kittycrinkles

If you could only listen to one song for the next month, which would it be?

2011-03-31T15:23:00.001+08:00

"Your Hand in Mine" by Explosions in the Sky, all versions. :)

Go ahead. Ask. :)

formspring.me

2011-03-31T15:22:00.001+08:00

Go ahead. Ask. :) http://formspring.me/jemapelleivy

what is it that will really make you happy?

2011-01-04T21:36:00.001+08:00

Thank you for being concerned, anonymous person. :)

Well, I would have to quote Kant because he stated it very succinctly: "The grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for."

I only have 1 out of the 3 at the moment. Would you deign to help me? ;)

Go ahead. Ask. :)

Are you happy?

2010-12-28T17:35:00.001+08:00

I am on my way to being my happiest. :)

Go ahead. Ask. :)

If you could have been the author of any book, what would it have been?

2010-11-14T00:18:00.001+08:00

Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit. Silmarillion. And everything else Tolkien created. :)

Reading his worlds take so much effort, but those books deserve to be read like that. Because Tolkien put so much into it. He created songs, poems, countries, and creatures. It made me wish it was all real.

Go ahead. Ask. :)

Cats or Dogs?

2010-10-30T15:32:00.001+08:00

Cats! ;)

Ask. You know you want to... Haha!

If you could master one skill what would it be?

2010-10-17T16:45:00.001+08:00

Read people's minds.

Oh wait, I thought the question was what power I would want to have. ;)

Ask. You know you want to... Haha!

Where is your dream wedding venue? =P

2010-09-22T17:31:00.001+08:00

Beside a body of water --- could be the sea or a lake or a falls. :)

Ask. You know you want to... Haha!

Then what is your favorite Beatles song? :D

2010-09-07T22:27:00.002+08:00

Since you asked for it, Thea, and I heart you very much, this is my favorite Beatles song sung straight from my bathroom! :p

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=axlzvgQrTqk

Play

Drop me a line at my formspring!

Celebrity crush?

2010-09-04T15:56:00.001+08:00

"Once my job is done on the film, it is really none of my business." I just adore Johnny Depp. How's that for intellectual celebrity crushing? :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KwkS-ERuNuk

Play

Drop me a line, you know you want to... XOXO Haha!

I loved your pics sa Pundaquit! Where is your next stop?

2010-09-03T16:19:00.001+08:00

Sadly, I'm gonna be cooped inside Manila for the next two months.

Wean wants to go back for Anawangin and Nagsasa. Chabs wants Pangasinan. Family has plans to go Hongkong or Singapore or Thailand in sembreak month. Geca wants to go to Boracay in December.

Sana may mga matuloy! *crossesfingersandtoes*

Drop me a line, you know you want to... XOXO Haha!

If you could instantly become fluent in another language, which language would you pick?

2010-09-01T13:08:00.001+08:00

French!!!

I find that it makes my voice sound really nice and chic. :p

Drop me a line, you know you want to... XOXO Haha!

Who would you want to marry: OJ Simpson or Tiger Woods? :p

2010-08-31T12:01:00.001+08:00

I'd pick Tiger Woods 'cause at least I'd get part of his money and get to keep on living even with a broken heart.

But, I'd hope for a husband who is neither homicidal nor a philanderer. :)

Drop me a line, you know you want to... XOXO Haha!

What was the last book you read?

2010-08-30T19:47:00.001+08:00

"The Shadow of the Wind" by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. Such a wonderful, wonderful piece of writing! :)

Still haven't finished "Atlas Shrugged" by Ayn Rand and "Anansi Boys" by Neil Gaiman. And I call myself a book lover. Sheesh.

Drop me a line, you know you want to... XOXO Haha!

Did you dream last night? Please share the details!

2010-08-26T23:01:00.001+08:00

It was oddly one of me at the altar with an unknown man. All I know was that he was taller and he had better skin than me. Haha! We had finished our vows and were about to share our first kiss.

Then, I woke up.

Analyze that? :p

Drop me a line, you know you want to... XOXO Haha!

If you could go back in time 10 years and tell your younger self something, what would it be?

2010-08-25T20:47:00.001+08:00

I actually wrote a letter to my 16-year old self yesterday: http://eamyvi.wordpress.com/2010/08/25/i-should-have-gotten-this-ten-years-ago/

I honestly could have written more. But then, that would be cheating. :p

Gimme something to think... :p

How would you describe your style?

2010-08-25T19:36:00.001+08:00

Comfortable, classic, cute. :)

But I think I have to change it up. I'm always mistaken for a college student. Hohum.

Gimme something to think... :p

Would you rather have the ability to fly, or the ability to breathe underwater?

2010-08-25T01:38:00.001+08:00

Breathe underwater. And also have that fluorescent skin so I can swim in the deepest trenches. :)

Gimme something to think... :p

What YouTube video made you laugh recently?

2010-08-24T00:27:00.001+08:00

A video of our more seasoned colleagues with our Laguna Lake project singing & dancing to a children's folk song: http://youtu.be/iydp-Kdn-40

I even have a 2-second cameo. Haha!

Cheer me up, buttercup...

What can you do to change healthcare in the Philippines?

2010-08-23T17:04:00.001+08:00

Aba't pang-Miss Universe naman ang mga tanong mo! I need a korona first before I give my 1st place-winning answer. :p

Ask and ye shall receive... :)

What's the best place near you to get a drink?

2010-08-23T02:04:00.001+08:00

I live four blocks away from Nakpil Street in Malate. You can get a beer for 25 pesos by bulk there.

The sheer proximity has allowed my mother to see me tipsy or drunk more than just a couple of times. Yes, I always ALWAYS go home. :)

Ask and ye shall receive... :)

What's your favorite season of the year?

2010-08-22T17:43:00.002+08:00

Summer!!!

I have an excuse for my natural tan.
You only need sunblock, a few pairs of slippers, a new swimsuit, summer dresses, and a plan.
And, it’s my birthday!

Ask and ye shall receive... my wit on FORMSPRING.ME

I may not be going back.

2010-08-22T00:21:00.002+08:00

First, it was Tabulas. Then, it became Livejournal.

I was then introduced to Blogger in May 2005.

Now, I have moved on to a different blog address.

http://eamyvi.wordpress.com

I am there, and being wordy as ever.

It's hard to go back in time when, at that time, I looked like sh*t.

2010-08-02T00:56:00.002+08:00

With the stresses that the life of being a fully-taxable adult brings, we often find ourselves wishing we could go back to them “good ole days of naivete”, when your biggest problem was how to finish a math homework before your favorite show starts at 9 pm.

I woke up today, feeling extremely wistful. So, I looked at some old homework (blame the pack rat in me) and even older pictures. The emotional nostalgia quickly morphed into feelings of disgust and horror.

As a kid, my mother was obviously the one responsible for all the styles I sported.

Then, I started coming up with my own choices.

My inspiration? It was probably whatever felt bulky, shapeless and huge, from the looks of it.

Denim jackets over acid-washed jeans? Can't believe it? See picture! I also thought khaki with sneakers was the ultimate of coolness.

Four words: “WHATTHEHELL was I thinking?”

But, that was me and “good ole days of (fashion) naivete”… and I am just so happy that it’s all over. Um, I think so.

I have never been in love.

2010-07-24T12:53:00.004+08:00

As I began the mundane task of tagging each of my old entries on this blog, I realized I've never really written about stuff that deserved the "heart matters" tag.

I turned 26 three months ago. I'm older than a lot of the patients I've encountered who already have at least one child. The cousins who are in my age group are either married or in a stable relationship. I am not.

I wonder if I am mentally incapable of finding love. I wonder if I will ever find that one man who can truly fascinate me as much as my life fascinates him.

"Oo naman" (Of course, you will) is what a well-meaning friend said when I voiced this out loud. Every little girl dreams of that perfect wedding where she finally shares her life with the man who will accept her for all her faults and live with her through all the tribulations. I was that girl, too, but none of the men I've met have ever come close to that.

When I see couples in a restaurant, at a moviehouse or heck, even at home (with my parents), I feel curious. How were they able to find that person who deserved their time and their affection? How would it feel to trust your heart in the hands of somebody else's?

Love, they say, is the most bittersweet experience. I have been privy to stories of heartbreaks and shattered dreams. "Ang pinakamahirap pala ay iyong pagkagising mo sa umaga at alam mong hindi ka na niya mahal." (I've realized that the most difficult part is waking up in the morning and knowing that he doesn't love you anymore.) When I hear of these things, I feel lucky that I am not as vulnerable to have my heart trampled on.

I hate to admit it, but I don't think my heart can endure such pain.

Sing about our mortality.

2010-07-23T22:38:00.006+08:00

After hearing The Fray's "How to Save a Life" (a Youtube link) again after a couple of years since it was first (ab)used on American TV, I realize that I cannot think of any other music that can thoroughly reflect the immense truth that is human mortality.

I can't really pinpoint when I first started to have it --- that god complex that people accuse doctors of having. I encounter a patient and he becomes this puzzle (often easy, sometimes just average) that I do my darndest to solve. I studied for almost ten years, five of which were for medical school. I knew more than the patient ever would about his sickness. When the treatment I give him eases his pain (or fever or whichever symptom he had), I move on to the next patient, feeling very knowledgeable and courageous that yes, I can make the next one better too!

A patient then comes, not looking for a cure, but for answers. I suddenly realize I don't have any for him. I feel almost sick that I cannot even assuage his worries. I would then feel the uselessness of my medical degree, the limitations of my skill, and the frustrating transience of human existence.

When I was a medical clerk, my patient's daughter, a 40 plus year old married woman, came to me, crying. She said, "Nagpapasalamat po kami at ipinaglaban ninyo ang buhay ni nanay. (We would like to thank you for fighting for our mother's life.)" Her mother had multiple myeloma and a particularly severe pneumonia, and was 76 years old. Feeling exhausted and desperate, I think I cried when I went home that night. She died the next day.

People say that doctors eventually become jaded, eventually become these robots who would hardly feel an emotion when confronted with death. I disagree. As long as you are mortal, you can never become jaded. Yes, you may see a doctor calmly say a patient has some type of cancer and may not survive chemotherapy, but you would have to imagine the anguish, the distraught that giving such news has given to the doctor.

I feel a lot more empathy for the people I try to help than I will ever dare to admit.

What happened this time last year?

2010-07-22T21:23:00.005+08:00

I was panicking my soul into oblivion.

It was less than two weeks into the most important exams of my adult life -- the Philippine Licensure Exam for Physicians. I was feeling very ill-prepared and literally on the brink of my usually level-headed sanity.

I went to church every Thursday morning to pray to St. Jude Thaddaeus. I heard mass again every Sunday at the PGH Chapel, not just to pray, but also to see that all-too familiar anxiety on the faces of my classmates and fellow PGH interns. I leisurely ate breakfast, lunch and dinner with the same anticipation a deathrow inmate would for his last meal.

I was very thankful for the presence of my friends. Not just my med school friends. I also randomly texted non-med friends and one of them even helped me stay sane the most. (Thanks Rohayna!)

One July Friday, my med school friends (whom I bunked in with) were surprised to see me emerge from the bedroom in non-house clothes. "Where do you think you're going?" Iyay looked like she was about to pounce on me to prevent me from going insane.

"I'm watching Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince." I declared. And, that my friends is true fanaticism.

Or just true-blue boards-induced psychosis.

Either way, it worked. I passed.

Infatuations are so inconvenient.

2010-07-21T16:36:00.004+08:00

A flirty comment on my Facebook page. Pow! Supraventricular tachycardia.

When I enter the room and the first thing I see is his disarming, toothy smile. Boom. I've coded.

I cannot come to a place where I know he'd be there with just my usual cotton dress and flipflops. I have to spritz on my sister's perfume, apply mascara to emphasize my naturally long lashes and check constantly for food stuck in my teeth.

And when he's there, standing in front of me with his cute grinning face, it always feels like I'm bare-faced and greasy, with knees uncontrollably shaking.

When will this inconvenience end???

Like the way it always does... when another boy's smile captures this restless heart.

I am not old enough to be this old.

2010-07-10T23:37:00.006+08:00

Today, I chanced upon this video: "What will I be when I grow up?"

In it, a 10 year old boy considers working with animals like the rest of his family. What made this page even better were the comments made by the children below it. It is also interesting how many of them wrote they wanted to be a doctor.

As a kid, I was never like them. I never wanted to be a doctor. As a 10 year old girl, this was my particular vision:

I go everyday to school even in my late twenties. Why? Because I am the English teacher of fifty adorable, smiling Grade 3 students. I walk into a classroom, armed with three colors of chalk (white, green and blue) and an eraser. I carry books in my yellow satchel bag. I get a variety of gifts from my students every Christmastime.
At the end of each schoolday, my husband fetches me from school. He is in a pinstriped suit and shiny black leather shoes. He kisses me on the cheek before we part ways on our home's driveway. We had to part ways because my two adorable children (Lana, 5, and Daniel, 4) are already raring to smother each of us with hugs and kisses.

For all my twenty-six years, I have just realized I never stopped dreaming of having all this. My career aspiration has changed, but I am still basking in the grateful smiles of the people I love to serve (my patients). I may not have a husband now and moreso beautiful little children, but I am not closing my doors on the possibility... never closing my doors.

I am still dreaming --- something I never thought I still had to do after going past twenty-five. I may not be old enough to be this old.

But, I relish every minute I am given of it.

I have never been away.

2010-07-10T11:04:00.003+08:00

I would like to sincerely believe that, but in truth, I have been such a "neglector".

