The Fear you won't fall (Joshua Radin)

red and lazy. Manila, Philippines. May 30, 2011. Photo by: S.

I wake up a lot earlier than I used to, these days. Almost an hour earlier than when I had set "Do You Remember" to play. <-- I usually need a loud, upbeat picker-upper of a song to really jar my senses in the mornings. But now, it's like clockwork.

Which is pretty good. I have a big exam coming up in a couple of weeks...the one and only exam that'll say if we'll get to advance to the next level of training. It's kind of daunting, as we'll only have 100 items (or so I heard) of "anything-under-the-Psychiatric-Sun" multiple choice questions to prove our worth, a teeny-tiny margin of error, so to speak.

Still, it was one of those mornings...

I pretty much had had enough of dopamine-receptor antagonists, and to relax, I put my music player on, and looked through the files. After a cursory glance, I decided on something light and low, a Grey's Anatomy soundtrack song called, "The Fear You Won't Fall", by Joshua Radin.

The sun was coming up, red and lazy on the horizon. I leaned back in my chair...rubbing my bare arms, as it was a little chilly that morning. It was a good song...it made me feel like closing my eyes, and reminiscing about times gone by, and pleasant memories.

Ah, songs...

When I was younger, there was a boy I knew who called me really early one morning... It was still dark out, and I was still asleep...and I woke up with a start, because the song I used then as a ringtone was party music.  "What the..?" I went.

It was a boy (who was not just any boy to me then).

I didn't know whether I should be pleased or annoyed about it, but I do remember thinking, ‘Doesn’t this guy have someone else to bother at this late hour??” a little huffily. He called me again after I asked him to, because I didn’t pick up the first time, and I wanted to know why.

He did. We talked a little while, and then he said goodnight. My eyebrows were gradually disentangling themselves from the knot I had put them in in the middle of my forehead in my earlier annoyance. Spreading apart, going back to normal…

:-) And I remembered that I felt something jump inside my chest, a little flippety-flop of the heart that I allowed myself to feel. Hearing his voice, that familiar, always recognizable voice made me smile. And then I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

When I woke up again, it was to a morning like this one; calm, slightly chilly, and full of promise.

---------------

I love mornings. I always did. There was something about the beginning of a new day that makes me feel good, that I was given a brand new blank piece of paper to write another story on. And that, possibilities are endless, and any potential good thing was going to happen…

However, I don’t put too much stock on giving things meaning anymore. Ah, the frivolities of youth… perhaps, all it was was a phone call. I would have wanted it to mean something, that phone call, but thinking back now, I know I shouldn’t have been too hasty to think it meant something.

Because not everything does.

Life lesson number 649.

Love,

S.

 P.S. rereading this piece made me go, "Ick.I'm so corny."


I'm so corny, it sux. i hate it.

Video: My Man

Rachel sang this song in Glee (one of my fave shows currently)...and i liked it very much. When we were younger, Barbra Streisand was a regular on the weekend playlist. We had a greatest hits Barbra cd then (I packed it when i went to med school, and the last time i saw it in my pop's car, and now I haven't seen it since.)i was able to sing along when we watched that episode...and i couldn't get it out of my head for the rest of the day. I sang it everywhere.


Gotta love Barbra. :-)


"oh my man i love him so...he'll never know. 
All my life is just despair, but i don't care..." <--oh but i do.
When he takes me in his arms...the world is bright..." <--yup..


The trick to singing a good song is to internalize it. but that was my LSS song for the whole week. at least now it's over. :-) 

the Lings (the pet name we coresidents call each other), watching Glee during lunch break.

You Da Man.

Dr. Lee just had a birthday party at his fun house in QC.  Great food there. (GUess who thought up the words on this cake? LOL.)

There was good food, good company...

Anyway, Happy Birthday, Dr. Lee. You're one cool dude.

you da man. (Even for a consultant. haha.)

Candles in the Sky

Candles in the Sky. Roxas Boulevard, April 17, 2011.(Photo by: Me. :-))

 

I've come to the realization that to be treated like a treasure, one must act like one. Be one. In certain contexts. :-)

Anticipation

Timepiece. From Dr. JCP's uber cool
Balinese inspired clinic. April 2011.

Ooh…I love quickie lists!

