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Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Dear Diary…


Surprisingly, I got the day off tomorrow…one of the other doctors called and asked me to shift schedules around so they could be free on so-and-so day. Being the youngest (and newest), I could only say yes. It's no big deal, anyway, I like 48 hour stretches nowadays. You can get the job done, and you'll get to follow-up on the patients more.(I'm not really an ER-short time type of doctor. )

It's a little too early to sleep, and I haven't been blogging in a while, so I thought I'd give free-writing another go. SO many things have happened, and I'm almost afraid I'd lose them forever to the great oblivion of forgotten details if I don't put them down in writing. At the rate of 100,000 brain cells a day, one gets to realize that daily life is a gradual sinking into inevitable dementia…unless we do something about it, of course.

(which is why I'm writing furiously now…about something/everything/nothing at all.)

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CATS AND DOGS

Its rainy season in the Philippines…with the June to October (?) months come the rains. Like today, it rained all afternoon. The rains are nice and all, but sometimes, it's not all that. When I'm at work, I think I like the rain, 'cause it keeps patients "at bay". Not that many people would brave going into the rains to get consults if they didn't need to. :-p When I'm at home, sometimes the raindrops and the "chill" make me too comfortable, I don't do anything useful with myself.

It is so not helping my URTI (upper respiratory tract infection) today. Definitely not. I tried only one of the "pulmonologist-recommended" surefire treatment plan…so I shouldn't expect the best results today. I hope I'll get better tomorrow. Mouth breathing is totally not my thing. (eeww.)

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I've been spending time at the hospital most days lately…very recently, my grandfather took ill, but he's better now.

A whole lot better.

A little over a week ago, while at work, I got a distress call from my tita who said that lolo was really weak and wasn't waking up from his nap. They called an ambulance, and he was brought to the hospital of his attending. It was nerve-wracking for my tita and tito who were at the house, because the noticed that Lolo's fingertips were starting to turn blue…and the ambulance took a time longer than they would have liked.

At the hospital, they intubated him (which raised back his oxygen levels to 100 from 70%.) and performed the necessary procedures. My lolo's pulmonologist (my grandfather has a smoking-related problem)was there every step of the way (he's almost like family. He goes to my lolo's house during the fiesta and one time he drove lolo to the house himself after their Spiriva speech thing. Lolo's his oldest patient on Spiriva.)

Anyway, it wasn't easy to see your own grandfather being subjected to the consciousness test. When I first got there, he was unresponsive, and I watched how the nurses would perform the nipple pinch and the chest rub and the loud vocal command things on him…it was painful to see your own grandfather react only to the pain. For a while, I was just sitting there in the ICU, watching the monitor, watching him. They had loaded him up with pressors and inotropes (for his blood pressure) and I was watching while they titrated and stuff. I wanted to see what his labs were, but since I knew that it was protocol, that if you weren't in any way connected to the hospital, you couldn't see his records/chart, I knew I had to ask nicely. J I did, and the nurse was kind enough to give me a copy.

Initially, I had thought, watching my grandfather on that ICU bed, that maybe this was it (i.e. he wasn't going to be around for much longer). However, I had faith in modern medicine (of course) and little miracles…and besides, I couldn't imagine him gone, so…I kept my hopes up.) I watched his monitor for a while, staring at it, and staring at him, occasionally willing him to respond.

I must've looked quite stoic, just sitting there, but I couldn't help it. My auntie came in and she looked at the falling BP, and she was getting all fretful and stuff. And she started getting all emotional. I remained quiet and still, I suppose, and I think she didn't like it, because when she talked to me, it felt like she was annoyed that I was being all calm about it. I merely said, it's low, but it's ok, it'll come back up, he's on Dopamine and Dobutamine. And I would sit back and just watch my grandfather and his monitor again.

I can't be emotional about it. I didn't think it was proper to cry, of course. I would never show that kind of emotion around patients, even if he was my grandfather. But inside I was a little scared that he might not make it. It was only when I saw his BP rise little by little that I breathed a sigh of relief. The worst was over.

J And true enough, the next night, he was wide awake, and even gesturing. J

And a couple of days after that, they had taken his tube out and his caregiver Manang Mona said that he was even joking around with the nurses.

My lola visited occasionally, she'd be wheeled in in her wheelchair and she'd hold onto his hand and kiss him, hold his face to hers, cupping it in her hands. (Hehe, it's cute.) Cutesy stuff from my grandparents, who are 85 and 86, respectively. I suppose you miss someone when he's gone, but when he's just nearby, you take him for granted.

