty while Mamang baby was out on a girls’ night out was trying hard to pacify her but to no avail. Baby was talking to little Princess on the phone….

“Cge na Princess, Sleeep na..”

As the supportive “ninangs” we tried to keep silent as not to aggravate the already restless child listening to her mom amidst an array of noise in a busy coffee shop. After a few seconds, our silence broke into laughter when Baby started singing…

The Phone, The Phone is ringing
The Phone is ringing, we’ll be right there!

Lets save the bewds!
Weeeeeeee!

Lenny, Tuck and Ming-Ming too…
We’re Wonder Pets and we’ll help you…

What’s gonna work?!
TEAMWORK!

What’s gonna work?!
TEAMWORK!

Comm’on Wonder pets, we’ve got some baby bewds to save….
Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Wonder Pets, Wonder Pets we’re on our way
To help the baby bewds and save the day

We’re not too big and we’re not too tough
But when we work together
We’ve got the right stuff!!!

GO WONDER PETS!
YEY!

We never stopped laughing until Baby put down the phone. There’s nothing like a mother’s song to calm her little one.

Every Cherry That Falls Deserves to Die

2009-03-29T22:15:00.000+08:00

There is an old hospital in the city where doctors and nurses go to train. Once a year a batch of new wanna-bee doctors come in and work as clinical clerks vying for graduation after twelve months.
During the first two days of the clinical clerks’ internship, a certain medical student was not feeling so well. She had cough and a cold yet despite her ordeal she followed the residents’ instructions. By the third day, she was left to do patient monitoring by herself. With her deteriorating health, she failed to monitor one patient’s hospital status. She woke up late that morning and by the time she got to the wards the resident on duty was pissed.
“Do you have any ideal what you’re doing? If you’re not ready for this, then quit! Well? Were you not prepared for this?!”
The clinical clerk was nothing but apologetic. But, this place had no room for apologies. In this place people walked the thin line between life and death and everything else only mattered to sustain life and avoid death.
“Sorry doc, it’s my first time to miss monitoring. I’m not feeling well.”
“Every cherry that falls deserves to die!”
With this, the resident stomped out of the wards.

- Dream over –

How time flies. Three years of medical school academics is finally over and internship is just around the bend. This is precisely why my body clock has switched on the anxiety button and here I am dreaming about possible scenarios and outcomes.
I guess I feel like that cherry. I fell one time during medical school when I failed to perform my best and it seems as if I deserve die.
Do I really belong in this place? Am I ready for this? I remember all the exams I flunked and all the data I couldn’t squeeze into my brain. I have such great classmates. Some even got perfect scores in our comprehensive exams. I guess these people would really make fine doctors. Our school gives premium to academic standing because we belong to the top five medical schools in the country.
It’s sad that in this charade I sense that I am losing myself again. I think its basically helplessness and regret for not studying more or reading more or doing something more.
My only hope that despite all this fear and regret is that everything will be alright and that in the midst of my limitations, I may still be able to have that great opportunity to save lives instead of being a liability in the hospital.

TL

2009-03-26T01:24:00.001+08:00

An old phonogram sits and waits
in the musky living room
where she had made it’s home.

She misses the twirling disc
her companion, her partner.
Their union used to bring people joy.

It has been too long,
Vague memories through opaque eyes
remember the music.

Atop her wooden carvings,
her darkly stained frame and her brass handle,
Sits something of this era
with dancing lights and vibrating sounds.

Would you still love something gathering dust?
Would you still like her nagging tune
playing over and over?

Would you tolerate her unpredictability?
At times she’d indulge,
One’s thirst for refined echoic sound quenched.
Another time she’d simply cease.
Unresponsive. Uncooperative.
An irritating silence.

The beautifully made,
Handcrafted and carefully assembled
remain quietly in survey of your movement.

Your piece of attention,
Your glance and your nod
is all she lives for.

My grandfather loves that piece;
Aged and archaic.
Persistently troublesome, truly erratic.

He loves that piece
that once gave him true bliss.
An irreplaceable part of him,
his reason to still dance to her tune.

2-14

2009-03-26T01:20:00.001+08:00

2 things I will not write about…
Are your eyes
How they sparkle and dance.
Nor your lips
And the music from your voice.

1
Instead, I’ll write about your honesty;
When admiration was apparent
But attraction obscured.

2
Instead, I’ll write about your courage,
For that first jeepney ride invitation;
For taking one step closer;
For learning folk dance.

3
Instead, I’ll write about your character;
When you waited and hoped;
When you worried and felt vulnerable;
When you took a chance;

4
Instead, I’ll write about your friendship;
When you gave your time –
For crying amidst seaside sunsets
And jogging under stars.

5
Instead, I’ll write about your simplicity;
When fun was spontaneous;
When arguments were short but logical;
When mere presence would stop time;

6
Instead, I’ll write about your wisdom,
When your advice gave direction;
When your corrections gave insight
even if we do not always agree.

7
Instead, I’ll write about your focus,
For the things you want,
The vocation you desire,
and the transcendence of who you are.

8
Instead, I’ll write about your thoughtfulness.
For Perri todds and peanut snacks,
For twined rings and notebook drawings,
For edited wallpaper pictures.

9
Instead, I’ll write about your strength.
Despite your fear, you wooed my parents.
Despite your discomfort,
You enamored my friends.

10
Instead, I’ll write about your tolerance;
When PMS was painful and violent;
When disagreements always resolve with apologies;
When busy schedules keep us apart;

11
Instead, I’ll write about your humor,
How your jokes sometimes raise eyebrows,
Yet I find myself laughing.

12
Instead, I’ll write about your respect;
For understanding the word “no”;
For your silence;
When you had nothing good to say.

13
Instead, I’ll write about your struggle,
Balancing between trying to change
while staying true to yourself.

14
And, I’ll write about your commitment,
in 807 days, 19,368 hours, 1,162,080 minutes
and possibly a lifetime more.

IN THE BUSINESS OF SOULS

2008-04-14T21:42:00.000+08:00

“I am 23 years old. I am unemployed. I rely on allowance from parents or from generous benefactors. I’m still in school.”

Familiar? If I were to describe an aspect of myself, this would be quite applicable. I am a medical student trying to make a career, a business in souls.

Why did I choose the term “in the business of souls?”

I guess I attributed it to the profession of being a physician. A doctor deals with life and death situations every day. A doctor has to study a minimum of eight to ten years just to become competent enough to manage critical and fatal conditions. A doctor has to spend tireless years in hospital training running on empty stomachs and lack of sleep to arrive at a point when he or she spells the difference between expiration of life or the longevity of life.

Pondering on these I remembered a few reflections during my first year in medical school when I became overwhelmed with how crucial this career was. I thought to myself, “If a lawyer, an engineer and an architect know much, people would live comfortably and in order. If he or she does not know so much, people lose money, comforts and securities most of the time. But, if a doctor does not know what he or she is doing, that doctor may automatically be liable for the patient’s appointment with St. Peter in the gates of heaven.”

Scary thought?! To ease my anxiety in this new found realization, I tried to think of other professions who are also “in the business of souls.” I thought of the Military and law enforcement who risk life and limb to protect and serve. Then finally, I thought about priests and the religious who actually guide and influence the souls of persons. I said to myself; “if doctors can influence WHEN a person makes that appointment in heaven’s golden gates, priests and religious carry the duty to influence whether a person is ABLE to get there at all.

Maybe priests and doctors are different in a lot of ways but we are similar in one aspect. Both are directly and immediately liable for the passage of souls.

Career and Vocation

An online dictionary defines business as “that with which a person is principally and seriously concerned.” Is this life we have chosen, the business of souls just a mere concern?

I always go back to my immersion experience in the mountain of Gabaldon with the Dumagat tribe where I found inspiration to take up this so called career or business. Back then, all I wanted was to help in improving health care delivery systems to the poor and marginalized. I had no idea that it would take this great amount of effort and psychological turmoil to pave the way in reaching that goal. This is when I started having second thoughts in this so-called business of mine.

One of the hardest things to do in life is to admit that you’re wrong. I was wrong in thinking that this was a business in the first place. A business like in a capitalist’s perspective entitles the merchant to gain or to profit. What was the profit in my case? Doctors are even fleeing the country for lack of profit.

