Old Me

I'm back to being my old, boring self.

And I love it.

Big Changes

I feel as if big changes are coming soon. And i'm not saying just big. I mean BIG. Really, really, BIG.

And I'm scared. Who wouldn't be? But if I have to survive this, than I have to face it head on with a big smile on my face.

I could still be wrong, though. So let's keep our fingers crossed.

:)

No Sleeping!

I am currently cramming for all my life's worth. If I have to pull this off, it would mean NOT SLEEPING. Which is, to make it short, utterly impossible for an abnormally sleepy person like yours truly.

But then again, since it's impossible, I might as well believe that I can last through the night without even a wink of sleep. I'd like to make an exception for short naps but based on my past experience, I don't wake up from short naps until the sunlight starts peeking through my windows. So no-no to small naps.

I wonder how I'll do this. Coffee makes me sleepy. It will just have to be the strength of my will, then. Which, really, is not much. Maybe I should post my tuition fee receipt in front of me to remind me how EXPENSIVE medical school is.

*Sigh* I really need a scholarship. Dang!

Okay. So I just couldn't resist dropping a few lines inspite of my incredibly busy cramming schedule.

An update on today's exam. I actually did well. Surprise! Considering the fact that I slept the night away (inspite of my inspirational self-talk), I did amazingly well. It was pure grace through and through. Whether I actually passed with flying colors remains to be seen. (*fingers crossed*).

**Brownout**

Rawr!!!!

**Lights on**

After an hour & a half. Rawr. I guess this means that I absolutely must NOT GO TO SLEEP if I ever hope to get a reasonable score.

Back to cramming. x_x

Flying Colors

I wonder why I always seem to forget how important it is for me to get good grades. Great grades, if possible.

Block 5 has been a disaster. The worst block, so far. I think I failed a couple of exams consecutively. Hmmm.. Definitely not a good sign.

Things are a little shaky in the financial side. I need to get good grades to get a scholarship. I did rather well on the first two blocks. But I've been sliding down since the third block and as I said, this block has been nothing short of a disaster.

How in the world am I going to pull my grades up? Enough to land me a scholarship and make me confident to show my transcript to future employers.

I'd like to just give up.

I know. I know. I suck when it comes to discipline. And I am such a procrastinator that I leave things undone till the very last possible minute. Like, studying. And when there's a major exam looming, I feel a compulsion to "not study". And I get so easily distracted, too.

I have a Module Quiz tomorrow. And I'm not even halfway done with my first reading. Not that I do a second reading. I never really get to that part.

Oh. And I have my Block Finals the day after tomorrow. And I'm not even done studying for tomorrow's little quiz. Hmmm. Not good. I see disaster in the making. My future shines a little less brightly.

But since I'm in the process of practicing how to believe in six impossible things before breakfast, I might as well believe in three things:

1. I will pass tomorrow's Module quiz. (with flying colors!)
2. I will pass the Block Finals. (still with flying colors)
3. I will not block out on the Block Laboratory Practicals. (and pass with flying colors)

I'll think up three more impossibles before I eat breakfast tomorrow.

By the way, what colors make up the "flying colors"?

I'm wandering.

Okay. Back to the books!

***

Third year: 12 weeks left.

Ummm... I should be worried. Seriously, seriously worried.

Frying Pan

Yesterday, I sat back and watched as six of my classmates got boiled and fried and grilled during their CPC (Clinicopathologic Case) presentation.

To be fair, they had a very complicated cardiology case which involved a hypertensive, diabetic, dyslipidemic man with an acute chest pain. They diagnosed him as an NSTE Myocardial Infarction.

To diagnose an MI, you need two out three. That was what the consultant (who had given our cardiology module lectures) had drilled inside our heads. Acute chest pain. ECG. Cardiac enzymes. So the patient had acute chest pain but the ECG result was pretty ambiguous. Their mistake was in considering the CKMB elevated when in fact, it did not meet the criteria.

I squirmed in my seat as they tried to defend their diagnosis, and failed to answer most of the questions, knowing full well that in all probability, I could very easily have made the same mistakes.

What the group missed out was that one tiny detail in the echocardiography result and chest CT which would have explained all of the patient's symptoms. They missed the findings of an intimal flap which could have clinched their diagnosis. It was an aortic dissection.

