it was a very good year

It took awhile (an awfully long while), but finally, I have made the big move. I have officially uprooted myself from my homeland, left first my childhood nest and then my first Aussie nest. I write this post from my third home this year, in the heart of Brisbane City, Queensland, Australia.

I admit I started this year praying desperately for this change. I didn't have a clue, not even the vaguest hint, at the start of this year that big changes are coming my way. All I felt as 2011 began was a great deal of apprehension for what seemed to be a pretty uncertain future for me, both professionally and personally. Now, almost 12 months later, I look back at the year 2011 and see it as one of my great adventures.

In a way it seemed fairy tale-like. I applied for the job without much hope; they weren't even looking for anything for my position. It was just gut feel: something in me drove me to ask if maybe they have something for someone like me. I wasn't very hopeful; after all this is just my first shot, and I've heard sometimes it takes several applications to finally bag a job.

Lo and behold, I got a call right away. I almost didn't take the call, because I normally just ignore calls from numbers unknown to me. And I wasn't expecting a reply right away, but a reply I did get the very next day. Thank heavens I answered that call...and the ball started rolling.

There were several hurdles still to take care of, but the most important one was getting that break. It was unbelievable that a total stranger had been willing to take a chance on me, and I was bracing myself for the event that this was indeed what it seemed to me: something that was too good to be true. BUT IT WAS TRUE.

So off I went, packed my bags and flew several thousands of miles, not knowing how long I'll be away from home. I crossed each bridge as I came to it, and managed to cross each one successfully. Finally, at the end of October, I reached my goal. I am still a long way from home, and I still have no idea how long it is before I get to go home again, but I am quite happy where I am now. I'm in a good place, and I know as long as I answer His call, all will be well.

I feel like the past year is something that only happens in books and movies. But I am a testament that it could happen in the real world. It happened in my real world after all. I don't quite know what I did to deserve this, but I am thankful, really really thankful to the Divine Presence above for this.

But perhaps I do have an inkling of what I did to deserve it. I don't know how close on target I am, but it's the only thing I can think of. Sometime in the year that passed, I remember surrendering to God. I think it was during one of those utterly confusing times, when everything's so uncertain and I was truly clueless which way to go. I remember sending out a heartfelt plea to God, because I was really at a loss to what I am going to do next. It was at that point that I decided to just let everything go, and asked God to do as He pleased with me. I let go, and let God. 


And am I glad I did. I can't quite explain how I knew that what I was doing was God's will for me, but there was just something that pushed me to this direction. I guess this is what they say about answering a calling. I had been called to do this, and do it I did. I believe all my successes are due to my decision to answer the call. I didn't understand it at that time, but looking back, it makes a lot of sense now. It even seems simple.


My faith has led me to do what I had been called to do. I am just so thankful I was sensitive enough to follow the signs that led me to God's path for me. The path may seem too secular and pragmatic for most, but I don't care. If this is what my life's mission is, I'm not going to fight it. I am going to live it. And I want the world to know that I am successful because I surrendered and let God take the wheel.


Lord God, I am your instrument...thy will be done.

return to upd

For the second time this month, I was transported back to the past. It's been 10 years since I graduated from college, and this spur of the moment trip to my alma mater, the University of the Philippines, sent me careening back to my years in the expansive Diliman campus.

A lot has happened in the decade that has passed. I have since then earned one more degree, started working, lived away from home (and had gone back to the nest), changed the color of my eyes and I have now taken to wearing my hair long. My friends and I kidded about not having taken lots of pictures back then...but that was the age when cameras still needed films and the most popular cellphones were Nokia 5110 -- no camera phones yet. So we took to going to the most significant parts of the campus, and took long-overdue photo ops.

We had agreed to meet up at our erstwhile home -- at the heart of the Institute of Biology, known fondly to us as IB Lobby. But as these planned things go, we ended up meeting up instead at the Casaa food court, the oasis of food and drinks for us bio majors. Outside, Cassa looks virtually the same. Inside, it was a bit different. The only remaining familiar stalls are Gloria's, Sizzler and the soda fountain. The vinyl-topped tables and plastic seats are still very much the same, though, as well as the stiffling heat and viand-aroma that envelopes the eating area. We stayed long enough to get some refreshments, then with drinks in hand, we trooped to the IB lobby.

A wave of nostalgia again hit me when we entered the now empty lobby. The familiar long tables and benches are still there, and glass-covered display cases still line the walls. The previously un-labeled specimens inside the cases are now coupled with their family, genus and species names. The guard table had been relocated to the IB steps, no longer situated beneath the wall clock in the lobby. The "house" cats were noticeably absent...had they all grown old and died without leaving a progeny? Because summer class has ended, we had the place to ourselves. I felt like a residual haunting, a ghost re-living what once was the motions in the monotony of daily life.

Soon, IB will be here no more. A new building is being constructed in the new science complex, and everything in this old structure will be relocated there. The new building and complex look promising and modern, but I hope this old one will not be bulldozed down. We had lunch at the Chocolate Kiss, somewhere we really never went to dine during our undergraduate years. It was a sumptuous meal of comfort food: bagoong rice, dinuguan, longganisa and chicken kiev. Dessert was, of course, the famous Devil's Food Cake, sans rival and blueberry cheesecake. With bellies full, we trooped to the university shopping center...to eat again. Fishballs and kwek-kwek this time.

From SC, we went to the new science complex and quickly drove around it. I couldn't help but feel envious of the students who will get to study there. It was spacious and very modern, and the different institutes of the college of science were all within walking distance of each other. It looked so modern and so foreign, but I knew it would foster a more invigorating ambience for learning.

With winds picking up and the sky turning gray, we headed to perhaps the most famous UP landmark: the Oblation. Good old Oble was still as naked as he was on the day he was born, arms stretched in unabashed freedom and chin thrust with the arrogance of a Maroon. With the clouds shielding us from the harsh afternoon sun, we had our photos with the UP icon.

As the first drops of rain fell, we retreated to our sanctuary. Outside Pavilion 4, we bumped into old professors, personalities that will forever be pillars of the institute. I doubt if they remembered me, but it was heart-warming to see their eyes light up when they realized that we were their students a decade ago. There was an unspoken joy in their aura as we recounted old college tales, and a hint of pride as they found out how well we were now doing. It was very touching how they said with the utmost sincerity that we are all part of the IB family.

