Exorcising My Ex

Exorcise. [verb]

1 to force an evil spirit to leave a person or place by using prayers or magic.
2 to remove the bad effects of a frightening or upsetting event.

If only there were ways to exorcise an ex- girlfriend.



I'm not talking about my latest ex. I already have a rather lengthy post about her--- although I could use some magic to remove her bad effects, too. This time, I'm talking about my ex ex. My ex girlfriend before the last one. That ended years ago, yet I can still feel her ill effects. The fact the she still makes her presence felt makes those ill effects linger even more.

We were members of the same religious organization--- that was how we got to know each other. I expressed my desire to court her, which didn't really last long. After a few days, shw became my girlfriend. Which didn't last long either. On the second month of our relationship, I found out she was two timing me. One of my friends, who was organizing a fashion show in college told me about it. When she was asking several people to recommend several models, a girl from another college told her she should ask my ex's boyfriend. Naturally, my friend thought it was me she was pertaining to, so she said she already asked me and I already said No. But the girl was puzzled, and told my friend that she was not pertaining to me, but to some guy in med school. When I found out about this, I immediately confronted her. In an instant, everything became clear. She was the one who scheduled are dates, so our dates wouldn't be conflicting with her duty schedule at the hospital. I was gullible enough to believe her. Apparently, she was scheduling our dates so as not to create conflict with her dates with the other guy. I went to her dorm, but she was not there. Her dorm mate said she was at a bar, organizing an event for their organization. I tried calling her, but she won't answer. She just sent a text message saying she was busy and that she'll call me later. I kept calling her, and still she won't answer. I sent her a text message saying I know she's two timing me and that it was all over between us. Then she called me. At first she denied it, but when I told her several facts I've learned, it made her impossible to deny, so she eventually admitted it. I asked her what made her do it. Did I do something wrong? Were there things that I should've done, but didn't do? She said no. She said i was almost perfect. Her excuse was lame. She said she was being courted by two heartthrobs [sic], and that made it impossible for her to choose, so she chose both. Simple as that. It was that fuck*n' simple. The other guy also became her boyfriend 4 days after I became her boyfriend. She said sorry, but I didn't want to speak to her ever again. Call it a double standard, but I think it's absolutely unforgivable when it's the girl who does the two timing. I just think girls are naturally monogamous, with all the value they give relationships and less on the physical and sexual stuff... and I think it would take an unnaturally, incredibly lustful woman to yearn for more than one relationship. Every day I kept on receiving multiple text messages, multiple calls, saying she's sorry and that she's realized her mistake and she wants me back. She'll immediately break up with the guy once I take her back. I never thought she was sincere. If she was sincere, wouldn't she break up with the guy first before asking me to take her back. WTF! she's keeping the guy as a security blanket! what was he, some form of insurance, In case we don't get back together? The fact that she seemed to be using another guy made me detest her even more. And the guy seemed to think I was trying to steal his girlfriend, he wasn't aware that the girl fooled us both. I don't know what stories she was telling him. I never replied to her text messages, which made her even more pathetic. She also seemed to tell her friends a different version of what really happened, like she was a victim, or I hurt her, that I broke up with her for no reason. It seemed that those friends also didn't know she was two timing me, based from the hate text messages her friends have been texting me. "how can you do that to her? she loves you so much, you pr*ck, you assh*le!"

Here are some text messages from her that for some reason I've managed not to delete from my phone. I've been receiving text mesages from her everyday with basically the same content.

09-29-03. Hi! Good morning! You just crossed my mind... because I'm missing you. Hope you're doing fine. Sorry but I can't help but think of you, memories of you always cross my mind. i guess you're already asleep now, I just wish you'll have the sweetest dreams tonight.

01-13-04. Hi! how are you? Do you have a gf already? i'm really desperate in winning you back. I told you before I won't be able to get over my feelings for you and I'm telling you now I still can't. Pls text back.

01-09-05. I thought you can go out even if you're on duty. I'm visiting a friend who works at the same hospital you're in. Can't you spare a minute for me? I have no boyfriend now. You know who I really love.

Eventually, she broke up with the guy almost two years ago. That's when she sent the last text message. I didn't believe her then, because several times she has sent me messages saying they broke up already, only for me to find out they're still together. She must think I'm stupid or something. I didn't really care anyway. It has been 5 years! i was way over her! I admit I was tempted to get back together with her less than a year after we broke up. But it has been 5 long years! I've moved on a long, long time ago! i wondered why can't she? Does she really love me that much, with the way she keeps on wanting to get back together after all these years? Maybe it's all just an illusion of love. Or maybe because our relationship was short lived, there were still many things she would've wanted to happen between us? Or maybe she simply feels guilty because of what she did. Her conscience won't stop bothering her, and being persistent is her way of making ammends. It doesn't really matter anyway. Maybe she does still love me (though with the way she's acting, obssession would be a better term). but I don't love her anymore... what she wants can't happen. No relationship can happen if the love is one-sided.

The text messages changed though--- a few months after I told her I had a girlfriend already. Miraculously, it seemed that she only wanted to be friends, it seemed that she has accepted the fact that we can no longer get back together. Looking back, it may have been just one of her tactics. i thought we can finally be plain friends, so I made the mistake of asking a favor from her-- I asked her to buy a book for me, because the seller was in PGH, where she also worked. When i met her to get the book and pay for it, it seemed like we were really just friends, nothing more. She introduced me to her co-nurses as her ex- boyfriend. She still sent text messages after that, though less frequently.

Then i had my internship in PGH. She started acting weird again--- probably fueled by the fact that i told her my ex and I broke up because of the letter she gave me. She kept bringing me food when I'm on duty, whcih is something a girlfriend does. The the text messages became weird again.

06-18-05. hey, tell me. Am I getting annoying again? I really can't stop myself from texting you. I've turned you off so many times in this lifetime, even leveled myself to lowly creatures just so I can express myself to you. I can't imagine you've considered me the most irritating person you've known. But I can't help it. I just waned to be heard! I just want you to recognize my existence!SOrry if I didn't keep my promise to stay away from you and not bother you anymore. i'm not asking for too much, just your patience to tolerate my impulsiveness at times. I'm really sorry. I'll try my best to control myself when it comes to you. THanks for understanding. Goodnight!

er--- I saw hints of psychotic behavior there. But I still continued replying to her text messages, and I greeted her everytime we passed by each other, because she never directly said she wanted to get back together like she did before. Maybe she was just being extra friendly and I was misinterpreting her actions. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions... Then September of last year, she told me she was going to the states because her application for work at a hospital in California was accepted. I though--- finally! if the distance can't make her get over me, I don't know what will!

Apparently, the distance can't cure whatever is ailing her. Even if it was expensive, she still sent a lot of text messages. She still called me long distance, just to say hi, and that she was lonely. Then out of the blue...

03-13-06. By the way, I know this will sound crazy to you, but If i propose to you right now, will you accept it? Please do! You're the man I know I'll marry. Please give it a thought. Yup, I'm crazy, and I'm been this way ever since when it comes to you.

She got one thing right. She is crazy!!! what was she thinking? we don't even know each other well enough, and she's asking me to marry her?! Since then, i ignored her calls, I ignored her text messages and emails. If my ignoring her doesn't wake her up from her delusions, nothing will... and it seemed that nothing will. The calls became more persistent. then she eventually got tired.