It is a bit ironic (understatement of the quarter!) that my last post was about posting a little more diligently. I can blame my very toxic PGH clerkship, the whole of PGH internship and that hysterical drama (mostly mine) that was studying for the boards (Philippine Licensure Exam for Physicians). But I really shouldn't. I only have myself and my aging fingers to blame.

At twenty-six years old, I am now "licensed to heal" in the Philippines. I should have believed that person who said that "getting the license is just the beginning." It will be almost a year since the MD became official, but I still feel like I am "stuck in a rut".

Sometimes, I regret going into med school.

There, I said it. Making it even more true, but not making me feel any bit better.

My apologies for coming back with such gloomy truths, so here is a beautiful (albeit still with hints of sadness) song to lighten up your day. I gotta admit I only noticed this song when I watched it on "(500) Days of Summer" (which was only a month ago).

"Quelqu'un ma dit" by Carla Bruni-Sarkozy

Who invented tagging?

2008-01-06T09:34:00.001+08:00

I surely don't have an answer for that. If you do have, the geekiness in me terribly wants to know.

I was tagged by my bestest friend/panatiko (haha!), Ninsy.

How long have you been blogging?
I must have become part of the blog-osphere while I was wandering aimlessly in the worldwide web when I was still in my early years of high school. That was approximately ten years ago.
My first venture was with Tabulas and my blog merely shared the superficialities of my high school life. I wish I had kept that one up if only to look back on the posts I did and bawl my eyes out at how simpler life was back then (haha!).
I eventually made a Livejournal account, which I found to be more customizable than my first one was. So, that was where I spent many years posting my nonsense in my little spot in the web. When my posts became seriously collegiate (= boring for non-medical people), I started looking for a different place to vent my medicine-ridden angst.
I decided to create this blogspot account and vowed to keep it updated. But as medlife would have it, I have not been able to be true to that "vow" and just occasionally pop in an entry (a) when desperate times called for procrastination, (b) when this serious bum needed literary relief, and (c) when a friend tags me (yoiks!).
I also have Multiply where I literally dump all my photos.

What inspired you to write a blog and who are your mentors?

I'm a writing nut. I've been a fan of the written word long before blogging became popular.
I used to fill notebooks with my thoughts, no matter how juvenile they got (Ex. Dear Kitty, I saw *toot* today and he looked cute in spite of all the sweat... blahblah). I also kept notebooks which were strictly for the poems, short stories and novelettes I concocted.
It is a huge wonder for my friends why I went into medicine when I was all about writing in high school and had journalism as my first choice in UPCAT. (However my writing skills have regressed since I went into medicine. Biggest proof: these many sentences with parentheses.)
So, one could say that nobody inspired me to blog. I just like to write and blogging allows me to do that... endlessly.

Are you trying to make money online, or just doing it for fun?

Getting paid to write my thoughts would be a dream. Can't you make money and have fun? I think this question was made by some self-righteous blogger who'd much rather steal scraps from dogs than get paid for blogging.
(Oops. PMS. Hehe.)

Tell me 3 things you LOVE about being online.

Visiting sites (e.g. browsing Peyups, SDN forums, Pinoyharrypotter) and guilty pleasures (e.g. online "window" shopping at StealThatLook, shopcrazy and Dash).
Connecting with people through Friendster and Yahoo! Messenger.
Blogging, and free downloads wherever (e.g. PC games).

Tell me 3 things you STRUGGLE within the online world.

I would have wanted to keep my blogs updated. I do love to write. Unfortunately, the demands and stresses of my chosen career have prevented me from doing so.
I'm not a techie person. The skills I have are limited to basic HTML and Microsoft Office. I actually asked my sister's boyfriend to make a Multiply layout for me. I envy bloggers who have very organized websites, where they have a gallery for their pictures, a clean layout and a well-kept tags area.
Money. I like browsing through online sites like Ebay, but never get to buy any. I need moolah (as every non-working shopper does, haha!).

Who should I tag really? Anyone who wishes to pour out their heart and soul should answer these. Haha!

____________________

My block's shifting into Surgery rotation this Wednesday. A month from now, we'd be in Internal Medicine. This news can only mean one thing: 89% possibility of having zero entries until April.

HAPPY NEW YEAR! Toodles!

Gimme a bowl of Chicken Soup.

2007-10-03T09:39:00.000+08:00

To be honest, I am not surprised to experience "compassion fatigue". But, I am surprised that I have experienced it this early on in my medical school life.

But, when I read this post in the pinoy.md online forums (link), I felt happy. These were the exact words I needed to read and reread again each dreadful moment that "compassion fatigue" sets in.

Below is an abridged version of the 10 reminders and the poster's brief reminder on the perils of being in med school...

... Next year, most of you will match headstrong (or headfirst) into the frontline of that battlefield called internship. This battle is about facing one of our worst fears - confronting and overcoming your vulnerabilities and insecurities... The responsibilities that come with the honor of being addressed as “Doctor” must never be underestimated. Nothing will fully prepare you for the emotional roller-coaster ride that entails. Hopefully, this article might just help that a little bit.

Point 1: Know thy limitations. ... A good doctor never stops asking and learning because as you grow older you will learn the truth in that cliche –“the more you learn, the less you will realize you knew”.
Point 2: Be honest with thyself and be honest with others. ... Lying will undermine your credibility as a doctor in people’s minds in the long run.
Point 3: Learn from thy mistakes. This is a hard one, and I sometimes think only a saint can do this right. Face up to your failures, have the courage of admitting it to yourself and hopefully to others. ...
Point 4: If thou want to be treated with respect, thou have to earn it. Work hard,and others will work hard for you. Treat your patients/ nurses/ peers/ consultants/ examiners (PS: not in any particular order) nicely, and they will treat you well...
Point 5: Avoid losing thyself in The System. It is very easy to become depersonalized in the chaotic hospital environment because of the stressful atmosphere and stereotyped roles each of us has to play. Very often the demanding patient fails to see that tired, discouraged young person behind the surgical mask, and conversely, the impersonal doctor fails to see that once-a-beautiful-young mother-now-turned-bald-and-bloated “case of lymphoma day 10 post stem-transplant” Try putting yourself into someone’s shoes* (note*: a figure of speech for C-O-M-P-A-S-S-I-O-N, just in case) for a minute, then your anger/ prejudice/ frustration/ disgust ..etc will dissipate.
Point 6: Thou shall learn to handle stress in thy own way. One of the ways when I get too overwhelmed with the stress of a situation is to stand back, take a deep breath and then tell myself, “yes, I am having a really bad day right now. But one day I am going to look back and tell myself that, gee, that was a really bad day, but I got over it just like any other regular bad days in my life”. The fact is you should not bottle up stress because it will wear you out in the long run. You need to wash it away like a bad odor as soon as it happens to you...
Point 7: Develop a sense of humor. Black humor helps a lot...
Point 8: The futility of constant worrying. There is no point worrying about things that have not yet happened and things that are well in the past. Constant worrying will only wear you out and turn you into a sleepless zombie, and the worst thing is, worrying stops you from focusing on the Present. ...
Point 9: Reward thyself after a long day, because thou deserve it. Look after yourself. If you think you are physically / emotionally not 100%, go and get help... Why study medicine to help others when you could hardly help yourself in the first place?
Point 10: Make short-term goals that thou can reach, and most of all, have hope. Always have the Big Picture in your mind i.e. why do you put yourself through medical school in the first place and what do you want out of it. Don’t burn yourself out too soon. You are only in your twenties and you have a lot more life to catch up...

I am grieving.

2007-09-24T00:03:00.001+08:00

Every time my patient dies, I grieve.

It is true that no medical student can ever forget the first mortality.

In my three weeks with Pediatrics, I had two.

I won't forget you, Trixie and Vanessa. I shall pray for your souls.

Life has its cruel ironies.

2007-09-17T02:36:00.001+08:00

Yesterday in PGH, six lives shared a similar story with three very different outcomes.

From Cebu, 8 month old conjoined twins Rezzie and Rezzia were brought to PGH last year for further surgical management. They were joined at the chest and the abdomen. They are still undergoing several pre-operative workups.

Two weeks ago, media flocked to the PGH ER to catch a glimpse of the ten-days old conjoined Romano twins from Samar. I was on duty then at the Pedia ER and I could see the distraught in the face of the twins' father. All we could tell him then was that the twins would still have to go through some imaging procedures and lab tests before a final course of management can be determined. I learned of the verdict on TV a week later: the twins shared a heart. To separate them would kill both of them instantly.

There was also one "catch" at PGH this week of twins from a first-time mother. It was expected that one of the twins had a debilitating physical defect. But, it was not expected that the twins were conjoined, complicating their situation even more. They were immediately brought to intensive care and eventually died in the afternoon of the same day.

Isn't it sad that these children were given lives that they weren't physically able to really live? Isn't it ironic that we carry on with our lives, often taking for granted the minutes and hours given to us?

Their parents and other concerned people fought and are still fighting to keep these twins alive. And, I found it really ironic how some people would choose to destroy their lives figuratively and literally to rebel or to just give up.

For me, no matter what happens,
my life is precious
and I am going to live it
the best damn way I know how.

I am very proud of her!

2007-08-27T21:17:00.001+08:00

After all the emotional turmoil (the panicking a month before the June 2007 boards, the angry run-ins with the unsophisticated in the unending queues at the PRC) and the mental anguish, you have finally been given this moment, a moment that you truly deserve.
My everdearest sister is now a Philippine-registered nurse!
I am deliriously happy for you, dear, and a million times proud.
(I actually shed a tear when I saw her name. I could just imagine how I would be two years from now... hehe.)

I am sooo gonna brag about you.

I ought to be a doctor...

2007-08-21T21:14:00.001+08:00

... because I want to know the reason for every bump, every ache, and every symptom.

... because I long to be the person that others turn to for advice and for assistance.

... because I become happiest when I make a patient smile.

... because nothing can dissuade me otherwise.

Congratulations to all the new Filipino physicians! (Results are here.)

Biggest shout-out goes to the UPCM Class of 2007! 99% (141/142) passed the boards. You have made all Peyups people proud.

The rain gets me down.

2007-08-16T09:20:00.001+08:00

I've never been a fan of rain.

Does this have something to do with my birthday being in the summer? It can be so.

But, the rain also brings in a lot of bad things. I had an intern share a story about a time in her clerkship when she was on ER duty and she thought less people would come to the ER because it was raining. But, she was so wrong. Lots of patients came in for acute manifestations of certain diseases, needing emergency care. Vehicular accident was also the number one reason why the area for surgical patients never had a vacancy.

During the rainy season, there are more accidents, more injuries, more fatalities. People get sick more when there is rain. I always get sick during the rainy season.

No wonder rain always gets me down.

Reality bites.

2007-07-03T21:55:00.001+08:00

Studying in PGH has its perks.

I get to rub elbows with the most talented doctors in each medical field and gain the best learning. With the sheer volume of patients arriving, I also have the chance to be clinically exposed to even the rarest of diseases.

But for every good thing, there's a catch.

The one thing I knew could happen but never thought would actually happen to me did... just yesterday, while I was on ward duty.

Nanakawan ako.

Nakuha ang stethoscope ko (worth 3K), blood pressure app ko and the diagnostic set (ophthalmoscope & otoscope, worth around 11K) na hiniram ko lang from a friend.

The worst part of it was somebody snuck inside the callroom while I was joining my blockmates in rounds. My whole bag was taken, along with the precious stuff I just mentioned.

Ika nga ng boyfriend ni Iyay, "Sila na nga ang tinutulungan mo, nanakawan ka pa." He has this masterplan to set up booby traps in all callrooms.

We have been warned a lot about this.

I understand that PGH patients are usually always down in their luck, with not enough money to buy medicines or equipment. I've met patients who died just because they couldn't afford the therapy... even if it was just therapy that they were spending on.

But, I still can't understand why people have to stoop to their lowest, why they have to do such crimes.

Ika nga ni Margie, "Bakit kasi hindi na lang tayo magmahalan lahat? Wala nang mga nakawan." Her wallet got stolen last month as we were seeing ophtha patients one morning.

Reaction? Isang gigantic ditto... at malakas na buntong-hininga.

=(

This is my motto.

2007-06-13T19:17:00.001+08:00

"Begin with the end in mind."

Nothing motivates me more than knowing what I can achieve after all that's been done.

Hello clerkship!

I shall get my goals.

2007-06-03T15:22:00.001+08:00

This is abridged from Dr. Ed Gatchalian's message at my college's convocation this year.

Have a dream since all realities start with a dream. Dream and go after your dream. All we need to do is employ.
You must take 100% responsibility for your actions. Stop blaming events, the weather, the political situation, the traffic at EDSA, the congress and senate. The day you change your response is the day your life will begin to get better.
Make a list of what your want in your life. Create a breakthrough goal. Activate powers of your subconscious by making that list of goals. “If you are bored with life, if you don’t get up every morning with a burning desire to do things- then you don’t have enough goals."
Lock in on your target. The greatest danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but that it is too low we reach it. That’s what super achievers are made of. The only difference between them and us is that they dream big.
Share your vision for maximum effect. Some people will help you make it happen. And every time you share your vision , you reinforce your own subconscious belief that you can achieve it. Associate with successful people.
Believe you can do it. Napoleon Hill said whatever your mind can conceive and achieve, it can achieve. Obstacles and fears and roadblocks happen. These are part of the process, accept them, be patient, wait, go around them.
Get going. The secret of getting ahead is getting started. But you have to break them down into manageable tasks, then start with the first step.
Visualize and verbalize what you want. Visualize what you want to create. Get the feelings that go with it. In other words, you have to affirm what you want. Visualization activates the creative powers of your subconscious mind... it magnetizes and attracts people. It harnesses resources and opportunities..
Not being afraid to make mistakes and be willing to pay the price... “Things may come to those who wait, but only the things left by those who hustle.” Go the extra mile. Michelangelo says, “If people know how hard I had to work to gain my mastery, it wouldn’t seem wonderful at all”.
Lastly, reward yourself and appreciate others. If you do something great, bask in the limelight but don’t lose sight of the earth. Cherish each experience, because in the end, it’s all about relationships and love.