It felt good to be reminded of things like this. College was certainly not all smooth-sailing for me, but seeing everything again from eyes that have aged a decade, it is definitely one of the most wonderful chapters of my life. The familiarity of everything felt oddly comforting, making me wish that as much as I want UP to move on with the times, I also want everything to stay as it is.

immortality and immeasurable wealth

I'm writing this on the eve of the Rapture, an apocalyptal prediction made by an American pastor that Christ will take His followers at twilight on the 21st of May, 2011. With a little less than 7 hours to this event, I stumbled upon Doc Ligaya's call for articles for her hosting stint on The Blog Rounds. At first I thought it was pretty straightforward, but once I started thinking about it, I realized it was like a jolt that sent my imagination into a frenzy.

If I had more of both time and gold...I'm stretching this a bit to accommodate the wildest (and more interesting) yearnings. If I'm lucky and I survive the impending apocalypse, maybe this will also serve as a sort of to-do list, just in case someday I am bestowed with immeasurable wealth or immortality, or if I'm really, really lucky, both.

IMMEASURABLE WEALTH

1. TRAVEL. First thing I'd do if I had plenty of gold to spend is to pack my bags and go to as many places as I can. Of course if I had the gold for this, I'd also be buying my own private jet to shuttle me around. Maybe I won't even have to pack, since I can buy what I need and what I want wherever. I don't have a list of places I want to go to, but anything different from what I am used to is good enough for me.

2. BOOKS. I am a bibliophile, and it's a childhood dream to have my own library. I'd buy all the books I want, support the writers I adore and preserve the books I love. I love reading, not just books, but anything that catches my fancy, blogs included. Nothing makes me feel more satisfied than reading a good novel on a rainy day with my dogs at my feet and coffee on my table.

3. DOGS. Much like having my own mega-library, another childhood dream is to own acres of land for the sole purpose of giving dogs a home where they can freely be themselves. I want to rescue dogs and puppies who are living in deplorable conditions, and have them live somewhere where they are free and well-taken cared of. I would employ a vet to make sure these dogs' stay healthy. It puzzles me that I have this much passion for dogs, and not for humans (I would only rescue dogs and not humans, not even children). Maybe I was a dog in one of my past lives.

4. GADGETS. I'm a techie, and I love having gadgets. The development of these electronics are super fast nowadays, and no way I can keep up with my lust for these "toys" unless I have immeasurable wealth. Even if my present gadget still serves its purpose, often I get the impulse to buy something newer. Kinda like having a new laptop and still wanting to get a netbook.

5. PADDOCK CLUB. A fairly recent yearning, I learned of the Paddock Club in 2010, when I watched the Formula 1 Malaysian Grand Prix. The Paddock Club is a club of F1 enthusiasts who are given exclusive passes to all the F1 races. This pass enables them to mingle with the teams on the pitlane and to get the best seats in every race track. Membership is easy: you just have to pay the membership fee each year, which amounts to just several millions of dollars. Once a member, I'd travel with the F1 circus and get to see every race LIVE.

6. DOWNLOADS. I'm a sucker for downloading music, movies and games on the internet. If I had the dough, I'd download (legally) to my heart's content. For now, I have to resort to free downloads.

7. FAMILY PAYBACK. I've been blessed to have parents and relatives who were selfless and who worked hard to help me attain my more practical dreams. One of my fervent prayers is to be able to have the wealth that will cater their every whim.

8. WORK WITHOUT PAY. I love my work, but I also have to support myself with what I earn. If and when I have my own family, I'd have to support them also with what I earn. But if I were a filthy rich doctor, I'd work pro bono, because my bank account would free me of the my need to earn for a living.

9. CHARITY. It doesn't feel right to keep all my riches to myself. I'd love to be able to give to my favorite charities, as well as to offer scholarships and grants to those who are deserving.

10. HOME. I may be away most of the time, but I want my own private nook in this world. A place where I feel totally safe, and where I can go to when the world is becoming a bit too much for me. Of course, it wouldn't hurt if this place has its own beach, pool and McMansion.

IMMORTALITY

1. READ. I never seem to have enough time for reading. I always have a book or two (or more) waiting to be read. There are blogs I wish I could follow religiously, but just never had the time to do so.

2. WRITE. When I was younger, I thought I'd be a novelist. I had written short stories, but even these took huge chunks of time to complete. In writing, I have the tendency to be a perfectionist, especially in spelling and grammar, and it would just take me years to complete a novel. Sometimes I just want to go away and do nothing but work on a story. If I didn't have an expiry date, I'd be able to do this whenever I feel that itch.

3. COMPUTER GAMES. Be it on Facebook or an actual video game, I'd love to be able to waste time just playing these games. I can get hook on a game and waste precious hours just focused on it.

4. LIVE ABROAD. I envied Liz in Eat, Pray, Love. She was able to live in different countries for several months at a time and actually got to immerse herself in the culture of those places. I'd like to experience this myself, live somewhere long enough to experience how it is in their part of the world.

5. COUCH POTATO. As much as I love reading and playing computer games, I also love watching TV. I'm a TV-series junkie, and I love watching both old and new TV series.

6. HIGHER LEARNING. I have a degree in Biology, something I wish I had the time to follow up on. I'd love to earn a Master's or PhD in biology, do field work and studies, and even teach in a university. Maybe if medicine doesn't work out for me in a decade or so, I'd go back to this field.

7. ROOTS RESEARCH. Not the plant root, but my ancestral roots. I had always been curious about my ancestry. This type of research could take a lifetime, and because my roots are not confined to the Philippines, it would also entail some, if not a lot, of traveling.

8. TOUR. I'd need not just money for this, but time as well. To quench my wanderlust, I'd travel near and far, and I want to spend enough time in each destination to be able to appreciate what that place has to offer.

9. BE LAZY. In my head, I hear Bruno Mars' Lazy Song. It would be a treat to have a lazy day or two (or more!) once in a while. Nothing is more rejuvinating than wasting time doing nothing.