When I was having my pre-residency, she sent me a message that she was back in the country for vacation. I ignored her text messages. Apparently, she still had a lot of friends in PGH because she did work there for more than 3 years. Strangers have been hounding me, asking me if I changed my number, that their friend wants to contact me, asking why I'm ignoring her... it's so hard to deal with all those questions form people you don't know! Then on my last week, I did bump into her. Good thing i was busy running errands, that we didn't have a chance to talk. She kept sending text messages, the last one I received on my last night on duty. She was asking to have coffee with me because she's going back to the states on the next day. What exactly did she expect to happen? That I would leave my post just to have coffee with her? She knows I can't leave my post in the hospital while I'm on duty even if I wanted to. And of course, I did not want to. that was the last i heard from her, and I'm sure it won't be the last. I'm beginning to think of her as Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. Just last night, I felt her presence again. One of her friends in PGH was on duty with one of the clerks i've worked with, and apparently that friend of hers has been telling people stuff about me. I haven't had a chance to talk to the clerk, but the one thing I've learned was that this friend of my ex told her that she knows me because I courted her friend, but she turned me down and she never became my girlfriend. geez. who knows what other lies she has been spouting. I can't really blame that friend of hers. My ex has told distorted versions of what really happened to her classmates and friends 5 years ago. SHe must still be telling distorted versions of reality to her friends now. Sometimes i wonder if women are really prone to manipulate reality to suit their needs, if they're prone to making variations of what actually happened just to make themselves look good, or to make them look like victims. Then again, maybe I'm simply a magnet for women who manipulate reality to their own liking... I'm just prone to having relationships with such liars. That's how unlucky I am.

If only there was a prayer or some form of magic to keep her away, and to remove her upsetting effects. If only it was that easy.

Maybe i should face the fact that i'm extremely unlucky when it comes to love... with two consecutive failures, maybe a lucky charm is what I need.

But with my predilection for neurotic and psychotic women --- rather than a lucky charm, exorcism seems to be of a greater necessity.

Change

Funny how a lot of things have changed in just one month.

I first noticed this yesterday, when I was walking around our neighborhood. It seems that i have been transported into another world, in another time. More than two weeks ago, there was a huge storm. I was on duty at the emergency room at that time, so i really didn't witness its intensity, but I knew it caused a lot of damages, based from news reports, and from the number of trauma patients coming in. Most of them seem to have lost their common sense momentarily, thinking it would be safe to go out, even with the strength of the wind blowing outside. I went out for a few seconds before the peak of the storm, and at that time, it was hard enough for me to keep my balance. The electricity was cut off from the hospital for two days, and several areas were flooded with water. Imagine hospital where no x-rays, no laboratory procedures can be done, yet patients kept flooding in. It looked like a disaster area. And when I came home after two days, I was really surprised to see that the ceiling in our house was non existent--- when i looked up, i could see our tin roof. SOme of the furniture were also wet. It must really be one very strong storm because our house became flooded for the first time, and the ceiling in most rooms of our house actually collapsed. For some reason, it's been two weeks and repairs have yet to be started. And when i was walking outside earlier today, it seems like our neighborhood was witness to a war. I never noticed it before because I leave our house before sunrise, and if ever I get to go home, it would be past midnight. A month ago, the whole street was filled with lush greenery. Now it looks so empty. The storm has probably swept the greenery away. A lot of trees have apparently fell down. A lot of houses were in worse states than ours. One significant event can drastically change everything--- just like that.

Even when I was driving yesterday, I felt a bit lost. In a months time, several traffic rules were changed--- and some of those changes really seem stupid. Good thing it was late at night and no cops seemed to be around--- i'd hate to be apprehended again, i'd hate to do all that pleading and begging. It's easy to get used to some changes, but it's hard to get used to changes that doesn't seem to make sense... or changes that were made to something that was better, to something that is of value to you, to something you've been used to, to something very familiar, that it now lies very close to your heart, that it becomes a part of who you are.

Like the changes that are about to happen to me in a few months time. I'll be leaving a part of me behind, I'll be leaving a life behind.

As years pass by, as I grew up, there have been a lot of changes. Before, I can choose to be carefree... these days, that does not seem to be an option, else there would be consequences. Once upon a time I can party all day and all night, now I seem to be slowly getting tired of that lifestyle. I'm growing up. I'm about to finally move completely into my adult phase, leaving my childhood self behind. It's not like I have an option... It's not something I want to do, but something I have to do, so that I won't get left behind. Change is a requirement in this path that I have taken. Before I was a TV addict... I can sit all day just watching TV. I had a lot of favorite shows. These past 2 years, I gave up that luxury, because I did not have time. I hear some friends talking about cool new shows like LOST and PRISON BREAK, shows that I would have loved to watch. Some of my favorite shows like ALIAS have ended, some like 24 are still around, but I have no idea what the storylines are these days. I used to read one novel a month... now I have novels that i bought 2 years ago but I have yet to finish. I can still watch movies occasionally, but that's another luxury that I might have to give up next year. Same with going out with friends, hanging out at bars, drinking the night away,not a care in the world--- at least for one fun-filled night. In the past, there where days when I can just lie down and daydream, days when I can just sit down and write poems and short stories, pick up my pencil, draw some sketches, or paint some portraits. Such simple pleasures have now become luxuries. These days I would rather spend my free time sleeping, a necessity which has also become a luxury. With such simple pleasures that are slowly dissipating, I seem to be moving towards an incredibly mechanical and boring life.

It would be easier if it seems that I'll be leaving something worse for something better, when it would seem that I will be leaving for greener pastures that lie ahead... but with all these doubts and apprehensions, there's a possibility that i'll be exchanging a tumultuous but a good life overall for something that's worse.

Amidst all the confusion and apprehensions, here i go again typing such gibberish.

Duped by A Trailer!

Again, I was duped by a pretty good trailer for a movie.

First of all, I really liked the remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre that was released a few years ago. I really really liked it. What the heck, I'd go as far as saying I loved it. I thought it was a cut above the multitude of slasher flicks that were continuously being released. So I was looking forward to the prequel, aptly entitled The Beginning. The trailer was also cool and intriguing, which further fueled my anticipation. Today, being my first day of freedom from the prison that was pre-residency, I just had to watch a movie! It's no big surprise that I picked The Texas Chainsaw Massacre as the movie to watch. I should've watched The Departed instead, which everyone seems to highly recommend. I just didn't find the trailer appealing, so i thought I might find the movie boring. I mean, trailers usually showcase the best parts of a movie to entice moviegoers to see them. I didn't like the trailer for The Departed, so i figured if i didn't like the so called best parts, would i enjoy the full movie? If I'm going to pick which movies to watch based on trailers, maybe I should've watched open season instead. At least I was laughing so hard when I first saw the trailer for that.

Now back to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning. What they probably meant by "the beginning" was--- this would be the beginning of the end for this franchise. The movie really sucks. There's not much fear nor suspense... just mindless blood and gore. And to think I like movies with lots of blood and gore (that's why I picked surgery for residency... joke!). Blood is good, but there has to be a good story behind it, or it should at least be a tool to create suspense. I can't even feel for any of the characters--- you don't really get to know them enough for you to develop sympathy for them. And they're so stupid, you'd think they deserved to die for such stupidity. That back story of two brothers on their way to the Vietnam war showed some promise, but that premise was quickly forgotten. Everything seems predictable too. The way they movie went along, it was almost like a carbon copy of the original movie. Very derivative. All of the villains were also present in this prequel, which would make the viewers conclude that all the protagonists are going to die anyway, so why waste time developing sympathy for them.

After having no contact with the outside world for a month, I thought I'd enjoy any movie, even one that sucked. Boy, how wrong I was. I should've listened to reviews and recommendations instead of basing my decisions on which movies to watch on movie trailers and other visual eye candies.

A Preview

My one month in hell is over. I just finished my pre-residency training, and I got accepted to the 2007 residency training program in surgery--- by default, i guess. There are 15 slots, and only 14 of us were left in the end. I was witnessing natural selection before my very eyes. The rest have already quit early on... sometimes I wonder if what they did was the better option. For one month, I've had a glimpse of the future, and it seems very grim.