*

It will be my group's turn in the frying pan soon enough.

The consultant in charge of our case was out of the country so our case presentation was postponed. I still have no idea when it is going to be. I have a feeling we will be dealing with a *insert drumrolls* neurology case. [

We. Are. So. Doomed.

*

These case presentations give us a chance to apply what we've learned in medical school these past three years. We are given real cases and are thoroughly evaluated on how we come up with our diagnosis.

If we get the diagnosis wrong, it will be a couple of minus points for us. But the thing is, pretty soon, we'll be out in the real world, where clinching the diagnosis is a matter of life or death. Treating an aortic dissection patient with an MI regimen is simply catastrophic.

This is such a heavy burden to bear. But that's what we're training for. Because that's what we were born to do.

And now, enough procrastinating.

=)

The Parents

My not-so-little-anymore little brother is off to see THE PARENTS. It seems like it was only just yesterday when I was changing his diapers.

*sigh*

I wonder what mama will say when she hears about this juicy news. *evil sister grin*

Better remind him to give his teeth an extra brush.

=)

Case for Christ

I found myself in Booksale today. It was one of those spontaneous, unplanned moments. Being financially-constrained, I told myself I wouldn’t buy anything. I’d just browse & unwind.

What I love most about Booksale is the joy of the hunt. There’s something immensely gratifying about finding a great book for a low, low price. It’s like finding a diamond in the mud.

The first thing I found was a copy of a book I loved when I was in high school: Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley. It was re-telling of the Arthurian legend through the eyes of Morgaine, or Morgan la Faye. I have read & reread this book countless of times. I have always had a fascination for Arthurian legend and Morgaine has been one of my all-time favorite characters.

I wanted to buy it. But alas! The book costs more than a hundred and I only had P80 in my pocket.

As I continued browsing, I couldn’t resist the itch of buying something. It boiled down to a choice between a Rosamund Pilcher novel and a coming-of-age book from an author I’m not familiar with.

And that’s when I found it. The Case for Christ, by Lee Strobel.

And then I knew why I found myself in Booksale this afternoon. It was for this book.`

The Case for Christ is about a journalist's personal investigation of the evidence for Jesus. It is a retracing of his own spiritual journey from atheism to faith.

This is exactly what I need right now.

To be perfectly honest, my spiritual life’s a mess. I have strayed. I have fallen. I have backslid. I’m in the desert. But it’s moments like this that God speaks to me, His gentle voice cutting through my layers of guilt, and telling me that He cares for me still. That He is there. That He loves me.

And as I read through the pages of this book, I find myself slowly finding Jesus again.

He is calling me back.

Writer's Block

I'm having a writer's block. Well, I've been finding it extremely difficult to find the right words lately. Like, for the past few months. Expressing myself used to be quite easy.

But. On the bright side, having a writer's block reaffirms one thing.

I'm a writer.

=)

Quarter-hour Nap

I'm feeling overwhelmed again.

Too many things to read and understand. Too little time.

So. My solution? Take a nap.

Dinner

Bo's dinner: 2 puso (hanging rice), 2 "tinae" (intestines), 1 bottle of Sparkle

Canarinha's dinner: 4 puso, 3 pork bbq, 1 hotdog, 1 bottle of Sparkle


x_x

A Medstudent

You're a medical student if you think 8 hours of sleep is EXCESSIVE and doing anything remotely fun (e.g. watching a movie, shopping, hanging out with friends, reading novels) makes you feel guilty.

x_x

My Promise

I have finished uploading some of the pictures I took & edited from my Undas Escapade with my family. I have also finished Episode 5 of Code Blue. What I haven't finished... or started, for that matter... is studying for my Module Quiz tomorrow.

I have approximately 18 hours left. Tick. Tock.

My scores from the last exams were... dismal. I haven't exactly failed. It's just that I set a higher standard for myself.

Having watched those five episodes of Code Blue (a Japanese Medical Series revolving around 4 ER Flight Doctors), I have come to the conclusion that if I ever become half as good as Aizawa, I'd die happy.

But the point is not to be half as good as Aizawa but to be just as good. Even better.

The thing is, nobody really wants to be second best. Or third best, for that matter. And with the rate I'm going on with my studies, I'll end up as my worst nightmare: mediocre & incompetent.

