..the wonder drug..

In a seemingly advancing gadgets in the field of medicine, there are still existing miracles, not brought about by these advances but by the very basic, readily-available wonder drug I recently proven so effective.

He breathes through the tube on his throat augmented by oxygen. He eats through the tube on his nose down to his stomach. He passes urine through the tube "down there". Both legs are attached to a mechanical massage to prevent him from developing clots on his legs. His bed is supported by an inflated mattress to prevent him from having bedsores. And turning him every two hours is a must. Every now and then, a puncture on his vein is done so he has an access to a number of antibiotics. He is continually febrile, limited to no response in stimuli, and totally dependent for activities of daily living. In short, he is in a state of coma. 

His father would stay with him from dust till dawn. When morning comes, his father would leave for work and his mother would take charge for the day. This is the shifting of his parents for how many months since he was trans-in  from ICU to our ward. 

The mother would asked us to remove the mechanical massage, pour the olive oil she bought and patiently do massage over his son's body. And this usually takes for hours. She would call every now and then, asking questions about his son's temperature, the urine output over a newly inserted catheter, the number of Doctor's visits and anything and everything she might think of asking. She would talk to him in their native tongues  though what she gets is often silence. She would never falter shedding tears as she reminisced the qualities of his son whenever I got the chance of talking with her in a language I'm struggling to familiarize myself with. The nonverbal cues, however, speaks louder of the love of a weeping mom over his unresponsive son.

With the fast-paced happening in our daily routines, the once all-over-tube-attached patient is now breathing normally without oxygen, having an eye contact with his nurses, eating through mouth, obeying simple commands, uttering words in a husky voice, and able to say his emotions through sign board made by his patient mother.

Miracles really do happen in the field of medicine with the invention of all these state-of-the-art advancements. However, there are still miracles I consider free of charge. This I guessed was what happened to our patient. Just a four-letter word, not operated by electricity or battery, readily available, and cost effective. I'm talking of the wonder drug you too is benefiting from. LOVE. You read it right. LOVE do heals.  It was the love of his mother, the love of his family that our once we afraid to lose patient came to recuperate. Though the advancements had helped in scientific ways, nothing can commensurate with what the power love brings. I can't really explain. Only the author of love can. God.

Ok, pretty nurses are a plus=)

..laughing out loud..

I should be discerning and contemplating this week since the Catholic world is celebrating the Holy Week, remembering the Passion of Christ. Since I was blessed of a 2-day rest, I spent my afternoon bonding with my flatmates over our favorite place-dining table (it takes a strong determination to say "I'm on a diet")..errr Anyhow, it is my aphorism to GET LOSE. I  decided to lose my TIME. I came to get a good conversation with my Priest friend way back in high school. The conversation began by me asking his homily and oftentimes him asking me questions. Hearty talks then would follow like how is life treating him, his regrets (I'm blatant with my questions, and he's sincere enough to answer), how he had let go of his will (tension of opposites), and of course, love (I'm still on struggle squeezing his Big Secret) but as he said, "mahaba-habang inuman yan"..haha Until we just talked anything nonsense like I'm wanting to eat "tuyo" (dried fish) and he would teased me that he will eat "danggit"..grrhhh From his "labahin" (laundry) to fabric conditioners..

Why I'm so blessed with people? I just don't really know. The secret maybe is to count more blessings and sticking to my belief that if you want to get through with people, GET LOSE.

This is a way of thanking Fr. Norbert Alvin for the good  belly laughs.I just like myself better when I'm with people like him,. Though I still insist a favor and still hearing those lines "wag makulit",haha

Thank you very much Fr. for your time and patience and patience and another patience,,=) I will always pray for a hundred folds of conviction in your chosen path. As what you've said, "Sometimes, faith is all that we have"..

I will look forward on that day I'll be on the queue for the favor I am insisting..and the "mahaba-habang inuman"..hopefully, you'll spill the beans of your Big Secret by then..:)

Fr. Norbert Alvin Cañada on hood during his Masters of Education graduation

 with flying colors!!

 

 

..the morning after..