For me to actually continue down this road I needed to see this more than just a career but a VOCATION.

With this, I began to see that even without profit; I was doing something “where my interests (in science and learning) met with needs of the world (need for doctors in the world of nursing).” There was no profit to gain, no immediate satisfaction. There was only that feeling that I may have come a step closer into “attaining that what I was created for – to praise, reverence and serve Him.”

I guess with the change in perspective of what fueled my desire to enter in this life also changed my choice of not only wanting a career or a business, rather a vocation.

Elements: An ART-form

Nothing comes easy. If it were, it would not be forth fighting for.

In this era of Science advancement and Information technology, I still believe that the key element/s in my chosen vocation is ART (Academics, Results, Training).

Academics

I often hear complaints about academics. How surgery is too taxing to study. How pathology is so hard to understand. From some seminarian friends, I also once heard the same complaints, “Budlay gid ya ang scriptures!!!”

I too complain. I also procrastinate. I also find excuses not to study or rationalize my need for rest and relaxation. But, I also realize that not studying means increasing my chances of becoming a liability instead of an asset in this vocation. “Ang indi ko na-bal-an, basi salabton ko pa sa ulihi kay San Pedro.”

I appreciate priests who know what they talk about in their sermons. Like doctors whose vocations require expertise in the body, priests I think require a certain expertise on Christ’s teachings if they are to guide persons in “attaining that which they are created for- praise, reverence and serve Him.”

Academics in these fields; of priestly and medical vocations is indeed essential if we are to succeed.

Results

When I think of results I always attribute it to a certain measure. Grades? Scores? Ranking? Number of Patients? Income?

More quiet time got me thinking that results may not always be measured.

I remembered once we had a lecture on the Bedside Strategies of Cardiology Patients. There were two results from that lecture. One, was my grade in the Cardiology long exam and another was reminiscing an experience that I would carry with me for life.

That lecture taught me about good bedside strategies applicable to Cardio patients. However, it also reminded me to practice a little more compassion in the wards especially in critically, dying or even expired patients.

Results are not always numerical. Sometimes modest experiences can result into life changing convictions. It took some quiet time to acknowledge both the measurable and the immeasurable fruits of this seemingly ordinary daily experience. And, even this desire to stop and sit in His presence is also a result of that desire to piece together seemingly random yet life changing results. I guess counting and seeing these results works for me because they take me step by step in this journey.

Training

Another common characteristic about priests (or religious) and medical practitioners is the amount of time spent in training. It takes years.

At first I was suspecting it was some sadistic tradition. However, more quiet time reminded me that the long duration of training correlates with experience being the best teacher.

I remember spending some time in the Jesuit Infirmary during my college days. The priests in residence during that time were Fr. Roque Ferriols, Fr. and the late Fr. Honti. I usually attended their 6 pm daily mass and they would give these short and yet inspiring sermons. I guess what made these sermons spontaneous and striking was not so much in the delivery but because there was truth and sincerity in it. Their years spent in training and in carrying out their ministries made them legends and yet they never stopped experiencing things and learning from these experiences.

It like what our professors always tell us; “Never stop learning, updating and training yourselves.” This is very true because vocations directly related with persons, whether in the body or in the soul are as dynamic as the persons themselves. They are constantly changing and therefore training never stops.

The business, rather the vocation of souls would not be called as such – a vocation if it had no goals. Basically, I think it still boils down to our fundamental goal – to be like JESUS (Just, Excellent, Self-Aware, Understanding and Sincere)

Justice

One of my greatest goals is to at least give justice to this vocation I have chosen.

When I failed anatomy during my first year, I was devastated. I may have had a bad case of typhoid fever during the exam days but to me that was no excuse. I should have studied early on before examinations. I guess I was devastated not so much for the grade but because I had failed to give justice to what I did. I felt as if I had approached my task with mediocrity. To a certain degree, it was true and I vowed it would never happen again.

There were a lot of priests in my lifetime that have talked about giving justice to work, justice to the poor, justice and fairness in politics. The ones I find inspiring, even as I was facing my own devastating academic phase were those who actually gave justice to their commission to “Believe what you read, Teach what you believe, and Practice what you teach.”

I believe this phrase applies not only to priests but to all people as a guide in giving the appropriate due to their chosen vocation. For us in the medical profession, we too must believe what we read, teach and educate on what we believe is right and helpful for the preservation of life and practice for ourselves what we advocate as health experts.

Justice comes in how much we value our work, our vocation and how we believe, influence and live out what we do. The goal I believe is to attain that level of justice – a justice of belief and conviction, a justice that is transcendent and transformative.

Excellence

If one is in the vocation of souls, one cannot afford not to be excellent.

Excellence is a goal aspired by everyone. No one wants not to be excellent. Even as early as kindergarten, we learn to aspire for that gold star that acknowledges that we are excellent.

I remember a story when I was in college about a theology student who debated with his teacher for not giving him an A grade. He firmly believed that he was excellent enough to warrant that A or even and A+ in his final grade. Our teacher explained that the excellence aspect was not in the grade per se, in getting that dearly coveted A or A+. The excellence of that student should have come from something more humble or “something less in order to give more”.

Medical students are challenged to be excellent. Excellent in their expertise. Excellent in their skills. However, what good are expertise and skills without the desire to go out and serve others. Our veteran doctors always remind us that what makes a good doctor most of the time is not so much on the Latin honors or the Board Exams Standing (although it helps), rather it is in the number of patients you have helped or at least touched in one way or another.

Self-Awareness

How come Human Formation is so important in the priestly formation? How come screening and personal interviews are so essential in the admission of medical students? Whether we like it or not, the single step to be taken in a journey or vocation will always begin with the self.

To me this goal is quite simple. To achieve a certain level of self-awareness means achieving a certain level of recognition how close we are in the image and likeness of our creator.

“…What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you will do with your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, what YOU KNOW that breaks your heart and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.”

What we know about ourselves, our loves, our fears decide the outcome.

Understanding

It may just be a function of our brains but there’s more to understanding than it cognitive process. Understanding cuts across the multicolored high-lighted notes of our academics or the black and white pages of Harrison’s Principle of Internal Medicine or the New American Bible. It can also encompass the ability to compromise difficult teachers, classmates or community members. In the dynamic gift which is life, greater understanding is as desired as world peace. It may exist as an idea but it is a goal worth hoping for. Having understanding sometimes spells the difference between a medical lawsuit and a relationship of cooperation with a patient’s family. It can differentiate between a rebellious cry for implementation of certain rules or a compromise between formators and formands on how life in the seminary should be bettered.

Sincerity

There is only one thing to say about sincerity – it greatly relates to commitment.

Every so often I receive emails of job offerings both local and abroad. If I were joking about this vocation in medical practice, I would have quit a long time ago. However, I’d like to believe that proper discernment has allowed me to come to my deep and sincere desire to undertake this kind of life. Thus, I have more confidence that I can live out the commitment I gave into this vocation.

I always remember my SD in college when he shared about his decision to break it off with his girlfriend to pursue priesthood. He said; “Hindi ka pwede ma-mangka sa dalwang ilog. If you do you are not sincere in serving one or both.”

To end:

I have spent hours writing this essay down. It’s as if I had made a career out of it. In the past I like to think that had made a career out of so many things. I thought I’d end up making a career out of life – a good job that pays well with a lot of perks and freebies, travel, live comfortably and luxuriously, have all the merits and titles I can have.

Instead, I am 23 years old. I am unemployed. I rely on allowance from parents or from generous benefactors. I’m still in school.”

Familiar? If I were to describe an aspect of myself, this would be quite applicable. I am a medical student trying to live out a vocation, a vocation in the service of bodies and souls.

One-Point Justice

2008-04-14T21:40:00.000+08:00

It takes so little to find inspiration to write. I have gone long months barren for words. In my world of paper and print, all in the thickness of the black and whites of books, this is what sometimes gives birth to a steam of words.

Today, our class assembled to check our test papers from our recent examination. There were a lot of buzzes regarding ambiguous questions. I came to realize how each point mattered to us medical students. It meant the difference between passing and failing. Lord knows no one in that class wanted a taste of failure and getting that one single point meant we would have to fight for it as if it were a matter of life and death.