Anyway, I was there this morning, and I found out that they had taken out his feeding tube, and he was now drinking high-calorie milk on his own. J ( Gotta love him.)

He'll be home soon.

(I love my lolo to bits. J)

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THE DOCTOR CRUSH


One time, when I hung out at the hospital, I wandered into an ER area and saw someone who caught my interest. I was separated from him by a single row of glass windows…I was able to look in, and I think it was a busy time, I suppose, there were patients on all stretchers. Anyway, since I wasn't doing anything, and was waiting for someone, I decided to stick around.

He wasn't a nurse, that I could tell. He was probably either a resident or an intern. Tall, boyish-looking (he probably was maybe 25 or 26) and looking particularly dashing (even if he was in ochre scrubs and white pants only,in sneakers (Chuck Taylors, I think), with a stethoscope around his neck). Heck, I think he had a nice ass too, now that I think about it in retrospect. Haha.

But seriously, what captivated me were his hands, his eyes, and his confidence, the manner that he strode into the room…it wasn't a swagger, but more of a take-charge attitude, that he knew what he was doing. (That was hot. :-p)

Doctor boys are something else, really… :-p

As much as I would've liked to watch some more…he looked like he was handling an interesting patient, and all. Yet I knew I couldn't, without looking like a stalker. I had my nose pressed almost to the glass, and I had to smile inspite of myself. I was acting like a 14 year-old with a crush on a boy. I had to duck too, 'cause I thought he was going to look in my direction, and it probably been embarrassing to be seen as a grown woman "spying" on a guy.

Doctor boys. Gotta love 'em. :-p

Good guys like that were always either of two things; Gay or Taken. He didn't act like he was effeminate either, so I think the closest would be "Taken."

( * sigh * Oh well… they usually are. :-s)

Anyway, I didn't stay, I was meeting family for dinner...and I was particularly looking forward to this one. J

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WORLD CUP :-)







I got to hang out with my dear high school friends Antoine and Ivy a few days ago.


I love them, really. It was good to see them. We hardly see each other, but it's always fun when we do.

There are just people you know and grow up with and share secrets with that you know you can be yourself around them. They're like that. I've known Ivy since I was 13. We were seated together in class, and bam, it was the beginning of a great friendship. She's my go-to "Person", and has always been around for my adventures (and Misadventures, LOL). Antoine (who I call Twan), I've known since I was 6. One time, when I was much younger, and was particularly nervous because I had never actually kissed a guy before, I had to ask him. On the phone, I asked, "Twan, I need your help! I don't know how to kiss!" He laughed, and over the phone, told me practical advice…"It's easy enough Phan…just try to remember not to stick out your tongue too much.." and etc etc.

It's funny, really.

Oh, and both are World Cup fans too. (I was the only one who wasn't knowledgeable on that table...but I had a great time, nonetheless.) Their enthusiasm was infectious. Particularly Ivy, who had me snap pictures of her in the sports bar. Apparently, she wanted her world cup experience documented. :-p I snapped away.


I had a great time that night. That was special.



Thank you, World Cup. :-D

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Yes and No (I get these a lot.)

Are you married?

Me: Nope.

Do you have a boyfriend?

Me: Nope. :-p

Are you dating?

Me: Nope.

Are you seeing anyone?

Me: Nope.

Are you planning on having kids?

Me: Yes. 4.

Are you going to be an old maid?

Me: Nope.

Are you happy today?

Me: Yes. J

Monday, June 14, 2010

Thank you, Dorothy




"Ok, give me a smile..." The photographer guy coaxed me gently. 

I remembered my mother holding my brother by the hand, looking on while my picture was being taken. I was sitting on a box, coached by the photographer, on how to pose. There was a flash of light, and then, "Ok, very nice, that's it..."

I was maybe 5 or 6 years old when the picture on the left was taken. I was in the second year of kindergarten at St. Paul's...and it was for our yearbook. It was my first year in a private school (as I had done preschool in small public schools twice already), but I had been studying since I was 3 and a half years old, according to my mother. I was underage, so they didn't let me get in kindergarten, until I was about to turn 6.

I was in the usual Paulinian uniform; white top with the sailor collar, and starched black and white checked skirt with the matching neck tie shaped like a diamond (for our year level), complete with a laminated card of an orange carrot, with my picture and name on it. 