Nobody wants to be in the hands of a mediocre & incompetent doctor. I don't want to be that doctor. I especially don't want to be like him, the man who didn't do anything... the doctor who let my friend die.

Until now, his face is fresh on my mind. Imprinted, so it seems. With red flags of warning. He's the doctor I don't want to be.

So. I'm putting this for the record.

I'm going to do my best. No. I'm going to go beyond my limit.

I'll be the best. Just so I won't stand by helpless and let others lose the people they love.

And besides, I promised him. My friend.

Roda!

It's been a long while since I've been inside a Roda. There's something almost magical about being part of that circle, hearing the call of the berimbau, with the pandeiros and atabaque joining in the rhythm of that ancient music.

We have our monthly Roda today. However, I am home in the province. *sigh*

After one year of being a capoeirista, I don't think I have learned that much. Bo does his best, but I try his patience to the utmost. I've been busy and really tired lately. It's a pretty lame excuse, all in all.

I miss capoeira. Miss sweating it out. Miss muscle cramps and falling down and doing handstands (against the wall). Miss the sound of the berimbau. Miss push-ups and prone cobras. Miss the ginga and esquivas and au sem maus and the meia luas.

The thing is, capoeira is now a part of my life. There's no ignoring it.

I will definitely, definitely be back.

So... Home at Last

So. After fighting with my siblings over who gets to go online, I finally am online. So I browse my FB, open my blogs, tried to write, and come up blank.

There was a time when words flowed out from my brain to my fingertips. Those were happier days.

Anyway. So. I'm home at last. And with my two siblings at that. It's a rare event. Since Ex went to college and Cho graduated, we have seldom been home together at the same time.

It's great that we're all home together. The house is definitely more disorganized now that we're here. And mama gets to yell at us lazybones again. But that's the great part. Mama yelling at us. With all of us in Cebu, this house has been silent for too long.

Yesterday was an ordeal.

A drive which could have taken 15 minutes at most on an ordinary day took me more than an hour. The traffic was enough to drive one nuts. And to think the North Reclamation road was a major highway! It certainly didn't feel that way as I went at an agonizingly slow pace, wedged between ten-wheelers! It didn't help that there was an accident. And to top it all, the electricity was down in the pier area. After I finally got myself a ticket (the last ones!), I had to drive home as fast as traffic allowed, stuff clothes inside my bag, pack my Harrison and laptop, and get a taxi back to the pier. The last part was not as easy as it sounds.

But. All of that doesn't matter now. Because I'm home. Finally. Fighting with my siblings over chores and the internet and television. Just like the old times.

And now, I have to worry about getting a ticket back to Cebu.

x_x

Rabo Day

Sunday was Rabo day! (enter fireworks!)

We started the day with our daily ritual of midnight noodles and canton. I gave him my surprise gift afterwards. Actually, it wasn't much of a surprise. I had ordered customized voodoo dolls but then got tagged in FB so he found out about it. Tsk tsk tsk. At least he had the decency to try to act like he was surprised.



Actually, I wanted to give him something else. However, my poor wallet did not allow me.

I made munchkins to make up for it. Actually, I made munchkins because it was the only thing my culinary skills allowed.

We planned another surprise for that day. But it backfired. Again. (I give up on organizing surprises.) Was going to give him a surprise after-dinner party but then he started inviting people to dinner so people got a little mixed up. Anyway, so it was finally cleared up and we went to the Japanese Carenderia for dinner. It was closed. (Surprise!) So we ended up at a friend's BBQ restaurant.

Dinner. Finally.

Then off at last to another friend's house for the real party!

This is where they started playing dress up. He'd actually make a really pretty princess. Ummm... if it weren't for the biceps bulging.

There was booze (for them) and softdrinks (for me), videoke (again!)and an all-night poker tournament. I kept losing and Rabo had to keep supplying me with coins to keep me in the game. We kept this up until sleep (and Red Horse) finally caught up.

Despite the surprises (on my part), it was a really great day.

And none of it would have been remotely possible if it weren't for the following: Arame & Exquisito (whose house we crashed for the night), Gaivota (who had duty the next day but came anyway, Passarinha (who was supposed to go on a trip but decided to be with the gang instead), Martelo (who had to go home to avoid relieving an embarrassing situation... kidding...), Rato (the big bro), Podim & Barullo (who brought chocolates!), and Papagaio and Cascudo (who came for free dinner... hehe..)

