The Other Side of the Coin

Was talking, over a plate of strawberries and salt, with my mother this evening right after dinner. She asked me how i was doing with work. Heck! It's been several nights that i missed family dinners. My mom and i only got to meet when i kiss her goodbye before i leave for work. I may always be whining about how toxic my work is, but she was wondering why i am gaining weight and my looks dont even show how toxic i am.

I shared once again my never ending story on how fulfilled i am with my work. Yep! No matter how toxic i get, and no matter how i lambast my profession in this blog when i experience my monthly pms. I really am happy...an understatement actually, make it fulfilled. I am really fulfilled with my work. If there is one area in this whole wide world where fulfillment can be found, it's inside this crap hospital i am in. The place of the sick, the poor and the dying yet also the place where blessings, miracle and charity overflow.

Everyday, as i witness the lives of my patients and their families, i am inspired even more to stay in this institution. When the trend right now is the efflux of health workers and shifting of my colleagues to the nursing profession, i am more convinced that i made the right choice of being in residency training. Compensation wise, i may be underpaid compared with those who are working abroad. I am more blessed however than my friends who are training in Manila. They are more underpaid than i am. A meager salary is already enough for an individual like me who supports only myself in this small city. Actually, i still could save for some foot spa, hot oils and coffee and malling sessions.

I may be too toxic with the number of patients that i handle. These patients however are my teachers. Even an abandoned patient who came in at the emergency room with no companion, is my guru. This patient has a lot to teach me about his disease and about life as a whole. I am more blessed than my colleagues who are working in a private hospital. Their compensation might equal their load, yet they lack teachers that we are too blessed to have.

I may always get heartbroken because of the fate that my patients experience. I may cry over the death of my patient, emphatize with the poverty that they are experiencing, or join them in their loss. I could tell however that i was never pathetic - yep! even if i'll fill my posts with my rantings. I am doing my part and i am helping in one way or another, in alleviating the ills not just of my patients but my society as a whole. I am saving lives.

Yep! I am saving lives. I may be losing my own life but i am saving lives. Forget those malling, parlor or coffee sessions. Forget those reunions, dates, or family dinners. Every sacrifice that i do would also mean saving not just one but several lives. This is the fulfillment that i get from opting to stay in this crap institution. It's the feeling that you are dying for yourself and the awareness that you are letting others live.

Heartbroken

If hearts do literally get broken, mine would be in the most powdered form. My heart breaks when someone cries in front of me much more if he is a guy. I encounter this situation almost everyday in the hospital. I sometimes am tempted to think that i always put people to tears for everytime i talk with a patient or a patient's relative, he or she will breakdown in front of me. Yep! no matter what kind of news im bringing - good or bad, i witness them cry.

From my last 24-hour duty, i had my heart broken once again for the nth time. A patient's husband talked to me about his patient's situation and he was in tears. Imagine a huge man who looks like a hoodlum, crying. He was so helpless and so was i. I could feel the pain, the helplessness, the love that he feels towards his wife. Mixed emotions. Very strong as his looks. As big as his built.

Goodness! If i only have the resources, if i only have the capacity to heal these patients even without medications, i would be able to prevent these big men from crying like a baby. In other words, i wouldnt just be able to help them but i could also prevent my heart from getting broken. Funny though how i wish i could be like a god at times. Changing a person's fate in a click of my fingers.

Good thing i am not God. I may not be able to comprehend why he lets these things to happen. You know, letting us experience pain. Letting us cry. The only thing that i feel comfortable about is that like me, He too is heartbroken everytime he sees us in pain (right Big Dad?) If i, a human being, not even related by blood to my patients gets heartbroken everytime i witness them crying, how much more will God's heart get broken when He's our sole creator?

Yep! I am heartbroken everytime i witness someone crying. Ive been scarred several times. These scars however remind me never to get scared. I am assured that everytime my heart gets broken, Someone, that big guy upstairs, is once again willing to put them back into whole.

When My Sun Turns To Set

sunsetathome
Originally uploaded by celestelyn.

A repost from my written journal dated January 8, 2000. A good read during this time that i am experiencing toxicity. Aaah, cant wait for my dream vacation to come when this month ends.


The coolness of the late afternoon seabreeze gave me a good sense of well-being. While seated on the cool white sand, i waited for the sun to set. It was as though the waves were more impatient than i am in waiting for the sunset as they noisily ruffled against the rock formations.

The once blindling light turned dim. Pastel colors of light with shades of yellow, red and blue filled the sky. In a few minutes, that event that i've been waiting for will begin its course. There it was, all red and round, moving towards the horizon. Such a lovely sight, serene, peaceful and comforting.

Everytime i remember this experience from a beach in Guimaras one summer, i always feel refreshed despite of the toxicity of medlife that i am now facing. It made me remember how blessed i am to have been in that place. For four days, i waited every single afternoon for this sight to unfold before my eyes.

The sunset has never tired of leaving me amazed. In fact, this is my favorite aura and time of the day. For some, it's a sign of the end, or the start of dark nights and experiences. Sign of hopelessness, despair and tears. For me, it's a sign of hope, of humility, blessedness and love.

A sign of hope. It doesnt mean that the day has ended. It only means that it's now time to take a break and have my strength renewed. Renewed and refreshed to once again face the trials that would come my way for the morning after. It gives me hope that after facing the trials that i have experienced for the day, i'll have a time to unwind and to reload in order to face them again with courage and faith.

A sign of humility. From a pedestal that i cant even look at it because of its blinding light, the sun took some effort to come down in my level for me to see it well. Like the sun, God who is all-powerful and almighty humbled himself by sending His son to live and be with us. A manifestation of God in the midst of man.

A sign of blessedness. As the sun sets on the horizon to signify the end of the day, it reminds me to count all the blessings that i have received throughout the day. In fact, though i consider my day to be the worst, i realized that blessings continue to pour - they were just marked by my feelings of discontentment and hurt.