My teacher was Miss Orlina, and she was a nice young lady who was pretty and petite, and had curly hair. I remembered how she'd always start each afternoon class with a prayer, and had us cross our arms when she wanted us to behave. She had a way with kids...we were hardly ever rowdy. Years later, when I was much older and had seen her with her class, I saw that she could make each little pony-tailed tot cross his or her arms, and stay in line, and even walk a certain speed with just a simple command. They followed her instructions to the letter. (Clout with kids, I call it now. :-p)

This week's blog rounds had quite an amusing topic, and honestly, it was an unexpected surprise. I haven't talked about my time in Kindergarten ever, and I had to think about how I'd write an entry on it.

So what was kindergarten like, for me? Well, I only remember little bits and pieces of moments in the past, here and there, but they are very clear anyhow. :-) It was my first time in a private school, and my first time to "mingle"with city kids. I think I was a very quiet kid then.

The lessons came easily for me, as it was the case in kindergarten, and there wasn't any difficulty to it. The "entrance exam" involved being asked to identify shapes and colors and to put blocks in certain places. After the exam, I remember feeling, "Is that it?" Well, that was it. It was kindergarten, after all.

There was one time when I was seated at the same table as a girl named Lilibeth and Lyndi. Lilibeth was a chatterbox, and Lyndi was a pretty girl who had waist-length wavy hair and always did her hair in two pigtails, the coveted hairstyle for 5 year-olds, I remembered. Anyway, one afternoon, they said some mean things, but i didn't do anything about it. And the next afternoon, when Miss Orlina asked me what was wrong, I told her that the two girls were mean to me (meaning the other day), and the girls vehemently denied it, and said that they didn't do anything,

It was a love-hate relationship at that table, because, in that afternoon, when I took out my jumbo crayons from Australia, they borrowed some, we were friends again. Oh, and also, I remembered a Spanish kid named Joshua who borrowed an orange crayon that afternoon (and even asking him, "Didn't you bring your own crayons?", which was mean of me too, of course). He was a cute/good-looking guy, in a time before I knew what cute/goodlooking guys were. :-p

I suppose it was stressful for me, because one afternoon, without my meaning to, I peed in my seat and wet my skirt through. Miss Orlina took me to the back room and took off my wet skirt and cleaned me up. I didn't bring extra underpants, so my teacher borrowed some from another kid's locker. I remember putting on a pair of white shorts with psychedelic multicolored prints with my sailor uniform and traipsing around the halls, black maryjanes and fluffy socks in all.

She said I should go over and thank my classmate, Dorothy, for loaning me her pants. So I did.

:-)

I think I loved writing back then, and I remember this essay we had to write in our workbook. The theme was, "How did you spend your weekend?" I remembered writing, in big thick pencil lead, "I did not go out to play, because we have a..." I thought for a bit, hmm.. and  nudged my seatmate, asking him, "Hey, how do you spell television?" He didn't know either. So, i put in... 

"I did not go out to play, because we have a televihon."

Bad spelling, but it was a thought. :-p

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I still wonder what I would've done if Dorothy didn't have any spare shorts that afternoon. yikes.


Friday, June 11, 2010

Clarity


I found the perfect pair of glasses earlier tonight at the mall. Light weight, it was almost like air, (and umm, violet), and just sat comfortably  on my nose....not moving, not being a bother (not even while I shook my head from side to side, haha). I don't have to push it up the bridge of my nose everytime I sweat, everytime it gets hot. Everytime stress makes my sebaceous glands sweat/oil up a little more than usual.

(But you don't want to have to hear about that, of course. :-p)

It's hard to understand, but if you're myopic and astigmatic (short-sighted, with misshapen corneas, i mean), like myself, finding the perfect pair of glasses is like finding the perfect job, or the perfect boyfriend...hoped for, but never quite achieved. An especially helpful optometrist and a relaxed environment to pick out the perfect pair of glasses are very essential . It makes everything so much easier.

Contact lenses can only do so much...and were never meant to stay in one's eye for more than 8 hours at a time (I've been guilty of keeping them on for more than a day for convenience.) If I'm not careful, I might be using them Toric contact lenses, which the optometrist says cost Php 2000.00 a pair, ten times the amount I pay for my regular disposable pair. Toric contact lenses have a special adjustment for those who are astigmatic.

When I was younger, I was always curious about wearing glasses...they were always interesting. I was somehow convinced that they made people look smart...like genius. I'd try out my uncles' or grandparents' pairs, if I weren't practicing "the squint" (which I've seen some people do when they didn't have glasses on). "I want glasses, Ma." I'd say. I'd never get them. It was only in my junior year in college when I finally decided that my eyes needed "crutches". So I got myself tested, and sure enough, I needed a pair. 

