Somebody better smack me on the head to remind me to:
1. not worry too much
2. stop stressing over things I cannot control
3. be P-A-T-I-E-N-T
Friday, October 16, 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Ala-ala Sa Donut
Kanina, pagkagaling namin ng anak kong limang taong gulang sa kanyang barbero, dumaan kami sa Dunkin’ Donuts bago maglakad pauwi. Pagkakain ng hapunan, kumuha ako ng platito at nilagay ang aking paboritong Nutty Choco, sabay hablot ng isang tinidor. Biglang nanumbalik sa akin ang mga alaala ng panahon noong high school na kumain kami ng isang kaklase sa Dunkin’ sa may National Bookstore sa Quezon Avenue.
Ibang-iba pa noon. Una, ang Dunkin’ merong dine-in kahit na puro donut, croissant at kape lang ang tinda. Nakakatuwa noon kasi parang feeling ko espesyal kahit na donut lang. Wala pa kasing Dunkin’ sa probinsya namin noon e. Tapos, sine-serve ang donut sa isang babasagin na platito at tunay na tinidor (hindi plastic o disposable). Meron ata akong Coke noon. Malaki-laki pa noon yung donut at yung chocolate ibang klase, hindi tunaw. O baka dahil sa aircon ang loob di gaya ng binilhan namin ngayon.
Kaligayahan ko talaga noon ang mag-ikot-ikot lang sa National Bookstore (NBS). Tingin tingin lang ng mga pad, ballpen, Jingle magazine, at kung anu-ano pa. Naalala ko na kahit wala naman ako masyadong binibili noon kundi paisa-isang ballpen at konting scratch paper, masaya ako sa paggagala sa loob. Inaabot ako ng mahigit isang oras. Pinakamatagal ata ako noon sa pag-browse sa may mga greeting cards, lalo na sa may Between Me and You. Nagpapaka-senti at nangangarap… kailan kaya ako makakatanggap ng ganito?
Tapos iba pa yung lugar na pinapaligiran ng NBS. Di pa ganun kalaki yung NBS, tapos meron mga ilang hakbang pababa bago makarating sa loob. Sa may paligid at bungad, andun ang iba’t ibang mga tindahan. Meron pa ngang Bread Connection noon at favorite namin ng bestfriend ko yung round bacon, sarap. Tapos sari-saring mga shops sa paligid… meron parlor kung saan naaalala ko ay shocked ako nang sinamahan ko ang isang kaibigang taga-Cagayan de Oro na magpagupit doon tapos nadiskubre ko na 80 o 90 pesos ang gupit! Kasi naman 1989 pa ito no, sobrang mahal! Minsan bumibili din ako ng guitar string or pick sa isa sa mga shops doon.
Tapos meron isang shop sa sulok na nagtitinda ng mga gamit pang-magic tricks. Tapos sa harapan ng NBS mismo, ,meron Gift Gate at kahit pa ang hindi kalakihan ang baon ko at ballpen lang naman ang afford kong bilhin noon, pasok pa rin ako. Pag may bagong ballpen na Sanrio,, ay ang saya! Excited na pumasok sa school kinabukasan at mag-notes.
At pag medyo malaki-laki ang naipong baon, hala. Tatawid ng Quezon Avenue papunta sa McDo para kumain ng fried chicken. Meron pa silang promo noon na pag “doubles” ang meal na in-order (meaning 2-piece chicken with rice), meron extra piece. 2 + 1 ang tawag. Tapos large coke. At ubos ko yun ha. Grabe, katakaw! Growing kid, pagbigyan na natin.
Hay, tumatanda na yata talaga ako. Mid-life crisis na nga yata talaga ‘to. Napapansin ko kasi na pag walang magawa, ang utak ko ay parating napapadpad sa mga nakaraan ko… mga ala-ala ng pagkabata sa aming probinsya or madalas, mga alala ng high school. Masaya noon. Wala pa masyadong mga alalahanin. Napaka-carefree. At madaming mga “exciting” na pangyayari, kahit pa mga simpleng kakiligan lang sa isang dosena kong mga crush. Asan na kaya mga yun?