A sign of love. Yes, a sunset depicts somewhat a romantic aura. It makes me think that it would be better to spend it with a loved-one right beside me. The love that it signifies though is more than romantic. It's a kind of love that someone so high has to go down for a loved one. A kind of love that God humbled himself to become man to die for my sinfulness.

A sunset never fails to amaze me. It's not just a beautiful sight. It reminds me of how special, blessed and loved i am. I hope that through this realization, i too had given hope to a crushed spirit, humbled myself for a neglected soul, and shared my love to a dying heart. All these i've accomplished when my sun turns to set.

Back from a Break

Image(1063)
Originally uploaded by celestelyn.

Well, ive been away from the cyberworld for quite some time that checking on my mails and updating my blog first came into mind as soon as i entered my room. It's really great to be away from work even for just a day. My energy level's now again to the maximum, creative juices refilled, enthusiasm's regained and love of my work's rekindled.

Just came home from B...Cebu (the old pldt commercial...familiar?) A drug company-sponsored trip and activity made me feel like a foreigner in my own country. Everything's well catered and taken good care of, from our plane trip to cebu and back to bacolod. The longest from duty and weekend i ever had without the stress. I might have tired myself from travelling yet i felt lighter and more ready for another duty tomorrow.

I just love travelling. I feel the excitement of being in a new place, meeting new people and comparing sunsets(they don't differ much actually...all sunsets are simply amazing). I love taking photos and obviously, my favorite subjects are the inanimates...still life as photography would define it. Well, what can i say? I just did two of the interests i missed doing...travelling and taking pictures!

Alright, im back to reality. I just cant help but be thankful to the ONE who plans my life. Another colorful piece was added to my life's puzzle.

Finding My Purpose

I've been whining and ranting about my current state all along in this blog alright. For once, let me give justice to the profession and state of life that in the first place, i chose and learned to love. My rantings could just be the result of my toxicity. (why the hell can't i be benign sometimes?) I still could say however that i have made the right decision and that i am in the right profession - a doctor, a healer.

The even that happened this morning affirmed what i feel tonight. I have been witness to a lot of deaths. I saw how the family of my dead patients grieved. I heard their cries, i heard their screams. I felt how hard it was for them to accept the loss of a loved one. This morning however, i found my purpose. Goodness! After almost two years in residency training, it was just this morning that i was able to convice myself of the role that i've got to play. I am a doctor, not just a comforter of the sick. I am a doctor, a comforter of the dying and the loved ones that they're leaving behind.

A toxic patient of mine died this morning. This death however was quite different compared with the ones i previously witnessed. First, i had a hard time intubating him yesterday. That was the most difficult and the most memorable intubation i've ever done (save for the one i did to my own uncle). Thanks to those false teeth he has been wearing all along while he was in the hospital. That crap really took me almost 30 minutes just to remove it before i could intubate. After a pair of tore gloves, thousands of drops of perspiration, several finger bites, different positioning, i was able to remove those precious dentures.

Second, his family was the most understanding and open-minded kind. His mother was hysterical at first when he got toxic but she calmed down when i started talking to her. I could feel the pain of a mother towards her son who's slowly drifting away. I could feel the bond in their family. Bond of support to the patient, bond of support towards the living family members.

Lastly, this morning when he passed away, his mother hugged me so tight, crying. The warmest hug i felt from almost a stranger. She lost her son yet she was so thankful for all my help. She was crying, yet there was acceptance. She lost a loved one, she was in tears, yet it was i who felt the comfort on the contrary. Hugging her back, returning the comfort she was giving me, i felt peace, i felt acceptance. The day she accepted her son's death, is also the day that i fully accepted my role. It was through this death of a patient when i started to find purpose in my routine, boring work.

Yep! I am not here in this crap, government hospital just to train. I am not here just to help and serve the sick and the poor. I am here to bring comfort, not just to my patients, but to their relatives as well. Looking back, this was what ive been wanting to do. I might have been lost along the way but hey, the great architect really has great plans to bring me back to place. I wish though that it would not take another life to remind me of my real purpose in this crap, yet miracle-full hospital that i am in.

B...Cebu?

I already accepted the fact that before i entered residency training, i would be deprived of what most people call as "breaks." Break from the routine everyday visits to the sick and dying, break from the daily mind boggling quest for diagnosis and treatment, or break from the 24-hour duties. It has been more than a year now after my last off from work. Hearing however from our chairman that i am allowed to go to CEBU brought happiness i could never contain.

Yep! for the next weekend, i'll be in B...Cebu! I'll be staying just overnight but the fact that i'll be in another dimension and another place is a very BIG deal for me. It may just be overnight but finding myself in a plane bound to another place brought excitement to my routine, boring life. If i'll be given the chance to revise something in every residency training program, i'll see to it that a resident is given a chance to have, even just one day in a month, a break away from the hospital. Believe me, noone will ever get burnt-out. A break for the resident will also mean benefit for the patients for the quality of care that this resident could extend.

I dont know if this is applicable to other residents but for me, this is one hell of a detoxifying measure. Alright, never mind this future plan. All i know is that this weekend, ill be having this Big B....B for break in B...Cebu! Hopefully when i come back, i wouldnt be whining in this blogsite at all.=)

The PRAYING Therapy

Heard mass this afternoon before i went home. Things have been quite toxic these past few days (obvious with my past post) that i feel the need for peace and quiet. As a routine, whenever im early for the 5:30 mass, i drop by the adoration chapel to pay "Him" a visit. The experiece i had with "Him" was quite different this afternoon compared with my previous visits. We talked, i listened more now. Not the usual talks we had that i almost do the talking. I whined, complained, asked, begged, wished, i dominated the conversations before most of the time. Maybe i was just too saturated with work, too tired of life's challenges, too confident with myself that i could do things on my own now. This afternoon was different. I remained silent and listened to Him.