And then shortly afterwards, I started wearing contact lenses...and I haven't stopped since. I don't even like them colored. (I just like them clear and natural.) 

It's not easy being somewhat "blind", you know. Without glasses, everything is murky, as if you were underwater and everything has a fuzz on its outline...and sometimes you can't even tell the color of something someone holds up in front of you because your eyes are playing tricks on you. Not having glasses on made me nauseated. 

I don't know which is worse, though. To have glasses, but to have them so uncomfortable that you'd have to constantly push them up your nose...or that you'd have to adjust their hooking behind your ears just so they'd fit. I'd picked out a pair just recently, about two months ago. On the day I bought it, I thought it was a good choice...but I kept going back to the place to have it adjusted and readjusted. And it was heavy, and got in the way. How could I not have seen it?

So when I wandered into an optical shop to get a bottle of lens solution, I got my eyes tested again, and found a pair of glasses that I liked. The instant I put it on...it was an exultant, heavenly experience, the crystal clarity of everything around me made me almost giggle with delight.

Heaven is clear vision, all over again. :-) I don't mean to make such a big fuss over getting new eyeglasses, but really, once you get the one that fits "just right", you don't ever want to go back again.( And that, I'm convincing myself, was enough to justify the purchase.) I couldn't help myself. I was definitely looking for comfort, and a "better deal", and it was definitely not because I got tired of my older glasses. :-s

Glasses are good, and you can be all fashionable with them, but really, honestly, if you ask me, I'd rather have my 20/20 vision back. The optometrist told me that most near-sighted people have a history of intense reading (i.e. reading in bed, reading in low light, repeated eyestrain, etc.). Somehow, that isn't very comforting.

...so I won't suggest you start.

~ S. 

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Piece of Me (June)

In the tradition of the monthly Q and A game, which is "Piece of Me", I have decided to hand in my "two cents worth" a bit earlier than I usually would. SO here we are, in this game, which was started by the Tooth Fairy, who is pretty much still on hiatus..

I like: Hanging out at my grandparents occasionally, watching Glee (and I especially loved what Vocal Adrenaline did to Bohemian Rhapsody), surprise trips, happy weddings, short dresses, calligraphy pens, Adam's Manual of Neurology, singing in the shower. Oh, and the quirkiness of this line

                         "Want to put my tender heart in a blender. watch it spin 'round in a beautiful oblivion.
                                         Rendezvous, then I'm through with you."

I don't like: the tedium of the commute. the loss of hours. boredom. helplessness. and complacency. Oh, and insistent folks, who stick with quack remedies. Oh, and lack, lack and lack. :-( And, death on my watch.

I plan: to prioritize more. :-) and forget about the "last-minute madness". learn how to whistle "Bohemian Rhapsody", finish the textbooks, pass the papers.

I want you to know: that I was just bored? :-p Oh, and that I'm never doing mush anymore. :-)

I want to say to someone special:  Preorder for me, please. :-p Oh, and vivs, A.M.? Seeya!
                                                                                                              
                                                                                                          

Monday, June 7, 2010

On Weddings (Part 2)

First dance. Photo by: Rian Michael Calugcugan

My cousin (Manang) Beryl/Bo recently got married to her boyfriend of 7 years, Ed, in Oahu, Hawaii. I saw the pictures, it was a beautiful wedding (judging from everyone's FB pictures! :-) Rian's picture came out great...I love the gentleness of this picture. You can just see how crazy they are about each other.

:-) People should get married for the right reasons, and this should be one of them...

Congratulations, and best wishes, you two... :-)

Sunday, June 6, 2010

On weddings (Part 1)

A "rash" of weddings...

That's what I've been up to these past few weeks. First it was Ella's (family by affinity), then Connie's (a college barkada), and just a few days ago, Tonton's wedding.

All were very nice, all were lots of fun, and all were very big, with more than a hundred people in attendance. The first one felt like it had the whole town of Lazi, Siquijor attending. Their program host knew everyone and could point out who was who, and who did what at random...I was impressed.

The others were equally "family-oriented" and it seemed that in almost all cases, everyone knew both the bride and groom (and the two of them as a couple) for a long time. They known them as a "unit" and showed up to celebrate with the couple what was deemed "inevitable". Because the couple had been together for so long it would seem that their tying the known would only be a formality.