I have failed one subject before and for a long time I was asking whether it was because I was sick with typhoid fever or because I had too many distractions. It could also have been due to my seemingly carefree attitude towards fighting for points. Anyway, this sort of pondering should be shelved for a while as I go back to the present and recall today’s account on that exam review.

There were three types of people in the classroom; the ones who passed and felt at ease with their scores who didn’t bother to contest the ambiguous questions, the one who failed who were really trying hard to fish for that longed-for bonus point and the ones who passed with flying colors who were still fishing for those bonus points.

Seeing this, I remembered what I learned in Macheavelian Ethics about Justice. It referred to Justice as “giving due to” or “being in moderation with”. In our set-up now, who were those points due to? And, how do we quantify moderation in this passionate struggle to earn points?

One of the questions really struck me. There were two answers that were found in the multiple choice item. I knew letter a and c were correct. Deep down I remembered I had memorized this and even up to that moment I could still vividly see my own handwriting showing the two answers.

Dilemma at hand; there was no one else who was asking or questioning that particular number. I was uneasy but at that time I let it go.

A few minutes later, another question came to the group’s attention. This particular question was related to the one I was having uneasiness with. One of our top ten classmates stood up and defended her answer and the bonus was awarded.

It was that easy huh? Our proctor even reinforced her saying; “Your bonus will depend on how well you defend your answers.”

Review over. I went home after a long and busy day but at one point I still couldn’t forget about that one point. I’d have to admit that my primary motivation was pride. My boyfriend always reminded me to memorize stuff and that morning he told me I should memorize some more. Yes, I believe he was right but I also knew myself and that I knew I studied pretty well that particular question and had memorized it. The bad thing though was that I memorized the notes prepare by our class instead of getting it first hand from the book.

As I went home I checked the notes again. I was right! Both answers were found in that set of notes. What was I to do? What was I to feel?

My initial reaction was…. Thank God I’m not as stupid as I was slowly trying to believe!

Then again, I remembered some philosophizing around the value of JUSTICE.

One option was to go back tomorrow and inform Doc about the correction. I’m pretty sure when she sees the notes (that the whole class also read), she start to consider my plea and most likely award that one point. I’d get the credit and maybe some unfortunate classmate would get deductions for the correction. The other option was to do nothing anyway I passed the exam (not really with flying colors but with a substantial amount to get at least a decent grade). At this point, I was thinking that there were two right things to do in the name of justice. One to submit the correction and get the point due me and second to keep quiet and let some of my classmates hold on to that one point that may have made them pass that exam cause I already had enough points to get by.

When I think of it more, in the context of learning, I should submit that correction for everyone’s information and not lie complaisant arguing that I also did myself justice because now I now that between SABA and Theophylline, SABA is the most common reliever medication for asthma even though if both are also considered reliever medications. I guess I didn’t want more suffering surrounding ambiguous test item construction.

Today the scale of balance in this one-point justice system tipped into my “martyr” side. Who knows tomorrow it might tilt to my adamant philosopher side. Yet, no matter where this balance tips, the fact still remains that Justice will still and will always serve systems. Today and for me, it’s a one-point system, tomorrow it may be traditions of a hospital or institutional system. For others, it is in the peso-luxury system and still for a greater majority it is the peso-sweat and blood system.

Food for thought as I go back into the silence of black and white book pages:

Sa libro ni Fr. Roque Ferriols, pinahahalagahan niya ang importansya ng mga systema na kailangan sa tamang pamamaraan ng pamimilosopiya (“sapagkat ang pamimilosopiya ay ginagawa…”) pero ayun sa aking pagpapahalaga sa kanyang mga salita, ang systema na ilalapat sa pamimilosopiya ay dapat nararapat. Inihambing ito sa isang lambat na ginagamit sa pangingisda, ang lambat ang sistema at ang pamimilosopiya ay ang isda. Dapat angkop ang lambat sa isda, hindi siya parang tela (na ang pagkakahabi ng sinulid ay masyadong nakakumpol) na hihigupin pati ang tubig. Hindi rin ito parang lubid na iisang sinulid lamang ang nabubuo na kung siyang gagamitin ay wala kang makukuhang isda. Kundi ang lambat ay tama lamang at angkop para sa gawaing pangingisda.

If systems are so important, sometimes to influence the difference tribulation and success, do we even bother to think of them before we apply them?

In relation to our Society:

Politicians claim systems keep order and justice. Rebels and “destabilizers” claim they go against systems. Systems, systems, systems, they are but tools to the attainment of more decency, values, a means to better end, an opportunity to be the persons we were created for… Sana… in this one-point justice, tingi-tingi nga naman ang hustisya and sadly I am part of it.

021808

Mother's Day

2008-02-19T02:55:00.000+08:00

Perhaps it is fate that I write this paper on the eve of my mother’s birthday. I cannot help but feel a sense of Mother’s day fever recalling how I felt gratitude seeing mothers giving birth because it gave me an idea how I was brought into this world.

The opportunity to rotate in the WVSU-MC OB-GYNE wards and delivery room not only brought out the grateful daughter in me but more importantly it opened vital academic and practical learning in life.

Labor Watch

Because there were no Junior Interns when we got our chance to rotate, we were asked to do labor watch. At first I thought it was quite boring because we would just sit down beside the patient and count the contractions, record the time, intensity, duration and interval between contractions. As the Doc Tabiling was explaining what we were supposed to do, I could not help but feel anxious if this was all we were going to do the whole night. It seemed that we were going to spend our entire 11 hours duty sitting down and counting “tummy movements.”

This all changed when I met the patient. As I touched her abdomen for the first time and felt contractions, I was amazed on how you could actually feel the change in rigidity of the abdomen during contractions. I was more amazed when I felt my first fetal movement. I realized at that time and that it really sunk in that there was indeed life inside that large globular abdomen. It was an exciting experience to have an encounter with a person, even before he or she was born.

My undergrad was Psychology and I also believe in the Freudian principle that our past, even our birth experience somehow influences how we are today and what we become in the future. Because of this, I tried to make things easy for the mother. Even if the nurses would scold her for being so agitated in bed that she kept on moving, I tried to understand that she was not in a very comfortable situation. Stressing her out meant stressing the baby out was well and I know that psychologically and medically, fetal stress may sometimes lead to undesired complications.

Later, Doc explained that sometimes even if doctors would want to show compassion and patience towards the mothers, it is also sometimes necessary to scold them. At first I thought that it should not be the case afterall it’s really hard to be in labor and give birth. However, I was later enlightened when Doc explained that mothers, especially primigravids or first timers sometimes tend to nag the doctors to make them deliver. They are unaware that if they deliver at a time when the baby has not yet fully descended in the birth canal, there would be more complications. Doc explained that mothers usually just want to end their agony by delivering without really knowing the consequences of delivering at a time when the baby or the reproductive structures are not yet ready to do so.

Our first Natural spontaneous vaginal delivery was stressful delivery for Doc Tabiling because the mother was not obeying her instructions. From the emergency room, she was already pushing the baby out without the proper preparations like being cleaned or prepped or placed on the delivery table or having an episiotomy. As a result, she suffered a tear in her vaginal canal. Doc explained that it was fortunate that she delivered a small baby, or else the tear would have been deeper in to the vaginal muscle. Moreover, she also said that there are cases wherein the laceration would even reach the anus. She further explained that this is one example where doctors have to exert effort to instruct the patient even sometimes get angry also for the patient’s own good. At that point I realized that for things to go smoothly, the doctor must not only have compassion but also have good command over nagging mothers.

Rubber Hands

A person born can be born via cesarian section or natural spontaneous vaginal delivery. He or she may be born in breech or in cephalic position. He or she may be born with or without complications. Regardless of the child’s or the mother’s condition, in the hospital setting, the first sensation that catches the child’s skin are rubber hands.

Gloves are often used to protect both the mother and the child from bacteria that may cause infections. In as much as you would want to be the first to touch and feel your child this is quite impossible in the hospital setting.

Mothers do not usually come in contact with their child until the pediatrician had finished cleaning the child. In vaginal delivery, the child is immediately shown to the mother when he or she does not need to be resuscitated. However, in CS delivery, this takes more time because the mother is still groggy from sedation from the anesthetics.