I knew it would be really tiring, but I never expected it to be this tiring. And I never expected the schedule to be--- impractical. inefficient. unphysiologic. The schedule was unbelievable, I wonder if it's the same in other government hospitals. First day, we have to report by 4 AM to do our early morning rounds. We have to finish by 630 AM because the first cases for operation are scheduled at that time. 2 hours seem enough, but it's difficult if you have a lot of post-op patients, you have to inspect, clean, and dress all of their wounds. Plus, there's this constant urge to squeeze in a few more minutes of sleep at that time, so you'd want to finish before 6 AM. During work hours, we're either in the operating room, the emergency room, or in the out patient department (clinics), which could finish as late as 8 PM. We do our rounds afterward. Some services finish their team rounds in 3 hours, but for some reason I cannot understand, my team's rounds can last for 7 hours! We usually finish our rounds at 1 AM, so that leaves 3 hours to carry out orders, since we have to start our morning rounds at 4 AM.

Then there's the every 3 days duty schedule, which is apparently only true for interns and clerks. We're practically on duty every single day. Apparently, being on duty is defined as taking all emergency operative cases (like appendectomies) during that day. There are three teams, so three duty days. We just assume different posts everyday. Tehcnically, we can go home on the third day, but since our rounds finish at 1-2 AM, I only go home to eat and take a shower. There's no time to sleep since I have to be back by 4 AM. When I'm in the hospital, I have to squeeze in time to eat in between errands, I can't take a bath so I'm wearing the same clothes for days, I become aware of how much I stink, there are days when I don't even brush my teeth, and for 1 month, I only have a maximum of 2 hours of sleep a day. and that's not straight 2 hours, that accumulative. Every now and then I can sleep for 10-15 minutes at certain times during the day, and when I add those minutes, they amount to at least an hour. In my opinion, I think they should just hire more people instead of dumping such a huge work load on a few people. If I knew my surgeon hasn't been sleeping for weeks, i wouldn't go through my operation. The first year residents look like zombies, dozing off every time they get to stay still. Next year, I'm going to be like them. It gets worse when I'm actually a first year resident. They rarely get to go home. We only got to go home because we were technically not yet employees of the hospital. On paper, first year residents are off on every third day also, but they'd be on call. But with the large amount of work, they're always on call. For one year, there's practically no time to go home. Maybe just to have quick shower--- that's it. It gets easier through the years because the work load is less for seniors, but the fact remains that a senior resident is still always on call. One senior resident who already has his own family told me he hasn't seen his daughter for almost a year. Surgery Residency is a sure fire way to ruin any relationship... which a good thing if you'd want to end relationships. Another drawback for first year residents--- Since they're already employees of the hospital, the senior residents get to treat them shabbily, almost like slaves. I'll also probably run out of money because they use their own money to buy needs for patients. The seniors get mad if an operation cannot push through because of lack of needs. You'd think they'd expect that because most patients have no money at all. They should have a team fund instead of having the first year residents pay for needs. Also, those seniors insist that they are treated to meals every time a first year resident commits even a minor mistake. With all the work load they dump on first year residents, you'd think they'd be more understandable. On the other hand, when the juniors do something good, or perform a procedure successfully, the seniors insist that the poor juniors celebrate by treating their seniors to lunch. WTF?! Either way, you can't win! Sure, the salary is higher than what I would get if I worked in a private hospital, but with all that extra spending, I'd probably get to take more money home if I worked at a private hospital instead. And the work load wouldn't be as tiring.

After a lot of thinking, i guess I can actually live like that. After a month, I got used to not taking a bath, not eating much, and not sleeping at all. I've discovered a person can actually perform his daily functions even without sleep... I don't get sleepy as long as I'm doing something, and they never seem to run out of things for us to do. I just can't tolerate some of the senior residents who were acting like Gods, cursing you and shouting at you even if you're doing nothing wrong. OR they tell you to do things that are impossible to do, then get mad at you. They're obviously using their power to make fun at you. It's even more annoying when you find out they were scum during their first year and the senior residents frequently got mad at them--- they're simply doing to us what was done to them. I can live with expletives, I don't mind if they scold me if I really did something wrong. It's those "power trippers" that really test my patience. I have no problem with authority, as long as those people don't abuse their authority. If ever I'll quit, I'm going to punch those assholes in the face first before I leave the premises.

I've been thinking about which path to take for months. After a month in preresidency, the path seems clearer. Yeah, it's going to be a really bumpy road ahead, but I can take it. I know I can live like that. But questions still cloud my mind.

Is this really how I WANT to spend the next 5 years of my life?

Before Going to War

Here i go again with my weird analogies. lol. I'm not actually going to any real war.



Yesterday, we had our orientation for the pre-residency program at the PGH depatment of surgery. From 51 original applicants, there were only 23 of us left. 8 more people would be cut off for there were only 15 slots available for residency. I don't know if I'll feel sad or relieved if I won't make the final cut. hehe. I have really mixed feelings about this. Dread. Anticipation. Fear. Excitement. Apprehension.

Our schedule seemd to be lifted form hell. Everyday, we have to report by 4 AM. If ever we can go home (which would be rarely), we can go home by 9PM to 10 PM. Now imagine how we have to report back by 4 AM. I'm assigned to the trauma section for the next 2 weeks, and since we'll be on call everytime, I doubt if I would be able to go home for 2 weeks. I doubt if i'll even get much sleep. An hour a day seems optimistic. I probably won't have time to take a bath either. lol. It was especially hot at the ER yesterday--- that's where I'll be most of the time. I could melt away and die. hehe. I just hope my seniors won't expect too much. Tomorrow, I would probably feel lost.

Since the oathtaking would take up my whole day today (because I'll sleep immediately afterwards), technically, yesterday was my last free day, the day before going to war. I finally cleaned up my room... I'd hate to leave it in such a mess. I finally kept those review books that were still scattered all around. Finally picked up my white blazer--- which had an odd fit... or maybe I'm just not used to wearing one. :) Checked my mail, emailed a few friends. Paid my bills. Took a nice long bath (hehe). Got a haircut, back to short hair again. And finally, I went to the gym for one final time (at least for a month).

On the way home, I decided to take the jeepney, which always puts me in a pensive mood. Bad idea. The traffic was moving so slowly, and it was hot inside--- an environment not condusive for deep thinking. Then as if the heat wasn't enough, out of the blue, a quarrel was brewing right before my eyes. I'm not sure if there were pertinent events that happened before I rode the jeepney, but from what I observed, the 2 snooty passengers seated across from me started it. The driver merely asked them where they rode the jeepney, and where they will be dropped off. The old lady gave her answer, but with a certain intonation and an added remark, which roughly translated to "any complaints?" The driver seemed pissed off, which I thought was understandable. He said he asked them nicely, he didn't deserve such an answer. A previous passenger didn't pay him enough fare, so he's asking each passenger those questions. I didn't mind though, i thought it was standard procedure. But the old lady remarked that they wouldn't shortchange him because they had a lot of money. wow! that's one snooty old lady. The driver answered back, then the old lady's daughter (or maybe grandchild) kept saying "shut up shut up". The old lady began talking in english also. Geez, what snobbery. When conversing with a local who obviously only knows the local dialect, answering in english is the sure fire way to show that you're better than him. Typical snobbery. Voices were getting louder, almost shouting. The lady then threatened to kill the driver if he won't shut up. She was even making certain actions, taunting the driver to try and hurt her, then she would kill him. Er--- O-kay. I wanted to tell her to shut up. If they fought, there was no way she and her daughter would survive. Naturally, the driver got pissed and almost reached for the woman, but his wife, who was seated beside him, stopped him. She then pleaded with the snooty passengers to stop it, thy were the ones who started the whole thing in the first place. They still continued taunting. The driver was getting something from his pocket, which looked like a pocket knife, but his wife stopped him. This was war alright, which could turn bloody. I thought I would be exposed to trauma 2 days early! After a few minutes everyone calmed down. But when the 2 snooty passengers were about to get off, the driver suddenly pressed his foot on the acceleration, so the two of them fell. This pissed them off. The old lady shouted curses, that the driver would die tonight. Her daughter lunged at the driver pulling his hair, and slapped his wife hard on the cheeks, which was uncalled for. The wife was trying to be mediator between them, for Christ's sake! I thought it was over since the jeepney moved forward--- I thought the driver would actually go down and stab the 2 women. We were again caught in a traffic jam a few meters forward, then from the distance, I saw three policemen approaching, accompanied by the 2 pissed off former passengers. You can hear them shouting from miles away. Such ingrating high pitched voices. The policemen apprehended the driver, and wanted him to go to the nearby jail with them, so he can explain his side of the story there. I believe the driver shouldn't have pressed his foot on the acceleration just when the 2 ladies were getting off--- those ladies could have been seriously injured after all, but the way the policemen talked to the driver, it was as if he was the only guilty party. If I was the driver, after spending all day in a hot jeepney, earning so little, not even enough to live decently... and then 2 snooty passeners showed up, flamboyantly showing that they're way above me--- I would've done something worse to those bitchy ladies. And my co-passengers seemed to agree with me. From what we saw, The two ladies started it, and they continually aggravated the situation. WHat was done to them was something they did deserve. One of my co-passengers tried explaining this to the police, but apparently they were not interested. We were in the old lady's neighborhood after all, their territory. I would safely assume that they will be found innocent, they will be INNOCENT victims ... and the jeepney driver will be found guilty as charged.