There's a different calmness now within. This week's been too cruel for me. Physically and emotionally, i was really challenged. Just as how toxic and chaotic my previous duties were, so as stormy my heart was. There's this pressure within me that just wanted to blow up. Work's really killing me slowly. Life became a constant struggle everyday as it became a routine for me. I seemed to have lost focus on what i can do, what i could offer, and what i was bound to do.

Witnessing a dying patient's family this morning however calmed the storm within. Maybe it's "His" way again to talk to me. I have been keeping deaf ears on "Him" lately. Though im used to seeing grieving families of the dying patient, i didnt realize that i still am vulnerable to feel their pains.

She was just in her early 20's. On her first pregnancy her baby died in her womb. It took several days before this was found out. She just had her labor pains, at the same time jaundiced and febrile - signs of sepsis coming from within, and delivered to a lifeless baby. The baby could have been in the state of decomposition and the toxins produced in this process were slowly pulling her to grave.

Her family, just like majority of our patients belonged to the marginalized. The kind who lives in the present for tomorrow's never assured because of poverty. She needed antibiotics - strong and yes, expensive ones. If they could barely buy their own food to fill their stomachs, what more the medications she needed. Her mother was all tears begging me to help them. I was helpless for I could only offer my knowledge in treating their patient so i thought. I asked them to ask assistance from the social welfare. She came back disappointed. "Doc, anong himuon ko? Indi ko kabalo kung maano na lang ko. Wala na gid kami kwarta." (What will i do, doc? I dont know what im going to do. We really have no money doc.)

I was silenced. Her concerns hit me. Here i am, complaining about my work, my meager salary, inhuman working conditions, yet here's this mother with a dying daughter, penniless, more helpless than i am in the "storm" she's currently experiencing. My senior accompanied her to the office of the social welfare. She was finally given medications they needed for at least three days.

I feel for her. Why was she denied of help on her first visit with the social welfare? How many of them live in this kind of situation in our country? Uneducated, penniless, helpless, confused, unfairly treated? How many of them die in our hospital because they dont have money to buy medications? The experience calmed my storm within. THEY were the reasons in the first place why i am here in this institution, in this profession. I am here to help, to SAVE LIVES...no matter what.

The experience brought me back to the road i was before taking. I was lost. I lost hope in the crap government and health system we have. Lost confidence in myself that i could do much to a number of people needing my services. Almost lost my faith in "Him" for allowing these things to happen to them.

My experience this morning helped me find my purpose again. Yep! I was reminded why i am here. I was reminded of the part that i have to play in this drama of life. I am not just a mere supporting character. I've got a big role to play when i assumed the profession of being a physician. I was reminded how blessed and loved i am. These are enough to calm the storm within. These are enough to silence me. In my visit with "Him" this afternoon, all i could utter was my sincere "Thank you." We shifted roles. He talked, i listened. I didnt know that listening to "Him" was more comforting than ranting, complaining and whining and yep! SWEARING. Swearing (even in the confines of my gray matter alone) devoids me of energy, further stirs the storm within and keeps me at a loss.

Now i discovered another therapy to help me survive life. It's as simple as 1-2-3. As simple as sitting still, keeping quiet, and listening to the voice within. This is what i call as my PRAYING therapy. Goodness, after a long time i once again made a "real" prayer.

The SWEAR Therapy

Heck! I'm into this "too-tired-to-rest mode" again! You see, accreditation's over! After several days of preparation, a day-before panic, and the d-day toxicity, i really can't help but S-W-E-A-R just to unload all these pressures, tiredness, and sentiments.

I really see to it not to swear in public. Not proper for a lady as mom would have it. Lady? Me? Nuh-uh! If i dont do it consciously, it doesnt mean though that im not doing it UNconsciously. This is just the right time to let those, BU&*%$#@! *bleep* fu#8%*#$ *bleep* crap! darn! damn! *bleep* complete with "lightning" and everything, OUT! For today's just the best example of a "mapapaMURA ka sa katoxican" duty.

I am TOOOOO tired. Tooooo tired that the only parts of my body that are basically active right now are my fingertips and brain. I have to literally drag myself to the bathroom to take a bath. Fact is, i didnt want to take a bath for i just wanted to rest my body and take some sleep. Knowing however that the only places in the hospital i didnt made rounds with tonight are the PEDIA WARD and the MORGUE, made me think that i harbored more than 100 trillion of microbes that i could literally call myself a walking "microbe" if i dont take a bath. My body just wanted to rest and sleep but my brain kept on telling me to blog...blog...blog...now this post explains itself and my being awake still, explains how stubborn this brain of mine really is.

Blame it all to caffeine! Had several doses of it today, from coffee to iced tea to cola, just so to keep myself awake and active. Obviously, i didnt have enough sleep since the other night. Have to wake up very early today, about 2 hours before my usual waking time! Which explains my cranky and grumpy mood. Enumerating all the events that provoked me to *bleep* and *bleep*...

1. I slept early last night. Yep! Early in the MORNING! I was writing overtime the entries into my patient's logbook. The logbook's needed for the accreditation...as what they've said. I know, i know. Should have done this earlier like months or weeks before maybe. I did! Errr,our househelp did i mean. I asked her to copy all my patient's census into the logbook and boy, when i checked them...obviously, what can i expect? I get a PNEUMOTHOROY instead of pneumothoRAX, SEIZY instead of seizURE, ACUTE GANTITIS instead of acute gaSTRITIS for the diagnoses. Instead of correcting the errors, i rewrote everything! Catch is, after finishing the logbooks, the accreditors didnt even lay a single finger over it. What the *bleep*!

2. When the accreditors came to the ER, i only had 3 patients lying on a "covered" bed. Meaning our beds at the ER had linens...too white linens...too obvious that they were used first time! The accreditors stayed at the ER for just 10 minutes or so, just a few inspections and questions and they're gone. When they left though, a baranggay of patients came complete with a patient who needed to be intubated. I was left ALONE in the battlefield, admitting loads of patients therafter. Then came ward referrals. All wards from OB, Ortho to Surgery and ENT were referring to me for co-management. An example of "WHEN IT RAINS, IT POURS!" Before, i wished that i could make a clone of myself in as easy as 1-2-3. Today, i just wish that i could make myself invisible instead of having a clone.