As I observed or first CS delivery, I could not help but get amazed again by the speed by which the fetus was extracted from the womb. I already expected vaginal delivery to be fast but I did not expect CS delivery to be speedy as well. I guess it was quite logical that upon opening of the uterus, the child must be removed in a matter of seconds so that breathing and circulation immediately is established because it is very different compared to the placental environment. I estimated the extraction to be less than 15 seconds counting from the time I saw the uterus split open up to hearing the baby cry for the first time. It even took longer to clean and close the uterus and the abdomen which required intricate stitching and sponging of blood.

I saw that the apparent delay in maternal and child contact in this case is necessary for three reasons. First, it is important so that risks are decreased in both the newborn and the mother. Second, I felt this was important because for the first time the newborn experienced a sense of individuation and independence from the mother. Finally, I acknowledge that this is also the event where the newborns’ first experience socialization when the rubber gloves introduce a quite foreign presence compared to the maternal feeling he or she already knows.

The Quest for Answers

Aside from being able to see two kinds of deliveries, we were also fortunate to observe 2 curettage procedures. The first one I was fortunate enough to scrub in and assist because there were no interns around.

Unlike deliveries, I found the curettage procedure to be more painful. Sometimes during my observation, I could feel my stomach tighten especially seeing the insertion of foreign steel tools and the scraping and cleaning the uterus for fetal debris that may have been left behind from spontaneous or induced abortion of the fetus. As blood and placental parts were coming out of the patient, it dawned on me that these bloody structures were once part of a life or supported a life, and in effect was also synonymous to the life that once existed within the womb.

Thousands of mothers lose their fetus everyday by mechanical or chemical means. If only they could see this bloody fetal debris and think twice every time they contemplate an abortion. It is sad to know from the doctors and the hospital staff that there is a growing number of induced abortions that come for admission due to complications after the procedure. In one night I had saw both life and death. I saw how it was to be brought into this world kicking and screaming. At the same time I saw how it was to be brought into this world mutilated and lifeless.

Furthermore, there are also thousands of mother’s each day that lose their children due to natural causes. This particular aspect is quite familiar to me. I should have had four other siblings. All four were brought into this world lifeless and ended up either in curettage or a hysterectomy procedure.

The hospital duty for this part opened a quest for answers for me. Academically speaking, it was finding out more about the factors or probably the conditions that resulted in the two blighted ovum and two ectopic pregnancies of my mother. Her first ectopic pregnancy ruptured and she nearly died. I was only 5 years old when it happened and it was not a very nice memory. She was managed by a partial hysterectomy removing the right Ovary and Fallopian tube. Her second ectopic pregnancy resulted in a total hysterectomy and even if it did not rupture, it was more beneficial to remove the structures because the doctor already saw what seemed to be a formation of a mass. In between her two ectopic pregnancies, she still managed to get pregnant but ended up as blighted ovum. On was in 1997 and the other was in 1999.

It is by these circumstances that I became an only child and as I mentioned before, there’s that part of me that would want to know why. Perhaps it is in this quest for answers that more growth as a person and more knowledge as a medical student can flourish from. Her OB-GYNE found her to have endometriosis that may have contributed to her recurrent loss of babies but I’m quite sure that there are other reasons waiting to be discovered.

She often reminds me that she grew up with dysmenorrhea thinking it was natural. Now she knows it not and she is also worried that I might suffer the same condition as she had because I too experience dysmenorrhea during menstruation. This further extends this quest for answers in our part as mother and daughter because her fate may become mine as well.

In the End…

In all the amazement, the learning and the exposure that I encountered in my 11 hour rotation in OB-GYNE, I realize that more to the facts and information of labor, delivery and post partum management, OB-GYNE is such a fundamental branch of medicine dealing with life basics – anatomically, physiolocigally, pathologically and even in the basics of my own personal experience as a person and my destiny as woman.

In this our short experience, I owe my learning and the extension of consciousness to the doctors and most especially to the mothers who are the main characters of these stories of life.

Matters of the Heart

2007-11-14T23:33:00.000+08:00

Our neurologist lecturer once told us that the brain was the most important part of the body. It is a priority organ for oxygen and nutrients in the body. It controls bodily function. It is the temple of consciousness that enables human the ability for transcendence. And, despite its small size, some people consider it to be the seat of what it is to be human.

I do not wish to contradict the experts in this, but there are some matters that humans attend to that the brain may not comprehend.

Matter No. 1 Critical Care

One criterion for pronouncing someone dead is the loss of heart beat. In the State Hospital setting, sometimes patients come in what we call a “OGK state” (Only God Knows state) and this spells that heart beats can just disappear anytime. In the business of dying and critical care I had one experience that really stuck with me.

We were observing hospital rotation when a 17 yr. old female suffered from complications that came about during childbirth. Complications added insult to injury with an existing cardiac and metabolic condition. During her arrest, a junior intern was administering CPR and other resuscitative procedures to keep her alive but she was slipping away. Twenty minutes had gone by and still they were working on these procedures because the family was not ready to pull the plug despite the consultants’ advice to stop life support.

In this drama we were standing around her body while the junior intern was lecturing about emergency procedures.

I couldn’t help but feel dismay over the attitude towards the passage of a life. As people in the medical practice, most of us see death every day that it becomes a piece of case lifted from our textbooks. We fail to remember that he or she was once a person with family and friends who talked, laughed and cried with her. In this perspective, critical care also becomes a matter of the heart because compassion is a luxury these days that often comes with a certain price rather than handed out freely.

Matter No. 2 Cardiology

On a more personal note, I found myself encouraged to study cardiology. There’s just something in the heart and blood function that’s so fascinating to me.

At first I thought it was because I am a type 4 personality type in the Enneagram. This particular type is inclined into being unique and artistic. However, this type is also emotional in the sense that emotions are elevated beyond natural proportions such that sadness may appear as grief or depression and joy as bliss. In other words, the heart (emotional) portion of this type; my personality type coincides with the interest for cardiology.

But, more than just a confirmation from my personality type. I find cardiology interesting because of the significance of its normal functioning. In the small time that I have listened to our cardio lectures, I was amazed at the scope of effects a simple heart defect can elicit. One very small clog can have systemic effects all over the body. I am thankful to have discovered such things…(let’s leave it here for a while)

Matter No. 3 Love and Faith

One year in a relationship does go by fast. They say academics and relationships do not really mix. I admit I get easily distracted. However, this time for me is special because my academic performance for the first time is improving rather than degrading. Moreover, I am contented with the tension of not knowing (in the brain level) too much and yet knowing (in the heart level) that this is worth while. Where we go from here, from today is only toward one day more. We have one more chance to love and be loved in the midst of difficulties, confusion and uncertainty. What we have is not perfect and yet happiness comes innately.

It is comforting to know that faith always come with love. Nothing is for sure, that’s why its called faith – we can only approach it with the willingness to leap for it.

Ging, thanks and Happy Aniv!:)

BLUE LIGHT

2007-09-22T01:21:00.000+08:00

Dreaming of perfection brings darkness

because dreaming means nothing but to sleep.

If I would choose to sleep,

I’d sleep with the smile of frustration,

Bask in the joy of struggle,

Embrace the pain of bliss

and kiss goodnight the chaos of being complete.

‘Neath this blue light, light becomes dark

and Darkness comes into the light;

‘Coz I found my soul in your eyes,

discovered me in your arms

and knew love in your lips.

There’d now be silence in slumber,

Clothed within this blue light;

Lies the chiasm of ungovernable me

Captured and wrapped in unwavering you.

In Love, In Life, In God

2007-06-17T20:53:00.000+08:00

Today is June 17, 2007 and the Feast of Our Mother of Perpetual Help, thus the thanksgiving for the gift of love, life and faith.

In Love

After countless agonizing months followed by some more months of confusions and some amount of distress, I have come to a point of freedom in recognizing that I am indeed in love.

I met Regie in Medical School. He was a classmate and just so happened to be the “Kabarkada” of my ex-boyfriend from Davao. Little did I know that this unusual circumstance would become even more unusual as we started spending more time together. In the times we spent together, we found our we had a lot of things in common. Thus, in the succeeding months we became more bonded and eventually started to like each other.