Ibang-iba pa noon. Una, ang Dunkin’ merong dine-in kahit na puro donut, croissant at kape lang ang tinda. Nakakatuwa noon kasi parang feeling ko espesyal kahit na donut lang. Wala pa kasing Dunkin’ sa probinsya namin noon e. Tapos, sine-serve ang donut sa isang babasagin na platito at tunay na tinidor (hindi plastic o disposable). Meron ata akong Coke noon. Malaki-laki pa noon yung donut at yung chocolate ibang klase, hindi tunaw. O baka dahil sa aircon ang loob di gaya ng binilhan namin ngayon.
Kaligayahan ko talaga noon ang mag-ikot-ikot lang sa National Bookstore (NBS). Tingin tingin lang ng mga pad, ballpen, Jingle magazine, at kung anu-ano pa. Naalala ko na kahit wala naman ako masyadong binibili noon kundi paisa-isang ballpen at konting scratch paper, masaya ako sa paggagala sa loob. Inaabot ako ng mahigit isang oras. Pinakamatagal ata ako noon sa pag-browse sa may mga greeting cards, lalo na sa may Between Me and You. Nagpapaka-senti at nangangarap… kailan kaya ako makakatanggap ng ganito?
Tapos iba pa yung lugar na pinapaligiran ng NBS. Di pa ganun kalaki yung NBS, tapos meron mga ilang hakbang pababa bago makarating sa loob. Sa may paligid at bungad, andun ang iba’t ibang mga tindahan. Meron pa ngang Bread Connection noon at favorite namin ng bestfriend ko yung round bacon, sarap. Tapos sari-saring mga shops sa paligid… meron parlor kung saan naaalala ko ay shocked ako nang sinamahan ko ang isang kaibigang taga-Cagayan de Oro na magpagupit doon tapos nadiskubre ko na 80 o 90 pesos ang gupit! Kasi naman 1989 pa ito no, sobrang mahal! Minsan bumibili din ako ng guitar string or pick sa isa sa mga shops doon.
Tapos meron isang shop sa sulok na nagtitinda ng mga gamit pang-magic tricks. Tapos sa harapan ng NBS mismo, ,meron Gift Gate at kahit pa ang hindi kalakihan ang baon ko at ballpen lang naman ang afford kong bilhin noon, pasok pa rin ako. Pag may bagong ballpen na Sanrio,, ay ang saya! Excited na pumasok sa school kinabukasan at mag-notes.
At pag medyo malaki-laki ang naipong baon, hala. Tatawid ng Quezon Avenue papunta sa McDo para kumain ng fried chicken. Meron pa silang promo noon na pag “doubles” ang meal na in-order (meaning 2-piece chicken with rice), meron extra piece. 2 + 1 ang tawag. Tapos large coke. At ubos ko yun ha. Grabe, katakaw! Growing kid, pagbigyan na natin.
Hay, tumatanda na yata talaga ako. Mid-life crisis na nga yata talaga ‘to. Napapansin ko kasi na pag walang magawa, ang utak ko ay parating napapadpad sa mga nakaraan ko… mga ala-ala ng pagkabata sa aming probinsya or madalas, mga alala ng high school. Masaya noon. Wala pa masyadong mga alalahanin. Napaka-carefree. At madaming mga “exciting” na pangyayari, kahit pa mga simpleng kakiligan lang sa isang dosena kong mga crush. Asan na kaya mga yun?
Pockets Of Peace
I get this weird sense of profound peace at the most unusual places. Earlier this evening, as my 5-year-old son and I walked from his barber to a nearby Dunkin’ Donuts and then back home, I looked around and felt like there was nothing I wanted more. It was the first time his barber gave him a clean shave of his sideburns with a few skillful swishes of his labaha. Seeing other parents walking home with their little kids in uniforms, I felt one with the world. Folks in their office uniforms were everywhere, some clutching pasalubong for their families, I suppose. It is not easy to explain. But seeing these people made me feel like there is no rat race. There is a human race. And it felt wonderful to be part of it.