For fun, if I had more time I’d probably…

Read Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita (someone told me the story one time and I want to read the tragicomedy myself), or Anna Karenina (which apparently takes one whole summer to finish), or heck, all three books of Lord of the Rings (because it’s so cool, and I haven’t had the time to do it?)…

I’d also learn how to speak in French, because baby, I don’t want to be the little cherie whose only claim to fame in the world is that I know what Je ne parles pas francais is. And besides, it’s fun.

Which also should be followed up with maybe I should learn how to do sign language. Which reminds me, one of my co-residents presented a case for grand rounds about her treating a psychotic patient who was both deaf and mute. Can you imagine how much of a challenge it must be to communicate with a patient like that one? (It’s a hard enough challenge to help someone to get well by talking to them about it…how much more if they can’t say anything. (I’d probably be unstoppable.haha)

Maybe I’d also like to put all the pictures I took ever since I started being a mad shutterbug (2005) together into a collection, because frankly, I never have gotten around to doing it.

I’d also like to Finish watching my six seasons of “The Sopranos”. ‘cause it’s a really cool show. *big grin*

And maybe play more tennis? Cute playmates optional.

Oh, and not just because I’m a fan of the Philippine Azkals, but I’d also give more time to learn  to love football. What can I say, I love the energy and enthusiasm, and I love the man.

J

Hmm..what else? Oh, learn how to cook inun-unan, and other useful meals besides. To be perfectly honest, I don’t even eat breakfast anymore… I have boxes of milk in my fridge, and I just grab one on the way out the door, and that’s instant breakfast.

Write out my notes and study all day is also another fun thing to do, if I had more time.  ;-)

Ooh, and I want to join a show choir too! ‘cause it’s not always fun to just keep singin in the shower all the time! I would love to break out into song every once in a while. :-p

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Time is a treasure, yes, but having money would be more fun too.

So here’s my  tick-off list:

·       Get a house for my family, with lots of space and fun stuff…and wide wide open spaces.

·        Get my own fun condo for living in. because I’m loving city living so much these days. ;-)

·        Have a good psychiatric rehabilitation facility with a sustainable medication program and psychosocial skills training  and community psychoeducation in my home town (‘cause there’s none officially to begin with, sadly.)

·         Lobby for government insurance covered psychiatric care for Filipinos (sorry, I can’t help the psychiatry causes plug.:-p).

·        

          Buy me books for a library.

·    OR…buy an Ipad2 with gigabytes worth of ebooks. Of course.

·   Buy the local elementary school a library (yes, I’m all for books for kids. J).

·   To walk in absolutely any store and buy what I want without having to look at the price tag.

·   And with that, to be able to pick out any place in the world to go to, with as many people as I want to, to go there. (super fun idea, especially if you have fun family like I have.)

·        

And well, I’d like to have some surgery (the best) done.

 Specifically: elbow joint replacement surgery. Tendon transfers. Ulnar nerve Neurorraphy. Scar surgery on my left arm.

Well, it’s not really an issue, but I kind of miss having a normal arm. And a good backhand. And maybe to not keep bumping my forearm into stuff (loss of proprioception happens sometimes.). and maybe to feel what it’s like to hold hands and touch my face with the left.

J Oops. Wish list, not Whine list. My bad.

Cheers!

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I’ve been having a strange feeling these days…

When I was kid growing up, I had big dreams.

(I still do.)

I always wanted to be doing something…I always wanted to be something bigger…be somewhere else.  I was a ball of energy, always wanting to explore, always wanting more than what I had, even to the point of dreaming of things near-impossible. So much so, that I remember that my mother’s constant admonition was that we should not dream too big.

For a time, I resented that, because I felt that there was really nothing I couldn’t do, nor achieve unless I put my mind to it.

Ah…the energy of youth is boundless and perhaps foolish at times.

It was only just recently when I realized that my mother didn’t necessarily mean that I shouldn’t dream big…I could now swear that she meant to dream big foolishly, but to have a plan to carry it through, and do it all, and get it all, at the right time.

Perhaps I was too impatient then, that I didn’t realize right away that everything that was meant to happen will happen…once you’re really ready for it. I’m still far from being contented with my lot in life now, that I’ll settle for whatever I have now.

But instead of discontent, it’s more of a feeling of…anticipation. I have this pent up energy now, but it is not borne of a need to covet more and more, I am just in wait. (I don’t know if you get what I mean…it’s like, basta, I know something good will happen.)

Yet, even in this semi-content state, I still probably wouldn’t mind the wish list I did for Gaya’s blog entry fun. And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, was my entry for Gaya’s Blog Rounds Extravaganza, episode 2.