Suddenly, one day we just found ourselves in love.

It was the fast series of events that agitated me although I was happy. I guess at that time I was a little confused about my true motives about coming into this relationship. Now, 7 months later, more and more everyday I get to know this person and find out that it’s not that easy and that we may have differences that I may have missed out before.

But I know, more than just these new realizations and discoveries are new opportunities for growth and for the will to truly love blossom forth. Love afterall is not all “feelings” I’d also have to chose the growth of my beloved into the best person he can be and by choosing that also choosing who he really is and accepting him for what he was, who he is and whatever he can be.

In Life

It is also timely that this is the week of my 22^nd Birthday. It is rightful that I give thanks for 22 years of life.

One of the gifts that I can give myself that will make this celebration truly meaningful is a new sense of inspiration. I ended my first year in Medicine with some frustration because of my inability to do well in my studies. However, I have also come to see that a passing grade is more of a blessing for medical students contrary to my perspective of it being a sign of mediocrity. This year, I have more things to be grateful for and therefore more things to inspire me to push on the toil not so much for the glory of the grades but for the miracle accompanying in the skills and the desire to serve.

In God

Medical studies and other distractions may have slowed me down in my prayer life. However, graces come in different forms. Recently I was informed that a friend of mine was running a site that contained prayer matter in the Ignatian format. I was also given a prayer book as an early birthday gift. This makes no excuse for allotting a few minutes of my day to the one who is the core of every thanksgiving.

Firmly, it is by His grace that all of these have unfolded in my life and thanksgiving is also a way of seeing His kingdom being built on earth. (MME)

Stethoscope in the ER

2007-05-14T21:25:00.000+08:00

No matter the chaos,

Plug your ears to hear not even silence

But to listen to life’s worth!

People come to this – a terminal

perhaps awakening only to sleep;

Or come from certain death,

slowly awakening to light.

The heart needs a listener

whenever I chose to be deaf;

turn into my tachycardic dreams so I could hear.

For in waking to the rhythm of my own beat,

I can no longer listen;

I have MY illusions I can always count on.

Listen… Listen… Listen though,

We are all in a terminal--

Always coming from an abyss,

Forever moving into the unknown.

Hospital Duty

2007-05-08T18:14:00.000+08:00

Contrary to common belief that a medical student has tons of stuff to do, I experienced this summer one thing that I thought would not be possible – boredom.

Even boredom has a cure!

Allan Brunio, our classmate had been doing volunteer work in the University Hospital as a cure to his boredom during the semestral break. This summer he asked us classmates if we would like to join him in his “service” and 16 of us agreed to go. We will be going on a two-hour hospital duty for two weeks rotating among the Pediatrics, Surgery, Medicine and Emergency Room departments.

If there was one common feeling between the 15 new volunteers, it would be uncertainty. First, we didn’t know what we were supposed to do there except maybe help the Junior Interns. Second, we received some negative responses from doctors who believed we were in no business YET to be in the hospital. And finally, we were pretty sure we didn’t have ample knowledge to carry into the hospital premises having graduated ONLY in our first year of Medical School.

Today marked the first day of this hospital duty and the feeling is still uncertain. Although it was made clear that we were here to learn from the Junior Interns, the Post Graduate Interns and the Resident Doctors, I was still very uncertain about our presence during the next two weeks.

You can never say for sure you can survive the daily scent of body fluids and xonrox as you enter into the hospital. Or stand in attention in a room of 40 patients with only 3 of you entertaining them (the ones in abundance are the student nurses reposrting to their CIs). You cannot presume to comprehend in a 35 degree room temperature ventilated by 3 ceiling fans.

In the Pedia ward, I was introduced to the “Oven” a plywood table with a roof so that the light can be attached. This served as an incubator to a 7 month old premature infant attached to a “bag” (a respirator that needed to be manually pumped – as in you hold it and pump it with your hands).

Down the hall are those kids suffering from infectious diseases. Bed 1 was for Pneumonia, Bed 2 was for Dengue, Bed 3 was for Pneumonia again and soon you’ll realize that the even bed numbers were for Dengue while the odd ones were for Pneumonia (there is no particular arrangement in the hospital, they just take the vacant beds).

To your right, we have a patient with Hydrocephalus with complications. To you left we have a patient suffering from Mitral Valve Prolapse also with complications Glomerulonephritis. The “With Complications” parts are those rarely seen in the textbook but always seen here.

In this place where the patient and the caregiver share the same bed in the service wards, you can easily see mothers suffering. Just gazing at and 8 year-old who was hit by a speeding L300 (Caticlan-Iloilo) who now cannot speak and move freely her arms and left leg.

Monitoring of Blood Pressure, Pulse Rate, Respiratory Rate and Temperature also allows you to monitor the cracks in the family and in the society as you are bombarded with stories of loss and hardship.

There are many sources of anxiety, yet there are many sources of hope, sources of excitement listening to heart and lungs sounds. In this hospital, we just have to learn to look where we intend to go, and stick to the gaze that best helps us get there.

May 8, 2007

2007-03-19T01:21:00.000+08:00

Some Spirits…

February 27, 2007

My room hears the sound of the world day in and day out. Rumbling cars in the busy highway in front of our house disrupts the cozy ambiance almost every time. I also never turn off the TV when I’m at home. The world on screen has been my constant companion. Like most modern children, I too have 2 cellphones keeping me in touch with more people constantly available for talk and discussion. I simply live in a noisy world but once in a while there are two things that speak the loudest; temptation and grace.

On Discernment

Graduating from Ateneo de Manila was an achievement. But I’d also like to think that I learned a lot of things also outside the classroom that made my college life challenging and interesting at the same time.

During the closing days of class I had come into communion with what I wanted to do with my life after my 19^th Annotation – Retreat in Daily Life. I was discerning to go into medical school and become a doctor for two basic reasons. First, the vocation in medical practice was a need for the service of the kingdom. It was also the profession that I really wanted.

With these criteria, I was pretty sure I was going down the right path.

On Hopelessness

As good as it sounds, it was not that simple. I thought taking up Comparative Anatomy as an elective in Ateneo would give me a glimpse on what I was going to be up against. To my surprise, what I counted on as experience was absolutely nothing to the reality I would be facing.

As early as the first semester, I would be facing tough times dealing with time management. I was an expert on this during my college years and for the rest of my life before Medical school but I was really doing bad this time. I also flunked one subject that would delay my graduation eventually because I was falling apart on study habits. To top it all, when I finally chose to get out of misery and try harder, nothings seemed to be going my way.

The study techniques that I had counted on my entire life were failing me. The endurance in late night work was slowly draining out in me. My spiritual high was running out and so was my hope.

Crying was a form of release but it never brought relief.

On Change

A few years back in college, my mother advised me to seek professional help as in a psychiatrist because I seemed depressed all the time. My condition only got better when I went into my Ignatian retreat.

I could see myself going down that same path again.

The temptation to give up was and is still very strong when everything seems to be going downhill. I guess this is because change is hard to deal with. It is also hard to look at yourself each day and see changes taking place. Some changes are a result of hard work and perseverance. Some changes are a result of good choices and faith. However, the other changes that I see seem to make me more bitter.

It took me a long time to realize that I was running under the fuel of revenge. When I flunked during the first semester, I swore with vengeance that I’d redeem myself. With this much angst inside me, no wonder I was getting tired for all the wrong reasons.

It also pained me to see myself in contradiction. All my life I knew I was intelligent and talented and always going for the things I want. This time, I was confronted with the reality that my performance was not good and that I was running out of steam. In a class of 75, test scores usually showed a 50% passing rate while the actual grades revealed a 100% passing rate. I belonged to group who passed without being exceptional.

This was all too depressing for me. But, unlike before I already carried something very important; a listening ear to the movements within.

On humility

It’s easy to say that I may not have what it takes after all to go through this life that I chose. It’s much harder to say I need a little more effort. I look at my great classmates and see IQ and talent and endurance and then I look at myself and turn blank. How they do it I can never tell but what I now know is that I cannot compare myself to them because this cross of unease is for me to carry and not them. I pray each day for the humility to open my eyes to what other steps I can take to win this internal battle. The evil one uses even these moments of prayer into showing me how hopeless I can become. But, I can either succumb to that or try a little bit harder.

