Ripple Effect

Another miracle again happened in the mass tonight. A miracle that in a Sunday mass at a from-duty status, i didnt fall asleep. Was it just because the priest left his pulpit and stood almost right in front of me? Maybe i was way too conscious to do some "headbanging" again during mass for someone who knows me from the backseats might see me. Seriously, the homily today just got me. I was all ears during the homily and almost released my tear dams during communion. Tsk..tsk...recollection songs like "Lead Me Lord" really would touch my heart.

Yep, i did find my purpose in this hospital i am in. I could remember however those times when i found all my efforts so futile. I was in the verge of depression thinking that the things i was doing were nothing. The homily tonight however affirmed one thing. I just have to keep on going. Finish what i have started. The little kindness that i was doing wasnt just nothing. It could be likened to the tiny drop of water creating a ripple in the ocean.

I am not planning to deliver a homily here. What im just trying to say is that, in times when i needed strength, the Great Architect knows how to send me some. He always seem to tell me to continue being a tiny drop in this vast ocean i am in. Even a minute drop of water could create a ripple, disturbing the calmness of the water.

The little kindness that i could give to single patient of mine might not be of value to me. Little did i know that this little kindness could go a long way - the ripple effect as the priest would describe it. For my 28th birthday, i know that i have not done great things. I still am the ordinary yet toxic resident doctor in a government institution. I still am the girl who have pms and tantrums from time to time. I still am the sleepy housemate. I still am the both stubborn and obedient daughter. I still am the elder sis who's both strict and crazy. Still the old friend but now forgets birthdays (ooops). I still havent started world domination. Not even started to create my own memorial foundation. All i know is that at least, my little act of kindness is a big gift to someone needing it best. My little goal for my 28th year? To continue extending this little kindness even to one person, everyday. I know this wouldnt just make someone happy. I know that i would be pleasing best that Someone i owe the whole 28 years im enjoying.

April Fool's

It's my first day at work after my so-called forced leave. Was full of energy, full of enthusiasm, full of life for my duty today. Was just surprised to know however upon reaching the hospital that starting today, the 1st day of April, i'll be going on duty now as a senior resident. For the whole 24-hours, it'll just be my 1st yr co-resident, the junior interns, the post-graduate intern and me. No more senior to refer to, all referrals end with me. I was expecting that this was a joke. Can i take such big responsibility? Can i handle all referrals that will be thrown at me? My seniors would definitely not allow this kind of set up this early. I'm just in the 4th month of my 2nd year training.

The whole day, I was expecting that i could hear..."Gotcha cel! April fool's!" Well, it's already the 2nd, April fool's over, it's 3 in the morning yet i heard not this punchline. Reality check, I'm really going on duty as a senior resident now. What to do? What to read? How would i act?

Nah! Proper question is, "What more can i do?" Now that i've plunged in and all wet, i just have to enjoy and swim. Besides, if i really am determined to be an internist, an Internist is always ready...and even if she is not, she will try her best to be.

My Birthday Gift to Myself: To Stop Intellectualizing

In a couple of days, i'll be spending my 28th year here on earth. Woohoot! I'll be 20-10 then 2 years after. I really dont know why things have been reminding me today that "hey, you're not getting any younger." I am not alarmed though. Really. The panic buttons are still cool and way too far from my reach.

Shucks! I really dont know why im feeling this way. People have been threatening me: should i choose isolation or generativity? As one of my friends emailed me. Yet, i feel no fear. I feel no cause of alarm. One of my sisters even teased me during dinner tonight that by the time my child finishes college, i'll be a 3-legged freak. In short, i'll be having a walking cane already. They even asked me how many children i wanted to have. Hell, i dont even have a plan of having a boyfriend for now and they're asking for the number of kids i would want to have?

My contemporaries and even those younger than i am are mostly married and are already raising kids. Some who are single are even worried, way too worried that they'll end up single for life. What's the big deal with being single? I on the other hand as one of my bestfriends would say didnt even for once tried to enter a relationship. And they're thinking that it was that easy? For some maybe, not for me. A colleague even asked me once why it was hard for us to submit to a guy. The kind that you entertain suitors even if you dont like him. She was wondering why other girls who have just broken up with their boyfriends would be entertaining new guys a few weeks or months after. Is it because they have stopped intellectualizing and just started feeling? Just a wild guess on my part.

Fact is, my brain's quite more powerful than my heart that everytime i feel for someone, this brain of mine processes information faster than normal. It's like an alarm was triggered in my hypothalamus that instead of feeling love, it's functioning on the contrary. It doesnt just receive information, it analyzes it and even projects it 10-years after. Questions like, Is he really the one? Is he a hubby material? What will my children look like when the other genes came from him? Will i have security with him? What will he look like when we grow old? Can i imagine myself growing old with him? Well, i really couldnt stop my brain from functioning such. It might be programmed to scrutinize men and not to fall for them.