Smile for 2007.

2007-04-22T21:25:00.001+08:00

This post was partially inspired by Mme. Ellen, and of course, by the coming change that is the year 2007.

I have made a lot of choices in the past that have (helped? molded?) morphed(!) me into the human being I am today.

Others were done by the people around me for me. Others were stuff I had to handle on my own. Some of these choices were definitely not easy to make; still, with the other choices, though hurtful, I knew I just had to do.

A lot of huge changes occurred in the past couple of years. I lost my beloved grandfather. I had these major fights with my loved ones. I experienced self-doubt, guilt and regrets. I encountered waves of tumultous emotions.

But, as life would have it, when you lose some, you gain some.

And, yes, I was able to welcome new joys in my life. I found new friendships that I will always treasure. I moved with my family to a new home. I completed projects (like OTP), which I didn't realize I could ever do. I was able to maintain strong bonds with my awesome relatives and my truest friends.

I wished for a happy 2006. Yet, the year gave me a rollercoaster of memorable experiences that have inspired in me changes that has made me more whole.

I am truly looking forward to the promise of another event-filled year. Whether it will be a happy 2007 or not, my only wish is that I remain with my family and friends and I just know I can weather anything that comes my way.

(I finally decided to post it, with the second quarter of 2007 almost ending...)

It's my birthday!

2007-04-05T21:40:00.001+08:00

And, I'm gonna party like it's my birthday!

But, seriously, my family will be celebrating it with a bang for the coming weeks, not this week. My sister is busy with graduation practice (I'm so proud of her!) and my parents have hectic schedules.

I understand them... just as long as I get my time in the sands and sun of Batangas, Puerto Galera, Cebu and Bohol this summer and I'm so okay with it.

For now, I'll be accepting this birthday cupcake. :)

I won't be a sellout.

2007-03-18T00:47:00.001+08:00

What do you do when someone bleeds?

... the Philippines was bleeding doctors.
"Before, we just branded it as a brain drain. But I label it now as a brain hemorrhage," says Dr. Jaime Galvez Tan, a former minister of health.
Source: usatoday.com

First, you evaluate the bleeding. You need to assess which vessel is the source of all the blood and how many liters have been lost.

Is it a huge artery that's been nicked open? Or, several vessels that have been traumatized? Is there a risk for anemia due to excessive blood loss?

Unsurprisingly, money is on the top of the list when it comes to listing the reasons that lure doctors out of the country to work as nurses abroad. Doctors in the Philippines get paid between $400 and $800 a month to practice medicine in less than optimum conditions. Nurses in the U.S. get more than $5,000 a month.
Source: philippinenews.com

Or, is the blood due to a clotting deficiency? Or, could it be that a chronic (like a kidney disease) or was it a blood malignancy that brought about the bleeding?

Last September, the Arroyo government announced that $10.3 billion currently allocated for health care services would be further decreased to pay for country’s debt.
According to a group called Health Alliance for Democracy, health care services in the Philippines are already operating at 3.5% of the GNP budget – below the 5% percent recommended by the WHO...

You should then estimate how many liters have been lost. Would the patient need a transfusion of red blood cells or cryoprecipitate? Is he in the danger of having hypovolemic shock or is he already in shock?

The Philippines is starting to feel the effects... (The decision) have aggravated the doctor-to-population ratio. There is now one doctor for every 26,000 Filipinos. The ideal ratio is one for every 6,000.

After coming up with your primary working impression, prompt management ought to be given. Can conservative measures stop the bleeding? How can you prevent further bleeding episodes?

A fellow doctor, Willie Ong, got to thinking... (He) started the Movement of Idealistic and Nationalistic Doctors, or MIND, campaigning at medical schools to convince doctors to stay even before they became doctors...
Several groups are lobbying the Senate to enact a bill that would require nurses and doctors to practice for a specified number of years in the Philippines before leaving the country to work abroad... For reasons such as the billions of dollars remitted to the national coffers by the same foreign-based professionals, the government is in danger of tough hand wringing in the months ahead...

Or, is there an indication that the bleeding cannot be stopped with medications alone? is there a need for immediate surgical intervention? An immediate exploratory laparotomy, perhaps?

Organizations like the PCP is looking to ameliorate the situation by asking its members to enter into a covenant tellingly entitled “Service Above Gain” that requires its doctors to practice in the Philippines for three years... According to PCP, the Congress is yet to enact the terms of a Magna Carta it created with the health care professionals years ago promising increase in pay and other benefits.
(The PCP declared) “Unless the government musters the political will to ensure the implementation of such beneficial laws, government doctors will continue to be part of the exodus..."

What if the bleeding still won't stop? What if you have tried all measures and attempted to localize the source, but the blood would still continue to hemorrhage?

"... Some 4,000 doctors-turned-nurses have already left the country,” says Dr. Kenneth Ronquillo... in an article in the Business Mirror. “About 4,000 more are studying nursing. Should they pass the board examination for nurses, they are likely to leave the country as well.”
... There has been a downtrend on the applicants for the National Medical Admission Test from some 6,000 in 2000 to only 2,900 in 2005. Dr. Jose Sabili, president of the Philippine Medical Association, attributes this trend to the “low return on investment” in the medical profession.
Source: manilatimes.net

Would you admit that the persistent bleeding was due to your "poor judgment" or "incorrect surgical technique"? Is there a need for an immediate referral to a specialist?

For many thus, the decision to switch is a no-brainer.

Would you leave and sell out? Or, would you stay and deal with the problem again?

Decide now, for your patient's life is in your hands.

The time is ripe for a change.

2007-03-04T20:18:00.001+08:00

Since time immemorial (which is only at most 22 years in my book), Philippine politics has been marred with news of red tape, gruesome killings and simply, the trapo-ness of the candidates themselves.

What makes Philippine politics even sicker and ugly is how people who know what they are doing end up losing because they didn't have a popular soap opera under their belt or a spouse who took home acting awards. Indeed, Joseph Estrada's rise from being a mere punch-wielding slick-haired movie star to being the political leader of an already ailing country has inspired millions of celebrities (e.g. actors, athletes, models) to obtain actual political power by convincing the soap opera-watching, idol-worshipping populace.

I have never really been a fan of politics, much less our current Pinoy politics. But, I have never stopped searching for better options.

I think time is ripe for a change in how this system works. It is time for our country to gain from people who knows what they're doing and actually get something more than just promises and endless variety shows.

Do consider Dr. Martin Bautista and lawyers Zosimo Paredes and Adrian Sison, the senatorial candidates of Ang Kapatiran, when you turn in your ballots come election time. The following are links to their websites:

Ang Kapatiran
Dr. Bautista's blog

No, they didn't induce me to write this. I just strongly believe that the Philippines deserve better.

Nobody knows.

2007-02-16T00:22:00.001+08:00

One of the reasons why Grey's Anatomy is a popular TV series is because the dialogue is straightforward and very real.

It was during the start of first semester last year when one of my classmates was telling me about this new show on ABC, in the United States, about hospital interns and how she had asked her cousin to dutifully tape the episodes after having watched three of them. She practically persuaded me to borrow her copy and watch it.

A few minutes into the first episode, the following line about becoming a medical practitioner struck home for me:

"... I can think of a thousand reasons why I should quit. They make it hard on purpose... there are lives in our hands. There comes a moment when it's more than just a game, and you either take that step forward or turn around and walk away. I could quit but here's the thing, I love the playing field. "

At the start of studying medicine, I was unconvinced that this career was the right path for me. After five years, I still find myself questioning every single day why I put up with the sleepless hours, the emotional pressures, the physical stress, and the mental torture.

But, everytime I do, I have a ready retort: "Do you see yourself doing something else?"

After almost three years in medical school with two more years to tackle before graduation, I simply cannot see myself not finishing what I have started to become --- a doctor.

I am afraid to write...

2007-02-08T15:57:00.001+08:00

... because to write is to bare one's soul for the world to judge.

And, I am not ready to hear the verdict.

The threat is real.

2007-02-05T20:54:00.001+08:00

Last week, I participated in the resuscitation of an 11 year old boy who came in comatose with a history of vomiting blood. He was declared dead after 40 minutes of trying.

Last Sunday, the hospital confirmed the diagnosis was diphtheria, a highly contagious disease. All of us who were in the code needed to undergo a prophylactic regimen of Erythromycin taken every six hours everyday for ten days.

The horrible side effects of this drug include diarrhea, vomiting, severe nausea and abdominal pain. The latter two are the ones keeping me from concentrating in school and making me suffer even as I try to sleep. But, I know the side effects are a small price to pay for the possibility of getting infected with the disease.

This path I am treading has risks that can affect even my very life. Those dilemmas of not having a social life anymore, or of paying thousands for books and supplies, or of not perfecting that extraction procedure now all seem very insignificant.

The threat to my life is real, more real than I ever thought it was... and yes, it scares me a hell lot to have realized that.

2007 shall be another good year.

2007-01-01T19:28:00.001+08:00

I vow to see this through.

Thank you 2006.

I await what 2007 brings.

Thank you for variety.

2006-12-16T15:24:00.001+08:00

I get easily bored.

That's why I never dreamt of pursuing a desk job. I'd rather be on-call 24/7, than routinely clocking in at an airconditioned office from 7 am til 5 pm.

I have only one week to go in our OB-Gyn rotation. One lesson I've had from this experience... In the forty (or so) weeks that a woman is pregnant, a zillion things can happen. That is why if you're an obstetrician, it is imperative to efficiently manage your time or else you won't be able to fit in your personal agenda like family, love and travel.

Huge thank yous to our kind clerks and interns who put up with our typically inane ICC questions, no matter how "toxic" they already are.

Rotating in OB during Christmas season is all about parties, parties, parties. It's amazing how they can still organize events like that even if they hardly have the luxury of time.

Advanced Merry Christmas to everyone!

Join us in OTP.

2006-12-09T08:18:00.001+08:00

Join us in

"Simoy ng Paskong Masaya Handog ng Pagkalma!"
ONLY THE PHINEST 2006

on December 12, 2006 (Tuesday)
from 6 to 10 PM at the
Philippine General Hospital Quadrangle.

Share the joy of the Christmas season
with the charity patients, bantays and
medical staff of PGH!

Donations can be given to
Ivy Vitanzos (e-mail ivymaevitanzos @ yahoo.com)
or Kathy Reyes (e-mail kaaathy @ yahoo.com).

Or just leave a message in this post! :)

This event is brought to you
by Phi Lambda Delta Sorority and Phi Kappa Mu Fraternity
of the University of the Philippines, College of Medicine.

Anticipation kills.

2006-11-25T22:29:00.001+08:00

This Monday morning, my block shall begin our four-week rotation with the Department of Obstetrics & Gynecology of PGH.

This rotation shall be the first of our "Big Four" series (the four major rotations namely, OB-GYN, Pediatrics, Surgery & Internal Medicine). I feel that these four departments shall be our preview to life as a future physician.

Am I ready to face my fears?

Am I physically, emotionally and psychologically prepared?

Be reminded that these thoughts came from a former high school newspaper editor who never even entertained the thought of becoming a doctor six years ago.

Am I really cut out for this kind of life?

We don't see eye to eye.

2006-11-02T01:17:00.001+08:00

I declare that ophthalmology (the study of the eye)
shall not be part of my list of considered specialties.

Ophtha does not require one to work

hours like neurology or to be on-call 24/7 like OB-GYN.
It's relatively "benign" because you can choose
to practice and still find time to be with your family.

Ophtha is a very very lucrative field.
I mean, hello... everyone in the world
has eye problems or would eventually acquire
glaucoma or senile cataracts.

But, I just don't see myself ever understanding
how to search for that elusive optic disc or
to discover the joys of finding retinopathies.

The study doesn't excite me one bit.
I just am not ophtha material.

Life is not a box of chocolates.

2006-10-28T03:35:00.001+08:00

... because if it were, we'd all be on sugar high mode all the time. But, no one is. Life isn't as enjoyable as a box of chocolates would be.

Life is more of a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.
You'll never know what fate would have you chew,
unless you have a flavor guide on hand.
(You can quote me on that. :P)

I admit I've pretty much lived my life as this "sheltered" kid who has a family who supports me almost all the time. No superiority complex or inferiority complex or any other complexes. As far as I know, I was living a very normal life.

But, being normal just won't cut it in this fast-paced, competitive world. You have to be willing to subject yourself to pressure, to fail and get up and fail again, to allow yourself to have cuts and bruises. You have to be insane.

In medical school, there were times when I thought that this certain task was impossible, that I could never finish this and that on time. Now, I have learned to push myself to (what I think are) my limits and somehow found myself surpassing them.

A box of chocolates is nice. But, where's the challenge in that?

*** NOTE: This post was partially inspired by my anticipation for the upcoming movie trailer of "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix", yowza!

I don't have ambitions, only whims.

2006-10-14T12:30:00.001+08:00

(This entry was first drafted last 09/22/06.)

Our rotation for the last two weeks was titled Management. We were basically thrusted into a world whose lingo and technicalities I cannot even begin to understand. It was my first time to hear the terms "benchmarking", "Delphi technique" and "responsible financial management". (Okay, for the last phrase, I was kidding! Hehe.) It was like I was carted off to Mongolia.