Somehow, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d feel the same sense of belonging once we move to our dream house in a dream village somewhere south of Manila. Would the clubhouse or the well-paved streets, or the manicured pocket gardens spread around the village give me the same kind of peace?
I distinctly remember how, once, I walked in pouring rain from a day spent at the library (see July 10, 2009 post).Taxis were hard to come by. People were scrambling to get their rides on buses and jeepneys. I decided against roughing it out with them and pursued the “scenic” route. That meant clutching my old blue umbrella, carrying my book-filled bag on my right shoulder, and walking along the side streets to my home. It was very quiet save for the sound of raindrops hitting my parasol and the faint squish-squash my feet were making against my sandals. The considerable distance to my home did not matter. There was no anxiety about making it home drenched. No worry about kidnappers that may have been lurking in the deserted corners . All I felt was peace and contentment.
Thank God for these pockets of peace.
Somehow, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d feel the same sense of belonging once we move to our dream house in a dream village somewhere south of Manila. Would the clubhouse or the well-paved streets, or the manicured pocket gardens spread around the village give me the same kind of peace?
I distinctly remember how, once, I walked in pouring rain from a day spent at the library (see July 10, 2009 post).Taxis were hard to come by. People were scrambling to get their rides on buses and jeepneys. I decided against roughing it out with them and pursued the “scenic” route. That meant clutching my old blue umbrella, carrying my book-filled bag on my right shoulder, and walking along the side streets to my home. It was very quiet save for the sound of raindrops hitting my parasol and the faint squish-squash my feet were making against my sandals. The considerable distance to my home did not matter. There was no anxiety about making it home drenched. No worry about kidnappers that may have been lurking in the deserted corners . All I felt was peace and contentment.
Thank God for these pockets of peace.
Sorry, Lord
I apologize, dear God, for the sorry attitude I’ve been displaying since yesterday. Today I realized I have been doing my best to forget about that tiny incident the other day. Sorry talaga, Lord. Such a loser. Pasensya Ka na dahil pikon ako. Pikon na pikon.
Humuhingi ako ng tawad dahil sa para bang nakalimutan ko na lahat ng mabubuti kong adhikain at pangarap. Naisip ko, isa yatang pagpapanggap ang sinasabi kong hangarin na makatulong sa mga kapwa ko taga-Q_____. Pagpapanggap na ang sa ilalim ay ang hangarin na kumita. Ng malaki. Kaagad.
Sorry, Lord dahil sa una ko pang iniisip ang napakailap na Fino bag na ipinangako ko sa sarili ko na bibilhin ko sa oras na magsimula akong kumita sa mga consultation at biopsy. Sorry talaga, Lord, kung nahahalata mo na nagkakaroon ako ng feeling of entitlement. As if I deserved this. As if I got here solely on my merits with no help whatsoever.
Sorry, sorry po. Humihingi po ako ng tawad. Hinihiling ko rin po ang napakahabang pasensya. Patience.
Turuan n’yo po akong magpasalamat pa nang husto sa Inyo. Turuan n’yo po ako na i-enjoy ang bawat oras at bawat araw. Sabi nga sa kanta, “ang magbigay nang ayon sa nararapat na walang hinihintay mula sa’Yo”.
Humuhingi ako ng tawad dahil sa para bang nakalimutan ko na lahat ng mabubuti kong adhikain at pangarap. Naisip ko, isa yatang pagpapanggap ang sinasabi kong hangarin na makatulong sa mga kapwa ko taga-Q_____. Pagpapanggap na ang sa ilalim ay ang hangarin na kumita. Ng malaki. Kaagad.
Sorry, Lord dahil sa una ko pang iniisip ang napakailap na Fino bag na ipinangako ko sa sarili ko na bibilhin ko sa oras na magsimula akong kumita sa mga consultation at biopsy. Sorry talaga, Lord, kung nahahalata mo na nagkakaroon ako ng feeling of entitlement. As if I deserved this. As if I got here solely on my merits with no help whatsoever.
Sorry, sorry po. Humihingi po ako ng tawad. Hinihiling ko rin po ang napakahabang pasensya. Patience.