10. BLOG. Oooh, if I were immortal, I promise I'd post more often. No more excuses.

Okay, now with apocalypse dawning, I think I'd better publish this. It's T minus 3 hours and 30 minutes, and if the world does end, let this be my final blog entry.

mr. big live in manila

At first, I wasn't really psyched about Mr. Big's concert in Manila. While I was a fan of the rock band way back in the early 90's, my initial reaction to finding out of their Manila outing was less than thrilling: they had to wait until they're over the hill to have a concert in the Philippines. Nevertheless, I still wanted to go.

May 10, 2011, Tuesday. My sister and I went to Araneta Coliseum, had an early dinner (a huge Taco Bell dinner, courtesy of BPI) and trooped to the gate. There was a crowd, but nothing too huge. We stayed on the sidelines, sitting on the barriers as we waited for the gates to open. It was sort of an eye opener for me: the crowd was older, no teeny bopper in sight (well, it was the same night as Justin Bieber's concert), and the people there were all old enough to be parents of the Justin Bieber fans. I realized that this was how MY generation looks like nowadays.

When we finally got in, we realized we needn't have worried about seats. The area where we are was not at all full; in fact, we could sit wherever we wanted (despite having reserved seats). Which is good, because I had been praying that I won't be seated next to a smelly man, or to a boisterous group. We chose seats that gave us a good view of the stage, and we were quite contented with our pick. A vendor came bearing blue glow-sticks, and though we knew these were way overpriced, we bought one each, to maximize the concert spirit.

The front acts came and we spent about half an hour wishing their acts were over and done with. They're not really very good, but both played rock so it was not excruciating to sit through their music.

And then came Mr. Big. The stars of the night. It was probably sometime during the opening chords of the first song, one from their Lean into it album, when I felt the Mr. Big bug bite me. I was transported back to the days when I listened to my cassette tape of their album over and over until I learned the words of their songs by heart. I remembered the first time I heard their music: To Be with You, played on the radio during a PE class in grade school, and everyone in my class had stopped to sing the song. I was reminded of how much their music was a part of my life back then, and it dawned on me that I still really do honestly love their music.

Soon we were dancing and waving our glow-sticks (thank God we bought them!) and singing our hearts out. After close to two decades, the words still came naturally to me. I really did knew them by heart! When they played my personal favorite, Green-tinted Sixties Mind, I was really high. I didn't care if I sang out of tune, or if I was making funny movements as I moved with the music, I just let it all out.

I was wrong to think that the band had lost their mojos. I was pleasantly amazed at how magical the night turned out to me. Eric Martin's voice sounded heart-breakingly familiar, and the songs were welcomed hauntings from the past, like a long-lost friend paying a long overdue surprise visit. Every word and every chord brought to the surface what I thought was long forgotten.

But because everything must end, the concert eventually did. Like lovers not wanting to leave each other, band and audience could not just separate. The band gave not one, but two encores, the first in response to the crowd and the second, only they know why. That night, everyone in the coliseum was taken back to the 90's, to the time when the king was Mr. Big, a time that never again will be. But for a few hours that night, we were magically all back to that time.

Thank you, Mr. Big, for making me realize that what the heart knows, it never forgets.

blogging for my ego

The statements on the right column of this blog, under my dog's pic, say it all. Some people blog to gain fame, some to start a movement, some to express themselves. Some to interact with a specific audience, some to unite people under a common theme, and some to earn money. Not me.

I blog for my ego. Honestly, this is what got me started. I dream of having a life that is so interesting people would want to read about it. I dream of being posthumously famous, and my blog or journal will be sought after by my future fandom. I love to believe that what I think about things matter, and verbalizing these opinions in a post fuels this belief. I matter, my thoughts matter, my life matters...which is why I have to capture it in words, my own way of immortalizing it. This is what my ego tells me every time I stoke it with a new post in this blog.

Frankly, I don't care if I have a loyal following on this blog. I'm not doing this for any audience. I do it to scratch my writer's itch. I love the feeling of satisfaction of publishing a new post, one that I usually spend a lot of time editing until it meets my "standards." I love bumping into bloggable topics, often during mundane activities, and actually finding the time to make a post about it. I love sharing my two-cents on hot issues, and knowing that once published, anyone online can stumble upon my thoughts. I love to challenge myself to write about interesting stuff, and to write about them in such a way that my words can capture the reader.

I blog to chronicle my life. I love re-living moments in my past as I read old posts. I love trying to feel back the emotions I felt then as the words I had written bring me back to that time. Like going through an old journal, I often marvel at how eloquently (at least to my standards) I managed to write about something. It's like giving my ego a pat on the back.

I blog to immortalize me. I used to think that this blog will be in the internet longer than I'll be on this earth, but recent Blogger problems made me see that this blog is only as immortal as Blogger is. If this hosting site shuts down, it takes with it my chronicles. So, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that Blogger will never, ever shut down.

So, to end this post, I repeat words easily readable if only you'd look on the right column. I believe these words succinctly tell why I blog, and I wouldn't be able to tell it any other way:

For as long as I can remember, I've dreamt and attempted to have a journal that eloquently accounts both the significant events of my life as well as my random thoughts. But life happens faster than I can chronicle it, and I usually don't have the time nor the patience to sit for hours in front of the computer to compose an entry that I deem acceptable to be published online. I've learned by maintaining this blog that I'm a sporadic blogger, and that each entry I put is an attempt to slow down life and to chronicle it the best I could.

the sabbatical

I know, I've been a sporadic blogger. I almost went too long again without posting (or maybe I did). Much has been happening, and I haven't been able to sit down and compose something I deem worthy of publishing. Much like the journals I tried to keep, this has had close encounters with death. Now, before it dies (again), I'm attempting to make up for the seven months I've been silent. Resuscitate before it totally codes again.

Glad to say though, that my silence is equated with many things happening in my life. I don't have as much free time to "waste" chronicling my thoughts because life is happening. Since I last posted in August, I've been in two cities abroad, have successfully conquered another major test, stepped out of my comfort zone by finally leaving a job that's made me stagnate, and now I may have found myself aboard the train towards my dreams. I hadn't planned for any of it, I sort of got sucked into the plan, which I like to think is God's plan for me.