I had so much blessings to thank God these past days. I noticed that the more I am updating my Gratitude Journal, the more blessings come my way. I am just so overwhelmed how life is treating me and my family. We are so soaked with God's providences.

There were times when I still had my "fits" of loneliness but just as the song said, "die just a little"..One night as I am lying on the sofa with my feet elevated, I stopped momentarily from reading the book on my hand. With eyes closed, I imagine myself standing back and seeing the grand scheme of mylife. I asked myself what else am I wanting, what else should I be needing. I breathe deep and exhaled. I introspected  my relationship with my family, my friends, my colleagues, my patients, the people who simply care in their special ways. I breathe deep and exhaled. I tasted the bittersweet memories of failing and winning..I realized that there were more of winnings, but that I would still welcome failing because I am more strengthened when I am on the verge of losing. I asked myself if I wanted where I am now and what I have become. I breathe deep and exhaled. 

I opened my eyes. No one sees a blessing with eyes shut. I am happy with my relationship with my family: the  conversations I had with them especially the free-flowing Iloveyou's. I am building good rapport with my friends and colleague, sharing part of my time with them over coffee or dining table, listening to their sentiments and in return, relating my own experiences..then we ended up teasing each other and thanking the times that our roads met. I am inspired by the children whom I promised myself to devote whatever I was and will be blessed of. With my eyes opened, I took a deep breathe..and smiled. I had a foretaste of the life I wanted. I am immensely blessed, and my God keeps on getting me soak in the ocean of blessings. I realized that if you want to get people, GET LOSE. Lose your time, lose your wealth, your energy (if needed), even lose yourself. Build relationships over building money. Build friendship over material things. I am energized, rejuvenated, uplifted, overwhelmed by each morning I feel so much alive..this morning, I am living..the morning after tomorrow, and the morning after..

P.S. There will still be periods of my "fits"..that is for sure..but then again, I will "die just a little"..

..Love in Silence..

I'd like to believe that I write well when the subject of my blogs is my family. I honestly don't know how to make a good intro for this entry considering that I only shared the confidentials of my life to someone whom I'd given my so much trust before. You may have noticed that oftentimes, it's only my mom I used to mention in my blogs. But as the teaser  goes "there's always a woman behind every man's success and downfalls"..There was Eve behind Adam, Megara behind Hercules, Hillary Clinton behind Bill. My twisted teaser is that "there's always a man behind every woman".

 Mine was my silent man...

I viewed the world very ideal when I was still 9 years old. I believed in its capacity to give benevolently to those who devote themselves in prayer as I religiously make the church my secondary home. My parents got married at an early age and I can say that we are not a perfect family. Their marriage was not perfect and they were not either perfect parents. My father is a silent man. He would go and went back to work with stares as his way of saying hello and goodbye. He is a man of few words. On weekdays, he would send me and  my sister to school and kissing him is something of a miracle for us to do. He would just give our "baon" and would left. on Sundays though, he would wake up early and would head to the market. He cooks so well and he would prepare sumptuous meals for us. I always look forward on Sundays. Again, he would do the entire chores silently. Conversation between father and daughter was seldom practiced at home. We were used in this routine; only the three of us since my mother was working out of the country. Still, I viewed the world as ideal.

On my 7th birthday, I remember him bringing me my first birthday cake which unfortunately happened to be the last birthday cake he ever bought me. It was just a simple square cake with a candle on it. He had not uttered the words "Happy Birthday" but the thought that he remembered my day ( I guess every father does) is worth a thousand words.

One rainy night, he arrived home with bleeding bruises on his arms. He said he was not able to control his motorbike that he slipped off the road. When he removed his raincoat, there I saw the reason of his bruises. He was holding the watermelon which was halfly cracked on a bleeding arm. He handed it over to me and calmly instructed to sliced it and put on the table. Obeying him in a melted heart while fixing my vision on his arms was something I cannot permit my memory to forget:  a man who is not so vocal ready to break his arms to bring home something for his kids.

