Bitter-bitter-an

Isang kabaliwan ang maging masaya.

Sino nagsabi na dapat ang tao maging masaya? Kalokohan yan.

Walang karapatan ang tao maging masaya. Dahil kahit gaano ka kasaya, kahit sa tingin mo ay nasa langit ka na sa sobrang saya mo, maghintay ka, mawawala lang yan ng parang bula.

Yun nga mas mahirap e. Kung mas mataas ang inabot ng kasiyahan mo, asahan mo, mas masakit ang lagapak mo sa lupa. Mas supalpal sa mukha mo ang katangahan na ginawa mo. At mas mararamdaman mo ang sakit ng kalungkutan, sa sobrang taas ng kasiyahang inabot mo.

Proportional yan e. Your happiness is directly proportional to your sadness once you reverse the equation. Di pa ma-disprove ang batas na yan. So an increase in happiness, means an increase in sadness. Simple lang diba?

Alalahanin mo na lang ang panahon na sobrang saya mo dahil sa isang regalong nakuha mo nung bata ka. Laruan na paka-asam-asam mo. Aba! Kung laruin mo araw-araw ay parang walang bukas. Kasama mo pa matulog. At sa bawat paghimbing mo, alam mo na kuntento ka na. Pero hindi! Isang araw, nakita mo na lang nasira ito, o nadungisan, o natastas. Basta, biglang nawalan ito ng silbi. Iyak mo na lang nun diba? Kaunting dabog sa nanay. Pagmamakaawa na bilhan ka uli. Pero dahil kasalanan mo, wala na tong kapalit. Kahit ilang luha pa ang iiyak mo, tapos na. Wala na. Move on girl!

At yun nga. Wala kang magawa kundi pilitin humanap ng bagong kasiyahan. Tiisin ang walang laruan. Matuto ka makuntento kung anong meron ka.

Bata ka pa nun. E ngayong malaki ka na? Ano na lang ang lungkot mo? Times 5 pa ang hirap! Dahil mas complicated na ang buhay. Hindi lang laro. Hindi lang dahil sa laruan. Ang daming factors na pampagulo pa lalo, at pampahirap.

Ano na lang ang saya mo na natanggap ka sa una mong trabaho diba? Matapos ang ilang panahon, di mo na rin makaya  dahil ang boss mo ay sobra kung tratuhin ka na halos nawalan ka na ng respeto sa sarili mo. Gusto mong umalis pero naduduwag ka. Ay girl! make up your mind! Stay or go! Sadness or sadness!

Ang saya mo nung na-promote ka. Malaki na sweldo mo. Permanente ka na. Pero goodness! Naging bahay nman na ang opisina mo. Kulang na lang ay pati maligo gawin mo na sa opisina... O baka nagawa mo na? Sige. Dyan ka na! Yan na life mo!

Ang saya mo sa bagong kotse mo, kaso tumaas ang gasulina o nagasgasan ito o baka nabangga at ang hassle na lang ng police report at insurance. Aba! Sa maynila ka nag-drive e. Pareho kayong may kasalanan!

Ang saya mo nung bago kayo ng boyfriend mo. Aba! Honeymoon stage kaya. Hanggang ayan, nawawala na. Di mo na alam kung ano nangyayari. Biglang labasan na ang kaliwa't kanang issues at dahilan na di mo alam kung san nanggaling na ang gusto mo lang isigaw ay "kasalanan ko ba yun? E di pa nga kita kilala nung panahon na yun e!". Susme! Simple lang dapat ito!

Gusto mo sumigaw dahil ang saya mo. 

Gusto mag-mura dahil sobrang lungkot mo. 

Gusto mo umiyak sa saya. 

Gusto mo humagulgol dahil sa lungkot

Di maalis ang ngiti mo sa sobrang kasiyahan.

Sa loob-loob mo, pinagtatawanan mo ang sarili mo dahil inulit mo na nman ang mali mo kaya malungkot ka.

Goodness!!! Ano ba naman ito? San ka na lang lulugar?

O di ba? Kabaliwan ang maging masaya?