I didn't get a refund--- although I was still far from home, I chose to walk instead. Added exercise would be good for me. Besides, they need the spare change I gave them more than I do. What little money I gave could mean so much.

That seems to be the order in this world. When there is peace, naturally there will be war. When there is prosperity, there will definitely be poverty. When there is love, naturally there will be hate.

Many times I have wondered... is this part of God's plan? For every good, there is something bad, for every positive, there is a corresponding negative? Why?

Why can't we all just get along?

The Rumour Mill

... it keeps on grinding and grinding, churning and churning.



Funny how almost every single person on this planet finds rumors interesting. Rumors are like sweet little concotions, inherently magnetic, impossible to resist. It's also funny how a person who always tries to keep a low profile, who minds his own business, can still fall victim to stupid rumors. Yeah, I'm talking about myself here.

I have been the subject of nasty rumors for years now, and often those rumors are just recyled, rearing their ugly heads every now and then. What rumors, you say? They say that I'm a drug addict, that I'm taking steroids, that I'm some sort of maniac, that i'm a rumor monger myself, that I'm some gay's boyfriend, that I do something nasty with gays in exchange for something, and oh yeah, let's not forget my most favorite rumor of all, that I'm gay myself.

Let's pretend that we're in court and I'm on trial on the stand--- I shall now defend myself from all those stupid allegations. That drug addict thing started when I was persistently thin, and surfaced again when I lost a lot of weight. Okay, I have tried a few prohibited types of drugs occasionally, different kinds, sporadically. But it's not like I got addicted to any of them. I took them socially... or out of curiosity. I was persistently thin back in grade school and high school because I didn't eat much when I'm in school. I used my allowance to buy videogames and videogame magazines instead. And I lost a lot of weight during clerkship and internship because of the work load! Plus I didn't get to eat much because there are times when I didn't get to eat for a day! There was no time to eat at all! Funny how fellow clerks and interns spread such rumors, it's not like they don't know how much work we are given.

When i started gaining weight in college and med school, people started assuming that I have been taking steriod. WTF?! You really can't please everyone! Whether you've lost or gained weight, those losers will talk about you! i gained weight because I started eating in school, and I ate more when I got home. Plus, I started going to the gym, more on body building exercises than cardiovascular exercises. So there.

There are some people who say I'm a sex maniac, that I'm a pervert, because I have such a filthy mouth,because I know a lot about sex, because I'm addicted to porn... First of all, just because I have a porn collection, that doesn't make me addicted to porn. I mean, is there actually a normal guy out there who doesn't have a porn collection?! I may have more porn than some guys, but that doesn't make me a maniac. I guess i do have a filthy mouth--- I got it from friends who have filty mouths. It's like some contagious disease. And I know a lot about sex because of them too--- my knowledge is a mixture of their knowledge and my knowledge, our collective experiences, so to speak. So what if I know a lot? that doesn't mean I'd go out and rape the first person I see. And it's not like I have a craving for sex. Besides, I can derive pleasure by myself, without anyone's help. That doesn't make me a pervert either. If that's the case, then all men in this planet are perverts.

There are those who say I'm a rumor monger, that it's just karma that I'm often a victim of rumors. Doesn't it follow that if I'm often a victim a rumors, i would not be spreading rumors because I know exactly how it feels to be a victim of rumors? One only needs common sense to realize that! Clearly a lot of stupid people don't even have common sense. Yeah, I know a lot of stuff about people--- because i have a lot of friends who are quite informative, and I can't help it if they keep on divulging information about other people to me. And it's not like i spread those rumors that they tell me. If it's about something that seems to be common knowledge anyway, then I'll tell the rumor if someone asks me about it. And you can ask my close friends--- if they've told me a secret, I would bury that secret deep within me, and I'll carry it to my death. I know a lot of my friend's secrets, and I have never told another soul about them. And those secrets are those deadly ones--- when they come out, those secrets would probably destroy their lives. That's why I really hate it when someone accuses me of being a gossip. I absolutely hate gossips, and i'll definitely hate myself if i turn into one of them.

I have had relationships with gays? I've had isolated sexual experiences with gays? I have close gay friends alright, and I have a very close gay friend. Hey, She's one of my best friends! That doesn't mean I've had relationship with them, nor does that mean I've had sex with them! Can't a straight guy be plain friends with a gay guy? Does it really follow that there's something sexual happening? If a guy is close with a girl, people won't assume that something sexual is involved. How come if a guy is friends with a gay guy, people jump to conclusions?! Maybe it could happen with other straight guy-gay guy friendships, but not with me. but I guess I really can't blame most people... when I see some guy with a gay guy, I initially assume the same thing. I guess it's human nature to jump to such conclusions. Of course it didn't help that some stupid faggot started spreading rumors that I was his boyfriend when we were in college. And some crazy faggot spread the same rumor in med school. Geez, what are the chances of such a thing happening twice in a lifetime?!

Something related to those rumors is the rumor that I'm a gay guy myself. I asked a few close friends about it, and they say it's not like I act gay... It's all the other rumors floating around that makes people assume. And the topic itself is interesting, so it's persistent. After all, "What rumors spread like wildfire?", they asked. For girls, if they're pregnant, and for guys, if they're gay! My friends even find it funny when they imagine me being gay. A gay guy with a very deep voice, with robotic actions, with no finesse at all, who has no fashion sense, who can live without taking a shower, who goes to strip joints, who's such a slob, with such a filthy room. Haha. Haha. Haha. only I don't find it funny. They say it's the rumors that those 2 faggots spread before, that I was their boyfriend--- a lot of gullible people actually believed them. With their very detailed stories of imagined events, who wouldn't? The second one most especially, who invented stories about our numerous sexual encounters, our first kiss, where we go on dates, how I was in bed, how my sexual organ looked like, how we broke up, and how I began stalking him and his new boyfriend afterwards. God, just thinking about it makes me sick! I really wanted to beat him to pulp back then! How can any sane person invent such stories about someone?! Those 2 fags must be lunatics! They should be caged in an asylum! Wishful thinking by crazy loons!