Special thanks to Pristine for the hot pink princess dress.

Looking forward to more Rabo Days in the future.

Thank God It's Friday!

Friday Night. Finally!



And with Monday a holiday (Barangay and SK Elections), what better way to spend a Friday night then with friends and a karaoke machine?



It's been a long, long while since we got together. I remember it was at this Karaoke House where I first bonded with them, the capoeiristas. I was the noob then, the new face. Didn't really realize how much a big chunk of my heart this group finally came to occupy.

Tuesday, with its Module Quiz (which I have yet to start studying) will come soon enough. But I'm glad I had Friday.

x_o

shocked

I could hear the collective inner groan as we saw the special lecture topic was about *insert drum rolls here* Shock.

There's nothing wrong about the lecture topic itself. Shock was something we all needed to learn by heart. Hypovolemic shock. Traumatic shock. Distributive shock. Cardiogenic shock. Signs & symptoms. Management. Prognosis. Blah blah blah.

But the thing was, we probably had the same lecture over and over and over again by different lecturers. I don't know if it was a mistake or if they really meant to drill every single thing about shock into our thick skulls. Or maybe they just wanted to torture us.

But when she started talking about Shock, well, we were shocked.

She talked at lightning speed (she reminded me of the teaching videos), had a wry sense of humor, delivered punchlines with a straight face, and said "ummm" only twice. (I counted.)To sum it all up, she was brilliant. I was starry-eyed with admiration.

And I think at least 70% of the material actually penetrated my thick skull.

She was a huge contrast to another lecture we had that morning. I won't say anything more except that I know he knows his material (or he wouldn't be standing in front of us) but that he wasn't an effective lecturer. I spent the whole time daydreaming. (Which makes me guilty, now that I have confessed about it.)

Another lecturer we had recently must have been really good with her field and understood what she was talking about. We just wished she'd look at us while she talked instead of staring at the LCD screen the whole time. Anyway, everybody felt it was a waste of time and nobody listened.

My point: Most of the time, I blame the lecturer. If I didn't listen, it's because the lecturer was boring. But then again, it all boils down to me in the end. They've been through all that already. I haven't. And if I don't listen, it's not their loss. It's mine.

x_x

Reminder to self: Listen to lectures. Even if you're bored to death. Even if you're falling asleep on your chair.

Copyright, 1975

One of the first things I fell in love with in my medical school was the library. Having graduated from a state university with it's not-quite-so-impressive armament of books, I was positively thrilled peeking through those glass doors and gazing upon rows and rows of shelves stuffed full of medical knowledge just waiting for me to absorb.

What can I say? I was young and naive.(Still am, mostly.)

I was well into my second year before it finally hit me. (It took me long enough.

Our library is a museum!

There were books as old as Copyright, 1975. The oldest I found was Copyright, 1981.

Seriously. Maybe it's sentimental values. Or maybe it's the historical value aspect. I dunno. All I know is that those really old books are useless. Nobody... as in NOBODY... reads them.

We do have the latest editions, safe and sound inside the Reserve Section. And since there are as few as one copy each, we'd have to outwit everyone else if we wanted to take the books home for the night.

Well... it's not that I'm complaining. But then again, maybe I am.

x_x

the making of a case pre

The case I was going to present was given to me eleven days ago. ELEVEN DAYS AGO.

There was this really good case which my groupmate did not want to take. He already had a case (the one given to the group as a requirement) and with Block Finals coming up, he didn’t want to go to the bother of making another history and physical exam and plan of management. I was next in line so I volunteered.

Most people get their case five to seven days before they present. The unluckier ones get cases three days prior.

I, on the other hand, am more than lucky. I am extremely lucky, because aside from getting my case 11 days prior, there was going to be no Module Exam on Monday. Most people have to juggle studying for module exam & preparing for their CP. The unluckiest have in addition to those, a Clinicopathologic Case Presentation. Not me.

I had a lot of time in my hands so I did not worry. And so “I’ll do it tonight” turned to “I’ll do it tomorrow” which turned to “I’ll do it on weekend” until I woke up on a Monday morning with a case presentation 25% done. The presentation was going to be the next day.