And, to think, I would have enrolled in a Management Information Systems course in Ateneo if I hadn't gotten into Intarmed. Whew. Buti na lang pala.

We were required to draw up plans for the year, for the rest of medical school, for our future private practice, and for our life in general. And, that was what made me realize that I have been in medical school for almost 5 years with no specific plans for the future at all.

And, it doesn't help that Dr. Joson always emphasizes this: "When you fail to plan, you plan to fail."

I don't want to fail in anything! And so, I took all the assignments he gave us to heart and did a lot of mind-, body- and soul-searching. I realized that the year entails active participation from me in my orgs, that clerkship and internship years would require more conscious efforts to study and learn, that I am leaning towards OB-GYN and radiology for specializations, and that I know what my end goals are but I don't know how to get there.

The 2 week course indeed helped me waay beyond what was written in their course objectives. :)

I am a marshmallow.

2006-10-02T23:32:00.003+08:00

Emotional attachments, from what shows like "Grey's Anatomy" seem to emphasize, are detrimental to one's professionalism and objectivity. Izzie Stevens (one of my favorite characters) fell in love with a patient and found her heart broken to pieces at the end of Season 2, leading her to make a life-changing decision and keeping everyone (myself, obviously included) impatiently wait for Season 3 to begin.

Fanaticism aside and if American culture is truly law, I am assured of a doomed medical career. Being trained in a public tertiary hospital like PGH is certainly not helping me become less of an emotional "marshmallow".

Growing up to soap operas and primetime news, I was accustomed to hearing "sob stories". But, every hour I spend in PGH has become an opportunity to hear the real sob stories, to listen to the poorest of the country's poor.

I want to help each person I meet, to find any conceivable way to release them from their sufferings. I don't want to see Manong shed another tear of hopelessness. I would like to see my fellow UP graduate go to work despite her psychiatric illness. I wish I could reassure a mother that her 4-year old can grow despite his advanced cancer.

A doctor is regarded in our country as a god. He quotes the right diagnosis and everything is expected to automatically become well. But, it does not always turn out that way. Even the best specialist with zero emotional attachment to his patient cannot wield power and control over a disease that refuses to go away.

A physician is neither a god nor a magician. He is capable of becoming emotionally attached, that he forms hopes & wishes and feels disappointment & despair.

Everyone, yes even doctors, can become a human marshmallow.

Dermatology makes me flinch.

2006-10-01T22:06:00.001+08:00

I came into the first lecture three years ago, gawking at their lustrous hair, well-aligned teeth and impeccably smooth skin. I have yet to meet a dermatologist who didn't look his/her part ---a specialist of external beauty.

I remember my seatmate say, "Pageant ba ito o klase? (Is this a pageant or a class?)" Almost everyone wanted to be a dermatologist then, if only to be assured of having perfect features for the rest of their lives.

But, a few Kodakchrome slides into the lecture, I had already crossed out the specialty from my list of choices. The sight of those oozing pus and exposed fatty layer made me heart race, my pulse weaken and my stomach twist. Then and there, I swore to my seatmate that I would never get into dermatology even if by doing so I'd instantly become a flawless Greek goddess.

I can stand the tumors in oncology, the wiles of psychiatry, the radiation in radiology, and the labor of obstetrics. But, I don't think I can last a day with those dermatologic lesions.

My block shall be rotating in the Department of Dermatology and I am very glad that we'd only be with them a maximum of 5 hours a day (25 hours this week).

Wish me luck. :)

_______________
FYI, I wanted to place a picture of a derma lesion. But, I placed a picture of one of the more famous plants that cause itch (and also my namesake), the poison ivy plant.

I am a sunshine person.

2006-09-30T00:06:00.001+08:00

I was born on a summer day. Perhaps, it's one of the reasons why I would never like thunder, rainstorms and 200-kph winds. I've never seen the city I grew up in be whipped to pieces by nature's power like that.

It was lucky that my cousin had a layover in the country that day, so we (with my family) were able to "evacuate" to her room. I brought only a change of clothes and my friend Nin's book, Neil Gaiman's "Smoke and Mirrors".

I am the world's worst procrastinator.

2006-09-12T18:51:00.001+08:00

I think so.
And, I am truly truly hoping I'd be able to change that. I need to.

I have to.

What did I learn from being an LO?*

2006-09-08T21:17:00.001+08:00

Liaison officer
- acronym: LO
- definition: (UPCM context) official utusan-slash-alalay-slash-aliping saguiguilid of the resident monitors and consultants for a certain module (or subject)

1) The real world is all about hierarchy. If you're the chairman of your department, you get to be served coffee and ensaymada while handling a discussion. If you're the resident doctor struggling through his program, you get to sit behind the chairman, look entirely frazzled and worn, and sneak in a couple of minutes of sleep in between his monologues. :-)
(But, this is entirely understandable. I'm sure that the chairman went through the same sleep-deprived state that his inferiors do, or else he would never have attained his ensaymada-at-work status.)

2) You don't really know a person if you haven't worked with them yet. I came across a personality who couldn't keep their end of the responsibility, who denies that it was their fault, and who go about living his pathetic life while his blockmates continued hating his guts. >:)
(You know what's even more pathetic? He still wonders why I got mad at him in the first place. Zoinks.)

3) Being LO is something I wouldn't readily want to re-experience. I would definitely have second thoughts if asked to become an LO again. But, I would agree in a heartbeat if it will be for my beloved blockmates, Kremlins. Just as long as I wouldn't have to work with the creature depicted in #2. ;-P
(Touche. Hehe.)

* I was the LO for my block's rotation in Neurology and Psychiatry. My stint lasted only for two weeks, but it actually felt more like two months.

Ward 7 is full of surprises.

2006-08-30T23:36:00.001+08:00

My block's rotation is currently with the Department of Psychiatry (a.k.a. Ward 7 of UP-PGH) so, you can just bet what type of stories I am going to tell here. With just three days into the rotation, my block has already experienced some what-the-heck experiences.

B was assessing a patient with schizophrenia. It took him more than an hour to complete the chart. Habang nagte-test siya ng leg movement, nainip yata iyong pasyente at inapakan ba naman ang kanang paa niya with all her body weight (na may kasama pang "ump!"). Siyempre, shocked na shocked si blockmate.
M was interviewing a hypermanic female patient who was diagnosed with schizophreniform disorder. She asked, "Ano po pangalan ng tatay niyo? " in her typical mahinhin, girly tone. The patient smiled and taunted in an all-too familiar typical M tone, "Anoo... poh... pangaalan... ng tataaay... niyooo?" She laughed hysterically. My surprised blockmate just blushed.
Later on, when M tested the same patient with a set of questions, she asked, "Ano po ang 100 minus 7?" The patient screamed, "Secret! Secret!!!"
I was asking a ward patient on what he knew about his psychiatric illness. "Eto a, sigurado ka bang gusto mong malaman?" I said yes, i did. "Eto talaga mahaba-habang istorya. Seryoso ito ha. Mahaba-habang istorya. Seryoso ito ha." He actually repeated those sentences for three more times, all those times I was nodding my head.
He eventually stopped then launched into a story of how he regressed from being heralded as Kuya by everyone to being called immature and bastos, which led to his repeating of 2nd year high school for three times. He related to me what happened in every month of those three years ("January, mahiyain ako. Mga bandang March...").
He also related how he began to like and eventually became addicted to watching bold movies, how he learned to masturbate with his friends and an older gay friend, how he realized "pwede ako sa babae at lalaki, pero hindi ako bakla", and how much siya nakakaisip nang mga kabastusan kapag nakakakita ng babae. (Alarm went off in my head: babae kaya ako!)
It took him more than 15 minutes to relay everything. I tried to cut him short, but he always found a way to talk about his preoccupations, and never really did answer my question. I almost wanted to rap, "Too much info, yo!"
I was writing on my patient's chart, when a male ward patient walked behind me, then stopped and took a look at what I was writing over my shoulder. Knowing most psychotic patients would just walk away when talked to, I said, "Hello! Nasaan ang bantay mo? Balik ka na sa kama mo." He grinned then started moving his head towards my shoulder then slowly moved it back to an upright position. He continued this slow head bobbing motion for about five minutes. He stopped and walked away when he realized I was ignoring him.
I resumed to writing on the chart when I felt a sudden gust of wind on my right ear. I shrieked in surprise and turned around to see the same patient chuckling soundlessly. I laughed at myself then returned to the chart. He then suddenly pulled at my left shoulder seam to put it back in place ("inaayos ang uniporme ko") and walked away. Aba, may pahabol pa!

I am expecting more stories to be added to this list as our block still has two days left in the rotation. The thought excites me in a geeky sort of way. I am kind-of a psychiatry fan.

Now, if you ever get the chance to interact with psyche patients, remember them as people who just happened to have a disease, who needs your empathy and care as much as a cancer or diabetic patient would. They are not to be discriminated against, feared and ostracized.

What does the famous leader Winston Churchill, the heroic nurse Florence Nightingale, the singer Trent Reznor (of Nine Inch Nails), the novelist Sidney Sheldon, the cartoonist Charles Schulz, the comedian Damon Wayans, and the mathematician John Nash have in common? They have all been psychiatric patients.

Don't be a fool by believing that horrible social stigma. They are human beings just like you and me, who were unfortunate to have had a sick brain.

Phi gives me a high.

2006-08-28T21:50:00.001+08:00

I am never a fan of wiggling any part of your body in front of a crowd, much less a crowd that may persecute you for being too damn unskilled. I knew I was "too damn unskilled", but I went and did it anyway.

Why? Because, that is what Phi is all about: to achieve what you never thought you could reach and to become what you always thought you could never be.

Nobody forces you to do things, but you alone. The experience may go into two ways: success or failure. No matter what the outcome is, all that really matters is that you stayed, you fought and you gained the experience.

This is why dancing for my sorority is never a hesitation, always a given and forever a choice I am grateful I made.

It could happen to anyone.

2006-08-22T23:20:00.001+08:00

An intern died last Monday due to typhoidal symptoms. There was not enough time to do lab tests and further work-up on her because the progress of the disease was too fast. Good doctors were there to assess her, but in the end, no one, not even her fellow hospital interns, could do anything.

I don't know her personally, but her story has struck a chord in the heart of everyone in her community.

Some say her persistently high-grade fever was never taken seriously until it was already too late. Others said she wasn't able to get better treatment from the medical staff itself. Some say she should have just allowed herself to be admitted when the fever persisted for more than a week.

Others theorized that she must have gotten the infection during one of her rotations. Some say it was typhoid fever, others speculate that it was much worse than that. However, to blame the hospital or the medical community or even her health-seeking attitude would contribute nothing good to her and to the memory of her.

Sayang was the first word that crossed my mind.

If this happened to her, it could happen to anyone... to you and to me.

Being toxic is not an excuse.

2006-08-22T05:54:00.001+08:00

So, I repeat: Being toxic is not an excuse to have a good time with your bestest best friends... that is, unless you're already failing, hahaha.

Back when we were high school freshmen, I would never have thought about us getting together like this (or in the case of others, not getting together). I'm so happy I became part of the Value Ed group of Fossil/"Mababaitz".

Thank you for "dropping by" Manila, Nina and MonMon, for watching this chick flick with me, buying those fabulously oily garlic sticks and walking with me on puddles all these years. It would be damn hard to replace you guys, if you ever get on with your sicko lives. ;P

(PS. Manins, sorry I couldn't use "enye". Blogger messes it up... waah.)

Radiology seems alright.

2006-08-19T07:03:00.001+08:00

My block's second rotation is with the Department of Radiology. Going into it, we were appalled by the gaping holes in the schedule (e.g. Aug 14, 3 hours of orientation in the morning; Aug 15, 2 hours of lecture; Aug 16...) and were actually asking the coordinator, "Sir, totoo ba 'to?"

Well, we were asking for it. The radio rotation turned out to be not as 'benign' (def. the opposite of 'toxic'; things that doesn't require you to sacrifice food & sleep) as we all thought it would be. We get assigned to plates and explain the radiologic findings. So far, I can honestly say I can identify asbestosis and osteoarthritis. But, I'm not very confident with my skills in identifying hyaline membrane disease and patent ductus arteriosus.

We have three exams next week: an orals, practicals and a written exam. But, I'm not complaining. The radio consultants have all given impressive lectures and the residents were always helpful. As the radiologists have often proudly shared, they're doctors who have "a life". Their duty is almost like an 8 am to 5 pm job. They work during weekdays and rest with their families on weekends.

That fact coupled with my interest in figuring out what all those black, gray and white markings on plates meant has actually made me pool radiology in my list of to-consider specializations. I just hope I'd do well in the three exams, or else it's bye-bye radio for me.

Reality bites.

2006-07-15T16:08:00.001+08:00

Have you ever been to a place that is so filthy, smelly and depressing that you almost want to just run and get out of there?

I did.

Last week, my block was in rotation with the Department of Family Medicine. One of our subgroup rotations included home visits for the hospice section. Homes that they went to were in the areas of Tondo and Pandacan, Manila.

For the first day, the PGH ambulance took us to a TB meningitis patient's shanty by the railway, a cancer patient's wake, and a cachectic 80-year old patient with Alzheimer's, Parkinson's, asthma, community- and hospital-acquired pneumonia. After the first encounter, I thought it was enough wake-up call for one lifetime.

However, during our second trip around Tondo, we were told that we would be visiting a thyroid CA patient, the wake of a wealthy breast CA patient, and the tenement unit of a nasopharyngeal CA patient. The nearest was the NPCA patient, so we went there first.