3. At long last i was able to take my lunch at 1pm. I mean supposed to be lunch. Had several spoonfuls when i received another referral from the emergency room. In short, wasnt able to finish my lunch. Continuation was at 5 in the afternoon when i have to contend myself with whatever food that was available. Was supposed to have dinner at 12pm. Supposed for i didnt eat my dinner. I'm not into stewed fish and crabs and our helper knows this. Why the hell did she send me such menu? *bleep*! Alright, for dinner, i had a banana and jackfruit instead. If they were only made into a banana-langka pie, should have been better. This is a perfect example of losing weight...and gaining peptic ulcers!

4. Was able to finish answering interdepartmental referrals before 12. I now have a time to finally give myself some sleep - a power nap while on duty. Ironic though but im still in front of this tube posting this blog. Havent yawned a single moment. Too tired but never sleepy. I was looking for rest but now that i am given the time, i seem not to need it anymore. Heck! *bleep*!

Now that i've *bleeped*! too much, i'm starting to feel sleepy now. This is me! An ENERGY-CONSERVIST. Meaning, I'm not used to getting angry and i dont express my anger verbally - i keep quiet and deal with it most of the time. For when i get angry, express it verbally and in this case swear too much (of course, in the confines of my gray matter), I LOSE ALL MY ENERGY. This is what this blog is for - to let me lose all this energy in order for me to finally sleep. When i'm in this "too-tired-to-rest mode", this is my therapy and this is what i call, the SWEAR THERAPY!




"googling" the pic i wanted...i came into this ON-LINE HEAVEN RESOURCE.=)

Another PMS Attack

I dont know if i should feel guilty for feeling this. It has been quite some time that i could feel that im wearing a mask in front of my patients. For my patients, i am doctor nice. Someone who's kind and approachable. I never raised a voice on anyone and was never bitchy towards them. No matter in what state i am in, state of self-induced depression or pre-menstrual syndrome, i am always at my maximum tolerance when i am on duty or when i am in front of my patients.

Just got home from my daily hospital rounds. Honestly, i was having a hard time from getting out of bed this morning. Not just this morning actually but every morning to be exact. Should i get out of bed, fix myself and report to the hospital, pictures of the sick and dying would once again welcome me. Im sick and tired of meeting them everyday of my life. When im at home, i would wish that i am not a doctor. I dont wish to see a patient and i dont want to hear consultations. I just want to shut my ears and my eyes from life's realities that all my life, i'm doomed to seeing the sick, the dying and the dead.

Yep! I am hiding behind a mask. Amazing though how i could act to be the Doctor Nice that most people think of me when truth is, i seem not to be loving what i am doing at all. Amazing how i could survive one duty to another. All i know is that when i am a civilian, that is, im outside of the hospital and pretending to be not a doctor, i hate to see patients and i dread to be in the hospital. When im in the work-mode though, i feel that i love everything that i am doing. Ironic but the same people who makes me sick and tired and burnt out, my patients to be more specific, are also the ones who inspire me and keep me going.

Geez! This is pure toxicity superimposed with my monthly pms. In times like this, i just wish that im invisible and im exposed not to a single human being. Thinking of happy thoughts, i could see myself in an isolated island, all alone by myself, no cellphone, no internet access, relaxing on a hammock, watching the sun set and enjoying a refreshing drink. Ahhhh life! I just cant wait for summer to come.

No Regrets

Shucks! I'm pressing my panic button on. Have to wake up this early (3:30 am for the record) just so i would be able to finish my report for this Thursday. I'm quite wasted yesterday for aside from being from duty, went home late from dining out. Geez, i never realized how populated Bacolod already is not until i witnessed traffic in Lacson Street at 8 pm (the street's quite deserted already on ordinary nights), and oh not to mention having a difficulty looking for a restaurant and a parking in the restaurant we finally dined in. Everyone in town might have celebrated yesterday and so was i.=P

I never realized how things would turn out earlier than expected. Twas just last Sunday when i wanted my old heart back and the Big Guy upstairs granted such request faster than the speed of my internet connection. I realized that i still have that old heart of mine. Fact is, i just forgot to clean up some trash that kept filing up that my heart was drowned in it. Have to dive in there and look for that scarred heart i have been wanting all along. Phew! After some soul searching, i mean heart searching, i found it again. Tsk, tsk, it really was scarred. Scarred but beautiful. (sounds familiar?)

As early as 12 midnight of hearts' day, things that have happened helped me find my scarred heart back. I guess i need not enumerate those things. In the end, i just realized that no matter how tough and painful those decisions and actions that ive committed in the past, i must live in the present with no regrets. For there really are no wrong decisions - you just have to be responsible for what you believed in, take its consequences, and live by it.

Finally, i was able to convince myself that i am in the right state of life, the right profession, the right hospital, and the right training program. I have been ranting and whining all along in this blogsite about my choices in life but something happened yesterday that assured me to keep on going no matter how blurred this course im taking. Something that's going to change my so called "lifeplan" for the next 3 years.

Alright, aside from "living life with no expectations," should i add that for one to be happy, there must be "No Regrets."

Scarred

Just got home from mass. It's been quite some time that going to mass doesnt move me at all. It became more as an obligation for me. If not for my brother and sister's prodding, i would have wanted to stay in bed instead. Sunday's usually a rest day for me when i am not on duty. I dont know whether this is because of my toxicity. Work has consumed most of my energy for the week that i always end up burnt-out, tired and almost lifeless on Sundays. Not going to mass however, would usually make me guilty. After all the blessings that i have been receiving in my life, an hour of thanking Him for what He has done is not even enough. I dont want to go to mass however just so i would be free from guilt. I wanted to hear mass with my whole heart and feel something in it.