On this very day, 16 years ago, on the same day of my bestfriend Christel's birthday, my view of the ideal world changed dramatically. On the hour of Great Mercy on a Good Friday, my father who's always been a man of silence was murdered. He was murdered in time I'm viewing the world as something less capable of inflicting pain. He was taken away in time I have accepted his ways of loving us in silence.

I had hated him whenever I think of my mother being away from us when it was supposed to be his responsibility to provide for the family as what I've learned ideally in school. I hated him whenever he would returned in his old ways which prompted my mother to seek for greener pasture for the family. But when there were only the three of us living in a routine weekdays and Sundays, I knew deep in my heart that he was trying his best to be both a mother and a father to us--in whatever silent ways he knew. He would carry my sister on his lap and not on a frequent situations, we would sleep with him--the three of us. The last conversation we had as I can still reminisce was when we were watching TV and out of nowhere he asked if it is possible that I can get an exam to be accelerated and graduate fast. Did he ever had a feeling of an impending goodbye? I was only on my 3rd grade then.

16 years ago, I was  with the man whose love was manifested in simple silent ways like taking us to school, preparing Sunday meals, or even being careful not to break a watermelon even if it meant bruising his arms.

Papa, it's been a long while since I saw you in my dreams. It's been a long while since I talked to you in times I desperately needed your presence. You were absent in all of our graduation ceremonies, missed much of our birthdays; the X-masses and Father's days that we were just contented of bringing you flowers and lighting you candles. It would have been different if you were around when someone are already sending us flowers. It would have been different now that we are expressive enough to say our feelings. Would you have beaten your silent ways if you have lived a little longer? Would there have been a long conversation between a father and a daughter? Would there be times we'll be hearing how proud you are of us? or would you ever get angry when someone broke your daughter's heart? I could guess...I could only guess.. Wherever you are right now, I know you are more at peace seeing your once 8 and 9 year old kids on a better situation. I know you are happy of what we have become, happy that we were able to surmount since the day you left without a goodbye. Ultimately, I know that those days that turned into 16 years today, you continue to love us in your silence..
We miss you, and in between those silence, we are loving you...


I guess I inherited my father's ways. I've learned to love in my silence that I was once doubted as someone not capable to give love just because of an absence of words.

But who said you cannot love someone without telling them that you do? My father.

..marry my son!..

I love pounding my keyboard when half  of the world is sleeping. Though I'm drained from today's duty, I got a big laugh from my patient  Mama--our call of endearment for our old female patients. Mama is difficult to feed because she sleeps most of the time. Moreover, it is difficult to give her oral medications. This morning although I can hear endless call bells from outside her room, I woke her up and spent sometime encouraging  her to take breakfast. She is much like a baby,.maybe brought about by old age (and undefined psychological problem). I stroked her curly unruly hair obviously not shampooed for how many days, establishing good rapport so she would feel she can trust me in caring for her. She managed to sat down with her belly almost touching her chest. Fortunately, she ate even just a little of her diabetic diet. The evening before I left and said my goodbye, I was surprised when out of nowhere she said. "marry my son!"..I simply and surprisingly laughed..Then I learned a love story behind her words..

Her son feel inlove with a Japanese girl. He loved her much that he already offered her an engagement ring, and Mama loves her much too as what her daughter relayed to me but their father , being a powerful businessman,  is strongly against the relationship. To end the story very short, lovers fell apart..and Mama's heart was broken..too. Before I left the room, I look at Mama's eyes.. "because she thought that you are the Japanese girl", her daughter said sadly..

..sleepless in Seattle..

It's been years when I started to run after my long term goal of destination--US of A. Right after the devastating and problem-giver result of June 2006 Local Board Exams, I stopped from my work to review for my first foreign exam, the CGFNS. I remember having a dilemma from pursuing a good job or going back to nursing books and of endless days and nights of  being locked up in a room with meals and bathroom breaks only. But in life as we should make priorities, I pursued taking the exam. After luckily passing it by self-reviews and well, self-imposed discipline, I took the next ladder of taking another compulsory foreign test, IELTS. My determination didn't stopped me from taking the most important exam to complete my application for States, the NCLEX exam. Again, being armed with faith and prayer as my shield, I was blessed to finished my 3 exams in a year's time..That would commensurate to a year of books and late nights made into day. So one day I said, "there, being no exams to take, the studying is now adjourned" hehe.. Another bigtime blessing was when I formally signed the much-awaited contract with my Valley Medical Center employer based on Seattle,Washington. While the contract was handed to me, the words of Paulo Coelho is reverberating on my mind  "if you really want something, the whole universe conspires in helping you achieve it"..