The buildings there were called tenements put up by the government. As we entered one, I immediately noticed the hazardous way it was built: one corridor, eight doors, eight families. Tsk tsk. The nurse stopped at the second-to- the-last door and knocked. On the opposite side, a TV was blaring loudly and one can hear people chattering about inside. When I turned around to look at the patient we were visiting, I was taken aback as to how dingy and dim everything was.

There were three people inside the 3 meters by 5 meters room. There was no paint on the walls, nor flooring under their feet. An electric stove was cooking something. Three cats were freely jumping up and down the sink. Laundry littered the floors. The siblings didn't switch on the light because "mainit e".

The eldest, a tricycle driver, walked to us after rubbing his hands with a towel. His sister who seemed to be in her twenties was actively seizing on the rags placed on the cold floor. The NPCA patient, who was my age, stared blankly in space with his grayed, blind eyes and fastidiously continued spooning the brown soup in a chipped bowl. At first, I couldn't see his tumor, but when he turned to the left to reach for his glass of water, I realized that the mass occupied a third of his face.

The doctors first addressed the issue of the epileptic sister. "Sabi ko nga sa kanya, hingi siya ng gamot sa epilepsy niya e. Tigas ng ulo!" The eldest scolded the girl as she began another round of seizures. When the doctor gave a prescription for the cheapest anti-convulsant, he complained, "Wala na kaming pera e." Phenobarbital was sold only for P 2.50. For me, it was an only.

The NPCA patient may have lost his sight, but it seemed that he had the capacity to hear a bit. The doctor asked him if his ears hurt. He nodded vigorously. He was given enough morphine tablets to last him for two days. Morphine was not a cure, just a pain-killer. The family couldn't afford paying for the treatment of his cancer.

We left the place, without talking to each other. For my whole life, my concerns were about how I badly "need" those red shoes I've been eyeing, how my parents seem too protective of me, and how much I hate having to wake up at 5 a.m. to get to school. I was awed, shocked and depressed by the whole scene. I felt even sadder when I realized how I take for granted the things that that family didn't even have.

One would think I'd be immune to their sad story. True, I have encountered lots of versions from PGH patients (e.g. no money for weekly dialysis). However, theirs was an "in-house" experience, and I could never forget how I could smell and see death in their home.

Reality is even sadder than what is depicted in soap operas, in literature, in fiction.
I don't think most of us really knew that.
I didn't, until that day.

(photo: from bulatlat.com)

I love and hate my orgs.

2006-06-21T19:23:00.001+08:00

My attitude towards my orgs (which are presently four) is pretty much a love/hate relationship.

There are times I so love being in this and that org, and doing this and that project. But, there have been a lot of times wherein I wondered about why the hell did I volunteer to be part of this org... why am I spending time on extracurricular activities when I already have less than ample time to use on academics?

I often imagined myself as a barbarian (UPCM definition: a student who isn't a member of any organization). I would most certainly be free on weekends to loiter about town. I would probably be more active in class committees, even volunteering to be an Liaison Officer for some module. I would also be capable of staying awake during lectures because I would most certainly have had enough sleep the night before.

Then, I would imagine myself being a barbarian for the entire five years of medical school. Right then and there, I would revert to loving my four orgs. My life as a medical student will never ever become boring because I am part of these orgs.

I dance at TRP even if I have two left feet. I gained friends who I would never have the opportunity to know if I was a barb. I learned skills on "living" that not even medical school can teach me.

Come to think of it... I don't really love/hate my orgs. I sometimes have "LQ's" with them, but I shall be eternally grateful to them for helping me reach my full potential.

Hello evidence-based medicine!

2006-06-17T14:15:00.001+08:00

The flavor of the week was Research Methods 3: An Introduction to Evidence-Based Medicine.

Dr. Noel Espallardo was the lecturer and coordinator for the whole duration of the course. Although there was slight room for improvement, Dr. Espallardo did a great job handling all 159 of us.

His strategy was a one-hour lecture then a two-hour workshop/small group discussion. We got divided into 16 blocks.

Although there were no preceptors, I'm proud to say my classmates were mature and responsible enough to thoroughly involve themselves in the SGDs. After all, we absolutely needed this skill to help people in the future!

We had an exam yesterday and I could safely say it was a fair set of questions.

The next module is Systemic Diseases, a four-week long course with weekly exams. Can't wait. *shudders*

PGH, here I come?

2006-06-08T19:38:00.001+08:00

Around six doctors presented to us the courses they were handling. Many teaching methods were novel and experimental... as the OSI curriculum has always been for us, novel and experimental.

Our class is the pioneering batch for this new UPCM curriculum. This meant we have to suffer the numerous shortcomings of a stubborn faculty and an untested approach to learning.

Whether this curriculum is a success or a failure, the answer shall only be given on the day the results of our class' board exams arrive.

As Dr. Sio enumerated her course's objectives, my seatmate and dear friend Margie nudged me on the elbow and said, "Magiging duktor na talaga tayo, ano?" Images of the PGH's packed wards filled my mind and all I felt was dread.

The responsibility is very overwhelming. In less than a year, we would be handling cases and would literally have lives that depend on our hands.

The ICC orientation was supposed to last for a whole day, but Dr. Lapeña, who was supposed to give his presentation after lunch, gave his piece in the morning. So, we had the rest of the day free.

My roommate was going home to Las Piñas. My other friends either had org meetings or family business to attend to. Margie and I thought of watching "The Lake House" (which, we eventually found out wasn't being shown yet) or, maybe, window shop.

After checking out trinkets in the Robinsons Place's Pedro Gil wing, I found myself stating the obvious, "Matagal uli bago tayo magkaroon nang ganitong klaseng free time." She just sighed.

I want my summer vacation back!

A zombie is what I am.

2006-06-07T00:35:00.002+08:00

A text message last March 2 from my friend, Pepel, read: "You might want to buy today's Inquirer and read Youngblood." It was an essay by Dr. Lorraine Rojas, a UST graduate, who was then a medical clerk, the bottom of the hospital food chain.

It is best if you read the whole article, as posted by her fellow UST alumni, Dr. Romano. I shall only be commenting on excerpts here. Here is a link.

This year, I shall be an ICC (which stands for Integrated Clinical Clerkship) or what is known as Clerk I to others. I am about to get my first taste of hospital life. Although I am studying in a different medical school (UP-PGH), the situations that they have are still similar to ours.

I wonder what all those people would think when they realize what exactly this (almost) doctor does every day -- or what all their doctors once did every day when they were clerks. We run around, doing everything for everyone else. We barely sleep... We walk around like zombies in the middle of the night...

When I went to my pediatrician for consult, I would often hear my mom say, "Pakapa-kapa lang ng leeg, 500 pesos na!" Thus, I associated being a doctor with easy and big money. Now that I am studying to be one, I know that it can never be easy. And, you can only acquire good money if you prove to be worthy of it after years of learning.

I had one patient in the outpatient department, a college student. He watched as the consultant berated me... As I turned to him with my last remaining shreds of self-respect, he whispered in awe, "Para pala kayong nag-dedefend ng thesis araw-araw." ["It's like we are defending a thesis every day."]
He got it. Every patient is a learning experience and every conversation is an exam.

With everything that's been taught to us in the basic medical sciences, there were two practical things that were successfully ingrained in our minds. Firstly, a medical student should give due respect to his superiors. These consultants have already reached what a medical student is still planning on achieving. Though it may seem that these doctors existed just to make your life living hell, just repeat these words, "It's a vicious cycle." Soon, it would be you who would be calling the shots and squeezing the potential out of your medical student.

Whenever my group finishes up an interview and physical examination for a ward work preceptorial, we always make sure to thank the patient and his family for having patience with us and for lending us their time. Second thing to remember, you will never learn anything without your patients.

There's also that little fact that while they all have careers, salaries and live independent lives, you're still relying on your parents for almost everything -- room, board, tuition and (sigh) allowance.

I'm on the INTARMED program. This means I became part of UP College of Medicine right after I graduated high school. I just finished my four years with three more to go. While all my other UPCAT batchmates were throwing graduation parties and showing off their creative shots, I was racking my brains for an answer to the ninety-seventh question on our last exam for neurology.

I know I could have just refused the offer for a 7-year medicine track and took a normal course in UP Diliman, like BA Journalism (my first choice).

I have actually lost count of how many times I considered shifting. However, the thought of leaving this path seemed too selfish and too easy to the point that I realized shifting would be just, plain wrong. Although i've yet to experience that "i'll gladly be a complete idiot" feeling that Dr. Rojas had, I honestly cannot see myself in another profession.

Ungodly hours, superiors from hell, zero social life, not to mention the multi-resistant illnesses one can acquire if you are that unlucky --- the road to becoming a doctor is indeed difficult. But when a patient smiles his thank you or when my mom asks me to "treat" her migraines or when a fellow student shares his latest blooper with a terror consultant, I will know that they are my reasons for staying in the game, and everything else would somehow be easier to bear.

kittycrinkles = medicine blog

2006-06-05T20:18:00.001+08:00

for the umpteenth time, i've decided not to ignore this blog.

i have my livejournal account to use for raving, ranting and bumming.

i have my multiply account for sharing my icky face to the even ickier world.

i will have this blogspot account to drown you in the life i have chosen to immerse myself into... the life of a procrastinatin', crammin', constantly yawnin' medical student.

now, i just have to find a good blog skin for this transformation. hihi. ^_^

a product of net surfing

2006-05-18T18:36:00.001+08:00

sparked by a post about the youngest mother ever (Lina Medina at age 5) by someone from my lj account, i clicked on links that interested me, wasted hours on useless albeit entertaining websites and eventually learned three very important things [at least for me, hehe]:

1. Conan rocks!!!

i heart Conan O' Brien even more. i've always regarded him as a skilled host who could deliver crazy punchlines and coax his audience to laugh even when his monologue bombed. i swear i'd be very happy if i get to be a member of his audience even just for one time.

the most current and possibly a long-running joke on his show was about him having a look-alike in Finland's female president Tarja Halonen. this even escalated into him campaigning for Halonen's re-election just because he looks like her. i honestly think she must have won the presidency again because of Conan (who is popular in Finland). here's a pic the show's often flashed on the screen.

and oh, have you guys read the speech he gave for Harvard Class 2000? if not, here's a link. and i never knew he graduated Magna Cum Laude before. he is indeed one very cool dude. ^_^

2. Reality is stranger than fiction.

i have a very close relationship with my sister Yvonnie, but we were never as weird as the Gibbons twins.

June and Jennifer Gibbons were identical twins who studied in a school where they were the only ones with dark skin. they suffered from bullying and eventually made a pact not to speak with anyone even their own family. it came to the point where they made a special language and claimed they could read the other's thoughts. they loved to write on their journals more than speak.

they were committed to a hospital for more than a decade. on the day of their release, Jennifer died of an unexplained and sudden heart condition. June saw it as her sister's way of giving her "sweet release" from their creepily tight bond.

here's a link to an interview with the surviving twin.

3. My musings may be stranger than yours, hehe.

one could really get addicted to surfing the web. i'm not the webchat-type of person. i'm not even big on downloading. i even have to employ other people to help me get mp3s or figure out to DL torrents just so i could watch season two of Grey's Anatomy.

i'm a Discovery Channel, Animal Planet freakazoid whose jaw drops when a team of scientists finally unlocks the mystery behind the death of a mummy they found on some Caribbean island. ironically, feeding on these useless factoids about the world help me escape my own reality.

it's either that, or i'm a student who just declared her love for being a bum, or i could be both, hehe.

videos

2006-05-17T01:44:00.001+08:00

these videos contain pictures of people who i shall always cherish.

enjoy!

medical life

friends

writing hiatus

2006-04-24T02:11:00.002+08:00

i never find the task of writing difficult. while my classmates agonized over due essays, i find myself becoming ecstatic when i realize that my essay is just the way i wanted it to be --- comprehensive yet concise.

when i read a well-written novel (like William Golding's "Lord of the Flies"), the first sentence that comes to my mind is "i wish i wrote this!" when i watch a film with a jaw-dropping twists, i mutter under my breath, "i could have thought of that."

i will never get tired of writing.

but, apparently, for the last few months, i seem to have had enough of writing. well, that is not true.

again, i will never get tired of writing. the only way i could stop writing is when there is nothing to write about. in truth, the past few months have been nothing but the "utterly boring months of a medical student." would you really want to hear of how i failed this and this test, and watched that and that film?

i'm sure you won't.

so, am i excused from my absence?

=)

crayons and pad papers

2006-01-30T02:31:00.001+08:00

to start off the year, this post contains something i've written for my 4th year HS English class almost five years ago. that means, i was just 16 then.

good memories are always the best place to start when you want to write.

CRAYONS AND PAD PAPERS

I remember Maggi perfectly.

Her long black hair loops into big bouncy curls below her ears and her playful dimples always appear beside her lips whenever she laughs. I got to know her in second grade through a carpool service. We instantly clicked. We became friends.

Besides having Mae as our second given names, Maggi and I were strongly and amazingly alike. She loved drawing brightly colored clouds and trees, and I adored sketching flowers and butterflies. We became known as the "artistic pair" because of this shared passion for the visual arts. Our friendship then revolved around small colorful notes and carefully created sketches of one another in crayons and pad papers.

In third grade, our friendship blossomed into a rare, inseparable relationship. However, that year turned out to be an incredible year of achievements and of self-evaluation. When the nuns decided to divide the "artistic pair" because we were being "too loud", I sulked. I did not want a different seatmate. Nobody had the right to sit on the chair next to me but Maggi.

To my utter horror, Maggi made new friends in her new seating row. She seemed happy with the new seating arrangements. I was so furious that I returned her little butterfly messages unopened, unread. I refused to sit next to her in the bus. I considered her new friends and seatmates as enemies. I absolutely despised them. Nevertheless, Maggi introduced her new friends to me, as if I was not protesting about the whole situation. I finally had to confront her. "What is wrong with having new friends?" She said, laughing.