I dont know how to put it. I also dont understand what this state i am in. This could be what most people call as "spiritual dryness." I have never been in this state not until i started residency training. Fact is, most people i know find me very religious. Some close friends even consider me as an aspirant for sainthood or nunnery. I didnt just go to mass during Sundays but Wednesdays and Fridays included given the time. Things have changed now. It seems as if i'm living my life every day as a routine. Sundays, that for me was so special before for it's the time that i could once again hear his word, no longer makes sense for me. I have yet to hear homilies that would move me, would strike me and leave me in tears now.

Maybe i just needed a break. The drama, deaths, sickness that i witness everyday of my life almost made me numb. My coping mechanism of detaching myself from the fate and deaths of my patients also detached me from my innerself. I could no longer get in touch with my emotions. I have become a stranger to myself. I have become more mechanical and intellectual - working only with my hands and mind, no heart included.

Aargh! Where's my heart? Might have lost it somewhere. But no, i could still feel it beating but i dont think that it still functions at all or it's still the same heart that i own. I remembered during my most painful moment that i asked God to take my heart away. I have been too sensitive that i almost feel for everything, for everyone to the point that i almost fell into depression. Witnessing the poor plight of my patients and their families' fate, a love lost, quite inhuman working condition, meeting difficult people, and the country's current condition, my heart got tired and weary. It almost got broken but my coping mechanisms patched it into whole still. Quite ugly, scarred, almost broken, beating still to give me life.

Now i realized how God could be so faithful. He heard my prayer. He might have took my heart away and could have replaced it with another. Something stronger, newer, smooth, unscathed. This heart however feels nothing. Too cold, too numb. Just as how cold my heart is, so as how dry my tear ducts are. I wanted to be back to my old self again. I really feel uncomfortable wearing this new heart.

Never mind the pain. Need not hold back the tears. I wanted to feel something again. I just wanted to feel Him in my life again. "Big Dad, I know you've been there all along. No matter how scarred that old heart of mine was, i still would prefer to have it than having this heart, feeling so inhuman. Oh by the way, thanks so much for loving me. Spoiled brat that i am, you answer my every prayer. Wisest that you are however, you know how to teach me lessons i need to remember. Happy V-day, Daddy!"


p.s.
While looking for broken heart pic, check out what i came across into. Now, God must be talking to me even online! Cool!

Lifting Up

I may be toxic with work but i always see to it not to be left behind when it comes to the recent events in the country. A few days ago, the tragedy that resulted from a supposed to be noontime show's 1st year anniversary, struck a number of neurons in my head. What's happening with our country now? The tragedy wouldnt have happened if not for a number of Filipinos who have been wanting to earn a few bucks. Was it already a sign that the Filipinos are really going hungry? I ran through an article that reviewed the different events when stampede occurred and killed hundreds of people for the past two years. Sad to say, most of these stampedes occurred secondary to a pilgrimage, a concert or a sports event, while the one that happened here in the country was due to the prizes that the noontime show offered.

A colleague texted me how she was saddened by the plight of the Filipinos. I was on the other hand dealing with a difficult patient when i received her text. Not only that, a few minutes ago, i was disappointed with an older colleague who isnt aware of the word "ethics." You know the kind of thing that an older colleague would degrade the younger ones and make them appear as nonsense quacks to the patients. As a result, i started to question myself why i remained stuck in this institution, in this country. As a reply, i jokingly told her that we must leave this crap hospital, this pathetic country and instead go abroad, serve other nationalities where we could earn more bucks and where our efforts will be appreciated. I was already expecting what her reply would be. Here's one of the quotable quotes that i hope would also lift some dampened spirits like mine.

"I disagree. Dats exactly y we are where we are nw cel, because we have realized dat da rest of the world doesnt nid us. We dnt nid to do tremendous or extraordinary work elsewhere, when we have so much work to do in our own country. SERVICE TO DA POOR, DATS OUR LIFE AND OUR HEART CEL."

Well, what can i say? Just when things are pulling me down the drain, there would always be people who in one way or another would lift me up and keep me going.

I Failed

Four days after that eventfully duty, the duty when my patience was tested to its fullest, i'm already in this process of internalizing everything that had happened. Everything really happens for a reason. That fateful night of February 1, i realized that my "maximum" tolerance really wasnt in its maximum yet. If it was, then i wouldnt have found myself arguing with that woman i gave name to (alright, the one i called "bitch" in my last blog).

Seriously, i must be thankful to her. Through her, i was able to once again reevaluate myself and my tolerance level. I might have failed the test, with her as the instrument, but then that test would help me in dealing other people in the future. I believe that i have to speak up and to defend myself, but then in retrospect, i should have lengthened my patience even more.

I'm still in the process of knowing who the bitch was. I already knew her first name as of this blogtime. Actually, I have no plans of retaliating or whatsoever. I just would like to stop calling her names. I owe her my gratitude - for testing my patience and for letting me reevaluate myself. I have to know her name for it wouldnt sound good if i'll once again say, "Thanks for everything, Bitch!"

Adding Insult to Injury

Just when i've been whining how burnt out i am with work, the final straw was drawn. Tonight, for the FIRST TIME in my RESIDENCY TRAINING HISTORY, i had a verbal argument with a patient's folk. Funny however for the patient isnt even under my service but that of the Department of Pediatrics.

Quite a long story but it started with one of the patient's folks, a girl in her early twenties, with dyed hair, bleached skin and uhmmm (i'm looking for words to describe her outfit), "trying-to-fit- in" looks. Well, im not a fashionista but how will i describe someone wearing those low-rise jogging pants with a word i forgot, in bold letters at the butt area? Not to mention the cap she was wearing while inside the emergency room. Hello! Is it raining? Ok, this girl seemed to be calling at me in my peripheral vision. I didnt pay her any attention for in the first place, i dont have anything to do with her. Her patient is a pediatric and i am for the oldies. Anyhow, this girl's too toxic that not even the doctor assigned to her patient paid her attention. I was the only one who looked vacant for her (just answered a phone call) that she raised her voice, calling me, to the point that she was sounding sarcastic and she even called me MISS! I seemed to have snapped back at her asking her back whom she was addressing to. She was referring to me she answered and i referred her to the nurses and to her attending physician.