4 pebrero 2014

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“Kung nagmahal ka ng taong di dapat at nasaktan ka, wag mong sisihin ang puso mo. Tumitibok lang yan para mag-supply ng dugo sa katawan mo. Ngayon, kung magaling ka sa anatomy at ang sisisihin mo naman ay ang hypothalamus mo na kumokontrol ng emotions mo, mali ka pa rin! Bakit? Utang na loob! Wag mong isisi sa body organs mo ang mga sama ng loob mo sa buhay! Tandaan mo: magiging masaya ka lang kung matututo kang tanggapin na hindi ang puso, utak, atay o bituka mo ang may kasalanan sa lahat ng nangyari sayo, kundi IKAW mismo!”  - Bob Ong

week 3: sustain

letting go

less messages. less conversations. For fear of hurting or being hurt

to immerse yourself with work just to keep the mind occupied

to push yourself to stand alone

to will yourself to move on without anyone's help

to start living again

and maybe in time

be able to walk alone

week 3: sustain

4 february 2014

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I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself.

Charlotte Brontë

Week 1: survive

prayers and mass

friends near and far

a moral compass

a down's syndrome patient asking for prayers

a girl crying in the chapel while praying

a reflex glance at black cars

avoiding eye contact

daily morning greetings

nightly conversations to smile and laugh

a sparkle in the eyes

maybe, i can live another week

week 1: survive

22 january 2014

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But in the end one needs more courage to live than to kill himself.

Albert Camus

prayers for strangers

I was in the adoration chapel, praying for God's mercy, tears welling up in my eyes. I committed to pray the rosary especially when i feel like crying. At least this way, my eyes and lips get to do something worthwhile. After the sign of the cross, i stood up, went to get my shoes, then i heard a woman's voice calling "Miss, miss". A reflex to such impersonal recognition, i looked at her. She was cradling her son, who had Down's syndrome. "Yes po?", i politely asked her, half expecting her to ask for alms. "Miss, makiusap lang po ako. Ipag-pray nyo naman po ang anak ko na sana matanggap sya sa Down's syndrome society. Marami po kasing benefits dun." That took a while to register until i told her, "opo ma'am. Isasama ko po sya sa dasal ko parati". "Salamat po" was her joyful reply.

I was still processing what happened. And what could that have meant at this time of my life. I went to hear mass after. At the end of the mass, i sat down for a while. Collecting my thoughts, trying to control my own sorrows, when i heard someone sniffling. I looked to my left and kneeling on the next row of pews was a girl, crying and praying. I have seen and been through such depression, and i know how one can be left hopeless enough to succumb to crying while praying. I can feel her heart's pain as she wipes down every tear that falls on her cheek. I am not sure if i should approach her or leave her in her solitude. Helpless as she is, i knelt down and prayed to God to have mercy on her and to ease her pain.

It's been more than a week and i have been praying for God to have mercy on me and to show me miracles. But each time i do, i tend to believe that  these two strangers are my miracles. I pray for them daily and may God show them His mercy.

22 january 2014

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Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.

---C.S. Lewis

insanity in a day

days of tears and sadness, when as if the world has left me with nothing

then comes a ray of sunshine, simple meetings, simple messages, that unexpectedly made me smile

as my head lingers above the clouds, a vision pulls me back to reality, reminding me that my grief has not ended

attempts to break away from the harshness of pain blurs my mind to the little joys that surround me

until i hear that beep, asking me, and giving me once again that funny flutter of butterflies in my stomach

is it too soon? is it too fast?

is it time to go through this again?

i do not know.

swirling in my head are the ups and downs of emotions that is driving me insane

do i have to choose now?

16 january 2014

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A sense of freedom

"For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others".- Nelson Mandela 

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I can say that i was educated by the government of the Philippines. My elementary education aside, i have been taught in a public school during the formative years of high school and college. I have walked out of class to join  rallies, see a pill box explode meters away from me, join students backed up against the wall as frat men chase each other w/ cutters, and ultimately see an unknowing college student gunned down to death and be rushed to the nearest hospital. But despite this seemingly morbid scenarios, I still value my public eduction, and it was instilled in my mind the real freedom that was given to me. I experienced the mass walk-out of students with professors included, when the people gathered in front of the EDSA shrine for the second people power. Seeing the senators and the generals walk by, as one by one they declared their support to oust President Estrada. I have never been so proud to be a Filipino. I have learned to sing UP Naming Mahal and the Philippine national anthem with my fist raised in the air.