I was speechless. What was indeed wrong? I might have been scared that I had lost her to them. However, her seatmates were not depriving me of Maggi's time. We still ate lunch in the bus port together. We also did math in the library together. I had been afraid, afraid of change. Maggi told me not to be. She assured me that we were best friends and nothing can ever change that.

Fourth grade found us placed in different rooms. I was in Room 1 while she was in Room 2. I feared that the "artistic pair" would be gone for good. On that very first day in fourth grade, Maggi happily handed me a rectangular paper cut-out. On it was a little sketch of us holding hands in picturesque green meadow filled with orange sunflowers and the red sun smiling down on our happy, pink faces. "Maggi and Ivy" was inscribed in blue ink underneath the drawings. I smiled to blink back the tears. The change may indeed affect our friendship, but I chose to push that fear at the back of my mind.

We had different schedules, so we did not meet and talk as much as before. We only exchanged hi's and hello's in the corridors during PE classes and, with the then non-popularity of telephones, our decent conversations only transpired inside the school bus where we sat next to each other.

Christmas came. She gave me chocolate chip cookies that her mom baked. I gave her a card and a figurine of a small angel. I remember her tears fall when she apologized for not making a card for me like she usually does with the promise-filled words of "Friends Forever".

In February, we were requested to design a bulletin board in our grade level's corridor. The "artistic pair" went to work at once. Maggi then helped with a math assignment. She was very brilliant with math. It was during that time when she told me that her family was moving to Cavite by March. Her father had landed a higher paying job there and he thought it would be better if his family lived closer to the source of income. I was stunned. I never thought we would be more separated than we already were.

On the last day of fourth grade, I fought back the tears that dared to stream out of my eyes. I did not want her to think that I scared. I was terrified, terrified of facing the following year with no Maggi, no best friend. I wanted her to see in me a best friend was brave enough to see her leave without a single tear falling down my cheeks. The last thing she needed was a dearly loved person to contradict an important turning point in her life.

At first, we always talked on the phone. She would tell me about her new school, new classmates and new friends. I would tell her about my new friends. By and by, her calls lessened. I was devastated. My sixth grade heart sought for a friend who could cheer it with short, crafty poems and vividly drawn landscapes.

Until one day, I received a delayed birthday card. It was from Maggi. She had written a short poem. Underneath that, in discreetly made strokes, she wrote, "Just because everything is different does not mean everything has changed." Relief washed over my heart. These words were enough to sum up my unique relationship with Maggi. I smiled and closed the card, feeling exhilarated with the promise of a perpetual friendship.

As the years went by, we lost communication entirely. Things are not the same as they were five years ago. The beautiful events that happened can never be reconstructed. Still, not once had my faith wavered that she still considers me as a friend -- a happy memory in her grade school years.

Not once had my heart doubted that she was still my best friend. For despite that our worlds then spun around crayons and pad papers, Maggi had taught me to look positively at everything and use it to propel myself toward inner maturity and self-betterment.

this essay was also included in the book "Spark of Hope: The Makati Science Vision Anthology of Student Essays" which was edited by English teacher Mr. Alixander Escote. this book was published by the school last 2005.

note that the version i posted in this blog is something i've only edited now, after several years that it's been written.

life as i know it

2005-12-11T21:58:00.001+08:00

Buhay Medisina

I
Girlfriend
It's seven o'clock na naman
At ako'y naghihintay sa'yo
Inulan na ako ng thirty minutes,
Wala ka pa rin dito
Palibhasa kasi, ika'y nagta-trans pa,
O may TRP practice pa
At heto na nga't nagde-date na tayo
Sabay nagme-memorize ng libro.

Chorus I
Girl
Hindi ko na kaya
Student
(Kaya mo 'yan hon)
Both
Buhay medisina
Girl
Hindi ko na kaya
Student
(Konting tiis hon)
Girl
Nakakaloka't nakababaliw na
Ngunit anumang reklamo
Matitiis ko bang hangad ng puso mo?
At gaya ng dati
Ganoon naman lagi
Kasama mo pa rin ako

II
Father
Umuwi ka naman, anak
Miss na miss ka na ng nanay mo.
Mag-aanim na buwan kang di nakita,
Tumawag ka naman dito.
Palibhasa kasi wala ka nang oras
Sa dami ng pasyente mo.
At heto kaming nagtatrabaho
Mapag-ipunan lamang ang tuition mo.

Chorus II
Father
Hindi ko na kaya
Student
(Kaya mo 'yan Pa)
Both
Buhay medisina
Father
Hindi ko na kaya
Student
(Konting tiis Pa)
Father
Nakakapagod, nakababaliw na
Ngunit anumang reklamo
Matitiis ko bang hangad ng puso mo?
At gaya ng dati
Ganoon naman lagi
Kasama mo pa rin ako

Bridge
Students
Heto na naman ako
Nagmamadali, natotorete
Wala na ngang time mag-lunch
Sa dami ng pasyente
Minsan ako'y napapaisip, napapahinto
Bakit nga ba medisina ang pinili ko?
Parang neverending na pagod at serbisyo
Ngunit tuloy pa rin, basta't nariyan kayo

Chorus III
Pagkat kinakaya
(Dahil sa 'yo, hon)
Buhay medisina
Hirap man o ginhawa
(Para sa 'yo Pa)
Basta't nariyan kayo ako'y ayos na
Kahit anumang reklamo
Di na magbabago, hangad ng puso ko
At gaya ng dati
Ganoon naman lagi
Basta't kasama ko kayo

Coda
Basta't kasama ko kayo
Magdodoktor pa rin ako
Magdodoktor para sa'yo
Basta't kasama ko kayo...

**********

this song pretty much sums up the life of a medical student.

and because of that, class 2009 took home the gold for the 32nd "Tao Rin Pala" Chorale Competition.

and you know what the best part of the victory was, many people in the audience were deeply moved by the song and called it "beautiful". that would have been a great trophy in itself.

i love class 2009. we truly rock.

quitting

2005-10-28T19:51:00.001+08:00

this word shall always have a negative connotation with any person who had been trying their darndest to reach a certain goal, to fulfill a given task, to finish a started mission.

i have always been wary of the word "quit". i have always tried my best not to say it, but i always end up doing so.

when i was in fourth grade, i was accepted into the staff of our grade school newspaper. i had always been a fan of writing.

hence, i was ecstatic to be part of such an official literary organization. but then, my first task as a young journalist was something i wasn't ready for.

when i realized i had to interview someone with authority [= a person i was scared of], i freaked and backed out without having second thoughts.

our paper adviser was surprised when i told her i was quitting the school paper org. quitting that org was something i totally regretted.

during our grade school graduation, i envied all of my batchmates who got to go up the stage to get Excellence in Journalism awards.

if i didn't quit the org, if i didn't turn tail with that assignment... i had zillions of if's. having those if's made me feel terrible.

in high school, quitting was at the back of my mind [if present at all]. i joined a lot of orgs and did my best to contribute to the activities.

i am very proud to say that i was secretary of our student council and editor-in-chief of our high school newspaper.

quitting is definitely a no-no. that gnawing feeling of a thousand what-if's is something i never want to feel again. i now fear regret above everything else.

just recently, i came close to quitting, came close to regretting.

my emotions almost got the worst of me. my mind was a blur. i only thought about myself, that i wanted an easy way out.

all i could think about was i wanted to be home and to be comfortable and be pampered.

i was regressing. i was quitting.

nevertheless, my friends stood by me. they encouraged me to go on. they told me i could get through this. they urged me not to quit.

and so, i didn't and i shall thank them eternally for that.

one very valuable thing i learned from all these is this:
you may want to quit because you suffer, but don't you think you would suffer more if you quit?

life is never, ever a bed of roses. if it was, how would we know happiness?

now now, before i sink even deeper into the quicksand of cliches, let me just share with you a few stanzas of that brilliant poem of perseverance that helped me through it all.

to whoever person [Edgar A. Guest daw?] made this kick-ass poem, i worship you.

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
when the road you're trudging seems all uphill,
when the funds are low and the debts are high,
and you want to smile but you have to sigh,
when care is pressing you down a bit - rest if you must, but don't you quit.
...
Success is failure turned inside out - the silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
and when you never can tell how close you are,
it may be near when it seems afar;
so stick to the fight when you're hardest hit - it's when things seem worst, you must not quit.

Passion

2005-09-19T10:21:00.001+08:00

. . . is the one word that can fully describe his life.

in spite of losing his mother at the age of 4, his caring, compassionate nature still developed. when his father remarried, he and his manang [older sister] welcomed the addition of ten more brothers and sisters, and the love from a woman who became more than just their stepmother.

the difficult times made him stop going to school. he only reached grade 4. still through the sheer resiliency of his spirit, he learned to read and to write English with perfect grammar and diction.

he was a voracious reader. tough times however made him find other means of satisfying his appetite for knowledge. fish back then was only wrapped in old newspapers. he would carefully let those pages dry and read them word per word after.

he lived an ordinary life. although he never set foot in college, his bosses were all praises for his diligence and trustworthiness. expectedly, he bested even his colleagues with college degrees.

he was also quite the charmer. eventually, his heart found its mate in a girl who lived two towns away. when they got married, he chose to move to the girl's hometown, physically separating himself from his big family of 11 siblings. he was actually the only one among his siblings who left their town.

in his new hometown, he was popular for his gregariousness and wisdom. he was made barangay captain for many years. his generosity towards his neighbors was often the root of arguments with his wife. even if he did not have much, he was willing to give it to someone who needed it more than he did.

domestic life was not always peaceful. he vented out stress by drinking alcohol [i.e. "tuba"] and smoking tobacco. he would almost always come home drunk and cursing. this would always elicit shouting matches in the household, but he never hit his wife.

they had 8 children; two of those died before they reached 4. the tough times forced them to choose to stop sending their males to school. the reason: boys could find jobs anywhere.

they made sure that the girls [including my mother] would obtain their college degrees. the reason: girls can only get jobs if they finished college. thus, the boys learned to help their mother around their house [e.g. cooking, washing clothes] while the girls performed well in school.

now, i owe the advantages i have in my life to their unconventional thinking.

yes, the man who lived a life of compassion is none other than my lolo, Felix Polestico Cleopas Sr.

my favorite anecdote about my lolo's life would have to be that Good Friday when he literally brought home a lost, slightly retarded boy from the street as if he were just a kitten from the gutter. the boy was only 10; he was the same age as my mother.

lola demanded that lolo bring him back to where he was found, saying that they already had more kids to bring up than their finances could allow. lolo refused to bring him back. eventually lola's kind heart gave in and named him "Roberto".

the boy Roberto stayed with them for five years. my mother helped him dress nicely and was on the same grade as him. however, Roberto suddenly disappeared again. he was last seen boarding a ferry boat to Mindanao. his flimsy state of mind must have provoked him to leave, but my lolo’s family never forgot him.

i belonged to lolo's first batch of grandchildren. hence, he was still capable of doing things for us when we were very little. whenever we visited him in Bohol, he would nail together pieces of plywood and sew nipa leaves to make a sturdy, built-for-our-size playhouse. he also made us study tables, footstools and small beds. he made us feel loved by working very hard on beautiful trinkets we never asked him to make.

i consider him my inspiration, my role model. he has accomplished many things that others like him who were uneducated and impoverished could not.

he left behind acres of farming land and a few areas of fishery. he left behind a legacy of hard work, determination and passion for his children and his grand children to emulate.

my lolo may have succumbed to illness yesterday at 10 AM, but he was still most triumphant in the great battle that was his life.

we love you, 'lo, and we will really, really miss you.

**********

DISCLAIMER:
this would have to be the longest entry i ever made. well, he deserves to be given this honor.

suck it up.

2005-09-11T12:18:00.001+08:00

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

"Resume" by Dorothy Parker,
from The Folio Book of Humorous Verse 2002

the bottomline: for every reason that makes you wanna quit, there is also a reason for you not to.

would you want to die a meaningless death? or would you rather just live your life until you die?

i've always believed that to be able to live well, you must have a reason, you have to be armed with a goal to face your daily battles.

but as years passed, i found myself facing my daily battles armed with nothing but pure stubbornness.

to quit, to die pointlessly, to run away has always been a tempting prospect.

countlessly, i have considered filing an LOA, dropping everything i am currently involved in and just bask in the nothingness of nothing.

but then, i sit up, take a deep breath and ask, "What next?"

living is indeed a very tiring task that we surmount every single millisecond of the day.

however, life itself has so much to offer us. everyday, we are presented with new smells to experience, new sentiments to relish, and new puzzles to solve.

i am certain that i shall fall many times and wish i never accepted such a challenge.

when quitting comes to mind, i've only got three words for it: suck it up.