Everything's almost ok when there's thisBIG BITCH beside her who butt in. I was in no way addressing to her and i dont know which school of manners she attended to but she just entered the scene. In the end, it was the big bitch and i who had the argument. She was accusing me to the point that i have no other choice but to fight back.

#1. She told me that if i am pressured with my work, then i must not displace it to my patients or other people.
#2. She's a nurse at a private hospital here (the hell i care!)
#3. They don't treat their patients in their hospital rudely
#4. She was questioning my action for it was unlikely for a "professional".

She was brought outside the ER and from there, i still could hear her blabbing and ranting. I was really angry. Best actress that i am however, i was able to attend to some of my patients still "professionally." Knowing that she hasnt kept quiet yet, i went out and approached her with the intention of talking to her in a civilized manner. The bitch that she is i guess however, i felt that talking with her would be futile. She was so unreasonable, closed-minded and goodness, a word from me was equivalent to 2 paragraphs on her part.

What really made me angry were her prejudice towards the government hospital that i am working in, and towards us, government doctors. If given the chance though, i will answer her premises, one by one. Good thing, there's this blog where i could pour out everything that i wanted to get rid from my system.

To the ER bitch, let me tell you this. I understand what you feel. Knowing that you work in a private hospital made you ashamed being seen in this government hospital i am working in. If you're proud of your hospital, why didnt you bring your patient there then? Oh by the way, let me answer your accusations. Fact is, i dont feel the need to really explain myself. I know myself better than you do. I just dont want to go down to your level however that these words remained in the confines of my white matter.

#1. I am not pressured by my work. Being a toxic resident, i was faced with a lot of patients at the ER yet i couldnt remember a time that i argued with any one of them because i was irritated by my toxicity. My tolerance level is always at the maximum level but IT'S ONLY YOU who filled it to the limits. Your arrogance, unprofessionalism and odd behavior made me feel proud of my patients from the far flung mountains of Negros. At least, even if most of them arent that literate, they know the value of RESPECT.

#2. & #3. Do you know why you should treat your patients well in your hospital? Because they are paying you. Fact is, i am never rude in treating my patients. It doesnt matter what class they belong in this society we are in for i am fare in my treatment. It is given that the government pays me for the services im rendering to its people and i could say this to your face that what the government pays me is not enough. In fact, a large fraction of my meager salary goes back to the government as tax. If i worked in this government hospital for the purpose of earning, i should have left this crap hospital long time ago and searched for greener pastures. I worked here to serve the less fortunates and not to be stepped upon by an arrogant bitch like you.

#4. Why the hell! Is a nurse not a professional? Hey there RN friends, someone from your league doesnt consider you as professionals. Sad to say, it might have been your discreet way of saying that you're the ONLY one who isn't. One other thing, poor nursing students, i didnt know that you're a a CLINICAL INSTRUCTOR! What example are you teaching your students then ma'am, may i ask? I just hope they won't end up like you.

This bitch i encountered tonight, the very first person who drew the final straw, added insult to my already injured ego: burning out and too saturated with work, depressed with the way the government treats our health system, and hurt by the prejudice that other doctors (who are supposed to be my colleagues) have towards government doctors.

I might not have ran out of good coping mechanisms yet. The more that my ego gets wounded, the faster it heals. After doing this blog, it seemed as if my anger towards the bitch, that i'm actually pouring into this blog, took all my heavy load away. Everything really happens for a purpose. So, should i say instead,"THANKS BITCH!"

Burning Out...Staying Alive

People say that I've got a good coping mechanism. I really don't know why they're telling me such. All i know right now is that i'm running out of that "good coping mechanism" they're telling me i possessed. As of this time, i could feel myself burning out. Too much work to do, too little time to do them. Ah yeah! Too little time? How come i could post this blog? Not doing this thing would mean that i'm too cruel with myself.

Yesterday, i'm talking with a very close friend. We talked about our lives, reflecting on our choice of profession. Why on earth did we become doctors? He was depressed with his current state, and i too feel that i'm falling into that deep pit again. He was so concerned with his future, i am too absorbed with my tomorrows. For every tomorrow would mean work for me - obligation, responsibility, whatever you call it. Every tomorrow would mean interaction with the sick, the dying, the hopeless, the oppressed, the depressed. In other words, another interaction with people who are sucking out all the positive energy in me...and they're slowly killing me.

After this residency training, after these hardships, what's next? Another journey to another chapter of the jungle of life. Where competition is to the neck, the quest for success is to the brim. A new world where new doctors would have difficulty surviving. Is this training worth all my hardships then? Will this training prepare me in facing the "open sea"? The sea where big doctors (some of whom already became nurses) are like predators preying on potential patients in order to earn. Everything's as dark for me as the starless night. It seems as if im working everyday of my life without any assurance of a bright future. With the way our government is running, with all the corruption and politickings, there surely is no way that young doctors like us could survive the "open sea."

I realized that it isnt just me who's feeling burnt out. I seem to have lost all inspiration to keep on going. The influx and load of patients, meager salary, great responsibility, too much work, and after talking with my friend, our dim future, who would feel great and inspired?

We asked ourselves,"Why did we become doctors"? The difficulties and hardships of clerkships are really just a start of greater challenges of this profession i chose. Maybe we were just stupid enough, we deduced, that's why we are here. Maybe we were just idealistic morons who were thinking that we could help alleviate the ills of human race. Maybe be were just selfish individuals who thinks that we will feel gratified saving a life from death. Maybe we were just religious spirits who were thinking that God called us to this profession in order to fulfill our role on earth.