There are also many instances when some insecure guy would tell people that I was gay--- A common defense mechanism by ugly, good for nothing losers, for them to cope up or to focus some attention toward themselves. One of those losers is even a resident now at the department of surgery, so I won't be surprised if the rumors resurface if I decide to work there. Also, Some people who got mad at me seemed to think that it's a natural way to get back at a guy by telling people he's gay. Wow, That's really mature. Also the fact that I was often with my close gay friend back in college fueled the rumors. We watched movies, ate out, and I even took naps at her apartment at times. So what? I can do the same things with my male and female friends, and rumors won't start flowing. And i won't sacrifice our friendship just to save my reputation. My friendship with her is more important than any stranger's perception of me. It's that valuable, real friends are so hard to find. If that's how they think, then to hell with them.

My friends also say that rumors also started during the long gap between my two ex-girlfriends. I was single for almost 4 long years, and that was when people started talking. They say it's impossible for others to think that a good looking guy (sic) who seems to have everything (sic), who has so many admirers, some of whom even give blatant proposals, could actually stay single unless he's gay. What a narrow minded conclusion! I guess it's also human nature to come to such an assumption, but did it ever occur to them that I'm awfully shy when it comes to courting girls? And I didn't really like any of those admirers?! And that I didn't want to jump into another relationship because i was traumatized by the fact that my ex girlfriend was two timing me?! And when I finally found the girl I liked, she still had a boyfriend?! I'm not even counting the months when I was left hanging, waiting for a definite response from her!

I guess I can't stop people from talking... it must be human nature to talk about other people to divert attention from themselves, to distract people from seeing their own faults. Maybe it's even human nature to bring others down, to bring down people who seem better and more interesting. If only I can control people's tongues and stop them from wagging. I've learned to be indifferent, that's the only way to cope. i've learned not to care anymore. To those strangers who keep spreading rumors--- they can shoot themselves in the head for all I care. To hell with those losers. THey are nothing to me. It just hurts when people whom you call your friends, people that you trust, would participate in such rumors. Friends like those, I can live without.

To those friends who defend me from any rumor, you guys are one of God's most precious gifts to me.

To those people who call themselves my friends, yet participate in spreading rumors about me--- A BIG F*CK YOU TO ALL OF YOU. With friends like you, I have no more need for enemies. I've had enough of back stabbers.

And to those millions of people who derive pleasure from spreading rumors--- Go screw yourselves instead of prying on other people's lives. Your lives must be really pathetic to even think the lives of others are more worthy of your attention. If you stopped prying at the lives of others and instead start focusing on your own, you could start fixing your own lives, then maybe you won't be such BIG LOSERS.

I hope karma strikes, so that all of you losers would feel how it is to be victims of such rumors.

That's quite impossible though, wishful thinking on my part.

After all, who the heck would want to talk about STUPID LOSERS like yourselves?

TECHNICAL EMERGENCY !!!!

My laptop has been erratic these past few days. For the first time, the dreaded blue screen appeared last saturday--- and I used to think that blue screen was only a myth. I ignored it at first, thinking it was an isolated event. Then that damn blue screen appeared later that day again. It said "error reading from disk drive", or something to that effect. The audio also became garbled, it was a pain listening to my MP3s. Playing videos made my eyes sore. It was taking forever to load programs and documents, numerous error reports popped up! And the system hanged several times, even if I only had one program open! Christ, after going through more than 2 years of abuse, my notebook is giving up on me! Still, I was indifferent most of the time, becoming just a bit worried when those error messages showed up. Then another blue screen appeared, saying something like system failure imminent... and it advised that I back up all data because they're in danger of becoming lost. BECOMING LOST?! WTF?! That was when I pressed the panic button. Ive heard a lot of stories from friends wherein their computers suddenly crashed without warning, and they lost important documents, including treasured pictures and videos. I never thought such a thing could actually happen to me! Argh! The follies of modern technology! Stupid me! I should have recognized the urgency of the situation before it reached this stage! All signs were pointing to disaster, I should've anticipated this... I should have done those preventive measures days ago! I've put so much trust in my laptop, it never occured to me that the damn thing would give up on me in the future! Now I'm like a madman, burning all important files on CD roms, keeping my fingers crossed that my laptop won't bog down until I have finish backing up all data! As I'm creating this entry using our desktop PC, I'm praying that the stupid CD writer on my laptop won't break down--- it has been acting up for weeks, not being able to finish burning CDs, even though I've been using perfectly good CD-Rs.. I should've gotten a DVD writer years ago, then backing up all those important data would be faster.

Files from med school, all those resources that I'll probably still need in the future... those hard to find programs, some obsolete but I still find useful... all those digital pictures and videos that I keep scanning everytime I'm feeling blue or just plain bored... my collection of short stories and poems that took days to transfer from handwritten words in my old notebook, to the typewritten form... those MP3s now taking up 10 GB of space on my hard drive, that took 20-30 minutes each to download back when I was still on dial up... music videos from my favorite artists that took 3-4 hours to download back when I was still on dial up. hehe. and of course... treasured porn files, 9 gigabytes of hidden pictures and videos that I have been collecting since 1998. LOL.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed... I haven't faced an emergency situation for months, and this has really caught me off guard! My trusted laptop can't give up on me! --- at least not yet!

Hurray for eBay!

For a change, I finally have something happy to post... This is going to be a HAPPY entry! Woohoo! a complete contrast to all that doom and gloom and despair that I've been posting lately. :)



My quest in finding a copy of "The Killing Joke" has finally come to an end! after checking out dozens of different bookstores and comic book shops in different malls all over the metropolis, and still returning home in vain, I tried to do a search in eBay. There's actually one copy being sold! At a very cheap price! And the copy, although used, is allegedly in mint condition! Sweet!!! Though I was ready to purchase the item immediately, I tried to control myself... There are a lot of "Jokers" (hehe) out there after all. The item displayed on the photographs seems good as new, but what if the picture was altered? What if the item pictured was not the actual item? what if the actual item looked liked trash?! I'm a bit of an obsessive -compulsive person when it comes to purchasing items... I have to make sure that whatever it is I'm buying, they have to be in good condition. Okay, except for clothes. I rarely check clothes that i'm buying, I just want to finish the whole ordeal as soon as possible, so a lot of my clothes have minor damages. hehe.

So I contacted the seller, and he swears that the item is really in good condition, and he agreed to meet me so I can check the item personally. If I didn't like it, then I didn't have to buy it. I still had a problem: his preferred drop off points are far from my place. I told him I'm from the south, so he suggested that we meet at a place that is actually very near my house! He must have thought I lived waaaaaaaay down south! lol. The deal was getting sweeter and sweeter! I clicked the "purchase now" button. I can't afford to have anyone beat me to it. So what if I paid more by skipping the bidding process? I was willing to pay triple anyway! lol. Me and my compulsions... I'm basically a scrooge, but for certain things, I act as if I have money to burn.

Now I've just finished reading it and... I guess I got my money's worth, it's considered a classic after all. But the thing was too damn short! And what's with that ending?! It's a nice short story though... though I can't see all those symbolisms and social relevance and social commentaries that every fan seemed to be making a big deal of. I mean, what was all that fuss about? I guess i'd have to read it again, when I'm not sleepy and tired. One can't think of symbolisms when his body already wants to shut down. hehe.

Now my quest begins for a good copy of Sandman: The Kindly Ones. My rapid speed in collecting the Sandman graphic novels was abruptly halted when I couldn't find a copy of the next volume. Argh!!! I'd like to have a copy of Watchmen, too --- but I'm not talking about those ridiculously overpriced Absolute Editions. My compulsions haven't altered my senses that much. hehe.

The Sound of Her Wings

Funny how death comes to people who embrace life, and how death plays coy to people who are sick and tired of the chance at life.