So...let's start from where I left off. My last post was in August of 2010. A good seven months ago, more than half a year. In September, I left the motherland for the land down under. Together with my sister and other international medical graduates, I attended a bridging course in preparation for the first of 2 licensure exams. It turned out to be a 6-week boot camp, with us reporting in at 8 AM and getting dismissed at 8 or even 9 PM, seven days a week. And it was WINTER. My first experience of winter. It wasn't a harsh winter, no snow in fact, but having lived all my life in a place of perpetual summer, it was a big change for me. For the first time, I donned a winter coat and gloves, and I was wearing up to 4 layers of clothes inside. My sister and I became experts in public transportation, having no one but ourselves to rely on in getting to where we needed to go.

The course itself was a boot camp for my brain. I've always had the attention span of a goldfish, and it was hard for me to sit through lectures for more than 3 hours. But not in this course. We had to do this for 12 hours, with just a 15 to 30 minute lunch break, and an occasional 10-minute break in between tutors. I'll write more about this in a separate post.

After the course, it was back to more familiar grounds for us: Sydney. We've been to Sydney many years before, and still remember most of the trip. We flew from Melbourne to Sydney, where our aunt was waiting for us. We had about 1 month before we sit for the exams, so we had to review and study and prepare ourselves the best we can with this time. Again, I became my worst enemy. It really takes me awhile to get started and to stay focused. It didn't help that I knew the exam was still a month away, I felt I have plenty of time to accomplish everything on time. Fortunately, several factors forced me to sit down and study for several hours a day: limited internet access, uninteresting daytime tv shows, my sister not talking to me because she herself was studying, and eventually, just the thought that failure is not an option were suffice to get me to hit the books. The exam was probably 2 weeks away when I really realized I must pass this. Too much time, too much money and too much energy has been invested in this. It was pass or fail, and failure was simply not an option.

So, for much of my remaining time in Australia, I was studying during the weekdays and during weekends, we morphed back in tourist mode. The weekend trips around Sydney were welcome breaks, and we were able to revisit the places that have made quite an impression on me way back: the opera house, Queen Victoria Building, Darling Harbour, the Three Sisters, Manly and Bondi Beaches, Westfield Parramatta and the small park near Tita's flat. And all that fish and chips!

November 20 came all too soon. For the first time ever, I took an exam in front of a computer. The exam took all afternoon, and it was draining. I couldn't remember much of the questions after finishing it, because everything was swimming in my head. I wasn't very confident about my performance because nothing looked familiar. I just prayed that I tackled the questions the way we were coached to do so. I relied very much on my instincts, and I hoped it didn't fail me. My sister and I were quiet on the train ride home, I was feeling shell-shocked and I couldn't tell from her demeanor what she was feeling.

We had about a week left before we had to go home. At this point, I wasn't even missing home yet (well, except for the little dog, who's picture I kept on my bedside because I was missing her everyday). It seemed that the months just flew by. It was hard packing my things, because I wanted to bring a lot of stuff home, but we were only allowed 25kg each. I had decided long before I started packing that I would be leaving some clothes and all my notes behind, because deep down, I had a feeling I'll be back soon.

It's funny how things work. The way things are going now, it does seem that there was basis for that feeling after all. I just might be heading down under again. I hope it's sooner rather than later, and I pray that this time, it's for good.

the monster's riot

For the past several hours, I found myself asking the same question over and over again: why do I love songs of the 80's and 90's? This introspection was triggered by my sister's snort when I blurted out earlier that I love listening to these songs, after hearing Wilson-Phillips on the car radio.

Wednesday is my radio day. It's the only day in the week when I prefer having the radio on instead of the TV or my iPod. This is not to plug, but I love listening to RX Monster's Riot, which goes on for the entire Wednesday. 24 hours of listening to OLD songs. By old I don't mean those oldies but goodies tracks; what they play on this station every Wednesday are songs that were popular during their day. These songs are at least 10 years old, not necessarily award winners, but they had a good share of air time around the time they were released. Most of the songs they play are tracks of the 80's and 90's, and I just love listening to these songs.

I guess my strong affinity for music from these two decades have a lot to do with what was happening to my life then. I was born on the last year of the 70's and grew up during the 80's and 90's. My formative years coincided with these decades. Music from these years were often in the background, and though hearing them do not bring specific events or memories, they do bring about a happy feeling, a sort of nostalgic feeling for the era in my life when I was most positive, so full of dreams and not the slightest bit jaded. During those years, I saw my adult life as an eagerly awaited adventure, and anything is possible.

I grew up during the 80's watching movies from betamax and vhs. As 80's movies go, these movies are about adventures and misadventures, and often the situations were too fantastic to be true. To my young mind, they left an imprint of how adult life was to be: one big adventure. I loved the soundtracks of these movies, and up to now, hearing them sparks in me some hope, reminding me that life is nothing but a big adventure.

I was a teenager during most of the 90's. I think I felt then that I'm on the brink of THE adventure and that at any moment, LIFE will start. I'd like to believe that I wasn't a typical angst-filled teenager. Though I did pretty well in high school and college, I know I wasn't the perfect student, far from it, and I had my share of misdeeds...for which I wasn't caught. Grunge and alternative rock music hit the mainstream around this time, and I found myself liking these genre. I still do, though I feel more recent tracks lack the passion of their progenitors. Nevertheless, I still love the genre. The Gin Blossoms, Alanis Morrissette, Bon Jovi and Mr. Big were some of the notable artists in this decade that have set the bar and for me, very few can measure up to their standards.

The first decade of the 2000's is ending, but I'm not as enamored to music from this decade as I am to the 80's and 90's music. Probably because for me this decade is some sort of a dark age. I've spent majority of this decade being a slave to medicine while fighting to control an inner turmoil that is best described as a quarter life crisis. It's only now that I realize that many times I've sought comfort from music that reminded me of better times. As I struggle with my inner demons, the music from my past reminds me of how sunny my outlook used to be. I strive to live my life now as close as I can to how I used to think this adventure is to be played out. Hearing music from time past reminds me of my younger self's vision of today, and because this vision had given me so much hope, I do my best to try to live it.