DETOXIFICATION

2005-08-12T00:45:00.001+08:00

as long as the instructions are clear to me and the objectives are satisfactory, i finish any task given to me.

i have never ever thought i would one day require a definite degree of motivation to get things done.

the search for an inspiration.

this is my current fixation. ever since i started my life as a medical student, i find myself always on the verge of burn out.

quitting has always introduced itself into my consciousness. but, just thinking about bailing out when i have already put great effort into what i'm doing is simply unappealing.

many people fear regret. and, i am one of them.

a month ago, two of the best community doctors, doc jimmy galvez-tan and doc portia marcelo, were chitchatting with me and my group about "rejuvenation" sessions [more commonly known as "detox" in UPCM slang].

as obvious experts in the field of being on the verge of being burned out, they gave us these options, these possible sources of motivation:

watch an art thing.
it is proven, man has two mental components. one feeds on logic and science and math. the other supplies neurons for art, music and speech.
i have always been a fan of the latter. hence, i am currently seeking to fulfill my craving for these "art things".

be passionate about service.
with UPCM's motto of commitment to the underserved and with the advice coming from seasoned doctors in community medicine, this was an expected advice.
still, this is very sound advice, a principle which i wish to eventually live by in the hell [that is medicine] to come.

when all else fails, bawl.
this last one was not said by those two doctors. this one is part of my mantra. honestly, complaining aloud [really really loud, as in] does make me feel better.

currently, i'm finding my sources of inspiration from television.

yes, you read that one right the first time.

i do watch television.

the source of inspiration for this post was actually from my watching of the pilot episode of "scrubs" a few minutes ago.

why do i watch these shows?

perhaps, what i just want is to detoxify myself with the knowledge that many others like me are undergoing this "challenge"...

and, i am not just the only one constantly thinking about quitting. tee-hee.

**********

EARTH TO YOU!

this blog was not meant to be just all about my thoughts on medicine. however, as medicine is my life, do not expect that this shall be the last you'll ever hear about it.

expect an occasional post about mundane things but, baby, i've got four more years to burn before i can even be qualified to take the boards. harhar.

my heart sounds.

2005-07-22T23:25:00.001+08:00

lub dub. lub dub. lub dub. lub dub. lub dub.

during the "eto kami ngayon" career talk handled by the university for us who were freshmen then, one of the five specialists was a cardiosurgeon.

i remember he said he studied for 16 years just to get to his present field. he even went to harvard medical school. however, i couldn't remember his name.

but what i can remember was what he said, "being a cardiosurgeon is the most lucrative, the most financially rewarding specialty you can get into."

all of his colleagues nodded their heads in agreement.

ka-ching! a light bulb switched on in my head.

lub dub. lub dub. lub dub. lub dub.

then, anatomy dissections came.

i thought i couldn't stand the sight of a dead person lying on top of our group's table.

i was wrong.

what i couldn't stand was the meticulous procedure of removing the skin, pinching off the fascia and scurrying in the heaps of fat, searching for the muscles, the nerves or the blood vessels our doctors required us to find.

i couldn't stand the pressure of dissection.

surgery is now crossed off my list of possible ventures.

lub dub. lub dub. lub dub.

my mom is hypertensive, and so was my grandmother, and my mom's grandmother, and so on.

my mom even lost our baby sister to eclampsia.

just imagine how excited she is now, thinking that the first doctor[-to-be] in her family, her eldest daughter, would specialize in cardiology.

lub dub. lub dub.

as i sat listening to dr. domingo's lecture on the mechanisms of arrhythmiogenesis, i found myself hesitantly crossing off cardiology from my list.

the only survivors of my list are obstetrics & gynecology, psychiatry, dermatology [although i shudder about ulcerations], endocrinology, and pediatrics.

lub dub.

if i do not choose which field to be involved with, shall i eventually die of a cardiac arrest?

or, would risking myself in an endeavor of which i am not certain i want to be part of be a cause for a cardiac dysfunction?

...

what could my heart have possibly been thinking?

**********

DISCLAIMER
i promised that this entry would be about "harry potter and the half-blood prince"... HOWEVER i promised a dear friend to not post anything that shall spoil her from her scheduled july 29 reading. dahil dear ka sa akin, nanertz, i did just that.

ivy the barbarian

2005-07-17T17:16:00.001+08:00

no, this is not about that series.

[if you know what i'm talking about, hats off to you, fellow isko.]

for the non-peyups people, a short definition of the term shall do.

BARB or BARBARIAN = a person who does not belong to any greek-lettered organization [read: sororities or fraternities]

in all honesty, i despised people who are in soros and frats. i considered them pathetic individuals who had no friends to call their own and who desperately craved acceptance into the human race.

i never wished to be one of them.

but, now i do.

stop. do not dare judge me.

do not dare judge me just like the way i judged them.

when i was starting in college, i believed in the frat boy/soro girl stereotypes.

i staunchly upheld the idea that frat boys were war freaks and soro girls were flirts all throughout my first two years in UP.

however, due to my propensity to be a freeloader, i consented to attend all the soro-hosted welcome meriendas and dinners.

their promises of sisterhood, a more lucrative career and an eternal source of sample exams however didn't stir me.

i couldn't care less about sisterhood. i've already got great girl friends.

a good career opportunity is tempting, but i know i can manage to get one on my own if i choose to work hard for it.

samplexes? well, i'm not really that grade-conscious. harhar.

but, guess what? i still became a convert.

the reason why? i was enticed by the threat of having projects to do, posters to make and performances to practice.

yes, yes, i feel so pathetic admitting it but i want to have other things to attend to than study-eat-sleep.

three words: MED BORES ME.

not the course itself. [although, i admit i always fall asleep when the "dream team" profs lecture.]

i am bored with how my life has become because of studying medicine.

i need to nurture my creative side. i want to get rid of pathophysiologies once in a while.

sadly, i do not have the heart in me to join something my parents don't approve of. i've already tried the "please-mommy", the "ah basta" and the "nakakaasar naman kayo e" approaches.

nothing worked.

i am so close to giving up on them ever freely permitting me.

oh dear, what else should i do?

i've already entertained the thought of joining the initiation week during sem break but, all my parents would know was that i was studying for finals.

argh. help me.

**********

NEWSFLASH: "harry potter and the half-blood prince" is now in my hands. do not be shocked if my next entry would be all about that. capeesh?

**********

disclaimer.

2005-07-13T15:00:00.002+08:00

why haven't i updated my blog in the recent week?

this shall answer that burning question.

for july, here are my current events:

1 - lecture on pharmacokinetics and drugs for the central nervous system (CNS)

2 & 3 - God bless weekends!

4 - exam on pharmacokinetics and CNS & ANS, then lectures again

5 - assignments due, lectures until 6 pm

6 - exam on the more laborious aspects of pharmacokinetics then toxicology lecture

7 - lectures on developmental pharma, NSAIDS and CVS drugs

8 - exam on pharmacogenetics, toxicology, dev't pharma, drug dev't CVS drugs, and autacoids, then undying lectures

9 & 10 - supposed to go to neil gaiman's book signing but pharma assignments held me up at home [only to have the deadline pushed to wednesday, argg.]

11 - start of a new hell called immunology

12 - first time i went to a clinico-pathological conference (CPC) where not one student guessed the right diagnosis.
lesser beings, according to the cutie doctor in green, it was a madura foot. oh, and we had lectures again.

13 - i learned a lot about atopic dermatitis, allergic food reactions and anaphylaxis. i'm cutting class right now. harhar.

to end this absurd entry, i am saying a big THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for wondering why i haven't updated.

i am so happy that you guys wanna know about my life as much as i wanna be updated with yours.

i won't be posting again for the next couple of days. read: written exam on immunology lectures on friday, july 15.

well, gotta cram.

my father's gay

2005-07-01T19:16:00.001+08:00

... at least, that's what we tease him day and night.

one of my friends even told me that his mom thought my father is gay when she met him. i don't blame her.

well, he does dye his [thinning] hair in different shades of brown every month. he also loves his fortnightly pedi/manicure.

his polos, shirts, pants, and socks occupy more closet space than all the clothes of his women [that's us!] combined. he dotes on his cars so much that we often feel envious when he takes time out to have them professionally car washed.

he is proud to be a gym addict. in fact, our one-on-one conversations [as he drives me to my unit] involves his eternal mission to make me super conscious about being trim.

you think i'm bluffing? well, you've never met my dad.

papa has so many eccentricities that i just wanna list them all down here. hence, i'm gonna try to do so.

papa's immortal line when von was going through a break-up, "anak, mahal mo pa ba siya?" whose father ever said that?

a most wacko advice any daughter could ever receive was "subukan mong mag-marijuana isang beses. mas maganda makasubok kahit minsan kaysa hindi kahit kailan." thinking about it now, i believe this is actually sound advice. heehee.

while scouring magazine racks, i picked up an fhm mag and asked if he wanted me to buy it for him. his punchline: "'wag, anak, bastos ang laman niyan e." seriously, he was not kidding.

there is also just something about having his daughters with him in the car that works him up, enough to formulate a conspiracy theory about the philippine government. he believes pgma bribed raul roco and ping lacson to bow out of the elections. harhar.

no matter how much he tries to persuade me about exercise and diets, i shall never believe him unless... he quits smoking.

yes, he says he's a health buff, but he's only given up on alcohol. he just can't stay away from nicotine. [and i am just so deeply disappointed in myself for not being able to convince him to quit.]

still, i am terribly, eternally and incredibly grateful to the cosmos that Rodolfo C. Vitanzos is my one and only father.

actually, this is just one totally ordinary [and totally overdue] "gift" for father's day.

do keep in mind, however, that this totally ordinary post is for one totally extraordinary man, the number one guy in my life.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, PAPEEEE!!!

untitled

2005-06-23T16:36:00.001+08:00

i was just about to share the events of the recent days.

suddenly, i had to pull away my fingers from the keyboard and ponder.

do i really want to relive the excruciating pain of having to go through that gigantically frustrating parasitology + microbiology + pathology exam last monday and knowing that no matter how hard i squeeze my brains i would still fail?

do i really want to share to my avid fans that i easily lost pesos of cellphone load yesterday due to the dept. of family medicine's culminating activity called "amazing race to stop tb"?

do i really want to express to the entire blogging community that i am feeling so glad, giddy [and all other adjectives denoting happiness] today about the easiest exam i took in the history of being in college?

do i really, honestly, selfishly want to bore you with detailed accounts of my exploits in the amazingly humdrum lecture-sleep-eat-study-exam routine that is my stint in the college of medicine?

most of you wouldn't even know what the first cranial nerve does even if it is right under your nose.

and, for certain, none of you would even care to wonder about the peculiarities of the many bacterial and viral causes of meningitis unless your head is already bursting at its seams.

but, that is what my life is. replete of terms that not even the most knowledgeable of lay men know.

brimming of theories that even i cannot understand [hence the anticipated failing grade in the 1st exam of the year].

the entries i have in this blog do not always recount anecdotes of "kilig factors", stupidities or happy moments.

but, again, that is what my life is.

call it evil. call it boring. call it sad.

but, never call it fake.

and so with that in mind, i placed my fingers on the keyboard and typed.

urban spelunking

2005-06-21T23:15:00.001+08:00

yes, you read that right.

this afternoon, the class was broken up into 11 groups. our group (the usually oppressed union of studes whose last names start with U/V/W/X/Y/Z) was assigned to observe the day's events in the brgy. kalayaan health center in pasay.

after 20 minutes or so of being steamed dumplings in a pgh van, we were herded to the health center and was regaled by the antics of ate baby, one of the barangay health workers (BHWs). ["dapat tatakbo na ako sa taxi kaso naisip ko wala akong bra." classic.]

after half an hour, the BHWs led a tour around their area for us to see the conditions of the place. and man, no amount of tagalog movies could have prepared me for what i saw.

the houses were on top of one another. some were made of wood. others had unpainted hollow blocks for walls. the alleys we walked through eventually became so narrow that only one person could pass through at a time.

after some time, we reached a creek which looked more like a sewage system gone wild. the stench of garbage and human waste emanated heavily from it.

the spelunking part came during this time. the alleys were so narrow that we really had to walk one at a time. the pavement we were walking on was not even. one of my groupmates even tripped.

it had also been raining so we were careful with our steps for fear of falling on our heads. the houses were so closely built beside each other that, during two or three occasions, sunlight could no longer come through.

dark. slippery. bumpy.

it reminded me so much of caves.

true, others may have seen worse. still, i'd have to admit i never thought people could stand living like that. i could never stand living like that.

life updates

2005-06-19T00:26:00.001+08:00

update on muy guwapito lolo:

he can talk na, but not much. he still has trouble pronouncing words that have the letter E in them.

update on my neurosis:

i am officially sick. i have the flu. but guess what, i still find the energy to blog. harhar.

i just hope i'd be feeling well on monday. i wouldn't wanna have to go through a 240-item exam burning with fever and sniffing my nose off now, would i?

fickle fickle neurosis

2005-06-15T20:32:00.001+08:00

vacillating. wishy-washy. irresolute.

that is how the recent weather has been like.

that is how i have been like.

i woke up at 6 am and prepared for class which begins at 8. the UV-laden rays aren't out yet until around 10 am but, man, the second i stepped out of the building, my face felt like it was burning.

after lunch, we headed back to class. at around 2.30, i was desperately fanning myself with my super maroon fan [peyups loyalist, haha!] when dr. carnate's hemorrhagic lecture was disrupted by rain.

and so we thought. it stopped after one second.

then, it poured again. everyone in the class wooted and laughed. even the sungit (but oh-so-fabulous lecturer) dr. carnate chuckled.

haha, i thought i was the only one who noticed the fickle-mindedness of the rain.

i am sure as hell that by the end of this month, i'd be suffering from a runny nose. [and how i hate having a runny nose.]

how does this superficial event concern my mood?

well, it doesn't.

this month of june, i am just being my bratty self undergoing a neurosis peculiar to me during the month of june.

the illness is called "ihateschoolenia".

when june 6 [my 1st day in school!], i wanted to kick ass, to cram a week before, to bury myself in katoxican.

upon hearing that on june 20, pathology + microbiology + parasitology = one whole morning of exams, i just lost my appetite.

what is wrong with me?

am i just tamad? am i really that un-motivated?

or does the osi [= organ systems integration] curriculum of upcm really just suck?

reality: all about eeeveeee

2005-06-12T17:34:00.001+08:00

call this self-centered entry number one or number two [refer to the "who am i" entry for decision-making].

whatever you think of me after reading this entry, keep in mind that this is my blog, not yours.

my name is ivy vitanzos. i turned 21 last april and was mortified to realize that being 20+ isn't really everything i expected it would be.

i am nowhere near graduating. i still live with my parents. i have never had a boyfriend. AND i still have no idea of where i wanna be when i am 30.

my parents are both retired engineers who used their early retirement pay to acquire franchises of an established hair salon. unlike most children, i have zero complaints about my parents.

they never grounded me, never set a curfew hour and never forced on me what they wanted. uh, double take. just last year, they did not allow me to join a sorority. make that last one a "did not always force on me". still, i do not hold it against them. [though, i still wanna join. harhar.]

yvonnie is my one and only sister. [we also had a third sister, kyvee, however she died after only 8 days.] von had her debutante's ball last december. and i, as the doting ate, took charge of the event.

von and i are polar opposites. i love books, cats, writing, shellfish, sarcasm, alternative rock, statement shirts, and sushi.

she loves telebabad, television, dancing, spicy pancit canton, sweet quotes, mushy love songs, embellished minis, and iced tea. i hate most of the things she likes and vice versa. yet, oddly enough, we are the best of sisters.

i am crazy about my family. but, i am nuts about my friends too.

the ultimate cliche: "tell me who your friends are and i'll tell you who you are."

well, my grade school barkada's name was 'tropang baliw'. i had two set of friends during high school, the 'mababaitz', the 'pugad baboy' and the 'farapeeps'. and now in college, i am part of 'eg pie'. [harhar. told you i was nuts.]

the common denominator among my friends? they are all real people, what you see is what you get, no further questions needed.