J

Photo: Martian Sunrise

"The Martian Sunrise". May 20, 2011. Ermita, Manila.

I love sunrise. My mornings are a lot nicer these past few days, as my Tita Clarie and cousin Yakee are staying with me for the week. I get yummy breakfast food and dinner and good company. :-)

I love having family around. It helps remind me how lucky I really am.

Love,

S.

Plain and simple

Street kids enjoying a mid-rush hour nap.
May 18, 2011 (Photo by Me.)

I can’t sleep.

Well, at least not yet… I had just finished typing up my interaction sheet, a “must-have” for us residents, now that we are preparing for the accreditation team’s visit, so that the Department of Psychiatry will have its “usual” (expected) 5 year accreditation. This is quite an achievement, considering we are the only hospital (aside from my old hospital in Iloilo, where I did Medicine) to ever be awarded this privilege. Most hospitals get just three…or worse, one.

Paperwork, paperwork…

I love thee. I hate thee.

:-s I’m two-faced about this writing and paperwork thing. Oh yes, I do love to do paperwork, but in the same way, I don’t. I think it’s all too tedious at times. And, because I pride myself on having a pretty good memory for detail (especially if I really focus on the thing), I have the tendency to just say, “hey, I’ll do that when I get home.”

At the end of the day, when I’m home and all tired and drained, I usually just fall asleep, and don’t wake up until early morning. These past few weeks and days, I’ve been putting a conscious effort to just sit down (and not flit about) until I finish something.

And so here I am.

I’m on-duty now, waiting for a call. Hoping to fall asleep soon, but failing.

From the callroom’s foyer a manly scent wafts all the way over here, and I am annoyed.

It’s not supposed to be there. (I will have to discuss this infraction with my senior in the morning.)

----

The interaction sheet is a record of what each resident did that day, such as how many patients he’d seen, how many minutes or hours he spent with them, what came out of it, and what his management was.  It’s basically something to track our time at work with.

 The Accreditors in December will be looking over our paperwork and what we had done during the past year. (I’ve only started in January, and so far, my sheets are piling up…I don’t see that many patients compared to the other services, but hey, I was surprised at the number of files I’ve had to keep after all.)

i.e. “What do psychiatry residents do when they’re not talking to people?”

Documenting what you did every minute or every hour is just plain…toxic.

But it’s good, and I know I’ll be thankful when December comes, because it won’t be such a last-minute thing.

A little anxiety to get the juices flowing is essential to kick things off, but panic mode? Nah. None of that anymore… J

------

I hate ambiguity.

I dislike ambivalence.

I just like things plain and simple.

I was annoyed this morning when one of the consultants told my co-resident (who also graduated from the same medical school I did) and myself that we should’ve stayed in Iloilo because the Psychiatry program there was the best in the country. And this was from someone who was from our hospital, for goodness sake.  (I thought you said _ _ _ was the best, man? What gives??)

I have my reasons for wanting to do my training in Manila and not in Iloilo. I have nothing against working in Iloilo, but I always felt that I needed to fulfill a certain childhood dream to be here. Or that I needed to be where my heart was. Or that I needed to be where I was going to be taught the most lessons.

To have him say something like that sorely disappointed me.

And I hate being disappointed.

It hurts.

The Haunt

You could say my favorite haunt was a book shop.

 Here's one of my favorites, although I come here mainly to browse, because the stuff they have is so...expensive. Or as my lola would say, "so dear".

 It's owned by a little old lady, probably in her seventies, who asked me for a list of books that I was looking for (actually, they were for someone else) and my phone number...and promptly forgot about it.

I still love visiting it though.

Someday, I'll buy me my own F. Sionil Jose volume. Just you wait. :-)

Love,

S.

The Anais Way

“Like a hot knife cutting through butter…” was a friend’s description of the smoothness of Inoxcrom pens.

A pen lover (and member of a group of pen lovers online), he knew his pens, complete with names and models, like cars. I love pens too (to a fault), but not in that way. I was more of the “feeling” type, i.e. “if it feels right, it must BE right” (I use the same rule for love and  grammar, but that’s a different story).

We had just gotten our bi-annual salary bonuses, but instead of blowing a substantial amount on clothes and shoes (as single people my age are wont to do at some time or another), I held onto it for a considerably longer time…and successfully bought, as my first ever purchase, a puncher.

Yes, the kind that makes little holes in paper.

