Thursday, December 29, 2005
Mark 12; Meeting God at Mercury
I went to PGH today with mom to visit my uncle who had a gall bladder operation. I was actually ecstatic to enter the surgical ward to observe how the nurses work in the said hospital. Unfortunately, I was faced with an uncaring environment where nurses spend most of the time in the station than do rounds and apply the principles of care.
And who could blame them? Nurses in the country,specifically in the hospital where my school is, are only given a measly 6,000+ monthly starting pay for an 8-hour shift, holidays and sundays included (if the need arises). Imagine, if the fresh grads of my school receive such amount, how much more are given to those who work for the government?
The nurses at PGH, according to my uncle who was confined in the charity surgical ward, only do rounds when medicines would be given. Unlike in MMC, they do not do the every 4-hour vital signs, regular bed bath..etc. I have yet to see if what he claims is true but for the fact that a measly 5% (correct me if i'm wrong) of the GNP is allocated to healthcare, I guess there's a truth to it.
In fact, my professors gave us a mental picture of what to expect in government hospitals, especially in the ER. I had heard a lot of horror stories: of people sharing the same bed in San Lazaro, of doctors allowing people to die if pay was not given, of nurses being rude to low-end patients, of healthcare people giving one IV fluid bottle for 2 to share.
And it just saddens me to stay here and work at a government institution. Being nationalistic, I had these dreams of staying in the country longer than going abroad. I actually told mom I like to work at PGH-ER dept. to know more cases and widen my expertise before venturing to the US to work. But now I'm beginning to doubt my intentions of learning in PGH. I'm afraid I might get the toxicity of the existing nurses; I'd rather stick it out with MMC where care is equated to profession.
As I left my uncle and observed each patient in the ward, I thought of what I'd be in two years. For some of my colleagues, their decisions to go abroad right after grad and earn big bucks
were unanimous; Me, I'm torn between generosity to country or love of family.
~*~
Speaking of generosity, I feel good today that I was able to help a very old woman in Mercury-Edsa Taft a while ago. I was actually aching to go home already as it was late but because of some twist of fate, mom dragged me to Mercury to buy ventolin nebules for my lil bro. As we lined in the receiving area, a lady about 89-90 caught our attention. She was shabbily dressed and was counting coins and mounting them according to class. She was holding a plastic in one hand while the other hand sorted coins. I assumed she might have taken them from her savings and she was about to buy a very expensive medicine considering the heaps of 5-peso and 1-peso coins lined atop the counter's corner.
Nobody bothered her as she counted. I felt an insurmountable pity well up inside of me as I fought my tears away. I looked at mom, whispered to her my concern only to find out she felt the same way.
I had around fifty bucks in my pocket. That was all I had for the day. I didn't bring my wallet for the fear of losing it as we only rode the LRT to PGH. I even hesitated when I got it all out, thinking I might need it on the way home. Yet the urge to give was much stronger that was why though it was a little congested, I went near her and placed all I had in front of her. Mom followed suit and gave the change after purchasing the meds. Then, I received what made my supressed tears fall: a smile and a throaty thanks.
When I saw her smile and nod, it was as if I saw God in her. I was shocked by the manifestation that up to now, I'm still welling up with joy, her face leaving an imprint in memory.
Mark 12 automatically came to mind when I got home. I may not be as poor as the old widow Jesus was pertaining to but I felt good since I know I was able to please God today. That 40 bucks could have gone to my savings for another shopping spree but I'm glad it went to more important hands.
In this world, in this point of time, that old woman could have been in need of forty bucks to buy medicines. If not medicines, food for the day. I'm just glad I was able to give.
God bless to everyone.
10:12 PM
-----*-----
I don't care what the world
throws at me now.
It's gonna be alright.
-----*-----
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Shoepaholic
I spent the day yesterday with Catherine, my best friend in denial. Haha. Actually, to date, I'd like to remove the words "in denial," for apart from the fact we no longer communicate often, I acknowledge her as my best friend.
I actually missed her and I was glad she was still the same old friend back during high school. Only that she became one amusing shoepaholic. Heh...I'd rather call her a shoepaholic than imeldific as I despise Imelda too much. :p
And so the day wore on with her expenditures totalling a whopping 6,000+! She bought a gown and for the record---5 pairs of shoes.
Sigh.