Anxiety turned to mild panic. To finish on time, I absolutely had to stay up the whole night. However, my good intentions were no match for my inherent abnormal sleepiness. I woke up at twelve midnight, still without a differential diagnosis and a plan of management, with no clue on how to proceed. I worked feverishly at an agonizingly slow pace until 3:30 in the morning, fell asleep, woke up at 6:30, went into another panic mode, and finally… FINALLY… finished at 12 noon.

*Sigh*

Some lessons I just never learn.

The Long Road to Medical School

For the umpteenth time, I am late again. I guess that's kind of inevitable if your class is at eight am and you wake up at half past seven.

That wasn't quite a problem before. I am gifted with the ability to take a bath in less than ten minutes (if I skip the daydreaming part), and the lecturers are often late, and because I had Yesu, my beloved 1997 Honda Civic.

However, due to parental conflict, Yesu was grounded and I am left to the mercies of jeepney drivers and early morning pollution.

I guess it wouldn't have been much of a problem if school was only one jeepney ride away. However, I have to take a grand total of three jeepney rides to get to school. This morning, I had to wait for around 5 minutes for 01K, the last jeepney that would take me to school.

On the brighter side, it wasn't raining this morning. (PS. I don't own an umbrella.) And to my great joy, that dusty dirt road en route to school is now paved. Thank you, City Government. It took you long enough. Plus I am wearing my brand new shoes and is therefore no longer suffering excruciating pain.

And with that, I arrive 30 minutes late and missed 15 minutes of lecture.

Bow.

x_o

Kiddie Doctor Birthday Bash

I am a naturally semi-antisocial person. It's not that I don't like people. It's just that I don't like it when there's a lot of them in the same room at the same time. I make an exception for church, schools and hospitals.

So I don't attend victory parties, end-of-blocks parties, end-of-semester parties and the whole lot of them. I am duty-bound to attend Acquaintance Parties so I tolerate those, but you don't see me hanging around after.

Maybe I'm not really antisocial. Maybe I'm just a kill-joy.

But for this girl, I'd do anything. Even if it means going to Marco Polo and trying to look presentable and civilized.


And guess what? I actually had fun. Thanks Nix for a rip-roaring birthday bash.

Crime

Sleeping more than twelve hours should be a crime.

Especially if you're a medical student.

Twice as especially if you're a medical student who is yet to start reading for the next day's PBL Case Synthesis (it's all about pulmonary edemas)and start preparing for a case she has to present on Tuesday (ovarian tumor(???)).

The case I'm presenting on Tuesday is an interesting one. Maybe I'll write a little about it later, when I'm done making my presentation and have actually read a little about it.


x_x

Farewells

Farewell, Block Four!

Farewell, Hematology. We don't really get along that well. You see, you get me all confused.

Even until now, I don't think I'll be able to recognize myelocytes and myeloblasts and lymphocytes & lymphoblasts and plasmablasts and all the rest of your deadly arsenal.

And I still confuse AML with ALL and CML with CLL. Or wait, maybe it's AML with CML and ALL with CLL I'm confused with. Hmmmm. And of course, how could I ever forget Hodgkin's and the Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma and the rest of the family?? Well truth be told, it was pretty easy.

You gave me headache and you did a splendid job of getting me to state of depression in less than thirty minutes with the laboratory exam you set up with your Pathology buddies. Oh, well. No use crying over spilled milk. And it was pretty much my fault why I messed up.

I don't think you know this, but I actually kind of liked you. I guess the feeling isn't mutual, huh? I hope to get to know you better, though. Don't worry. I won't be pursuing you.

Farewell, Cardiology!

I guess you know by now you have swept me off my feet. I am utterly captivated. I cannot resist the charms of myocardial infarctions and the rest of the coronary syndromes. My heart skips a beat and dances a jig when I hear the sweet, arrhythmic sound of arrhythmias.

You are such a hard-to-get. I had an epistaxis and almost bled to death listening to your lectures. And I am still hopeless with ECGs. Trying to interpret a strip makes me feel like an archaeologist making sense of hieroglyphic inscriptions.

You give me every reason to get discouraged. But I won't give up on you. I'll never give up on you. I'll pursue you till the very ends of the earth.

This is just a temporary setback in our relationship. Goodbye for now. But you'll be seeing a lot of me someday soon. You can count on that.

xoxo.