Turuan n’yo po akong magpasalamat pa nang husto sa Inyo. Turuan n’yo po ako na i-enjoy ang bawat oras at bawat araw. Sabi nga sa kanta, “ang magbigay nang ayon sa nararapat na walang hinihintay mula sa’Yo”.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
On the eve of my first day of practice
I sit here in my room. A room once shared with my one and only sister. The room of my childhood. Much has changed compared to how it was some 25 years ago. There is less clutter. None of the countless pillows that our beds used to have.
Funny how lonely I feel being here by my lonesome, quiet self. As I sit here amidst the stillness, I realize with much amazement how big my world has grown. Whereas before I had nobody but my parents, my sister, and my school (and all the people that came with it), I now have a husband and three children. People who are now four hours away from me. People who mean the world to me.
God has been very generous. I am on the verge of the realization of a life-long dream. Tomorrow is the first day of my private practice. The anxiety, even nervousness, that I feel is real. And yet I find comfort in the white coat that now stares back at me as it hung on my bedroom door. It bears my name and the field that I’ve chosen. It bears witness to God’s generosity. Proof of how one’s dreams, once so distant and almost out-of-reach, can slowly come true.
Funny how lonely I feel being here by my lonesome, quiet self. As I sit here amidst the stillness, I realize with much amazement how big my world has grown. Whereas before I had nobody but my parents, my sister, and my school (and all the people that came with it), I now have a husband and three children. People who are now four hours away from me. People who mean the world to me.
God has been very generous. I am on the verge of the realization of a life-long dream. Tomorrow is the first day of my private practice. The anxiety, even nervousness, that I feel is real. And yet I find comfort in the white coat that now stares back at me as it hung on my bedroom door. It bears my name and the field that I’ve chosen. It bears witness to God’s generosity. Proof of how one’s dreams, once so distant and almost out-of-reach, can slowly come true.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Thanksgiving to all patients
Truth be told, I feel a considerable amount of nervousness and anxiety at the prospect of starting my private practice. That’s on Monday, if all things proceed as planned. I try now to ‘cram’ my Consultative H--------- and T--------- book into my tiny brain. I worry about having forgotten my IM.
I remind myself that I can do all things because Jesus strengthens me. He has never failed me. I tell myself that I have been preparing for this for years. I turn my thoughts to the hundreds of patients and cases that I have seen during my training. My training amounts to thousands of hours of exposure to the clinics, to diagnosis, and to answering referrals from all specialties. I think of my mentors who are truly the best of the best. (Believe it or not, I also thank God for mentors who have yelled at me during the earlier years of my training. They contributed to my fortitude and determination, no doubt). And I think of all the hematologists who have long gone before me, now pursuing each of their own paths.
I thank God for books. I thank God for my mentors. Above all, I thank God for all my patients… from my first ‘patient’ (read: cadaver) in anatomy class… to my physical therapy spinal cord-injured patients at the Philippine Orthopedic Center… to my surviving anemia/leukemia/lymphoma patients. As the song goes, “some are dead and some are living…” In my life and training, I loved most of them and, I learned from them all.
I remind myself that I can do all things because Jesus strengthens me. He has never failed me. I tell myself that I have been preparing for this for years. I turn my thoughts to the hundreds of patients and cases that I have seen during my training. My training amounts to thousands of hours of exposure to the clinics, to diagnosis, and to answering referrals from all specialties. I think of my mentors who are truly the best of the best. (Believe it or not, I also thank God for mentors who have yelled at me during the earlier years of my training. They contributed to my fortitude and determination, no doubt). And I think of all the hematologists who have long gone before me, now pursuing each of their own paths.
I thank God for books. I thank God for my mentors. Above all, I thank God for all my patients… from my first ‘patient’ (read: cadaver) in anatomy class… to my physical therapy spinal cord-injured patients at the Philippine Orthopedic Center… to my surviving anemia/leukemia/lymphoma patients. As the song goes, “some are dead and some are living…” In my life and training, I loved most of them and, I learned from them all.
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