But the conspiracy rested for a while when retrogression sets in and many of the applicants for Immigrant Visa was temporarily limited to a quota. Worst is that there are only limited visas right now and the ones queued earlier is having a back lagged. So that means to say that my application will also be lagged for an indefinite period of time.

Lessons learned:

-God wanted me to slow down in driving my wheel of dreams, and let Him do all the driving for me..

-that there are other roads to take while waiting to arrive at the main road..

-that I should stop in a while: smell the roses, take pictures--I have lots of them=), bathe with Mr. sunshine, holler with Mr. moon and wish limitlessly with shooting stars..

-God does not want me to have sleepless nights in Seattle and so I believe that He will take me to the main road just in time..when I have my own family to bring with me=)

..It would have been then "Sleeping well in Seattle..:)

..write and burn..

My good friend Dexter has a habit. I once told him I'm so disappointed with a bad situation I don't want to involve myself and that my temper is reaching the thermometer's dead end and I could explode anytime with anger. He simply said, "write it down". To my dismay after been waiting for his conceivable answer, I just received these lines from him.."write it down".. Dexter then told me that he has this habit: when he is angry, dismayed, hurt, or even wishing for something he thinks is not plausible in real world, he would write it down. 

I often received comments that I am a mysterious person, hard to contest with what is on my mind. As what someone told me, not considering him as a possible suitor and I quote " you are a difficult woman".. Maybe because I am ( still) a private person and I enjoy my solitude most of the time. I believe that there are many forge things and people in this world, oh there are plenty of them and to be careful, I chose my friends. You can tell me anything and everything with my attentive ears listening 100% but  plainly, you can't expect me to disclose mine just like that. There are a handful of skeletons in my closet known to only few I have entrusted with and I want it there to remain indefinitely. Thank goodness God invented writing..and to add a modern juicy twist, blogging. 

I still have my secluded times when I am adapting Dexter's habit but gave it an added verb "burn". 

I write down my wishes and stick it to a place where my peripheral vision can see it more often..

I write down my blessings and read it in tedious times where I have devoid emotions..

I write when verbal words are not clear to be articulated..

I write when I have shaking grounds and nothing to find a flicker of hope..

I write when I wanted to let go..

..and so I've written his name..and burn..

..on steering the wheel..

I always love driving aimlessly on dusky afternoons where the road is spacious enough for a neophyte like me. I thought that steering the wheel is just easy as turning it to the left or to the right but not as what I thought when I was the one manipulating it myself. Since I was just new with the steer, I found it difficult to control especially on bends that I often end  up  rejumping the starter. My ever first driving along the main road on the city was when my grandmother was rushed to the hospital on early dawn. Since my uncle was so sleepy after we have gone through  lots of laboratory investigations, he handed me the steering wheel. I was nervous at first because I felt like their lives were dependent on my sweating hands and the steering wheel which happened to be a stranger to me. In addition to that, I'm driving without the official driver's license.I remember that 50km/hr was already fast enough for me and I'm so careful of not pushing the accelerator that much.. Though I can brag that we all went home safe..:) Taking the risks and keeping my eyes on the road, I noticed that the steering wheel becomes friendly after sometime . I learned that you just have to give it a little force when you want it turned to left or right and that you can't impose your own force because it was designed that way. The last time I handled the wheel, my hands are more confident even if still, I'm driving with the absence of a driver's license.

Oftentimes, we find life as tiresome because we are exerting too much effort on our own belief that we are the good driver because we are holding the steer. We are imposing our own will on the steering wheel of life neglecting that life itself was designed by a Great Driver..

Just a thought while watching our driver steering the wheel of the bus back home..