I can look at my state now in too ways. First, it’s too late to changes study techniques or styles since I’ve already fallen and wasted an entire year trying to find the right way. Or, I can say I still have three years to try and maybe an entire lifetime thereafter. The path I wish to stay on is that path that tells me, struggle in approximation of perfection makes life worth living rather than having everything the first time and not seeing what such grace there is acknowledge that one is in struggle.

On Passion

Fr. Arrupe once said:

“Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is falling in love in quite absolute way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination will affect everything. It will decide what will make you get up in the morning; how you spend your evenings. Whom you spend you weekends; What you know breaks your heart and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love stay in love and it will decide everything.”

It’s simply amazing how I can start asking questions or how I can turn to unbelief and despair and even plunge to hopelessness but still find myself getting back at my feet. It’s amazing how I complain about the complexity of the human body that I become more captivated with the mechanism of this so called capsule that holds our spirits and souls. It amazing that no matter how I don’t want to get out in bed during the mornings, I still find myself sitting in class. It amazing how I complain I no longer have weekends because Mondays are exams days and yet I find myself flipping through books and notes. It most amazing to find my pride broken or find myself lost in struggle and still feel much stronger with every heartbreak.

Some Other things…

My life before medical school was preparation. I now realize that was not well enough and that this too, this very day of heartbreak and new found strength is a preparation too. The books do not only train us to save bodies but to improve the environment where the soul resides. I pass by this road once, and maybe once in a while in the noise of the world I forget to stop and check what this preparation is for, may I be swayed back into listening to two of the loudest voices and know their difference; temptation and grace.

2007-03-19T01:20:00.000+08:00

Questions

February 26, 2007

Why do we give up

and let go what we love

when it cannot love us back,

yet cannot give up and let go

of the dreams that may not love us back?

Why do we travel lonely hard roads?

Only to learned they were the easy ones…

Why do we spend time for mourning,

For reflection,

When we waste no time

To repeat of mistakes.

Why do we prepare an entire lifetime

For a purpose and goal,

Only to find our short and unprepared?

Why do we ask such why’s

When we know that it is

How that we should be answering?

When we succumb into the dark

Our strength ends along with our fires,

Maybe it’s just where grace begins…

2007-03-19T01:07:00.000+08:00

The Season of Love

February 9, 2006

I never quite understood the fuzz that comes with the season of Valentines. Even during the times I was in love, it was not that a big deal to me compared to my friends. Perhaps it because they say it is a time to say and show your true feelings, feelings of love and affection to the people we care for and for the people we love. And, perhaps it didn’t really stir so much in me because I was blessed with being able to speak and show love any time I wanted to.

This year however, the season of love took a different meaning for me. Since a few days ago, I started reflecting on the things I love and the things I care for in relation to my current reality as a first year medical student in West Visayas State University.

Coming Home

Coming home was rather awkward for me after having lived a very independent life in Manila. Again, I was confined to the securities of a home most especially having people worry about me when I came home late. At my age, coming home also meant that I still had to rely on my parents’ allowance while my other batch mates from Ateneo were earning for themselves.

Yet, despite these things, coming home also meant having a more practical lifestyle. For starters, the tuition fee was not as expensive as the other Medical Schools in Manila, Cebu or even Davao or Cagayan de Oro. The school was also a block away from the house. During sleepless nights, I can have someone prepare coffee for me, worry about my food and clean-up after me when I was too tired to care. Once in a while, I’d also get to help in giving modules or seminars or doing projects with mom and Tita My for GAMOT Resources, Inc.

The comforts of home posed more pros rather than cons in the decision to come home. But, was West Visayas a home?

Aside for its location and the dialect spoken in the school, West Visayas ground was uncharted territory for me. It would be my first time to study in the public school. Here, there was too much diversity that I had classmates that came from South Cotabato all the way to Benguet Mountain Province. People came from different backgrounds with different social status. It only took a few weeks before tension and cliques developed. Competition was heavy and intelligent people had always something to argue about. It also didn’t help that we were one of the fewest 1^st year batches to walk the halls of the College of Medicine.

West Visayas State University also believed in a holistic form of education. As post Graduate Students, we were “encouraged” otherwise termed required to join extracurricular activities. We had regular College of Medicine “Hinampang” that enabled students to compete not only academically but in the basketball, baseball, volleyball courts as well as in soccer, chess and in literary-musical competitions. During our university week, the 1^st year represented the college for the Annual University Cheer dance Competition. These activities were my source of sanity but were met with great opposition by out classmates who came to school to study. Although I also agree with them that studying was our primary priority, I also felt that we also had to have some sort of release activity to keep the balance of our well being. Up to this day, this problem still persists between my classmates and the key people in the system like the administration and our student council leaders.

The Only Number I Will Remember

I was rather unfamiliar with the different tensions in Med School, tensions between my classmates, some forms of passive aggression and my personal tensions as well. I was and still am concerned about this new system and curriculum that the college is undertaking – PBL or Problem Based learning. In this system, students are given ILOs or Intended Learning Objectives covering Anatomy, Physiology, Biochemistry and other subjects. Instead of semesters, we have Blocks covering the different organs systems. The most challenging part is classes are only held during the mornings and we are left to study everything we need to know for the weekly module exam, the small group discussion and Block and practical exam that make up our grades.

I was never a reader. I brain was programmed audio-visually and I remember things that I write down. Reading and studying for long hours made me sleepy most of the time. Maintaining the discipline to accomplish the required ILOs is really something that I struggled with and up to now I still am. They say it takes a certain amount of maturity to be able to do this plus dedication. I can’t say I don’t have those two things but I think I just don’t have QUITE YET the endurance for this sort of marathon.

Struggling meant that most of the times during the first semester, I would pay lesser attention to academic priorities. In short, I failed one block – Control and Integration of Movement (Anatomy of the Musculo-skeletal System).

It was the first time in my life that I got a 5.00 font sized 14 in red in a grading sheet. Wow! In my entire life I swore to myself that this is the only number in my years in medical school that I will NEVER forget. I will never forget it, so that I will never have to see it again.

Sometimes when I look back I wonder what really caused that result. I knew I had poor choices but I also knew that I suffered two weeks of the 4-week block battling typhoid fever. I wonder whether having found out about the wedding of the love of my life had something to do with it or was it just plain negligence. I also recalled my decision to go into medical school immediately was partially influenced by his apparent haste to marry and I thought if I finished early we’d have a chance. Perhaps, it was also God’s way of purifying my intentions.

Maybe it was simply a combination of it all.

Academic Adjustment

After that point, I became more wary of my choices. Yet, no matter how I tried, I couldn’t seem to lift myself. I was only passing.

Wait, “I WAS ONLY PASSING?”

Come to think of it, what else mattered in this world f mine but passing? I should even be grateful that I was passing.

It was then I realized that I was coming from the idea that I had always been on top prior to Manila. I though because this was a provincial school it would be easier than Ateneo de Manila. I was wrong. I knew I was intelligent but I was simply not performing well.

Later I realized that indeed I had the capacity to come up on top in this game. That is if I followed the ideal methodology of the PBL system of reading and reading all the free hours given to us. The idea of such drove me a little insane. I was sure that I would stop med school after my second year if I did the 10-12 hours daily reading routine, if not I’d really go insane.

I guess, as long as I retained the basic minimal information, grades or ranking wouldn’t matter that much anymore. I well being I guess still was more important than prestige.

Pride as the Strongest Motivator

Last night we had drinking session to celebrate a classmate’s birthday. In between numerous bottles of Red Horse, we were debating on the new system and worrying on how we’d fair in the Medical Board exams after. After exchanging points comparing the traditional 8-hour class type of med school and our 2-4 hour class PBL med school, we came up with the conclusion that it was more of pride that motivated us to study.

Pride because being a failure gave a negative connotation. Pride because since we were in this sort of system, it was almost implied that we had to do good in the boards to defend this system.

In our environment, you are not judged by the heart that you give into this vocation. You are judged by what you know in this line of work.

For me those two things; vocation and work are two different things.