So, perhaps this is why I love getting my weekly fix of 80's and 90's music. Or maybe there is no other reason at all, except that I simply love music from these decades.

Disclaimer: This is not a promotional piece from the RX Monster's Riot. No profit is being made from its use in this entry.

the test

The passports have come back, and finally we can make plans. Or rather finalize plans. It's too late now for the July target, so we had to resort to plan B: September.

I should have taken this step years ago, but I was too chicken to do it. I was aware that this is inevitable, that I would really have to go through with this at one time in order for my plans to work out. I can't quite explain why I kept postponing it, except to honestly say that I was scared of taking the test. This is not like me at all, I have faced tests head on for as long as I can remember, prepared or not prepared. For some reason, I felt that the timing wasn't right, and I kept holding back.

So now, I'm ready to finally take the exam. Or maybe I just ran out of reasons for not doing so. Psyched and finally able to study (not as much as I wanted to, but then again I have never been able to prepare for any exam as much as I wanted to), I was set to take the bridging course in July and the exam on September.

Lo and behold, something (someone?) told me this wasn't to be. I'd like to think of it as divine intervention. My visa application got delayed and it was only yesterday that I finally got my visa. Now it's too late to get into the July program, so everything's moved to September.

So, it's hitting the books for me. More work. More time to prepare. Unless something else happens between now and September, it's definite that I'll be facing one of the biggest tests in my life at the last quarter of this year.

a pet's ten commandments

1. My life is likely to last 10-15 years. Any separation from you is likely to be painful.

2. Give me time to understand what you want of me.

3. Place your trust in me. It's crucial for my well-being.

4. Don't be angry with me for long and don't lock me up as punishment. You have your work, your friends, your entertainment, but I only have you.

5. Talk to me. Even if I don't understand your words, I do understand your voice when you're speaking to me.

6. Be aware that however you treat me, I will not forget it.

7. Before you hit me, before you strike me, remember that I could hurt you, and yet, I choose not to bite you.

8. Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative, ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I'm not getting the right food, I have been in the sun too long, or my heart might be getting old or weak.

9. Please take care of me when I grow old. You, too, will grow old.

10. On the ultimate difficult journey, go with me please. Never say you can't bear to watch. Don't make me face this alone. Everything is easier for me if you are there, because I love you so.

Reposted from Rico's notes.

Germany vs England [4-1] All Goals & Full Highlights World Cup 2010 Germ...

waka waka

Germany beat England in South Africa! This is the first football game I watched from start to finish. I loved it!

Admittedly, I'm not one of the millions (billions?) of football fans out there. Before cable TV, I knew football to be a game of big brutes banging their big-shoulder-padded bodies as they fight for a brown pigskin egg-shaped ball, a ball that to me looked like a giant chocolate egg candy. Apparently, my understanding of football had a lot to do with the Americanesque mind-set and culture I grew up in. When cable TV arrived, I was introduced to the football that the greater part of the world was so passionately in love with...SOCCER.

Yup, I realized soccer was football to almost everyone in the planet except for the Americans (and for people like me whose first exposure of Western culture was the American culture). I didn't know UEFA, but I knew NBA and MLB.

My first encounter with the FIFA World Cup was with the song Tubthumping (Chumbawamba) in the 1998 World Cup. I loved that song! But I was in school then, and I failed to see a single game, no thanks to the time zone difference between France and the Philippines. My passion was Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls...I remember cutting classes just to watch a live game. So the World Cup to me then was just a good song.

Last night, I wasn't intending to watch the game between Germany and England. My fascination with football had heightened a bit, but mainly because of my interest in Kaka. I still wasn't hooked in the game. I find it too slow (score-wise) and the possibility of having it end in a draw (or even worse, a scoreless draw) did not help in whetting my appetite for it. But my sister wanted to watch the game, and since there was nothing else on TV, I decided to give it another chance. I had a book with me, though, because I'm expecting to lose interest after the first couple of minutes and failed score attempts.

But, lo and behold, I got hooked. Maybe it was the sell-out crowd, but the atmosphere was too magnetizing. I didn't know anybody on the field (except Rooney, but I only hear about him because of news reports of his injuries). The first half passed quickly and I was surprised that half-time came without me noticing the minutes ticking by.

You're a good soldier
Choosing your battles
Pick yourself up
And dust yourself off
And back in the saddle

I liked the game I watched last night. I liked the way the teams appeared to be evenly matched. I liked how they exchanged ball possessions, and the game pace. I even liked how outlandish some fans were, with face paints, wigs, costumes and flags. The football game last night made the F1 race, which I watched minutes before the game, seemed like a shmooze-fest.

You're on the frontline
Everyone's watching
You know it's serious
We're getting closer
This isn't over

I think what made this particular game last night so engaging was that each player played with heart. It was a do-or-die game, and there was no way it was going to end in a draw. Only one team will advance and the other will have to wait four more years to get a second chance. One team's dreams will shatter as the other gets to continue their bid for football's greatest treasure. And so every player, English and German alike, played with all they have. It was a battle for survival, and no one was going to back down.

The pressure is on
You feel it
But you've got it all
Believe it

When you fall get up
And if you fall get up

I was almost sorry that England's World Cup dreams had ended. On the other hand, I was elated that Germany, a younger team without real superstars, is continuing on. I knew from the start that only one team will advance, but it was still bittersweet. But that's how it is in sports. There can only be one winner. Germany have won this match, but it's just another battle for the elusive cup. The war has not ended, and now they will have to face a more formidable foe. I hope I get to watch their game with Argentina. If the game is anything like last night's game, staying up until the wee hours is certainly worth it.

Listen to your god
This is our motto
Your time to shine
Don't wait in line
Y vamos por todo

People are raising
Their expectations
Go on and feed them
This is your moment
No hesitations

I am now beginning to understand the world's fascination with football. While I am still a long way from becoming a fan, now I have an inkling of why this sport is loved by so many. A game played with heart supercedes one laced with superstars. Who knows, maybe if I continue seeing more games like this, I'll be a convert by the time the 31st day rolls in.