And thus, I continue post-grad training in medicine in a government institution, and even pursue further residency training in a government hospital. I did try to embark on a private road for my residency training, but it was a failed course. "I wanted more learning" was my reason for leaving. And so i learned. I learned from the patients with different cases that we handled. I have taken on the knowledge passed to me by my seniors and teach them to my juniors and students. I treasured every teaching rounds done by the expert consultants as they showcase their skills. I am still at awe whenever I see a case that even with the most minimal of diagnostics, a severly ill patient can be pulled out of death, and have him walk out of the hospital alive. oohh! the learning was intense and cutthroat.

And i learned big time. What i got from my 3 years of residency experience in PGH was multi-tasking to a level unimaginable. I was not just a doctor, i was also a nurse, a social worker, a "manang" and a "bantay." No one was in charge of my patients except me. If i do not make rounds on my patients, no one will. If I do not re-order the entries of the fellows, they will not be carried out by the nurses. I've learned to prepare inotropes and hook them on a hypotensive patient. I have learned to mix antibiotics and push them thru the IV line of septic patients. I have begged for blood, run up to the blood bank to waive the crossmatching, and hook the blood to a patient with massive gastrointestinal bleeding (after a dose of hydrocortisone and diphenhydramine that is). I have pushed a dyspneic patient on a stretcher, through the crooked hallways of the hospital, up the rickety elevators to the echo room and have a massive tamponade stare at you for an emergency pericardiostomy. And I have begged for funds, sought the help of social service, talked to different charitable foundations, even the church to give a patient money so that she can have dialysis. 

Three years of residency has not only taught me to have a thick face, to endure the roughness of the system, but to eventually be numb to the labyrinth of the hospital system. This bureaucracy must have trickled down from the high government to the lowest ranks in the hospital. I have learned to see the price of our freedom- the overflow of people and yet still have a shortage of skilled workers, the abundance of knowledge yet still see the lack of education among the people, the richness of our resources, but have poverty reek throughout the hospital.

Oh yes! Freedom has a price. And as i once again sing the national anthem, clench my fist, i am unsure if i should raise my hands or keep it on my chest. It made me think, is this the price of freedom?

a breath of peace

No. This is not a post-election blah-blah about how our freedom is once more exercised. I think we can see that with our blind eyes (ye.s i say this because I do not think that we are entirely free. But this is a different story). Sorry to be a disappointment, but i speak of a different kind of peace.

Today, i found myself distraught, confused, panicky, maybe a little hormonal. Almost to the point of what we have often referred to in medical school as BRP or brief reactive psychosis. I cannot put a grasp on it but I cannot seem to bring myself to waking up and living another day.

Yes. Today I woke up wanting to sleep eternally. Something was holding me back, preventing me from living a life, as if chains were wrapped around my neck, strangling me to death. My head hurts so much not knowing what to do... and so, I've gone auto-pilot just to survive.

I went to the hospital to make rounds- in a pair of pant-shorts and black high heels, covered by my smock gown, appearing as if nothing is wrong, when in fact, my mind is not in the same room as I am. still, i did my job-- in auto-pilot that is. did what was required of me, nothing more but nothing less.

however, in the process of my absent-mindedness, in between walking up and down the stairs and texting and calling using any of my 2 cellphones, i happened to have dropped both in the process, causing one to simply reboot. this especially added to the stress i was feeling because i cannot simply fix it or i am just not in the proper mind to know what to do...

and so i went home. hooked it to my laptop and restored it to initial settings. for the next 2 hours, in front of the TV, i found my surroundings suddenly silent.

amidst the hustle and bustle of the city life, the noise of the hospital, the loudness of the paging system and the calls, my mind seemed to have been overwhelmed by the insanity of the world i chose to pursue. and unfortunately, i wasn't able to handle it.

but for that 2 hours, of laying back, of rebooting, of silence, i got to re-arrange my thoughts and, like my phone, re-boot my mind. re-focus on what i came to do. revert back to my goals and live towards a vision i've always imagined.

and so, i find myself thankful, being released from such chaos. for that few hours, i found myself at peace

18 may 2013