PS. Hello Block 5. Let's get along together, shall we?

The Same Feather

Anyone can survive medical school. The trick is in keeping your sanity. And if you've lost it in the first place, then congratulations! You have one thing less to worry about.

But what's wonderful about medschool is that following the principle of "birds of the same feathers are the same birds", you'll never be wanting for crazy friends! In fact, you'll have more than you can handle.



Thanks dearest friends, for making medlife not only tolerable, but crazy fun!

x_x

First Time

There's always a first time. Performing on dummies don't count. Besides, that was last year. And watching videos or memorizing the steps help... but not much.

I've been dreading it for a while now. Bimanual pelvic exam. Scalpels can cut through skin and muscles and organs. But pelvic exams are just as invasive, cutting through a woman's inner walls. But it couldn't be help. I need to perform two such procedures to pass my OB-Gyne rotation.

She was just a year younger than me. She shouldn't have been in that hospital bed and I shouldn't have been poking my fingers in places where my fingers should have had no business with.

She had vaginal bleeding, three weeks after finding out she was having a baby. She lost her child. And the foremost thought in my head was how to do my first bimanual pelvic exam right.

So I performed the procedure. I wasn't ready for it. I hope I didn't do too much of a bad job. She was dealing with too much as it is. She didn't need me to add to her growing list of awful things happening.

I hope she's okay now. I am more than grateful for the experience and I hope I do better next time. I am never going to be an obstetrician... or a gynecologist... but that doesn't mean I won't be meeting girls like her one day, needing help, needing an experienced, caring person. I hope to be one someday.

x_x

Coffee...zzzzz...

I seem to have developed an idiopathic reaction to coffee. I go sleepy.

That's it. No more coffee for me. I'll stick to midnight noodles and soda.

x_o

Instant Fix

There was a time when I didn't even touch the stuff. As a kid, my mother used to tell me not to drink coffee because it was "bad for my health". Well, I suppose that no longer applied to a twenty-ish girl. But the idea stuck. Add to that the fact that I have terribly embarrassing hand tremors.

So, unlike your regular coffee-shop-medstudents, I spend my "study out" sessions at McDonald's, with coke floats or hot fudge sundaes and when I'm feeling extra rich, regular fries. Besides, I'd go broke if I have to spend for a single cup of coffee from Starbucks or Bo's or wherever it is my classmates hang out.

However, I have come to the conclusion that coffee is an essential part of a medical student's life. How else can I keep my eyes open enough to stubbornly plough through at least a few pages of Harrison's Principles of Internal Medicine? Not to mention the fact that I have to at least quickly scan through William's Obstetrics to at least get a clue about the common differential diagnosis for vaginal bleeding.

I am pining for my bed. But some things have to come first.

And so off I go, not to Starbucks, but to the nearest bakery shop for a quick fix of
inexpensive, steaming hot, instant coffee.

x_o

Another Day

I always have these grand intentions before the start of semestral breaks. A day or two of wasting oxygen and then the rest of the 2-week vacation in the pursuit of my dreams.

In reality, it's not even the other way around. As I look back on those lazy September days spent in front of the computer, surfing the net or reading ebooks till my eyes drop, I sigh with regret.

But then again, today's another day.

Cheers to another chance at life!

x_x

07

Funny how when your heart's full, you end up speechless. There are a lot of things I want to say. And maybe one of these days, I'll find the words to say them all. But for now, all I can say, is that I've found my place. And I'm not going anywhere. This canary isn't flying anywhere. She has found a home.

<3

Little Big Brother, Little Big Sister

My little brother's arriving on Friday.

Oh. Wait. Did I just say little? He towers over me now, even when I'm in high heels. I can still remember the times when he was just a wimpy little crybaby I watched over and played with. I remember being called to the kindergarten room the day he... Ooops. I almost slipped. That's a top secret. He'll kill me if I publish embarrassing stories. :p

Oh, I just remembered something. This happened when he was in kindergarten, I think.

Papa: Unsa imo kuhaon nga kurso ig dako nimo, dong?
Excel: Kanang naa sa bangko, pa.
Papa: Aw. Manager? Maayo na xa.
Excel: Di pa. Kanang magtindog sa pultahan.

