Reserved

No matter how toxic I may be in my current state, I always see to it that I never miss my date with my first love. Morphine knows that he’s my first “official” bf. I however emphasized that he’s not my first “love” and that I’m still not over with my first. He was just understanding enough to let me go out on a date with my first love. Let me call him JC.

When I came to this jungle, I’m just lucky enough to have found an apartment near our meeting place. Every Sunday, first Fridays of the month, whenever my schedule would allow, I meet up with JC. We would then have lunch or dinner together. It’s different to be alone with him that everytime I’m back to my place, I have this feeling of happiness and contentment. Yep! Despite of all the pressures and toxicities that I have with work.

One thing that I have observed and that I have once again proven today is that JC’s never late in our dates. There’s this spot in our meeting place that remains unoccupied no matter how filled it was. He reserves a seat for me. By the way, we hear mass together and that spot I’m referring to is a seat in the church. The spot is just so comfortable for it’s right beside the wall fan, away from noisy kids and bf-gf’s who don’t spare the church for their pda’s. I knew that it’s reserved for me for no matter how crowded the church is, and even if that 6^th seat from the door at the left of the altar is almost full, the “spot” reserved for me remains unoccupied.

JC reserves not just a seat for me in the church. For everything that’s happening to me in this jungle where I am in, I know that he too has reserved a space for me in His heart. It’s just proper for me not to forget my first love for he too never forgets me. Every time I'm in need of something or someone, JC's always there to the rescue. Every time I miss my family or Morphine, JC's there for me to talk with. Nothing beats your first love should I say.

By the way, I just would like to make things clear. I’m not in any way violating the rules of being in a committed relationship. JC and Morphine are friends. It was even JC who endorsed my heart to Morphine. I’m just too lucky to have both guys at the same time.hehehe

The Crybaby Looks Back

The crybaby once again got teary-eyed last night. Thanks to my seatmates for I was able to stop those tears from falling. For yesterday marked another milestone in my career as a physician. We had our oath taking as diplomates in my specialty. After four years of toxic residency training that did not just test my competence and knowledge as a physician but my psyche and physical capacity as well, I was finally recognized and welcomed to the world of my competent mentors.

While listening to the speakers, I was having a flashback of my life. I could remember the time when my mom reprimanded me for leaving an important document at home when we were about to enrol in a private high school in town. Little did I know that this petty memory gap would open big doors of opportunities for a young dreamer like me. If I remembered to bring that grade school report card (Yep! I forgot to bring my report card for enrolment…tee-hee!), I must have been in that school instead. So with a twist of fate, I was admitted in the high school where green abounds. Okay, I am a La Sallian at heart and I’m proud of it. I was accepted as an academic scholar and this became an impetus for me to keep reaching for that childhood dream of becoming a doctor – no matter how impossible.

Another twist of fate happened when I was about to pursue my college degree. I was already enrolled in a state university for a degree in Biology. This would however entail me of being away from my family since the school is an island away from home. After several nights of crying over this concern in secret (I did not want to let my parents know that I would want to withdraw from the university), the crybaby’s tears were wiped away. Home from the Wednesday mass, mom asked me if I would really want to be in the said university. I just answered her with my tears. These were enough to tell her that the voice she heard in her prayers during the mass was right. I am meant to stay in my hometown for college. Truly, I was once again readmitted in my alma mater as a scholar.

Choosing my medical school was another dilemma. Sending a child to medical school is no joke for a couple with no stable business. The crybaby however has this faith as big as a mustard seed in her pocket. I took a chance in another greeney school away from home. I did not want to let history repeat itself again. With a leap of faith, I left home, applied for a scholarship and was once again accepted and was able to maintain it until I graduated.

I couldn’t remember a time that I would like to quit or give up when I was studying no matter how tough times were. Yes I would cry at the end of every school year afraid that I might not be able to maintain my scholarship. These worries however were just meant to wet my eyes and add a little spice to my life.

Used to responsibilities and hardwork, eldest that I am, internship was a breeze for me. I was just surprised to see myself reviewing for the medical board exam. Finally, after passing that big hurdle in my career, I was introduced to the real world. The world of training. The world where I was able to test my competence and my capacity. The world that made me doubt my faith at times.

This blog has been witness to those whinings when I was in training. Let this blog too bear witness to my thankfulness for having survived those four looooong toxic years. Last night marked the culmination of such challenge. I was not just certified as a diplomate. I was certified as a survivor as well.

At present, I am now in another chapter of my training. Fellowship is quite harder and more difficult than the past four years. Aside of course from not being compensated for the said hardwork. I even have plans to change my heading. Due however to lack of time, poor internet connection and once again the desire to be out of the hospital everyday for the next two years, “The Doctor is Out” is still apt to represent my trash bin.

I’ve been posting my trash here. It’s just appropriate that I post something to clean up the trash by posting something light and inspirational. Something to tell the whole world that despite of the hardships and trials that we encounter in our lives, there’s always something that we should be thankful about. I guess by that time that I shall be receiving my certificate as a fellow, those tears that I kept from flowing last night will no longer hide. I might be crying buckets of it but I will no longer care. I must not be ashamed to tell the world through those tears how BLESSED AND LOVED I AM.