A Dry run of Surgical and Medicine Department Duty

As a member of the Order of Asclepius, I got a change to co on surgical and medical missions. Being a 1^st year student, we would only take physical examination and interview patients on chief complaints and symptoms during medical missions to screen the hundreds of clients as to which doctor to send. I also got a chance to assist on minor operations such as cyst removal and circumcision procedures.

I enjoyed these activities and found meaning in what I do in occasions such as these.

I realized that pride was not my motivator, it was conscience.

I am no longer concerned of grades or of the prestige or respect reserved for those in high academic standing. What I was more concerned for was my accountability in heaven as a result of my practice.

In the 2 semesters that I had experience, I knew that the business of lives was no joke. Yes I was resolved that grades were not the whole world but apparently knowledge was. Knowledge in this business meant live lost or lives saved. I envision myself standing before the gates of heaven not being accounted for the good and bad things that I have done but accounted for the result of my vocation and who I had become in this vocation that affected lives and souls. With this in mind, negligence and lack of knowledge were no longer acceptable because I knew that during crucial moments, these two things can really break a doctor.

Preventive and Community Medicine

My four years in Ateneo taught me a lot about my God and my responsibility to His people. Maybe that’s also the reason why I wanted to become a doctor in the first place. This is why I was initially excited in our Preventive and Community Medicine.

This was the earliest chance in Medical School that we’d get a chance to interact with people we hope to serve in the future. However, to my disappointment this endeavor proved to be quite different from what I expected.

Preventive and Community Medicine which was supposedly an occasion for a Medical Doctor to also participate in Community Building was regarded more as a subject. What amazed me at the same time disappointed me most about our first few experiences was the lack for sincerity in what we do.

Maybe, I feel this way because I come from a bias that our underprivileged brothers and sisters should be treated with more care. I understand that people like them believe that they are poor in all aspects of society because they are poor materially. I got used to relating to them under the premise that they should be treated with respect in more ways than our regular cohorts because of their tendency to have low self esteem. Well, this is also the psychologist in me speaking.

Today, we conducted our first activity in our adopted baranggay and I couldn’t help but feel uneasy with our methods. We came to help conduct a Situational Analysis activity to aid us in further planning and implementing projects in the community. However, I sensed that we were out of line lecturing and facilitating there, giving the impression that since we were medical students we knew more things that we had to “teach” them.

There was nothing wrong with teaching, I just felt that it was given without them asking for it.

Some Things that Remain in the Dark

I believe in the goodness at which I approach things. I believe in the graces of positive outlook, the capability of reflection and the humility to admit that I am not perfect.

Perfection is something reserved for God, yet it is human being’s intrinsic capability to approximate it or come close to it despite never being able to achieve it.

My imperfections include some things that remain in the dark. I have had a lot of blessings and yet I also have a lot of things to work out. There are just times that I fail to be a good Christian, a good citizen, a good daughter, a good friend. Sometimes I choose to ignore boundaries and cross the line. There are some things that I need to resolve within myself and there are some things that need a lot of improvement. Sometimes I get tempted with the luxury of ignorance and passivity.

Life is indeed a struggle. I struggle with current realities, with preferences and choices, with people and beliefs and situations. Someone once said that God puts us in pastures where we can bloom. People just tend to look for greener ones.

I believe I am put right back smack at the things that I need to struggle with. These things have been avid companions throughout my life and I don’t believe they’ll simply vanish to prove that I can bloom. It’s specifically overcoming them that will be a testament to my blooming and hopefully that will serve as my tiny contribution in this life.

The season of love speaks not only of romantic love and the commitments and sacrifices that comes with it. This season also speaks of love as a result of a strive for transcendence or simply love and commitment as a result of searching for meaning and purpose in this borrowed time we call life.

2006-11-04T14:59:00.000+08:00

Anxiety...

Davao City, November 4, 2006

this vacation was entirely for relaxation. i came from an eventful weekend in bacolod with med buddies and celebrating my grandfather's 80th birthday before flying to davao. now my relaxing vacation is finally over and i return to my usual world - medical school.

anxieties arise - i havent seen my grades yet and i hope i get at least a decent number. if not, ow well. perhaps the thing that makes me more anxioius is my inability to get back to my usual rhythm. i believe i don't study as much as i have to and i cant seem to bring myself to rise above the situation. perhaps i've gotten so used to seeing my home during the summer that i associate it with buming around.

so what do i do now in iloilo? i bum around..

i miss the atsca retreats and how it gives me a fresh start before another sem comes in... christmas carols are now on the air and i can imagine belarmine's lights with gesu on the background. i miss manila friends and studying in coffee houses.

in this new life, i have yet to find new opportunities of personal bliss. i am hopeful that this semester will be better... somehow... i need prayers....

2006-10-24T13:49:00.000+08:00

A Medical Student’s Prayer
October 9, 2006

Lord, You know me best…
You know the deepest desires of my heart,
Even the quiet yearnings of my spirit…
It was Your calling that led me here;
in the vocation of Medical Studies.
May I never forget that it was You who called
and, that it is by grace that I answered.
By Your same grace Lord,
Keep me faithful in my daily task;
In the pursuit of knowledge
to practice with excellence.
Help my fight the temptation of mediocrity and idleness;
Help me shun the face of hopelessness and discouragement;
Rather, to strive for the work of compassion;
To allow myself to be an instrument of healing;
And most of all, to be Your servant
in the name of service and love.
May all the gifts of my mind
and the work of my hands today
be Your Work of Glory.
Amen.

2006-08-01T15:47:00.000+08:00

On Ignatius and the First Companions

Three seems to be a lucky number for me. My thesis group was composed of three unique individuals, i have two High School best friends that make up ABC (Ang-Baga-Cabatingan), i was priviledged to be part of the TRIPOD (miss ko na si Chie at Jaypee), all my family pictures are of three people; my mom, my dad and myself. i can also name a whole lot of examples in my life that has the number three as a significant part of it.

July 31, 2006 - This day was the Day of Ignatius, Faber and Xavier. Come to think of it, they too, three individuals, the first compaoions in the Society of Jesus, are very special to me.

Yesterday at mass, Fr. Archie Intengan gave a message of synergy - that we may love God and follow Him more deeply in all things just as the First Companions had done. i was deeply struck by his homily because of the things that the First Companions stood for. They were of different backgrounds and personalities, yet they were able to work together for the greater glory of God. that's true synergy!

as the stress level in medical school begins to kick up, i look into these individuals for inspiration. Xavier was a man of great energy and passion. even today 450 years after his birth, people like me look up to him.he stands for someone whose flame never dies out despite all sorts of strife. with this kind of passion, he became the perfect man to carry the torch of evangelization throughout asia. perhaps medical school is my little way of evangelization. maybe evangelization for me would come in the form of having a "countercultural course." often times i feel tempted of thinking; "why am i still studying when i can be reepeing the rewards of a career?" but, taking xavier as and example, i would not give up on my own passions so easily and settle for instant satisfaction. i know it will take me at least 5 years before i can take the board exams and get my MD. meanwhile, in this journey, i have Xavier telling me "Stick to the fight!"

Faber too comes with great significance. He has touched so many lives with his "personal approach." he saw God in all people and opened himself to them. may he too cotinue to be an example to me. i really believe that the worst disease the world has ever known is indifference or apathy. i view faber as a good doctor because he paved the way for the establishing relationships, sharing and compassion resulting in a certain kind of communion between persons that breaks the walls of indifference and apathy. i really hope i too can carry that along with me.

finally, ignatius! well what can i say? I have learned from him (through his spiritual exercises ) that when my will seeks His will, there is nothing more i can ask for. Magis meant not only doing more for Christ but also gaining more because of Christ. i still have no idea what or where his will will take me. suffice it to say that letting go and falling in love with Christ brings me more than just contentment but more importantly peace.

coming home to the celebration of the three companions' jubilee is sort of comng home to myself again. their example serve as a reminder of the virtues that i too desire to characterize my life; passion, cura personalis and complete surrender to His will. i also know that these things may sound ideal, (wish ko lang kung baga... i'm not perfect nor am i saintly like them). But, if i must dream, again i look to ignatius who kept his gaze in the stars and his constant search for something more and, i no longer despair!