Rotating at the obstetrics and gynecology department was memorable for me, because the patients I have encountered there are extra friendly, and they seem to be more comfortable with sharing their lives to others. They would talk about their dreams and ambitions, their success and failures. In the ward for trophoblastic diseases, wherein the patients have been hospitalized for months, every patient knows my name, because one of the patients there kept referring to me as her future husband, and talks about me incessantly, according to the other patients. They seem to look forward to each time I was on solo duty at the ward. All the teasing and catcalls seem to brighten up the otherwise gloomy place. I didn't mind though, I was glad to bring a little amusement into their lives, even if i wasn't actively participating in such amusement. One of the patients there was placed in the isolation room. She had choriocarcinoma with vaginal metastasis, and was bleeding profusely. She was immunocompromised, but the main reason why she was placed in isolation was because of the foul odor resulting from her disease, which was unpleasant to the other patients. The smell of decaying fish filled the small room. I didn't mind the stench though, I got used to far worse odors. Decaying flesh on a live human smells worse. Her husband and I were her sole connection to the outside world. She was just admitted the previous day. She had been doctor shopping for about a year, and she was only given the correct diagnosis when she sought consult at PGH. She was admitted and scheduled for operation, but it seemed that it was too late. If she was admitted earlier in the course of her disease, the prognosis wouldn't have been as bad. I guess she has grown weary of speaking to her husband who was always at her bedside, so she kept on talking to me every time I would check on her. She really seemed interested in my life, with questions about what I do, my life in med school, my family, my friends, my life outside the hospital... and she talked about her life, her occupation, her family, her children, and how her illness has altered their family's life. She was perenially on blood transfusion,so I have to check for reactions, and she was always bleeding, from minimal to profuse, that i have to insert a thick roll of gauze into her vagina every now and then because it was always soaked. The process was painful, I can see it in her face. But she trusted me, she knew I was doing what was needed to be done. She was confident that her operation the next day would be successful, that she would be well afterwards, good as new. She would continue her life, and there are a lot of things that she still wanted to do. I didn't have the heart to tell her about the prognosis. For the whole night, I was practically at her bedside, leaving only to monitor other patients in the ward, or if another patient needed something. After two days, I was stationed at the post anesthesia care unit, and I didn't even recognize her until I saw her name on the chart. She was a very thin woman when I was with her two nights before, and the woman bearing her same name who was comatose on the bed before me looked grossly overweight at first glance. She was bloated beyond recognition because of edema. I knew she would pass away soon... her pupils were slowly reactive, and her Glasgow Coma Scale score was consistently 3, which was the lowest GCS one can have. She died the next day. apparently, her body wasn't strong enough to withstand the stress from the operation. She had so much to live, and she desperately wants to cling on to the life that was taken from her.

I remember the patient I posted on a previous entry last May. She too transferred from doctor to doctor, and she was only diagnosed correctly in PGH. What was sad was she was seen at the OPD, and they kept sending her home instead of admitting her. She was admitted when it was too late. Her abdomen was grossly enlarged due to massive ascites, and she was very cachexic. i think she was admitted because she could hardly breath. I first encountered her in the admitting section, and she was begging me to cure her--- to save her life. She was subsequently assigned to me at the ward, and I had to assist in her operation. At that late stage, she would either die any moment from the illness or from the stress of operation, so it wouldn't hurt to try to operate on her. Before she was given anesthesia, she kept holding my hand, still begging me to cure her, telling me she has so much to live for, she had many children still depending on her. She told me that she would've stayed home if she could, but her body can no longer stand the pain. She trusted our capabilities and she believed we can save her. She kept saying those words and she seemed to be delirious already. I just stood by her side. Everytime I look into her eyes, her eyes showing desperation, as if begging for mercy, i try to fight back tears. I had so much pity for this woman. Death was very near for her. How can death come to such a person, who wants to live so much that she seemed to be begging for her life, as if her life was in our hands? A such a late stage, her life was in God's hands already. I kept thinking how those doctors assigned at the out patient department kept on sending her home, as they saw her disease progress. Why did they wait until the last minute? I kept thinking how incompetent or uncaring they were, and I was brewing with anger. 14 liters of ascites was drained, and the metastasis from her ovarian cancer was extensive. Her whole peritoneum was littered with metastasis, and so were her liver, spleen, pancreas, bladder, and intestines. There was no way she was going to live. I though she would make it, at least for a few more days because she was conversant the next day when I saw her in the post anesthesia care unit. I was wrong--- she passed away the next day.

Each day I saw a lot of other souls in the hospital like these patients, in all the other wards--- begging for dear life, yet death so stubbornly, still took it away from them.

In my life beyond the walls of the hospital, I have witnessed the work of death when a close friend of mine died 5 years ago. How I miss her. She was such good company, incredibly perky and always smiling, full of life and vigor, that she never failed to brighten up my day even when I was feeling so down. Even with so much problems, she never hated her life, saying there was so much in life that she should be happy for. Such a positive outlook was contagious. Even when she became pregnant out of wedlock, she took it in stride. Even when her family practically disowned her, she still looked at the bright side. Even with her problems with her good for nothing boyfriend, she just though of it as small bumps in the road called life. Then unexpectedly, one day, I heard she died in a car accident, not long after she gave birth. I still regret how I never came to her funeral, with the excuse that the place was too far and I had no means of transportation, that I might get lost, that I found no one to accompany me because she had a different set of friends --- God, I was such a baby back then. Giving such pathetic excuses still haunts me to this day. I didn't cry for her then, maybe because of shock and disbelief. Now i'm wondering why i'm fighting back belated tears as I remember her now. The fact that I never saw her in a casket seems comforting... it creates this illusion that my good friend is still alive somewhere, that I can still see her in the future.

On the other hand, there are people who view life as nothing, who think there's nothing to live for. When I rotated in the psychiatric department, I encountered a lot of patients who have had several suicide attempts. It's funny how death does not give her gift to those who seek it. When talking to them, they talk of hopelessness, loneliness, a life not worth living. They can't see the good things in life, they fail to see the positive things, or they just blatantly ignore the beauty of life. It can be puzzling to others how such people can exist... how such people like me can exist.

Not that I've ever actually attempted suicide, but I have been filled with suicidal thoughts a few years back. I had such trivial reasons. I wanted to die after a big fight with my family, or with my past girlfriend. I wanted to die after getting a low grade in an exam. And the most pathetic reason of all, i wanted to die just because I was late for class. Other reasons seemed to have a semblance of validity--- when I had problems that seem insurmountable, when I've done something really wrong, and my conscience kept on bothering me. I didn't talk about my problems with my friends, because i'm the type of person who chooses to keep his problems to himself. Others may think of my problems as trivial, and they would probably think of me as a lunatic when I talk about suicidal ideations. I don't think anyone knew, for I always put on a mask of happiness or indifference. I rarely showed a face of sadness and despair. I kept on thinking of ways to take my life. I thought of jumping from the roof of a building. I even thought of jumping from the roof of my house which was four stories high. The only thing that stopped me was the realization that i would probably still live, albeit with multiple fractures. I though of drowning myself in the bathroom, locking the door so it will be too late when they've found out what i have done. I though of hanging myself, but I can't find the right spot... our wooden ceiling would probably collapse, foiling my plan. I thought of using my grandfather's gun and shoot myself in the head, right through the roof of my mouth, or at the side of my temple... or use one huge, sharp kitchen knife and stab myself in the heart, because the more gory and the more bloody, the better. it would be more dramatic, it would create a lasting impact. But I eventually chickened out because I was afraid of the pain. I thought of driving my car at top speed and crashing it into a wall, but i didn't want such an expensive way of dying. Maybe I could wait at the sidewalk beside the free way, and just when a speeding bus is approaching, i would throw myself in front of it. What could be more dramatic than appearing on the news the next day? Such thoughts clouded my mind for years, and thankfully I have never made actual attempts to make such thoughts a reality. There were times when I would lock myself in a room, a nervous wreck, contemplating if I should go on with my plan, thinking about it for hours, even all night... I just lie on my bed silently contemplating. I thought there was no reason for living. Just pulling the plug was so tempting. When I was clouded with problems, it was tempting to take the easy way out. I kept hearing the sound of death's wings as she approaches, which seemed to seduce me into accepting her gift, the sound of her wings has a calming and soothing effect, promising that everything will be all right afterwards, that every pain would go away. Sometimes when I'm really ill, i would wish that she would approach me, to worsen the disease, to take my breath, and eventually take my miserable life with her. But in the end, I wasn't brave enough to accept her gift. I would drown myself in alcohol to numb the pain instead. Those poems about death that I've written somewhat served as an outlet. Thoughts of the afterlife also scare me. What if the myth of heaven and hell are true? With the way I've run my life, I would most probably suffer eternal damnation--- I'd rather delay the process by living in my own hell on earth in the meantime. If only I was sure that after death comes nothing, that everything would just go away, i would have probably pulled the plug years ago.