Hahahahahahahhaha. That's my little brother. While kids his age were dreaming of becoming Superman and Power Rangers someday, he dreamed of becoming a Security Guard. At least he's realistic.

I guess it's safe to say he has outgrown his childhood dream since he's taking up Respiratory Therapy. And if he doesn't get tired of studying, he might even go into Medicine later on.

My little sister, who also happens to be a few inches taller than I am, will be taking the Nursing Licensure Exam in a few more weeks. When we were little, I remember her telling mama she's going to be a nurse by day and a bus driver at night. Hahahahha. And in addition to becoming a bus driver, she was thinking of converting her bus to a mini-carenderia at the same time. Talk about ingenuity!

She'll achieve half her dream very soon. I wonder if she'll push through with the bus driver career. She's thinking of taking up Culinary or Interior Designing though so maybe the bus driving thing will have to come later.

Our childhood days are over. We're all growing up. The days of fighting over toys and the "pan" mama brings home after work are memories now. *sigh*

Oh, wait. Not really. We still fight over food a lot. And we fight over the internet. And household chores. And every little thing we can think of fighting over.

It may not be obvious, but we're actually pretty close to each other. Yes, we fight a lot. But that's because we love each other. (Eeeew) I think. Hahahahha.

And now I'm going to stop being sentimental over my siblings. Because my brother and I will be roommates in a few more days and that means we'll be squabbling on a daily basis. And when we move into our new house around October, my sister will move in with us and that means the beginning of World War III.

Can hardly wait. This is going to be so much fun.

O_o

Dawn

Dawn found me on the streets with Yesu, going the opposite direction in a one-way road, beating the red light, U-turning on a "no U-turn", and going left on a "no left turn". With the CITOMs fast asleep, I glory in the freedom of the streets.

I am not, by nature, a morning person. As a rule, I wake up as late as possible. But there are rare moments when dawn finds me awake and alive.

I love dawn. I love the hush of the city... love how the night sky gives way to the blue and orange pastels of early morning. Love the cool morning air and the palest rays of sunshine. Love how the world seems to slow down and take a breath...

Dawn tells us we can can still make up for the wrongs we've done. We've got one more chance to do things right, to forgive, to laugh, to dream, to work, to just breathe.

We have one more day.

<3

Sleepless Nights

My clock says 10:13 and I've got around... oh... five more chapters to read. And nineteen more chapters to read again because I don't think the information stuck when I read them the first time. Oh. And how could I forget my report for the case presentation which I should have finished, like, 2 days ago?

My head stills feel pretty clear. That's a miracle in this hour. But then I've got more or less 45 minutes till my body goes into automatic shut-down. It's incredibly hard for me to stay up till eleven. Around that time, my feet would automatically lead me to the bed. I tell myself lies (e.g. I'll just sleep for 15 minutes). And the next thing I know, daylight is poking through the windows.

I have a friend who's an intern now. She can go two to three days straight without sleeping. How she does it beats me. I envy her.

Obviously, I'm not your typical medstudent. I wish I could brag about staying up all night to study.

This, however, is my last year of formal classroom education. Next year, they're going to throw us into the lion's den. I'm not confident handling patients with the knowledge I have right now. This year could be make or break for me. So I promised myself to go beyond my limit. And go beyond my limit I shall! As they say, what makes ordinary extraordinary is that little extra.

So tonight, for the first time in a long while, I'm going to attempt doing what I've failed to do during my last two years of medschool. I am going to break through my automatic shutdown mode, armed myself with a cup of iced coffee and Switchfoot, my former study companion. I pray that I'll last through the night.

So help me God. Can't do this on my own strength.

o_O

Mood Bracelet

My bestfriend gave me a mood bracelet. It has a bright yellow, rubber strap and a tiny slipper attached to it. The slipper changes color, depending on my mood. The instruction is simple enough. Touch the slipper against your skin and wait for the color to change. Blue for happy. Light blue for chill. Green for active. Orange for unsettled. Violet for romantic. Black for stressed out.

Well, being the logical, rational creatures that we were, we figured out that it's not our mood, but the temperature, that causes the slipper to change color. I think that was obvious enough from the very beginning. But that little piece of knowledge would take the beauty out of the bracelet. So I tell my rational self to shut up and just make believe that it does work.