Today's your day
I feel it
You paved the way
Believe it

If you get down
Get up
When you get down
Get up

vet reflections

For as long as I can remember, I've always loved dogs. It has never mattered to me if the dog is pedigreed or not, nor am I particular about their personalities. I just love dogs.

I have gone through the vicious cycle many times: falling in love with the pup, adoring its positive qualities and learning to live with the negatives, comfortably co-existing with the adult dog, and the inevitable heartbreak of losing the aged dog. Time and again I've wondered why God chose to give us a bestfriend whose lifespan is at best one-fifth of ours. I still don't know the answer, and I probably never will, because often when the question begins to haunt me, a new pup will arrive and distract me from that question for the duration of its life.

Most of the time I love being the dog's human. Most of the time it's easy to be the dog's human: you just spend time together, feed and bathe the dog when needed, and in return, the dog gives you his/her undying love and loyalty. But before we reach this stage, the dog and I have to undergo the boot camp stage: potty training, establishing feeding time, instilling in the dog that he/she simply can't destroy plants in the garden and in the house, and basic obedience. This is not so hard for me now, having been a dog's human for almost 3 decades. For first timers though, it can be hell.

My friend Marose, a veterinarian, told me of her blog that gives tips to pet owners. Today I checked out her blog, and it's wonderful! It gives information but not too much information. It deals with practical solutions for the mundane problems that can lead to hair-pulling situations. The blog is a treat even for veteran dog humans like me, so it will surely be helpful for the newbie dog humans. If you'd like to check it out, click on the link at the right portion of this blog or enter this url in your browser: http://vetreflections.blogspot.com/

Understand though, that this blog does not substitute for an actual consultation with a vet. Most of the information given here are for the pet's health promotion and practical tips for easier co-existence among humans and pets. Any medical problem should still warrant a visit to the vet. If you'd like to visit Doc Marose, her contact details are on her blog.

viridian fever

What in the world is Viridian Fever? Is it a colloquial term for some other disease or is it a new illness? Before this launches another pandemic frenzy, let me clear this up.

Viridian Fever is closely associated with another kind of fever: Election Fever. You get my drift? If you know Latin, or if you have Google on your toolbar or in another window, you'll know by now what I am talking about. Viridian...is Latin for green.

So it's obvious what I am talking about. Viridian fever = Green fever. No need to panic, unless you suffer from yellow fever (literally and figuratively), orange fever, scarlet fever (again, literally and figuratively) or whatever-color-your-candidate-has-adapted fever. For fellow Greenies, my salutations, I am one of you.

To everyone, I come in peace, I will not smear my blog with any mud nor lace it with negativity. Instead, this post, the first I've written in a looooong time, will be all about the candidate I am supporting and my sentiments about it. He campaigned without mudslinging, and I will follow his example (see how his leadership is already bringing change?).

On May 2010, I am voting for G1BO TEODORO. This is no secret to all the people who know me. I wear his baller bracelet, my bag has his bag tag, the car has his sticker and the house gates are painted viridian with his stickers on the gate post. You don't have to be as smart as Gibo to figure out who I am supporting.

I am a Greenie from the start, way before the war of the colors had begun. I see in Gibo the qualities I want my president to have. I am voting for Gibo because of the man he is. He has integrity. He campaigned without besmirching anyone. When bashed, he did not stoop to the level of his detractors by flinging back skeletons from their closets. He presented to the Filipino people what he had, not what his relatives did nor what he did not have. His promises are rooted in pragmatism, and this is how I believe it should be. I believe that if we start working now, the Philippines will eventually that fabled paradise.

Besides that, as former Secretary of National Defense and a colonel in the Air Force Reserve, Gibo has the military know-how. I want my commander-in-chief to be knowledgeable in the ways of the military, because in the unfortunate event that we are plunged into war, this person will be calling the shots. With the threat of war always being ever so present in our archipelago, knowing my commander-in-chief can boodle with the military big boys makes me feel safer.

That Gibo is smart is not a secret, nor is it something still to be proven. Same with his being eloquent, and not just in the lingua franca or the vernacular, but also in other dialects. He is not one to utter a tactless comment, regardless of how emotional he is. He possesses the charm of a diplomat, and couple that with his commanding presence, I will be proud to have him represent the Philippines in the international setting.

Gibo is ready to serve, to the best of his capabilities. His actions say so. Recall the time when disaster struck Leyte and there was a scramble to mobilize the troops and bring the relief goods and supplies to the area. The call for help reached Gibo Teodoro's ears and it was a call not left unheeded. Although still mourning for his father, Gibo left the wake and went on to pilot a plane bringing supplies to the disaster area.

Gibo Teodoro is the best man to lead us. The best man in a long time. For as long as I can remember, we haven't had a person of his caliber run for public office. By voting for him, I am actually voting for me, for the entire Philippines. If someone else gets elected president, we can say Gibo is the loser in the elections. Technically. But in the bigger scheme of things, it will be the Philippines, us, who will be the biggest losers. So forgive me if I try to infect you with Viridian Fever.

This entry is a contribution to the Blog Rounds v.2 May 8, 2010 Edition: Election Fever, hosted by Joey M.D.

the real world a.k.a. life after med school

The memory is still fresh on my mind. You can't quite describe the feeling, you have to have gone through the experience to understand what I'm trying to describe. It's the feeling of being FREE, a dizzying mixture of ecstasy, excitement, hopefulness, relief and panic.

Ecstasy. Excitement. Hopefulness. Relief. Panic. Five words I'm using to attempt to verbalize the feeling of freedom I felt after I passed the medical boards. For me, that was the point in my life when formal education ended and real life began.

It was surreal at first. The first thing I realized was that I actually have full control of how to spend my time. After 2 years wherein days have been renamed pre-duty, duty and from-duty, I now have Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday once again. I can go to bed as early or as late as I want to and don't have to count the number of hours I have left to sleep before getting up again. I am FREE.

Now, once you have fully grasped the idea that you are free, your conscience will start making its presence felt. For me, this took about a month. After all the parties, the oath-taking and the days spent doing nothing, I began to feel uneasy. I was itching to be productive. I know I have to be. After all, I now have a shiny new license to use.