Maybe because i'm older now, or various added experiences have altered my perception of life... I no longer dwell on such suicidal thoughts. I've learned to see the beauty of life. There's so much to be happy about, every problem will eventually come to pass. One just needs to change his or her outlook in life, to focus on the good things and not on the bad things. i have so much to live for and be thankful for. God has given me so much, that I am better off than most. Even though there are a lot of detractors and rumor mongers floating around, I have great friends who are always there for me. I've realized that despite their many faults, I have a great family who loves me and will support me all the way. I am given everything that is needed. i know that i would cause deep sorrow to a number of people if I took my life away. It would be easier if I was really alone, maybe that's why suicide is easy for others --- If I was alone, taking my life would only affect myself, and no other people. I do not want to inflict pain to others, only to myself. Because there are times when I still hear the sound of her wings, teasing me, tempting me with her gift. i just wish my desire for her gift won't overcome the beauty that I now see in life, for despair can cloud one's vision. The sound of death's wings are ignored my others, despised by many... but the soothing sound that it makes can be hypnotizing at times, making one fall into a sweet trance. The sound can be magnetizing at certain times, at the right moment, at the right time --- at least for someone who tends to dwell in misery...

like me.

Stupefied

I just took the entrance exam for residency training in surgery at PGH this morning. I'm not getting my hopes up. The exam was hard (or maybe because I didn't prepare for it?), and I saw a lot of applicants who are more intelligent than I am. Goodbye PGH, hello hospitals wherein only mediocre physicians apply! Years ago, I would have been confident, but presently, I've lost a lot of that confidence.

Way back in high school, I was what some would call a nerd. I wasn't associated with that word initially. During my freshman and sophomore years, although I was at the top of the class, I was never called a nerd. Sure, my classmates would always come to me first for help with academic stuff, but on other aspects, I was treated as their equal. Then on my junior year, when I became part of the honor's class, the word nerd became associated with me, as if it was some sort of stigma given to people who are part of that class. My past friends and classmates bgan to treat me differently, although I was the same person. We were treated as the others. For those who don't know me personally, since they know that I'm part of the honor's class, I was a nerd--- though people close to me know that I'm far from the stereotypical image associated with that word. The image stuck as I moved up in rank, until I was part of the top ten of the whole batch. I guess that boosted my confidence, that anything acamdemic would be a piece of cake. The fact that those IQ tests given yearly show that I have a superior IQ further made me confident. High school academics, for me, was a breeze. i got accepted in all universities that I applied. I was accepted in my choice of courses for each university, and I expected that. One university even kept on calling me to tranfer to their school a month after the school year has started. That was one ego boost.

I don't practice ideal study habits, really. For as long as I can remember, I have always been a crammer. I usually study the night before an exam--- 2 nights before would be a maximum. But I guess I had no choice back in high school since we have quizzes every other day. And when the finals came, I won't really be cramming even when i study only the night before, since I have already read the topics at least once.

In college, I still had high grades during the first two years. But when i reached third year, I grew tired of it all. I began to see the course I was taking as something boring. I thought there was more to life than grades. I joined a lot of organizations, I went to a lot of parties, i drank a lot--- I seem to be living life to the fullest. I prioritized other things. The fact that a number of people thought of me as part of the "cool" group, and that I looked good made me glad. No one saw me as a nerd, i seem to have shaken off that image in this new place. Some people even though of me as stupid, but I didn't care. I thought being perceived as stupid was better than being perceived as a nerd. yeah, my grades suffered. I seem to be contented by just getting passing grades. I would always tell myself that it doesn't matter if I only have passing grades, I'm still studying at the top university in the country. There's this mentality that an average student in that university would be a top student at other schools since academics are much more difficult. I believed in that false mentality, and I succumbed to mediocrity. Still, I didn't care. The fact that cramming was not as effective hurt my grades too. In high school, I have studied the topics already before I take the finals because of all those quizzes. In college, frequently there are only final exams, so I get to read the topics only once. And with such short term memory, I forgot easily.

But my grades during the first two years pulled my average up. Especially in math... thank God fo that subject. I didn't even have to study and I can get perfect scores, while may people found it difficult. I wonder if I should have chosen that field, so I would be doing something I'm good at--- I would be proud of my work. With what i'm doing now, I seem so... mediocre.

I got accepted at all the medical schools that i applied to, except for one. It was understandable. They accept only few students at that med school, and I expected a lot of students would have higher grades than me with the way I screwed up my last two years in college. But I was still proud that my grades were high enough that I made it to the interview. I found comfort in the thought that if I only studied harder, I would surely get accepted. In the other med schools though, I was accepted with no problems. I was on the initial list of accepted applicants, not in wait lists.

The curriculum was problem based, which made me even more lax. There was so much free time--- free time that i'd rather spend doing anything else but to study.I still studied for an exam the night before, but with such a wide coverage for each exam, frequently I don't finish my readings. It's therefore amazing that I never failed an exam. I was proud of that fact, owing it to testmanship. i found solace with the thought that if I really studied, I would surely get high grades--- and I did, during those few modules that I found interesting, so I really studied. Most modules, however, were a big bore for me.

During internship, the big blow to my ego happened when I failed the oral exam on the first try, which seemed really simple that I never expected it. Then I had a really low grade during the final exam in medicine--- my score was on the bottom 10%! I never experienced getting such a low grade, even when I'm not studying! That was my first reality check. Maybe I wasn't as bright as i thought I was... or at least not as bright as before. i used to believe that I was still intelligent, i just wasn't studying enough. I believed that if I studied, I would still excel. But at times, I did study hard, but I still can't achieve what I have achieved before. It seems that with years of misuse and disuse, my brain has failed me and I have actually become stupid.

This week, I found out that I had a really low grade in the Board Exams. Yeah I know it doesn't matter what the grade is, what matters is that I passed--- but I can't help but feel a bit down. I almost failed, for crying out loud! okay, i'm exaggerating. But the fact remains that it's really a low score. Some have said that it's not a low score, but it's a low score for me because i'm not used to getting such grades. I don't care about grades of other people, I just compare my grades to myself--- my past self to be exact. Even though I was really scared before the results came out, because I found several portions very hard, and I wasn't fully prepared... i was still pretty sure that i would pass, because the final grade would be based on percentiles, and so far, with the law of averages, I would almost always manage to get an above average score. In the past, even if at times I never got to study, I never failed an exam --- maybe because I had enough stock knowledge. I have always been bound by the illusion that even without much effort, I can get higher grades than most. I could say i wasn't really prepared because I didn't really finish my readings during my review for the boards, but i know that reason won't suffice. What was really needed in answering the board exam questions is a great amount of stock knowledge. I was accepted in all the top universities in the country even if I didn't study for those entrance exams because I had a great deal of knowledge in stock. I can say the same when I took the national medical admission test. Because I had a great deal of stock knowledge, I reached the 98th percentile even if I did not study for it, and even if I didn't finish answering one portion. But with the haphazard studying I did in med school, no wonder I had limited stock knowledge now. I simply studied the night before, using short term memory for each exam, and forgetting all the knowledge afterwards. I seemed to have retained only the common concepts that were reiterated again and again so it stuck. With such limited stock knowledge, i wonder if I can be a good doctor. As of now, I seem to be very unprepared for this profession. I'm afraid to deal with patients on my own, for i would probably screw up. I'm in a profession where i'm not that good at, where I seem to be mediocre at best. At times, I wonder if I should have chosen a profession where I can use my skills in math. I may find the work boring, but I would be doing an excellent job. Now it seems even that skill has gone rusty. I find math problems difficult now, and i can't seem to recall and comprehend certain concepts, probably because of all these years of not using my skills in math. Now it seems that I'm not good at anything. Average at most, to being mediocre. What a downer.