"you are one of the few people here who are real" --- this is one of the best compliments i've ever received.

to make others believe you're someone extraordinary when you're actually just an average everyday psycho is so passe. come on, love yourself for what you are and what you can be. doing that can never be as hard as finishing one of my blog entries.

get real.

i would just like to send a special thanks to all the people who prayed for my lolo. he is still in the hospital and until when he would be there, my mom still doesn't know. let us all continue praying for him. i love him so much.

just one prayer

2005-06-08T23:55:00.001+08:00

during class this morning, i received a text from my mom: "c lolo serious. pls pray."

amidst talks about nematodes, cestodes and icky icky worms, tears rolled down my cheeks. [thank you for the comfort, dear matey amiel.]

though he never entered high school, my lolo is an intelligent, well-read man. lolo used to carefully remove the newspaper used to wrap fish. he dries the paper under the sun so that he can read them delightedly afterwards.

he is a voracious reader, a trait i flatter myself into thinking i acquired from him. until now, we, his grandchildren, buy him newspapers to read as pasalubong.

i never thought it was scientifically possible, but lolo is proof that one can still have 20/20 vision in old age.

try as i may, i can not find one bad memory of lolo.

i remember him sawing wood to make study tables for me and my sister.

i remember him climbing up a coconut tree to get all of his grandkids fresh coconuts.

i remember him cheerily drinking beers with my dad and titos.

damn. that is his one fault. he got addicted to alcohol.

it was a decade ago when a male carabao [it's bohol, surprise surprise] rushed into him, leaving gaping wounds on his legs. those wounds never healed.

now, he is a former alcoholic and a full-time diabetic.

just last labor day, i went to bohol with one reason in mind: to see him. once there, i went grocery shopping for utensils and food exclusively for his use.

i left bohol, planning to persuade my mom to find lolo a better rocking chair, to find a new bed and to hire a full-time nurse.

at lunch today, my mom texted that she and my dad were flying to bohol in 4 hours. i didn't protest. i would have gone with them if only i wasn't studying medicine.

mom says lolo is now being fed through a nasally introduced tube. from what i've learned in medicine, there is hope yet. he can recover.

just one prayer. please say it for me, for my family and for one of the few great men i know, my lolo, Felix Polestico Cleopas Sr.

"first day phunk"

2005-06-07T18:58:00.001+08:00

... or "my first day in class".

either title is boring. to heck with titles, who would honestly waste their time on such trivial matters? there are more things in life that ought to be pondered in this precious, precious space... like my life.

harhar.

yesterday, june 6, started out real bad. on a normal day, driving to up-manila from fort bonifacio would take at most half an hour.

on a psycho day (a.k.a. 1st day of classes), it would take half an hour, if you have a device that makes all traffic lights turn green when you pass them by.

my dad pulled out of the garage at 7.30. the first lecture would start at 8.00. i was doomed.

good thing the professors weren't coldhearted enough to close the doors on the poor latecomers, which they sometimes did. i was able to sit next to a fellow imed and ask him about what was going on.

after a few hours, i realized that my day was about to get worse.

well, not really 'my day'... everyone in my class was about to have their worst first day of class.

our first subject for osi lu 4 was hs 202, a course so aptly named "introduction to illness". [if you wanna know what the heck is osi lu 4, just ask me, a member of the first osi class victim.]

let's just say the professors all had a grand time planning activities for the course. they managed to instruct us to do a patient interview report and a family wellness plan in a span of an hour.

imagine all 160+ of us trooping to the out-patient dept of pgh to ambush interview the unknowing patients of the dept of family medicine.

by lunch time, my illusion of having a non-toxic first day was shattered into a million pieces. after lunch, those pieces became a zillion.

after being bombarded by microbiology terms, the doctors herded us to the newly renovated and very, very beautiful laboratory. [the new-ness of the lab made me ask myself if i was still in up-manila. harhar.]

there, they made us use our freshly-acquired knowledge regarding microbio on the hpo and lpo pictures they flashed.

i completely understood the microbio lecture they gave a few minutes ago, but i want more time to read up on what they lectured before i focus on the histology. damn, they're making my ob-c side come out and i don't like it one bit.

after the day's hassle, i just wanted to crash on my bed and sleep for hours and hours and hours.

but, my friends blackmailed me to go to our classmates' house party in nakpil. they said they were gonna ignore me for the rest of our med lives. i was aware that it was a joke, but i reluctantly dressed up and went.

there, we danced, laughed our brains off, and got tipsy. one of the drunk hosts of the party spilled some unknown blue cocktail on my pants.

one puked. others had the sanity to take pictures of those who puked.

some guys took their shirts off. everyone had the stupidity not to take pictures.

i forgot all about the zillion pieces of my shattered first-day dream. at the very end of the day, i was totally thanking my friends they blackmailed me to go.

a high school flashback

2005-06-02T23:06:00.001+08:00

a 13-year old girl steps into a white and brown building for the first time. she comes from an exclusive school for girls. she has never ridden public transportation without a yaya tagging along. all she did, for the ten years of being formally schooled, was go to school, study, be fetched by her dad, do assignments, watch some tv, and sleep.

that was me, almost a decade ago. that was me as i was about to enter the four walls (literally!) of makati science high school.

i still remember what i ranted to my mom the minute i came home from my first day in high school. "the boys were all so loud, ma! i hate them."

harhar. i was in total culture shock for the whole first year.

some people say the best years of their lives were spent in high school. i've only just passed the twenty zone, yet i can truthfully claim my high school years to be four of the best i've ever had.

i formed new (at times inappropriate!) values, honed my budding talents, and obtained lasting friendships.

back then, i couldn't wait to get out of high school and its seemingly repressive, ever-scholastic atmosphere. i wanted to break out and be in the supposedly freedom-filled environment of college.

now, i'm wishing i could jail myself back inside maksci.

buwan ng hunyo.

2005-06-01T13:13:00.001+08:00

i got enrolled. yes, i know, i'm gonna be four years already in this course, but i still haven't accepted the reality that i'm here and i still feel stuck.

school starts on june 6. patho and microbio lec and lab right away. darn.

still, i'm looking forward to the events of next week. the lovely, lovely people of imed block 16 will be having lunch together! wooo... i so miss them.

honestly, i miss the intarmed days. cas subjects galore and not a single ward work session in sight. harhar.

some of my psych major classmates will be throwing a party at their place, they're calling it "the first day phunk". they even gave out glossy invitations which looked like something copied right off the box of a Frenzy condom. harhar!

psychedelia mania, but it was cool nonetheless. they did this last year, too, but i didn't go. i had another thing planned with my high school friends then, now i'm planning on going. hehe.

by friday, my friends plan on going out, maybe swimming somewhere or another night of dancing, hopefully not in malate again. after that, we'll crash at our friend's place, a sleepover but without the sleep. hehe.

last time we had a sleepover, i succumbed to Mr. Sandman and lost consciousness right in the middle of the circle my friends made. haha, loser.

they're thinking "no boyfriends or feeling boyfriends allowed" on our trip? haha, as if. where would we get cars for transpo then? hehe. *user-friendly grin*

darn. i just realized i miss my blockmates, my classmates and my friends. that thought is my only reason for wanting to be back in school again. pathetic really, but it has sustained me all these years.

harhar.

who am i?

2005-06-01T00:33:00.001+08:00

when i hear this question, one phrase comes to mind --- the ateneo de manila university admissions application form. yes, i did apply for ateneo and i take pride in the fact that i passed (with a 50% TF scholarship at that). boasting aside, i am now giving a warning: if you do not wish to read paragraphs upon paragraphs full of words appreciating and deprecating my existence, close this window and find another website to waste your bytes on.

back then, answering that proverbial question was aimed at saying what ateneo needed to hear, that i was a good and able-bodied student who was willing to submit to the curriculum that ateneo offers for my betterment. now, almost half a decade later, i again ponder on this question and answer it through this entry.

who am i? how should i answer this?

should i base the definition of me on what my family and friends see? if so, i am a student of the university of the philippines college of medicine. i still have four years to go before i take and hopefully pass the boards. they all see me as a daughter who is quite stubborn yet ever-understanding, a cousin who knows how to have a good time, a friend whose expertise is listening and just being there, a budding young writer who raked medals in her high school years, and a scholar who rarely fails acads-wise. this who i am to them.

the question lies, however, on who i am to myself. ika nga ni boy abunda, when i look in the mirror, what do i see?

i am not infallible, not as together as many of them seem to believe. i have many fears: of failing, of losing, of regretting. i've cried for no obvious reasons. i actively question most of my religion's teachings. i feel passion for my future career as a doctor but i am not loving what i have to go through to reach it. i would give everything just to write, yet what i am now is hindering me from doing so. i know what i want, still i do not act upon it. i am satisfied but not deliriously happy.

what my family and friends perceive as me is just one-tenth of the iceberg. below that small fraction is an indecipherable tangle of dreams, anxieties, joys, and what-ifs. that is mostly who i am --- a twenty-one year old mess.

if i had sent a "who am i" answer to the ateneo consisting of the words: "i do not know", do you think they would have accepted me? do you think they would have accepted some aimless wandering dreamer to be in their enlistment roll? even seeing it from an optimist's view, i'm sure they would never take the risk.

got plans?

2005-05-26T15:58:00.001+08:00

i know i have.

summer has always been a big deal for my family. it is admittedly the only time we can be together for hours on end without worrying much about von's midterms or papa's franchisees meeting or mama's commission calculations or my rarely felt weekend-only presence at home.

hence, it came as no surprise when my parents, almost automatically, agreed with my sister to shell out money for a much-needed respite from the smog and noise of manila.

first stop would be a five-star hotel, the new world renaissance in makati to be exact. my mom was given a some-kind-of pass that allows the holder to check in the hotel for 24 hours. it is valid until august 2005, however we were all sure that come august, we wouldn't have this much time in our hands. hence, my mom reserved a room for us in the renaissance this friday night.

by saturday noon, we will check out then go to a place that is considerably farther than the renaissance is from our home. the four of us will be going to the nearest haven for manila-based tranquility seekers --- tagaytay.

i've been to tagaytay several times more than i've cared to count. just last year, i went with my college barkada (egpie) there. we went eating, sightseeing, eating, going to mass and then busied ourselves with more eating. a few years back, we brought our cousins and our titos and titas there, and had a grilled fish and pork fiesta. it seems like all i ever do with whoever i am with is eat and talk.

oops, here i am again doing my most favorite unconscious activity --- rambling my brains off.

well, fact of the matter is, despite how many times i've been to tagaytay, i would have to admit i still like coming back. years have gone past since my first memory of tagaytay. back then, sitting on the slopes were the brown huts and endlessly chattering crowd. you smell the distinctive presence of the food vendors and of the must-have for-every-tourist-location animals, the horses. you see a couple gaily taking pictures of each other. you see kids running about, screaming then bawling after scratching their knees. you see an endless sea of overpriced souvenirs and fruits in the commercial area.

when you come to think of it, tagaytay never changes. that is why i still like it. that is why my family keeps coming back to it. a lot has changed with us, but tagaytay is still there, waiting for us to see it again.

anyway, i know i may seem like i am rambling. so, forgive me and forget that this entry ever existed. relax, start your engines, ride to a place where you feel safest, and enjoy summer while it still is here.

kitty + crinkles

2005-05-26T07:44:00.001+08:00

scratch my first post.

i am officially naming this one the first ever post i've made on this blog. after all, a cute blog in a sizzling red hue like this ought to be treated with respect.

hence, for my first post, i shall warn you. never think that what you will read here will cater to your wants and whims because i do not blog here to make you happy. my entries are created to satisfy my need to rant and rave. everything i shall post here is both for self-appreciation and self-deprecation.

kitty plus crinkles? whoever thought that site name must be nuts. heck, you're in luck. i am nuts.

so, welcome to my existence.

first meow.

2005-05-26T04:12:00.002+08:00

i do not know why i got this blog.

i mean, i haven't been able to post on my two other blogs (in tabulas and in livejournal) for ages, so what the heck am i doing here?!