I know I wasn't ready to embark into another training odyssey, there are still so many things I wanted to do. But I HAD to do something productive. If I go into residency, I'll be kissing at least 3 years of my life away...it'll be back to pre-duty, duty and from-duty days again. No holidays, no weekends, just those three freaking days. I am not ready to go back to that...yet.

So I decided to go into moonlighting. This way, I still can choose how many times a week to go to work. I am being productive and still having control of my time. Another plus is that for the first time in my life, I am earning my own money. Cash I can spend however I want to. By moonlighting, I get to hone my clinical skills and tick off things from my bucket list at the same time. Now I have the means to do the things I've put on hold while I was busy training.

I don't have any regrets for choosing to go into moonlighting. While it's true that by moonlighting you are putting your career on a stand-still, a good thing is you are somehow introduced to medicine in the real world. You will realize that you don't actually use every drug in Katzung or MIMS, and that you only encounter a handful of diseases. Rare diseases are really rare. You will learn how to do a complete physical examination in seconds. You will learn how to think outside the box.

All these and at the same time you get to create for yourself a life. Travel. Spend time with the loved ones you have neglected or missed during med school or training. Get back into shape. Catch up with movies and TV shows you've missed. Re-connect with yourself.

In time though, you will feel the need to advance your career. I've been feeling it lately, probably because my med school classmates who went straight into residency are now close to finishing their training. Perhaps somewhere in our training, a desire to do more and to learn more had been inculcated in us such that we'll always seek for new challenges and knowledge. After sometime, private practice will lose its novelty to you and you'll know that it's time to get back into training. I just hope that by the time this thirst makes itself known to you, you have done most, if not all, of the things you neglected doing while you were in med school. You may be too old, or simply be too late, to do this after quenching your thirst.

Enjoy your youth and freedom, new doctors! Do the things you've always wished you were doing while you were stuck in training. Don't be in such a hurry to advance your careers, residency and fellowship will always be there and they have no age limitations. In the real world anyway, patients will always prefer an older doctor.


This entry is a contribution to The Blog Rounds March 2009 Edition: Letter to a (Medical) Graduate

exodus, part 2

It's never been a secret among my relatives and peers that I have my eyes trained to the greener pastures of developed countries. My mind's made up and at the moment, I am exhausting all avenues to be able fly out of the motherland and practice my craft in foreign lands. My reasons for this may be selfish, but unfortunately, my love for my family overrides my love for my country.

In a previous post on this blog, entitled Exodus, I have elaborated my reasons for this decision. Composed several years ago, Exodus still holds true for me. My sentiments then have not changed. Not a bit.

I am deeply saddened and outraged by the government's House Bill 4580. To say that I am surprised by the UP College of Medicine's move to require their graduates to serve the country for several years before being allowed to go abroad is an understatement. I am SHOCKED. HORRIFIED.

I am not an expert on human rights or related laws but there has to be a breach of this in the government's decision to pass this house bill. UP used to be a staunch protector of these rights and freedom. My alma mater has let me down by devising this return service mechanism.

I still do plan to return after a stint abroad. But my conviction in doing so is being rattled by these ridiculous attempts to keep doctors in the country. Pandora's box shutting close might just be enough turbulence to completely rid me of this conviction.

I end this entry by repeating a quote from Fr. Bienvenido Nebres, SJ:
"If you have a heart that cares for your native land, you will find a way to make a difference even if you are far away. And, perhaps, on the other hand, if you do not have a heart, you will not make a difference even if you stay."


This entry is a contribution to the Blog Rounds 17th ed., hosted by Bone MD.

facebook

It's amazing how a bunch of simple games and applications could start an addiction. That's how my facebook story began. I was hesitant at first because I thought facebook was just another version of friendster or multiply. My friend told me with a vehement "No!" that facebook is different, it's more interactive.

So I opened the account just to see how much more interactive facebook is. My first impression was that the homepage looked boring. Nothing flashy, it reminded me actually of MS Word. I figured I'd give it a couple of weeks to see how much work maintaining the account requires, then if I am still bored with it or find it too tedious, I'd simply delete the account.

I began adding friends, then friends sent me application requests, which I then accepted. Soon I was super-pokin', creating a lil' green patch, going on high-seas adventures, taking care of virtual puppies, playing in a virtual stock market (where I am now a billionaire), driving virtual cars and flying virtual airplanes. I now have a street named after me where my friends can park their virtual cars, and I am the mayor to a city whose citizens are being added daily by my friends. Time just flies when I log into facebook.

This morning, the first thing that came into my mind upon waking up was that I need to repark my cars because I might get a ticket for illegally parking them.
From my bed, I went straight to the computer and logged in. I haven't moved since, and it's a few minutes past noon now. I predict I'll spend the rest of the afternoon stalking the pack rat markets.

They say the first thing to do in getting rid of an addiction is admitting it. It's been fun with facebook, but now it's interfering with my productivity. So here it goes...I'm a facebook addict. Now that I've said it, I've done the first step. That will do for now. Meantime, I gotta go check my cars, puppies, stocks and pack in facebook.

er

Why did you become a doctor?

The question was asked, answered, asked again, answered again. I doubt if I'll ever stop coming across this question. Other versions would be the question in the vernacular and the question in the future tense (which I encountered in pre-med and in med school), and frankly, I don't remember what answer I gave each time the question was fielded to me. I don't remember because I know I haven't been truthful in answering that question.

The root of my untruthfulness in this matter is this: my reason for choosing to be a doctor is really so trivial. Or maybe I should say TV-ial. Probably for the first time ever, I'm going to come out and say what really pushed me to be a doctor:

Not the emergency room, no life changing experiences in some emergency room, but the award-winning series ER, starring Anthony Edwards, George Clooney, Noah Wiley and Eriq LaSalle. I was at a very impressionable age when ER was at the height of its popularity. The drama, the action, the challenges, the characters...I don't know what it was with this show that propelled me to make one of the most important decisions in my life based on a TV show. I didn't know it then, but now I can honestly say I became a doctor because of ER.