I love to watch the colors shift and change and blend. Sometimes I'd plunge my hand on a pail of water, or hold it against the air conditioner, just to see the transformation. It gives me a childish sense of pleasure and wonder.

The slipper is seldom just one color. Sometimes it's blue with a tinge of violet, or orange with black edges, or a blend of greenish blue. Like our emotions. We are seldom purely happy. Or purely sad. Purely calm. Purely stressed. Purely angry. At any one point in time, we are a mixture of emotions, some bubbling just above our surface, others hidden way beyond the depths of our souls. If we could only light up depending on our mood, the rainbows would pale in comparison.

When my childlike self goes back to her quiet corner at the back of my head, and the rational me steps out in its place, I find myself wishing the mood bracelet was real. I wish it really could tell me how I feel. Because more often than not, it's all too confusing. It's just so hard to tell.

What am I feeling right now? I don't know. My bracelet says blue.

<3

Filthy Rich, MD

A shiny black Porsche was parked in that special nook in the hospital reserved for the powers that be. I may be a girl but there's something about that sleek black car that makes your heart skip a beat. The other day, it was Mini Cooper beckoning at me from that spot. And how could I forget that black Mercedes?

Still I wouldn't trade my Yesu for anything... even a Porsche. He may be thirteen years old and covered in dust, but my heart belongs to him. Hmmmm... a little convincing might change my mind, though. Hehe. (PS. Just kidding, Yesu.)

Cars like that give people the wrong idea about doctors in general. And it's not just the cars. It's the mansions and the clothes and the bank accounts. However, an MD attached to your name doesn't instantly make you filthy rich. In fact, it may never make you filthy rich at all. The filthy rich ones are often those born filthy rich in the first place.

So my point is, one shouldn't go into medicine if one's purpose is to become filthy rich. Fact: A resident gets paid P15,000 a month. Give or take a few thousand. That's just about the salary of a call center agent. In fact, I think they earn more. Plus they get all those benefits.

Well, residents eventually move up the medical food chain and become attendants and consultants. And they might end up filthy rich. But then again, they may not.

Dreaming about owning a black Porsche someday isn't wrong. But going into medicine for the money (and the honor, respect, prestige, power and everything else which goes along with it), is not just bad idea. It's a stupid one, too. You'll just end up miserable.

Note to self: Twenty years from now, buy yourself a Porsche. But don't you dare junk Yesu.

<3

Terjer

People ask me what year I am. I tell them I'm in third year. I get that certain look at times. It's as if in their eyes, I'm practically a doctor.

If they only knew.

It's incredibly scary to have gone this far and yet not have moved an inch. It certainly feels that way.

The almost-pristine pages of Guyton's Medical Physiology, Harper's Biochemistry, Robbin and Cotran's Book of Pathophysiology, William's Obstetrics, Harrison's Principles of Internal Medicine, Schwartz's Principles of Surgery, and the rest of that elite gang, cast disapproving glares at me from their various perches around my room.

I am haunted by the knowledge that there's so much I do not know. And should have known by now. The magnitude of my ignorance is daunting. And yet... oddly enough, it makes my life so much more interesting. Fun, even. There's so much to learn... and learn again...

I'm a third year medical student. A junior clerk. And while the end is not yet in sight, I am enjoying every minute of this nerve-wracking, sleep-deprived journey.

Because the truth is, there never really is an end to this.

<3

The Healer

The Healer
To a Young Physician

So stood of old the holy Christ
Amidst the suffering throng;
With whom His lightest touch sufficed
To make the weakest strong.

That healing gift He lends to them
Who use it in His name;
The power that filled His garment's hem
Is evermore the same.

For lo! in human hearts unseen
The Healer dwelleth still,
And they who make His temples clean
The best subserve His will.

The holiest task by Heaven decreed,
An errand all divine,
The burden of our common need
To render less is thine.

The paths of pain are thine. Go forth
With patience, trust, and hope;
The sufferings of a sin-sick earth
Shall give thee ample scope.

Beside the unveiled mysteries
Of life and death go stand,
With guarded lips and reverent eyes
And pure of heart and hand.

So shalt thou be with power endued
From Him who went about
The Syrian hillsides doing good,
And casting demons out.

That Good Physician liveth yet
Thy friend and guide to be;
The Healer by Gennesaret
Shall walk the rounds with thee.

~John Greenleaf Whittier