I swear I even saw one lady in SM who had her mouth gaped open for a long time when Cathy passed by with her basketful of shoes. I mean, if I was also an onlooker, I'd also do the same!
Then again, I passed the day getting a few tips from her and I'm uber grateful she came at the time I needed a break from the monotonous activity at home that gave me much time for senti moments.
Plus, she also came at a time I was reinventing myself; that's why by next year if I favor more pumps and strappy shoes than flats and chucks, she's to blame.
Hehe.
Thanks Cathy, you just don't know how happy I was yesterday. I'm gonna miss you again.
Th next time, I'd like Charlene and L.A to be with us; observing people would be lots of sarcastic fun! >:D
7:39 PM
-----*-----
I don't care what the world
throws at me now.
It's gonna be alright.
-----*-----
Sunday, December 25, 2005
It all ends in Christmas
Last night, during the Christmas Midnight Mass, I heard a message from God that stabbed me right in the gut.
Fine, I am a person of great pride. Though I knew it was a capital sin for us, Catholics, I still had unconsciously let pride rule most of the decisions all throughout my life. Sometimes, the sin made things turn okay but twice it had left me heartbroken.
The first time the sin made a big impact on my life was when I let go of my best friend. He was the epitome of the perfect guy; each aspect of a partner, I found in him. But a big dilemma separated the two of us: he had a call for celibacy, something I cannot compete with. Right now, F is in the US, undergoing rehabilitative treatment for Cancer. I partly blamed myself when he was diagnosed to have such since that was the time when he was thinking of giving up the seminary. To cut it short, I left him, fearing more odd things will come his way if I continued to be by his side. 'Til this time, I still regret the day I cut his call short and told him I'm happy with the way things are when in fact I was just fighting the urge to share his cries from the other line. I thought that it was nice to leave it be; that things would be in their proper order once I leave him be. But it left me scarred for three years; I was wrong.
The second time happened recently though I would not like to tell the details in fear that others might misinterpret what I intend to say. He was simply a friend who I shared similar insights with until people gave meaning to the friendship. This caused us to drift slowly apart and act as if we didn't know each other at all. At times when I found ways to say a simple "hi," I hesitated after failed attempts to catch his attention. I never asked him why and for a year, I presumed things such as undiscussed misunderstanding and hate. I convinced myself I did not care when he passes by and people ask why we never knew each other. For a year, I thought wrongly; again, I was mistakened.
Father Paolo's words during last night's mass changed it all. "Christmas is the best time to say sorry, to eat one's pride and to approach an enemy. Peace to all people on earth, peace that must be given to people you have lost contact with..."
The whole night, I was lying in bed, bothered that I never asked and never clarified with him about the tension that occurred for one whole year. Half of my heart was filled with pride, I was scared of being rejected and finding out that I did wrong. But God was persistent and He sent another person to convince me finally.
I got a business card of his number. I didn't keep record of his number since the teasings began. His best friend kept on sending me the business card that when once I had saved it, I did a stupid thing of getting into a heated convo with his other friend. And so since then, future business cards were discarded. Though I hated the feeling of pride, I texted him a merry Christmas for old time's sake. That one text made the thorns in my chest disappear. I got a good explanation and we settled things out. It might still be half done but I am relieved the tension's gone. Next year, I'm hoping things will change. I might not be able to bring back the lost friendship but at least I gained an assurance he wasn't an enemy.
My Christmas, then, is happy. Unexplainably happy. I was bubbly and alive because finally I had peace in my heart.
All I am hoping for is that this will be for long term as if it will just be for the sake of the season, I don't think I can ever stop the tears from streaking down my face.
So to everyone, have a blessed and peaceful Christmas!!
8:47 PM
-----*-----
I don't care what the world
throws at me now.
It's gonna be alright.
-----*-----
Saturday, December 24, 2005
CPM-Bed 27
My first day in the ward was a blast! Because of excitement, I actually woke up at 3:30 am to prepare for the 5:30 am hospital call time. I prepared all my things and fixed myself up for the experience, praying too that the day won't turn out disastrous. Though groggy, mom brought me to school as part of our contract: no condo, no dorm... they're gonna bring me and fetch me by car.
