Hodgepodge

Every single day that I live, wake up, cross Taft, deal with patients and seniors, there comes a point when I stop and sort through the hell-lot-of-things that I do and wonder,   what matters? So, what does? I'm quite sure it's not poverty.  It's not the hierarchy.  Not the popularity.  Not the superficiality.  It's not even the impression I have of people and vice versa.  It's not about being the most efficient person in the team, not about being the crowd's favorite.  Not the money, not the niceness, not the awards, not the title. What I do know is, It doesn't matter if you are klutzy, or have given the worst first impression, as long as you prove to people that you are becoming better and better by the day. Don't mind people saying bad things about you.  Live with your life.  Bark..bite..fight if they stand in your way.  They don't matter. It matters to do something for people.  Making a positive difference matters. Everyone is equal.  I don't...

I like surprises, pleasant ones of course, like yesterday.  My good friend, Bunch, came to the ER to give me a gift.  For a second, I thought,  Teka, di pa naman november ngayon di ba?   But anyway, she's an advocate of giving gifts on normal days, saying it brings more happiness when you receive something on days when you don't expect anything beyond ordinary.   I understand now. See Bunch's "suprise! wala-lang-i-just-remembered-you" gift.  Sabi ko na nga bang sweet din ang tigasin kong kaibigan eh.  hehe.  Thanks bunchesita! Yes friends, her gifts are all kitchen tools.  She thinks I can use them.  You see, I do a lot more in the kitchen than eat.  I cook as well.  Dr. Chef aint a bad title eh?  Hehe.  You should try my natatakal na arroz caldo, sardinas spaghetti, tokwa asado.   And I have an avid fan who eats them all.  Dad.  No episodes of LBM so far.  

He is a sick man.  She is a loving wife.  He is blind, with an End-Stage Renal Disease.  She is sticking it out with him.  He is old.  She is old.  He is weak.  She stays strong.  He tries to fight.  She fights with him.  When you have this kind of other half, then why care when you're dying?  When somebody holds your hand when you know you almost have nothing else but yourself and your faith, you're very lucky and blessed.  

Yesternight was emotional.  My patient died. Knowing his condition, I knew he had a bad prognosis.  But in the midst of his very loving and hopeful parents, it was easy not to think that he'd be gone on that bed, during my tour of duty.  The sad part is that, his parents had made the decision to go home so he can enjoy the company of his siblings and relatives instead of hanging out in the very infection-laden ward and endure the agonizing IV insertions and blood extractions.  They were just waiting for the van that would take them back to Sariaya, Quezon. Guess the decision was a day late.  That evening, the worst happened.  His lungs gave way.  He was in respiratory distress.  The resident on duty decided that it was best to intubate the patient so we can help him breath.  His parents, seeing that their son was turning blue due to the lack of oxygen, agreed to the procedure despite the fact that they felt strongly against it. And so it happened. His mother was  holding his lower ...