2006-07-01T13:16:00.001+08:00

A Sad Story

Friends tell you some truths,
Friends can tell you mysteries,
Friends used to tell me,
I was quite the star of my love stories.

I didn’t believe them at first,
Things started a turn for worse.
My gift became a curse…

Until I learned how to love,
to actually choose to be his.
I had found the one,
My fairytale search was done.

To my surprise I had to wake.
It was a mere dream I had to make.
There were no sparks,
No singing larks,
No warm summer heat,
No excited heartbeat.

All there was, A little bit of tears,
A little bit of sorrow,
A bit of longing,
Hoping for tomorrow.

And I am once again cursed
To receive propositions of ever after.
Ever afters I am flaccid to
Endings that do not really matter…

I may be wasting my time,
Keeping myself for one who’ll never have me
This sad story’s ‘bout other people I had forgone
Because of one who just couldn’t see.

2006-06-08T18:56:00.000+08:00

Prudencia

It was one of those few moments when electrical lighting resembled the fireplace fires. Of course here in the Philippines, it is under these dim lights that we carve out permanently exquisite and most cherished intimate memories. Here’s one of mine…
My father was sharing about the time he courted my mother about twenty-six years ago. It was a love story in a place called “Prudencia.” He described himself as an outsider watching over the fence. He shared he’d ask my mother’s cousins for her because my grandfather had banned him from coming to visit. He described having hid from Lolo while attempting to talk to my mother. It was that hard for him, but as he shared, he was happy about the result. He and my mother would be celebrating their Silver Wedding Anniversary next year. Basically, his thesis for his sharing was having been so happy to be part of the family and how Prudencia at one point in time had been a witness to his acceptance in this family.
But, what was so special about Prudencia? At first glance, there was nothing extraordinary about it. It was not a well developed resort just like the other converted hacienda houses of Negros. It was a simple nature sanctuary in Ma-ao, Bago City (Where was this?) recovering from twenty years of solace.
Little did I know that Prudencia was more than just its location or demographics. Tito Butch during his own sharing told us that “Prudencia was all about relationships.” At first I thought that it was about the fading pictures of long ago and the many stories I heard from their generation about playing hide and seek at night, Tito Jobert’s diving off the balcony to the pool at dawn, horseback riding, trips to the Ma-ao Market, the dreaded initiation of future in-laws into the family or my dad’s secret visits to the place. Later I realized it was more than just these.
Canopies of trees in Prudencia bears witness to nights of playing hide and seek. If they could also tell the stories of boys versus girls playing around, climbing trees and falling off fish ponds during the 60’s, these trees would have a lot to tell. As they grew with age, so did the children, my mother’s generation including her also grew bringing with them their boyfriends and girlfriends to be initiated. The dreaded initiation rights of in-laws and the falling in and out of love by the cousins were all discussed as bedtime stories during those bonding sessions in this important place.
The swimming pool with it clear water mirrors one of the most important joys in life. This pool during the summer get-together during holy week was always filled with children’s laughter. Even those children in heart came here and enjoyed. Flowing water from mountain spring detours to the pool before reaching the sugar irrigations giving life to this “Summer Holy Week Capital.” Relaxing together with family and enjoying each others company was the meaning and life of this place. I guess this is what Tito Butch meant when he talked about Prudencia being all about relationships. It was their relationships here that were molded and formed that stayed with the people and even the place itself.
Tita Ati spent an entire year dreaming about what to pack for the trip in Prudencia. She was that excited. Like me, it was also her first time to experience the Prudencia Fever during the Holy Week. I was also excited because I would finally be a part of this festival in our family that was postponed for 22 years.
When we got to Prudencia, the place was more vibrant. There were blooming flowers, there was a new house built from the structure of the old one. There were also some additional modern day luxuries like videoke, cable, an improvised badminton court and a sound system. Of course, it would not be complete without the cards, the beer, the wine, the whiskey and the eat all you can food. And, because it was Holy Week, the chapel too had been renovated for Holy Week rituals.
This summer, it was our generations turn to fill this place with the life and the laughter it missed for twenty-two long years. We, my cousins and I spent the next four days enjoying ourselves swimming by day, playing and bonding by night underneath the star-filled sky. This was our first bonding session in a cherished place. Cousins from Manila and those from Iloilo came and got to know each other better, we re-invented water polo and added bicycling to the activities. Finally, we had our chance at contributing to more chapters in photo albums.
I am proud and happy to have been part of this, and hopefully in the future I’d have a husband who could share something equally beautiful just as my dad and other uncles had left us that last night in Prudencia.

2006-05-08T18:41:00.000+08:00

After everything, when I finally manage words, I find myself without anything to write. I don’t even know whether these words will make sense even for myself. Here’s to trying…

Maybe, this will just serve as an official announcement to my close friends who know my love story. Yes, I fell for the guy, I don’t think it was mutual because HE NOW HAS A GIRLFRIEND. So to those friends of mine who are hoping and praying like me… I’d just like to share na masakit po at naguguluhan ako sa ngayon, pero what the hell, I have to go on….

In a span of a few weeks here are two important songs that have been consoling to me during sleepless nights. Now, once again for the nth time, love for me has ended before it had even begun…

I was shattered by the fall,
Got the wind knocked out of me.
To be standing here at all,
I must be invincible,
I thought that I would break,
But now I have come to see
something strong and beautiful inside of me
I must be invincible!

- Invincible, Christian Bautista

Softly, gently I will let you down
Cause I don’t love you
in the same way now.
I can hold you but not with lover’s arms
Cause you are more of a brother to me now

And I can lay next to you
But I can’t lie to you
So walk into the sun and watch me
Run into the rain
For you the future’s easy so don’t weep
For me it’s getting steep.

I loved you for exactly who you are
And I’d say you’ve come the nearest yet by far

And I can lay next to you
But I can’t lie to you
So walk into the sun and watch me
Run into the rain
For you the future’s easy so don’t weep
For me it’s getting steeper

When in the dark that’s where I want to be
Deeper, I’m going somewhere where you won’t want to see

So walk into the sun and watch me
Run into the rain
For you the future’s easy so don’t weep
Yes I will watch you, walk into the sun and watch me
Run into the raindrops
For you the future’s easy, so don’t weep
For me it’s getting steep.

- Steep, Lauren Christy

2006-04-05T14:41:00.000+08:00

TRIP

it has been one week and a few days after graduation, and what a better way to remain in contact with memories and people of a great chapter in my life (college) than to create a blog. thanks to Nina Almeda's constant senior syndrome, i was urged to create this blog for updates....

what have i been up to lately?

Bohol:

Beautiful, clean and quite a small island, striking for a thick blanket of stars stretching across the jetblack sky for days. there are no rains there, nothing to accompany the tears of missing people. somehow, Boholanos are very friendly and they make you feel right at home at a time of transition for me, a transition of leaving behind home and at the same time coming home.

i toured Bohol and felt like Bea Alonzo in "CLose to You" although there were no Sam Milbys or John Lloyds in the company, i had a lot of fun. We went to the Philippine Tarsier, Chocolate Hills and to Loboc River. Other attractions were the Blood Compact Shrine of Sikatuna and Baclayon Church (the oldest church in the Philippines). however, i failed to go to the beaches, one of Bohol's tourist attractions. anyways, i will have something to look forward to when i come back to Bohol.

Cebu:

Thanks to Kim and Gracia, i had a little dose of the good old college days. we ended up missing nina, rica and kenneth. Kim treated us to crepes and milkshakes. (Thanks KIM!)

As for my "OTHER" comments about Cebu, here's what i have to say...

"Tonight was fine,
i enjoyed the company"...

"Am glad you did...
Regrets have you any?"

A little of YES, A dash of NO
What was brewing inside,
I wasn't ready to show.

Most of tonight, we, they
talking about his new girl,
what was I to say?

"Am grateful for the concern and the care,
thankful for the friendship..."
this stupid lie i could not bare!

for the NTH time, i had to mask
the twinkling eyes, the blood surge, forever
t'was indeed a painful task

But i have now, even if i don't have tomorrow
Regrets have i any? I think NO.
"So in my heart, there you'll stay,
Until it's time for you to go."