I reached the school early, marveling at the morning rush in front of the registrar's office: the third and fourth years were pinning their caps and rushing to the CR to apply make-up as it was a protocol (since Mrs. Longanilla said that nurses must be always pretty amidst stress since we're the first people to entertain the patients). It was 6:00 when my Clinical Instructor came to fetch us and brought us to MMC's ward at the 2nd floor.
The ward experience was thrilling. I was able to see how feeding via the nasogastric tube was done as the patient was incapable of oral intake, I was able to see how a person fought for his life as the respirator beeped each time air obstruction occurred, I was able to perform capillary blood glucose testing by pricking the patients' fingers using the pricking instrument being used by medtechs to get blood, I was able to perform the bed bath, I was able to chart my findings, I was able to interact with different patients having different cases and I was able to weigh a wet adult diaper for output charting. Whew.
But what really struck me that day was the 90 year old patient I handled who had a poorly monitored Diabetes Mellitus and an Alzheimer's-Dementia for consideration. Lola S actually tested my patience and my therapeutic skills. During the first hour of our meeting, she called me a "masamang bata na papatayin siya" because I nebulized her and she thought that I was making an "orasyon" like what "albularyos" do in the provinces. She even cried to my horror and was yelling at me using her native language. It was a good thing mom was "Bisaya"; her bisaya at home helped me to understand and converse with her. I left Lola after an hour as directed by my CI, hoping she'll forget what I did since she refused to cooperate when I was offering to do the hourly vital signs. After an hour I returned to see her smiling at me, receptive to all the procedures I did that day.
My groupmates were also endeared by Lola. We made her laugh and dance during our duty hours. I even discovered that by making her talk and laugh, she was able to spit out her phlegm easily. The laughter continued the next day and she became more talkative, telling stories about Iloilo and inviting us to come with her. She had a very nice smile and her laughter nearly brought tears to my eyes. This was the beauty of my course, being able to make others smile inspite of maladies.
When I bade farewell to Lola, she simply gave me a huge smile and held my hand as probably a signal of thanks. I smiled in return, knowing that when I get back by January next year, she might not be there in bed 27. Lola may not know how grateful I am since she became God's instrument for me to understand my importance as a nurse and my vow to serve others. As I stepped out of the ward and left her chart in the file row, I felt absolutely good about myself. This is my world now and this is who I like to be.
7:57 PM
-----*-----
I don't care what the world
throws at me now.
It's gonna be alright.
-----*-----
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Surrender
I never really liked Nursing. In fact, of all courses, I loathed it. The modern essence and Filipino perspective of the course was obviously anti-nationalistic. Maybe, only a few took the course solely because of compassion and care but ask the upper 75% who took it and see how their eyes light up with dollars replacing the irises.
I temporarily threw away my court room dreams for nursing because of the very reason that pushed a lot of undergrads to similarly throw away their excellences---parental coercion. I followed my parents against my will, thinking too that since I was the eldest, I should take nursing that if ever worst case scenarios will occur in the future, my brothers will still be assured of a good life and a good education.
Maybe it really was that Filipino trait of close family ties that secured me from shifting courses midway because of supressed regret and depression. Each night during my freshman year and during the first semester of this year, as I sat down beside the night lamp and study medical allied courses related to nursing, I tried my best to comprehend each word for the sake of gaining academic excellence instead of learning the concepts by heart. Since I hated failure, I tried to momentarily remove my doubts and regrets; I memorized, until the wee hours of the morning sometimes, to retain my dean's list position and scholarship that would put a smile to my father's face---something I really long to see since he assumed the role after a long hiatus due to his work abroad. I was striving hard for my parents' smiles and proud faces because that was what made me happy. In short, I was a parent pleaser; I love my parents too much I had to work hard to make them proud of me.
There were times before that when Khacey, Gellie and I were planning to change courses and if not, change schools. We hated the system at my present school. We found the academic curriculum inappropriate, we criticized the long list of dean's listers, we compared the strict standards of UST and UP Manila and we hated the fact that we were not on top of the top10 nursing schools in the country due to a low percentage of board passers. Each day, as my health wasted, my dreams were starting to wave goodbye. I had night dreams of dressing in a corporate attire with stacks of paperworks to be done and cases to resolve. I was often in a trance that instead of wearing a cap and taking vital signs, I was talking to the jury, noting the changes in my voice as the proceedings got hotter.