In the end, we concluded that we just have to hang on. To keep on going, to finish what we have started. We still are those stupid and selfish individuals, the religious and idealistic morons - only burnt out. There's no way however that we'll pass that bitter pill we have to take. Everything happens for a purpose and there's no way we couldnt get through this. No matter how difficult our lives are right now, no matter how dim our future look, we wanted to become doctors, are now doctors, and will die as doctors. As for now, despite of being burnt out, we just have to continue shedding light, try our best to stay alive - so that others may live.

Numbed

Resuscitating a dying patient, intubating him/her and performing cardiopulmonary resuscitation thereafter, seemed as objective to me as 1-2-3. In the absence of pulses and respiration, 1. hyperventilate patient with a bag mask...2. do intubation... 3. perform cardiac massage... 4. administer epinephrine... so forth and so on. There's no emotion involved here. In order for me to really focus on what i am doing, that is stealing somebody's life from death, i must never let my heart rule over my head.

Early this morning, i performed the procedure in an extraordinary manner. While resuscitating my patient, thoughts kept on running through my mind. I was objective and detached, not knowing what to feel. Fact is, i must feel nothing. I did feel nothing. I performed the procedure well. I was in a dilemma though whether what i was feeling was the one that's appropriate for me. Being objective is what's being expected from me. What if the one that i'm saving from death however is my own blood? My patient this morning was my uncle...my dad's eldest brother.

The very moment i saw him cold and clammy, i sensed impending doom. His pulses were weak and thready, gasping for dear air. Goodness, i was praying that i need not perform the resuscitation myself but the inevitable happened. While intubating him, i was telling myself,"Hey, 1st time? It's your 1st time to perform the procedure to a relative." While doing my cardiac massages, i was asking myself,"How will i tell dad about this?" When everything that's needed to be given and done was performed, i was thinking,"How will our family take this?"

I was very objective. I was very detached. I did not feel a thing, i did not feel pain or loss within. Is this what's proper for me to feel? Am i too saturated with deaths that i feel nothing even for the death of my own uncle? I may not be that close to him for i only see him once or twice a year during reunions or special occasions but i must be feeling something, a little pinch in the heart maybe. There was none though. I was totally numb.

With the flatline that i could see in his tracings is my flat affect. Not sympathizing, not comforting, too detached. For some of my colleagues, i did the right thing. If i was emotional, then i might not be able to perform the procedure well. I am just wondering though, am i still human? Movies could put me to tears now (again!). Why is it though that i feel nothing for the death of a relative? Gosh, i really am desensitized. I really needed a break...too badly.

I Need a Break

There are times that i am asking myself "why on earth did i dream to become a doctor?" When i was young, i was amazed by people wearing those white, long-sleeved coats, with stethoscopes hanging on their necks to complete the outfit. I was moved by life-saving actions and dramas on tv like doctors resuscitating a dying patient. I am touched by heroic deeds of saving somebody's life. I acted as a doctor myself when i was young, giving my "patients" who happened to be my playmates, "medicines" (candy mints to be exact) to alleviate their "diseases" (thanks to them, they're all good actors and actresses). A friend reminded me that i treated her bruise with "malunggay" when we were in gradeschool. At a young age, people found me having the talent to treat the sick.

Now that i have reached that childhood dream, i am wondering why i still feel empty. I have treated hundreds of sick people, alleviated their pain, gave comfort to the dying, and helped prevented complications, yet, i can no longer feel the sense of fulfilment. No longer for i had this feeling of high when i was just starting in this profession. Now, i feel nothing.

In my 2nd year as a full-fledged doctor, i already feel burnt-out. I didnt realize how being a doctor become so draining. Maybe im just too tired, too harassed, too saturated with the number of cases that i see each day. Maybe, working in a governtment-ran institution is just too tiring that seeing a new case, or a new patient no longer excites me. Everything is a routine for me. I now dont see patients as friends who will give me new knowledge. I now see them as a burden, additional workload i wanted to run away from.

I am no longer amazed by that white coat. Actually, wearing it on a humid day feels like hell. Working in a crap hospital means there are no air conditioning systems in the wards. Good that wearing that long-sleeved white coat is not strictly observed here lest i'll always end up bathing in my own sweat or taking a bath more than thrice a day.

Where have all the excitements gone? Why cant i find fulfilment? I still am doing what's required of me. I still am performing my role as a physician but i get tired so easily. Am i already desensitized? Did my predecessors feel the same thing when they were my age? There's just one thing that i need to do. A change of profession is definitely not the answer. Once a doctor, always a doctor i will be. REST is all i need.

Ten months and i didnt have a break. Ten months, everyday, i report to the hospital. No day off, not even on holidays. I wanted to be absent from work but it's not just my attitude to run away from my responsibilities. Rest, rest, rest. How i wish i could have that rest that i need. Give me just one day off from the hospital. Dont let me see the wards, dont show me a patient, dont ask me to report to the hospital and i'll be fine. I'll be back to my old self again. Vibrant, full of life, full of enthusiasm to save a life. Can't wait for summer to come. Patience self, delay your gratifications. Ahhh life. You really are ironic. Sick people go to the hospital to get well. Doctors however wanted to leave the hospital that's making them sick.

Lessons While in a Queue

It has almost been a routine for me to pass by National bookstore before i go home from the hospital. Tonight, I was in a queue patiently waiting for my turn at the cashier to pay for the magazines and ballpens i bought. So as not to waste my time, i started reading the pages of my new magazine. I was already next to the lady who's paying at the cashier when someone, a woman in her late 30's, who looks like a teacher or an office girl (she was in uniform but i really dont know of what institution), barged in between the lady at the cashier and me.