I'd like to think of myself as a critical viewer, and even then I knew how deceptive TV and movies are. So to base my career choice on a TV show is really ludicrous. But I know in heart that the show was responsible for my being a doctor.

Back then I have no idea how close to or far from reality ER was. I can't even pinpoint what it was in ER that made it so influential to me...after all, the show portrayed over-worked and underpaid doctors, dealing with self-destructing patients, health catastrophes and disdainful hospital politics. Doctors are not intellectual gods (like House and associates) nor glamorous beings (like Chicago Hope docs and Nip/Tuck surgeons). As I think about it now, I do believe ER probably is as close as medical movies and TV shows get to the real thing.

Or maybe I'm being biased. I most probably am. After all, I had my epiphany during the golden years of ER, and amazingly, I do not regret this decision. Maybe in my darkest hours I have had second thoughts about it, but eventually, I'll come back to the same conclusion. This is my calling, and I'll have to thank ER for God's vehicle of getting this message to me.


This entry is a contribution to the Blog Rounds 14th Ed., hosted by Em Dy.

word nerd

Blog. Blogging. Blogger. To the uninitiated, these words are simply funny sounding. At first, I thought that these terms sounded so silly that no one can possibly get anything more than a few laughs from their content. Who would've thought that one could stumble into a fount of great ideas from something with such a funny label.

I had always been enamored with words, that is, the written word. To borrow David Cook's term, I guess you could say I'm a word nerd. I just love playing with words and getting what I feel and think on paper. When this all began, I don't know. I have this secret dream (well, now it won't be a secret anymore) of having a best-seller published and winning literary awards for it.

Writing has always been an outlet for me. I have journals that could document the development of my handwriting from a school kid's scrawl to the doctor's chicken-scratch penmanship that I now have (unfortunately, in some cases, my handwriting when I was younger is actually a bit more legible than the present). I wrote in these journals for a release, and because secretly, I also hoped that someday, I'd be someone important enough for people to want to know how I lived. Such Narcissistic delusion of grandeur actually led me to start my first blog.

Now, i don't pretty much care if people read my blogs or not. My views about blogging have changed somewhat. I have come to realize that through blogging (as I have stated in my blog's description), I am attempting to make life move slower for me. My blog entries are attempts to preserve the "now." It's not that I don't want to move forward; it's just that I'm finding life's pace to be a bit too fast. Blogging can capture for me what photographs cannot; I guess you could say that my blog entries are snapshots of my thoughts and memories, painstakingly converted into text that tries to convey them as eloquently as I could.

A couple of weeks back, a friend introduced me to a blogging world I haven't discovered yet: the world of physician bloggers. As I hopped from one blog to another, I was surprised to find that these blogs hold unique treasures unselfishly shared by their writers. I found solace in the array of blogs, written by physicians who are undoubtedly very different from myself, but kindreds nevertheless in this path we all chose to traverse. The anonymity allows for a more open sharing, and yet, all these inputs from doctors I don't know are amazingly very comforting and empowering.

Now, I try to take part as often as I could in the Blog Rounds. Again, the Narcissistic part of me eggs me contribute because fellow MDs might like reading what I was writing. However, I think I'm doing this mainly because composing an entry helps me collect my thoughts and somehow by putting these into words, some sort of order is established in my mind. I like the feeling of satisfaction after completing an entry and clicking the publish post button.

To end, I still think the best thing about posting is that I get to play with words.



This entry is a contribution to the Blog Rounds 13th Ed., hosted by Bone MD.

he had me at hello

I think it was when he sang Bryan Adams' Everything I do, I do it for you that I first noticed David Cook. I've always rooted for the rockers in the competition, but with their not so good record on the show, I thought then that the best that I could hope for is for him to give us a couple of good performances and hope he'll be given a record deal like Chris Daughtry. I was resigned to the reality that while AI showcases some really talented rockers, America doesn't really vote for rockers.

When he sang Lionel Richie's Hello, I was hooked. Hooked on Cook. I began downloading his performances and I would listen to them over and over. The first time I heard the Beatles' Eleanor Rigby was when David Cook sang it, and I actually liked it. Loved Billie Jean and Always be my baby (which I didn't like when Mariah released it). The Phantom of the Opera fan that I am, I was mesmerized by The Music of the Night.


I'm glad I was proven wrong. I would rank David Cook as one of the three most talented American Idol winners, along with Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood. Chris Daughtry is still my favorite AI contestant, especially since he followed his Idol exit with a superb album, but Cook fast rising up to his rank.

Congratulations to the new American Idol David Cook!

a sick system

The Philippine Health Care system is very easy to understand: if you have money, you can get treated. If you don't, sorry. Plain and simple, harsh but true, in the Philippines, a sick person can get well only if he/she has the money to buy the medicines he/she needs. That's just the way it is.

Government hospitals exist, but these hospitals can only do so much with the meager budget given to them. Health care workers are already overworked and underpaid, yet very little money is left for the maintenance of the facilities and equipment. Because of this, government hospitals can only provide service and facilities for the people; the patients have to buy their medicines and other medical supplies they'll be needing. Basically, a patient gets diagnosed in a government institution, and after that, it's up to the patient to acquire the funds to buy his medicines.

In private institutions, the patient will have to pay for everything: hospital room, medicines, diagnostics, professional fees of the doctors who treat them. Because private hospitals are forbidden by law to ask for a deposit upon admitting a patient, problems arise when the patient fails to hold his end of the bargain: pay the hospital bill. The patient gets well, and because it's forbidden (another stupid law) to detain patients because they cannot pay, he gets discharged, leaving the hospital and the doctors only his word that he'll be back with the payment. Meanwhile, where will the hospital get the money to pay for the medicines and medical supplies that the patient had used? Where will the doctor get the money to sustain his and his family's needs? The answer to both of these is the same: from other patients. Both the hospital and the doctor will now charge their other patients more.

This is how it is in the health care profession. It's sad that lawmakers are making it even harder for us by making stupid laws. The only real solution I can think of is to increase the budget for health. That way, government hospitals can do more for more needy people, and sick people won't have to resort to unethical means to get treatment.

For now, we'll have to live with what we have. Save for the rainy days, and do what we can to prevent getting sick. This is just about all we can do, really.