Because I was not satisfied with my life, I tried out before enrolling for 2nd year in UERM. I was craving for the university life, the diverse array of people swarming large and longer corridors, the vast amount of books in the library, the booming spirit of the academe like that of La Salle and Ateneo during the UAAP, the many different cultural influences, the big time foundations that may send students in campus abroad for international internships and international scholarship education free of charge and many others related to prestige and power. Since I was a kid, I marveled at the high standard education that Harvard, Yale and Georgetown may give if ever I was to continue for Law and if I was to continue to medicine, I had my child eyes directed to John Hopkins.
My UERM application, though was given special treatment, I didn't continue because I will be late for the enrollment in my current university if ever I was to await for the results of my application. I opted not to put my education to jeopardy that was why I forgot ever applying to UERM. And so I continued another semester at my current college despite the hurt feeling and the longing for a UP or Ateneo education.
In between fights with my mom I would always interject my dismay at my course, I blame her for coercing me to something I didn't like, for almost ruining my life because I was steps away from my law dreams. At those times when I would break down after, I ask God the neverending "why?" and fall into another slumber with tears of regret falling from my eyes. The next morning, the vicious cycle continues: I wake up to another early morning to go to school to learn another round of concepts that left my brain at the speed of light.
Then the answer to my questions came all of a sudden. I was confused. I was asking God why I had to take nursing when I can be of service more if I get a course that I liked and at the same time had no heavy workload that would require me to stay up late for duty and case studies each week. It happened one night this sem in the library. I was in the middle of my pain due to the demotion in the dean's list from top 6 to top 18. I lost my scholarship by a 0.01 and I was the object of fleeting gossips. I was looking into the new books section when I found a book on forensic nursing. I grabbed the book and when the words law and nursing found me, I got thrilled. My dream was possible in my current course! I badly wanted to read the book and searched my bag for my library card. When I found out that I left it, it was as if God had made it all happen when I saw Nice beside me and asked me if she could borrow the book for reading. I embraced her and pleaded her to borrow the book for me and I'd return it to her that she can borrow it the next time. Upon her agreement, I jumped at elation, not minding the chaos I was causing in the lib. I dashed for the door and went straight at home and read the book, thanking God I had time since no quiz would happen the next day.
Yet I still felt a little bit hollow; regret was so strong I still had that empty space. But God was too nice he made me realize that I had my best foot forward in nursing all along when duty started. I made good impressions from my superiors for a good case history and was even the mentor for some groups for making the health care plan just by reading Maglaya and writing instincts. Before my group's ward class, I was not sure if I made the right format because the Clinical Instructors left us on our own; they didn't teach us how to make the case history. I was elated when it turned out right and even more elated when we were analyzing the patient's case. I even became too overboard that according to a CI, I was too excited to touch Pathophysio and Microbio when I must not even go deeper into the case. Third year can wait, she said. And because she saw that enthusiasm, I was tasked to do a special report on the respiratory system which turned out impressive.
Maybe this is now surrender. I have held on the white flag for so long yet I never dared to raise it. I raise it now, with conviction. I now love nursing though I had much sleepless nights because of paperworks and duty alongside the other responsibilities in the home, the remaining academic subjects and the church. I now love nursing though my health is taking toll on me; I know God won't allow my life to fall into pieces and my mitral valve prolapse to worsen and my other system deficiencies to get the best of me. I now love nursing; it gave me a good grasp of life and a better understanding of the workings of society. Nursing gave me more inspiration to serve others and serve God; it opened me to reality...to everyday hunger and poverty occuring in areas I never imagined existed. I saw the contrast of rich and poor, of deprivation and abundance in a newer light that would probably leave an indelible imprint 'til the end of my days.
For all these, I thank you God. Maybe, I would not be the person I am right now had you allowed your hand to lead me to Ateneo that fateful September 17, 2003 when I prayed to you to do everything to lead me towards what you want though the consequence is great pain. You allowed me not to take Ateneo when traffic forbade me to enter its gates and made me late. You made mom make a detour from Cubao to Ayala when I thought I'd take UP Manila after securing a slot for enrollment prior my enrollment in my current school. And thank you for making me strong willed to resist the urge to stop and not see what lay ahead of me.
All these, God, all these are for you.
11:04 AM
-----*-----
I don't care what the world
throws at me now.
It's gonna be alright.
-----*-----