When I go to weddings, I usually look at the tiny details, the ones that involve what these two people are like with each other. I don't even notice the flowers. :-p

What I do notice are the things that everyone sees, and celebrates and cheers for...
      the way the bride beams with happiness,
             her radiance in her miles and miles of tulle and satin, silken finery
                 the way the groom lovingly dabs at his bride's little beads of perspiration during the long homily :-p
                       or the ease with which their lips meet, to seal their union as man and wife forever in a ceremony solemnized in front of people who cherish them.

:-)

Tonton and Nyd (or Doug, as we call him) kissed and then hugged each other tight, as if giving each other a congratulatory squeeze after the ceremonial smooch. After 8 years of being together, you're wont to think that people probably will get sick of each other eventually, but no, it looked as fresh, and as loving as the day they told each other that  cliche "i LOVE yOU."

"If it's really love, you'll know...." That's what they say. If you find that someone you feel you want to spend the rest of your life with, you'll know. And, most probably, as Billy Crystal said it so eloquently, "When you finally find someone who you want to spend the rest of your life with, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible..."

But that's just me... :-)

Right now, I enjoy the whole "pomp and circumstance" of weddings. I love dressing up and taking part in the festivities of a happy occasion. When they call out for the single ladies, I'm still one of those who go up to the front, and proud to be standing there, not feeling guilty to be single (and available), but rather, relishing the fact that at this time in my life, I feel young, and vibrant and have shed all (well, almost all) the insecurities of an awkward youth and am enjoying the current choices I have made for myself.

(whew. long-winded speech,eh?)

Now is the time I feel like I know myself, and learned to appreciate what I do and what I've been through, and what I'm good at.

:-) (And before I start rationalizing any more, I better get on with this piece.)

Some of my friends good-naturedly tell me, "Wow, another wedding? Good...maybe you'll meet Prince Charming this time." I just laugh, and defend myself with a joking, "But I don't go to weddings to meet people (or "get laid"?, haha), I go to weddings to have fun..!" (It doesn't keep them from teasing me, though.)

Come to think about it, it's not hard to get caught up in the romantic "spirit" of weddings, when you're there attending one. One time, in my cousin's wedding way back when I turned 20, there was this guy who stood out.

Well, actually, he walked beside me down the aisle the first time we met, how is that for romantic? :-p I was a bridesmaid, and he was one of the groomsmen (his cousin was the bride, and mine was the groom), and on the eve of our cousins'  wedding, at the rehearsals, we were somehow paired up together.

     Me: Hi, I'm S. What's your name?
     Him: I'm A.

"A." was a nice surprise. Tall and goodlooking, and confident (and wearing the then cool Nike Air Cortez on his feet), and I developed an instant crush. I think I could still remember how he looked like that night...lean and athletic (he was sitting on the steps of the church with his other cousins, they were from Manila), he had an air of quiet cat-like grace, an alluring mysterious quality that really made me stare, despite myself.

With fair "Manila" skin (I think he was part Chinese, i think.), he seemed to...glow? :-p

(NOTE TO SELF: Guys that "glow" in the moonlight/nighttime, you should try to avoid.)

So anyway, as you can pretty much guess, it was a memorable "walk down the aisle" for me, with the romantic church ambience, my long flowing bridesmaids dress, and my hand on this "glow boy's" arm, i was in a bit of bliss, I admit, nevermind that I was in 3 inch heels and that I was hurting later. The party afterwards was at the Dusit Hotel in Makati, and it was more fun, we danced a lot and talked until the party broke up.

:-) Well, to make the story short, things didn't go well. Sometimes, the wedding ambiance induces a fleeting "magical" quality to things that make any romantic little girl (myself especially) get ideas. Needless to say, it didn't go as fairy tales should, although he and I are Facebook friends...and at one time or two, I was able to get huge discounts off a lot of my medical textbooks, from the deal he sprung for me.

(All's well, that ends well, right? :p)

So maybe I'm still a little wary of these romantic overtones these days. They may be good fodder for "How I met Your Mother" stories for the kids I'll later have,  but they WERE terrible emotional rollercoaster rides while I was "in them".

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(to be continued. I've got work. Seeya tomorrow! :-))

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Oh, and here's a thought.... I can't seem to get this song out of my head, since the first time I gave it a listen (yesterday, when I asked someone) . There is something about the singer's voice, the drum beats, the guitar overtones, and the mood in the lyrics that makes it all come together very pleasantly.

Give it a listen. And tell me what you think. (Try not to mind the anime on the video.)






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