Thinking further, another friend of mine was right. This is just one of the defense mechanisms that we project. Truth is, we are more of scared people. Afraid to fail, afraid to commit mistakes even in the relationships that we're going to enter, afraid to get broken hearted, afraid to show our vulnerability. See? My brain even analyzes my own self. The real score actually is that we are afraid that we'll be stupefied. Once our hearts get to overcome our brains, we sometimes become beings we didnt expect ourselves to become. Love makes us stupid that's why.

As a birthday gift to myself, and by giving in to most people's request, i'll try, even for once not to intellectualize. It will be hard alright. Intellectualization is more of a reflex for me. I'll be myself's guinea pig. I just have to shut all switches in my brain and prevent my neurotransmitters from functioning. How? This i have yet to discover. This is not however my way of saying that i would want to have a boyfriend. I just would like to make it clear. As for now in terms of plans for having a relationship, things are as clear to me as mud. It isnt just in my priority list. Wait till i get 20-10. Might be pushing on the panic button dead hard.=)

Early Birthday Gift

After whining and ranting in this blog about my job and my toxicity, at long last, my greatest dream, which was to have a break, was granted! Now, the break that i'm savoring is coming to an end. The day after tomorrow, i'll be back to reality. I'll be back to 24-hour duties, to the crap hospital, the place of the sick and the dying, and i'll be assuming the role of a doctor again! Yipee! (a sarcastic hurray actually).

Seriously, i just have to be thankful for this 1 whole week of break from work. It for once broke the routine, boring work that i have. I was able to rest my unknown to me, tired body. If i didnt have tonsillitis, i didnt realize that my immune system's already giving in. Well, after a complete bedrest and yep! literally enough sleep, my dear tonsils got ok (or maybe after i threatened them that i'll have them removed).

Ahhh i miss work. Haha i am serious. I really miss work. My co-residents, the bo's sessions, 24-hour duties. I didnt realize that staying at home would be more boring.hehe It's like i've been used to waking up early in the morning for work and now that im savoring my break, my body clock still wakes me up early. After having a late breakfast, lying on the couch and do channel surfing, i'll try net surfing next when i get bored. When my eyes would get strained from staying online for quite some time, i'll take naps. When i wake up, i'll realize that i have nothing to do. Opening my book might make my time worthwhile but it makes me sleepy again. In short, i still would want to push through with my wicked plans. That is, to put shabu in microcapsules and embed them in the bookpaper so that while im reading my medical books and eventually feel sleepy, i could just rub my fingertips on the bookpaper and sniff them.hehe Well, cosmetic brochure inspired eh.

Tsk...tsk...sometimes i get to think that i really am not contented with life. I think i should add something in my life's mantra. It's not just living life without expectations but also being contented with life. I have been whining about my work yet now that i was given the break, i eventually missed it.

Nah, the reason i guess why im feeling this way is that hospital work is my life. The reason why i feel bored right now is because i'm not used to this kind of life. Well, i know now why the great architect put breaks in between. These breaks are pit stops for us to refuel and to once again continue on our journey. Being granted this break is truly the greatest birthday gift i had. This break pulled me away from my current work and it let me see it from another view. This break recharged my energy, overhauled my tired body and is once again preparing me for another year of 24-hour duties. Haha it's nice to know that there's a life planner out there. I couldnt help but be thankful for everything that's been happening in my life. In a few days, I'll be spending one-fourth of a century plus three here on earth. If He has given me this break as a birthday gift, i think the greatest gift that i could give Him back is for me to continue on loving my work and to live up into the kind of physician that He wanted me to be.

Life is Beautiful

I know...i know, this post's title sounds ironic if i'll compare it with my previous entry. Ive been whining how cruel life was when it gave me tonsillitis upon munching just three pieces of chocolates. Despite all of this though, in general, life is still beautiful. Haha, my fave old adage,"Life is beautiful" once again came into life. Why? For several reasons. There are reasons why it was buried inside my mothballs-smelling wooden box ("baul" to be exact) and there are also several reasons why it was risen from the dead.

When i was in medschool, i've had all the reasons to say that life was beautiful. Yep! Even if medschool was tough, i was able to survive it. Back then, I was still unexposed to the "real world" where "real life" exists. How can i feel real poverty when i was having my internship in a tertiary private hospital in cavite and studying in one of the expensive medical schools in the country? How can i feel real sickness when i am not that hands-on with our patients? We were just clerks, assisting our patient's needs. Our patients back then where laid in soft, comfortable hospital beds in airconditioned rooms. I was just dependent on my monthly allowance that i need not look for my own bucks. I never felt how difficult it was to work for your own money that spending it was quite easy. Life really is beautiful wasnt it?