She chatted with the lady in front of me appearing as if she was her companion. At her left hand, she was carrying her bag and hidden behind it is a book. I was just looking at her doubtful that this woman's making a "pasimpleng singit". I then saw her took her wallet, her Laking National Card and some cash. The book was out on top of the counter ready to be paid. I wrapped my arms, still looking at her with a questioning look, "Where the hell did you come from?" The nerve didnt bother to look behind her. I guess from her peripheral vision, she could see me never battling an eyelash on her. Instead, she deliberately let her long, split-end laden hair cover her ugly face.

Patience cel...patience. You just have to extend your patience to people at times. Understand them. Yep! No matter how difficult. This i've been repeating and repeating in my mind. I shifted my gaze towards the book she bought. Whoah! To my surprise, the book's entitled, "Embracing the Mysterious God."

The hell! This woman, who looked learned enough, dressed in a uniform, is reading a religious book doesnt know the basic lesson in "falling in line!" If she didnt feel guilty and that she didnt recognize that what she was doing was wrong or shameful for a woman like her, then why did she hide the things she bought when she barged in between me and the woman in front of me in the first place?

I placed the magazine i bought at the counter in front of me. Just when i was about to react to the woman's wrongdoing, the magazine i bought, that happens to be Kerygma (a Catholic inspirational magazine), reminded me to cool down. It's a shame too if i would react violently at her in an UN-Christian manner. Sometimes, when i'm having a pms, i just couldnt predict what might come out of my mouth so shutting up was a better alternative.

Let those angry words remain in the confines of my language area. Besides, it took her just about 10-minutes at the cashier. Let my angry looks complete with my arm-crossing be enough and let her shame never put her to sleep. I started thinking of happy thoughts and what came out of my mind was myself, shaving the woman's split-end-laden hair....ooops sowee...wicked me...Erase!

Ahh no wonder she bought that book she has been hiding. With the attitude that she has, God really is still mysterious. The magazine i bought already enlightened me before i finished reading it. I pray that the book she bought would also enlighten her. Should i also recommend that she read Robert Fulghum's book, "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten." Maybe there's a lesson there somewhere about "falling in line."

5:30 Habit

Call it the "530 habit" but we usually visit this certain cafe in town after office hours...unfortunately usually when i'm from duty. Which means that ill be having a fix of methylxanthine...a caffeinated drink that is. As a consequence, instead of falling into a deep sleep because of my from duty status, i end up in front of this tube waiting for sleep to visit me. We call this "530 habit" as "Bo's Session."

What happens here is that we just talk about everything. No specific topic actually. It could be a continuation of a topic started at the hospital or anything from under the sun that we could share over coffee. In return, this becomes therapeutic for me and my colleagues. Credit it to the effects of caffeine or to the encouragements we get from the things we discuss.

As for tonight, we talked about a lot of things. Jumping from one topic to another. Expressing everything our imaginative minds could share. May it be a topic about our work, life, love, or fantasy. Yep! Fantasy. Customers beside us might wonder what we are talking about sometimes. We just laugh at things that only us could understand. Is it a group autism?hehe

Now, what do i get from this chat session? My hundred bucks for coffee actually goes a very long way. Encouragement whenever i feel toxic with work. More strength to move on in my current profession. Passion to keep my will to serve. Gratefulness for feeling so blessed. Affirmation that i am in the right work and workplace. In short, aside from the euphoria that i get from my methylxanthine fix, my heart is once again readied for my next day's work in the hospital.

Who says spending a hundred bucks for coffee is a luxury? It's not just the coffee that i'm paying my hundred bucks for. A grande of coffee goes with camaraderie, bonding, friendship, encouragements, name everything - for FREE.

Happy Birthday Mom!

It's been a very long and tiring day. Before i retire, i just would like to document a few things that have happened today. Today's quite special for my family most especially for my dear mom. For today, she celebrated her 50th birthday.

Working with people older than i am, most were amazed that my mom's just 50 years old. Those who met her already were more amazed when they found her younger than her age. Well, in terms of age, she isnt that old as others would expect for I am the eldest in the family and she got married at 22. Therefore, she already produced a doctor at age 50. In appearance, i guess working in a beauty company helped a lot in hiding her real age.

A small gathering for a little more than a 100 hundred guests in a restaurant concluded this day. We prepared a small tribute for her though the script, the sounds, everything were completed just this morning. It turned out just fine as most guests have commented. My siblings were good enough in doing their assigned tasks. Well, i realized that it really is an advantage when you're the eldest. I acted as the director, assigned tasks to my siblings, thus keeping me away from the limelight.hehe My younger sis gave a testimonial in our behalf, my only bro was the emcee and our youngest sis impersonated mom in our tribute. But hey, i also exposed myself to the public. I held the microphone when we sang our concluding song for mom. Sheesh, i just wasnt born a public performer.

After hearing all the testimonials that my mom's friends said about her, i was once again reminded that im so blessed having a mom like her. For 27 years, i just couldnt think of a time that i wished i would have another mom. My mom's my inspiration and my model of strength, courage, charity and faith. Well, anyone who has a mom might also think the same towards his/her mother. The kind of persons that my siblings and i have become are products of my mom's labor of love. Well, it's quite obvious that im so grateful having her as my mom for im dedicating this blog to her.

There's just another thing that my mom taught me tonight. Seeing her and my father so happy as a couple, i was reminded of that single night that we were watching tv together. That night, we witnessed on tv the cruelty of the life of a single woman. My mom reminded me, after hearing my joke before that i would want to be single for life, that she would want me to get married and have a family of own. I just answered with a sheepish grin associated with my alter ego's "Duh?!?".

Though i really cant picture out myself tied to a husband and craddling a baby, tonight, witnessing my mom so happy and contented with her life, changed all my views. Gone are the apprehensions and fears. Tonight, I am assured that no matter how i mess things up, my mom's there to inspire me and to encourage me.

Alright mom, i also want to be like you. I'm saying this not just to make you happy. Your presence constantly reminds me that "Hey Cel! You came from a woman of faith and of strength. You could turn every mishaps and misfortune into a blessing."