J

And then, I got myself what my grandmother would call, a souvenir. My grandmother is a fan of the lottery bets recreationally, with a couple of “steady numbers” memorized. Whenever she wins, she buys something special (usually a housedress, a duster in bright colors) to celebrate her good fortune.

I did the same. But not with a housedress, of course.

I bought…a pen.

Nothing too fancy, that's for sure, but it was a stainless steel Inoxcrom pen that [literally] had my name on it. I had it engraved with “Stephanie Eloisa”, and although it seems like a frivolous purchase, I assure you, it is not.

(No, you can’t wear a pen, and no, it is not JUST a pen, and yes, it was well worth it. :-p) 

I’ve been writing a lot of stuff these past few days, with my job being like it is…a never-ending recording of my patients’ life stories. It is a painstaking process to churn out voluminous chronicles of their lives, and though I may exaggerate somewhat, this is all true. And, writing it out with a great pen makes the difference.

Anais Nin didn’t write with a Panda. Or a Dong-A sign pen in her prime. She probably wrote with an…Inoxcrom. :-p

In her crazy lifetime full of living and loving, Anais Nin probably had to be able to sit down and write out her thoughts and do so enjoyably because of a good pen and paper. I’ve been reading snippets of diary entries (she’s most known as a diarist) and I’m halfway through Henry and June, a book tagged by some as extremely erotic. (Although I didn’t think so, because I was more fascinated by her accounts, by her wit, and by that way she described people around her with such palpable, and yet technically superior grace.)

Which is why I could not imagine her on twitter, though. Or on facebook. (Although her quote, "And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."  Would seem to sound awfully cool as a status update on FB, don’t you think?)

I feel the same way, I suppose. Although I enjoy twitter’s urgency and immediate fulfillment of one’s urge to document one’s little life events and current preoccupations, I for one, can’t fully embrace it. 

And in terms of status updates on Facebook, you can only say so much. Instant gratification of our need for posterity seems to be the norm nowadays, and I have nothing against that.

For a more pleasurable writing experience, I recommend a dose of Anais Nin.

To write. To sit down with pen and paper, to think, and rethink, and put your thoughts in order…with nary a thought for whether your current piece is going to be “popular” or not (Although if it is, then it won’t be quite so bad, either. ;-)).

I am not a blogger. Nor am I a writer just yet.

I, well… I just write.

I breathe, I live and I tell my stories.

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"We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect."

                                                                                    — Anaïs Nin

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Hi. This is my entry for the rejuvenated blog rounds, Round 2. Major Props to Doc Remo for hosting and getting the ball rolling again. We needed a jolt (a.k.a. a much-needed defibrillation to get our blogging hearts restarted again), right?

I’ve only started reading Anais Nin on and off since last week. After reading about her diaries and writing from a book about journal writing, I got really curious, mesmerized by her gift for describing people. It would come in handy for my job, I suppose, as we deal with detail… So I looked her up, and I got my hands on a copy of Henry and June, a sexually risqué piece of work, or so they say.

LOL. I mentioned this to a friend, and when he looked it up online he was aghast and adding the other ebook I shared with him, he commented, “Is this the type of literature you’re into?”. What can I say, he wasn’t a writer…and judging from his reaction, he may never understand the beauty of the words, the mellifluous harmony of writing which marks Anais Nin’s pieces.

Tsk tsk.

Admittedly, I’m not a big fan of her way of throwing herself at life without reserve, and of her loss of 

control on certain issues, but by golly, can she WRITE…and what style!

 She is a thin, permeable membrane of emotions and lusty love for living…which makes it almost scary to want to be like her. Yet, I know my limits. I want to live life to the fullest and write about it and all that, in a style like hers, but I can never fully let go.

(In the same way that I can’t overshare on twitter, facebook, and blogger. But this comes pretty close.)

Good morning. :-)

~ S. 

Quoted: from http://margauxcortez.tumblr.com/

“You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She’s not perfect - you aren’t either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break - her heart. So don’t hurt her, don’t change her, don’t analyze and don’t expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she’s not there.”

- Bob Marley

Word.

- Me.

When i need peace and serenity. This helps.

Koi Pond, Caleruega, Batangas, Philippines (April 2011)

This kiss

...makes all the difference. :-)
I watched this on TV April 29th, 2011, a rerun (along with the rest of the world, I suppose.).
:-)
I once commented to a friend..."Now that's a level kiss. That's a kiss between two equals, both are apparently in love with the other, and they are meeting in the middle."
True. Love.
Gotta love it.


~ S.