When i reached residency training though, i was exposed to the "Real world". I witnessed how people die on the floor. I've experienced treating a patient with whatever is at hand, McGyver style. I've seen how miserable life is when you're sick, penniless, homeless and alone. I've felt for those who slept on the alleys with only cardboard boxes to protect their backs from the cold, bacteria-infested floors and oh not to mention those kittens and rats as big as cats running around at night. I've realized how precious your hard-earned money is especially if you earned it by having a thrice a week 24-hour duties most of which are literally sleepless. How can i say life is beautiful then? What beauty can i get from the poverty and sickness around me? What beauty can i appreciate from a crap, old, dilapidated hospital i am in? Nada...nil...nothing!

After being granted however my so called forced leave and having slept the whole day today, i could say that hey, there's still beauty in life. For the record, i was just away from the hospital for a day and yet i felt so refreshed and energized. The hospital might have sucked all the energies in me. Different poles attract dont they? Thinking also that in a few hours, i'm off to the paradise island of Boracay makes me feel how great, truly great the Big Guy upstairs really is. Before i left the hospital for the week, bonuses were also given...haha pocketmoney for the trip. Didnt inform my parents about this...plans to surprise my parents for taking charge of the dinner bill tomorrow night.

Well, life really is beautiful. This would be my last entry before i leave. Bringing along my laptop sounds ewwww, i'll be going to bora to swim and not to "surf"! I just hope that i'll be back with refreshed mind, heart and body and more blog entries.

Also, I wanted to find myself again. The one who's very grateful and enthusiastic with life. The one, who in the first place, brought me to this hospital that sucked all energy from me. As mom would say, i must be where i am needed and it's the hospital she's referring to. No worries. I'll be back. The hospital might suck all the energies from me but just imagine how genius that great architect is...He knows when i needed to be recharged.

A Sense of Dignity

Dignity...a sense of pride and self-respect; a condition of being worthy of respect, esteem and honor.

I have been in this hospital for two years now...no make it three if i would include my internship here. For three years, i have been exposed to the harsh realities of life. This exposure would either crush or lift my spirit up...depending on my hormonal status (now im blaming my pms again). Who would imagine that this institution, located almost in the heart of the city, is a jungle? A jungle where survival of the fittest is the mantra. Our patients are all sick alright, but what i mean is that financially and emotionally, these patients of ours must equip themselves with these necessities in order to survive.

If i were to define dignity the way encarta would have it, this "necessity" would be the sparsest in our hospital. Not to include my patients who are financially incapacitated, majority of our patients lack dignity...a sense of self-worth. Picture this out...people from the marginalized areas of our province rushing to our hospital to seek medical care. As doctors, this we could provide. How about the medical facilities that are essential for our treatment? Medications, intravenous solutions and yep! even just a warm hospital bed? Truth is, they are very scarce compared with the number of admissions that we have everyday.

If these patients of ours were living in a shanty or in the sidewalks maybe, i am thinking that these people being sick, needs comfort to ease their physical illness. What comfort can you get however from sleeping in a cardboard box? Worse if they are located in the alleys where people walk to and fro. Yep! We examine patients kneeling and everytime i do this, my heart bleeds. Where's privacy? Where's dignity? If these patients are dying, dont they deserve a more decent death?

What's even worse is that the hospital administrators dont seem to observe this. They are too absorbed in their own issues. Fighting for position and popularity is all that they do. Stone throwing is their expertise. This hospital is a miniature Philippines. Those in power arent aware of the number of people who are hungry and are dying.

I feel for my patients. This could also be my reason for staying here. If i am having a hormonal surge, i would be in a depressed mode. Now that pms havent visited me yet, im looking at things on a brighter light. If the administration couldnt do its part well, as a doctor, who comes in contact with the patients everyday, i could do something for them. Not only can i give them the best that i could offer in treating them, but i could also provide them a sense of dignity that nature deprived them of.

A condition of being worthy of respect, esteem and honor, dignity's other definition. They may be sleeping in cardboard boxes, deprived of money, family support and dying. Dignity i guess is not self-generated. It's freely given. Now i realize why these patients of ours could survive sleeping in cartons. For themselves, they may lack self-worth. With the way we treat and look at them however, you know, human beings who deserve every respect we could give, we rekindle the little that they possess. Believe me...a touch of care and the respect that we give them are also vital in their healing. This i could proudly say is never scarce for they're freely given by the men and women doctors of our hospital. Now, i'm not plugging...I don't need to plug for patient's kept on coming. Yep! Equipped with cardboard boxes or folding beds!

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!"