Come to think of it, I'd rather be seen as a nerd who's uncool, than to be seen as someone who's cool but stupid. I wish I could turn back time. How wrong i was back then.

One shouldn't be ashamed when one is called a nerd--- one should take it as a compliment.

Being called a nerd is something to be proud of.

Random Lives

I was on my way home early this evening, when I decided, out of the blue, that it was time to have a haircut. I've always gone to this same barber since I was 6 years old--- except for those times when the line was so long that I'd rather have my haircut elsewhere, than to wait... or at those times when the barbershop had to relocate and I still haven't found its new location. I have always preferred to have my haircut in this particular area, rather than go to those high end barber shops. For one thing, it's very near our house. And hey, the price is dirt cheap. I'm no cheapskate, but why spend so much more on practically the same thing? But I guess the main reason is the ambience. The local color. It is a place where I can mingle with the real people... the people i don't get to interact with regularly. Those people that I hardly notice when i go on with my busy life.

You can say I grew old with my barber. He watched me grow, from a child to a young adult, and I watch him change, from a young man full of promise, full of hopes and dreams, driven by ambition... to a man who seems resigned to his fate. When before he used to be full of energy, now he seems like a man who has grown weary and tired of life. For someone that I have known for the past 20 years, it's amazing how I still see him as an acquaintance. 20 years of knowing a person--- you'd figure that I would think of him as someone who's more than an acquaintance. I don't feel a strong bond between us that would make me think of him as a friend. Just a relationship between a barber and his customer, born out of convenience and familiarity. I just got used to the routine. Sure there's the occasional small talk, wherein I've learned some of his family problems, women problems, and the usual monetary problems. I mean, how far can a barber's salary actually go? He seems to have a bit of pride, also. Each time the barber shop changes locations, he speaks as if he owns the place. I wonder why he can't tell me the truth... the truth is evident, after all. With his questions, he got to know a few details about me. Where I went to school, that I eventually went to a public university, and subsequently went to med school... but for the past few months, he has been asking fewer questions, sometimes he doesn't even speak at all, as if in some deep thought. To him, I seem to be perennially in Med school, and I don't really think I should tell him I'm officially a doctor already. I can somehow see how he's feeling through those sad eyes, but I don't really think it would be proper for me to ask him what the matter was. It may be a private matter and I may seem to be prying--- he might not think of me as a friend after all. He might not be comfortable pouring out his problems to a simple customer. THis evening, he was again quiet, and I somehow prefer it that way. I was tired, and I preferred it to be strictly business this evening. But when I heard some of the conversations inside the barber shop, I seemed to have put on my invisibility cloak again, and observed the strangers around me.

There was this woman sitting on a stool, apparently the new caretaker of the barber shop. SHe keeps complaining of this terrible headache she has, and how she hasn't been able to sleep much for weeks. My barber told her she should see a doctor, but she said she'd rather not. For a moment, I was afraid he would tell her that I was a Doctor. I gues he still thinks I'm in my early years in Med School. I guess staying quiet was shameful, but I was still afraid to officially start practicing my field in the outside world, with no one to back me up. Plus the fact that I was tired... and the fact that I won't normally give advise if it wasn't asked of me... I wasn't born to be that brave and bold. Soon she began telling my barber how her husband has been cheating on her, how her children hate her, how her eldest son told her she was shit and they're better off without her. Then she talks about her way of releasing stress--- driving a motorcycle on top speed without a helmet on... not caring at all if she dies or not... actually wishing she would have an accident, so she could end it all. I can only imagine all the hurts and pain that this lady could be going through for her to think of taking the easy way out... just like that.

Swith channels to the other barber, who has no customer. he's boorish, garish, loud. A complete contrast to the souls I have previously mentioned. telling nasty jokes, flirting with one lady who keeps on avoiding his advances. Touching several people even in private parts, all in the name of fun. He laughs again, and the people around him laugh with him. Even the problematic lady seemed to catch some of his contagious laughter, though despair was still evident in her eyes. I have known this barber for a long time also, sometimes i get a haircut from him. He's a real talker. He keeps on telling tall tales even if you're not paying attention. And he's fond of making jokes. These jokes seem to be his outlet, laughter seems to be his means to hide all the pain that he feels. i can see that in those few moments when he becomes silent momentarily, revealing sadness in his eyes.

I was still in deep thought, quietly observing, when suddenly, someone broke through my cloak of invisibility. A few minutes earlier, an overweight cross dresser walked in, flirting with the other barber, asking for a free shave. He eventually obliged, after several threats of more seduction. The cross dresser made small talk with the other patrons, with several naughty stories. My cloak vanished when he made small talk with me. He asked several questions, and I was wary to give any answers. Some questions were indeed prying, and somewhat improper. I know his ilk--- i have had several encounters with his kind. Good thing my barber was almost done with his deed. I paid him, gave the usual generous tip, and said my goodbyes. I kept looking back though, if there was a lurker behind me. Someone whom I have observed enough, who might have a hidden agenda for such small talk.

As i walked home, I can't help but think about those people I've just encountered, how difficult lives must be for them. In the eyes of these different people, it is quite confusing how on one hand we see our God creating a beautiful world, yet he allows it to be littered with pain, confusion, ugliness, and even madness. I have interacted with a lot of people... in hospitals, during community works... and it would seem that pain, sadness, and suffering are the prevalent emotions in our world. It's evident when one simply stood still, and observes the people around him. It's that prevalent. even when I'm out getting myself drunk, I encounter a lot of people filled with pain, and many of those people are friends that I' close to. It's hard to see the beauty in this world when majority seem to paint a bleak picture. Maybe it's a horrible world after all, we just see beauty when we choose to see it.

We only see beauty when we choose to imagine it.

Potpourri

I CRIED

I could’ve cried when i felt hurt and disregarded
I could’ve cried each time we did not get along.
But i did not, even though i was deeply wounded,
Even when the wall between us seemed so thick and strong.

I could’ve cried when you decided, we should not be together
I could’ve cried when you said it was all over.
I could’ve cried because, you failed to see
That my love for you would last for eternity.

I could’ve cried when I heard that you left me for him
I could’ve cried each time that i hear you cry.
I could’ve cried when you felt hurt because he has hurt you
But i can’t, no matter how hard I would try.

I could’ve cried for you took away the one thing I treasure,
I could’ve cried for you ignored my love, so pure.
But you did not deserve my compassion nor my tears
For you ignored everything I had to endure.

I could’ve cried when I chose to ignore you
Because that was so hard for me to do.
I could’ve cried when you said there was no one else you can turn to
But how can I trust you when you have never been true?

All the sorrow I kept inside, poured out one day
I was stunned and stupefied, I had no words to say.
No amount of tears can bring you back to my side,
Yet i cried so hard on the day that you died.

10/27/99

*********

DYING

“The longest wait is the one for death”
-- hold on to dear life, until the last breath

I convince myself that I am so strong.
---To my own self, I am lying
I try to conceal the sordid truth,
That slowly, but surely, i am dying.

As i lie in bed, alone at night,
I wonder if tomorrow, i can no longer fight
When my knees would bend, all functions would cease
When my body can no longer fight the disease.

I yearn for the days when she kept me warm
When i felt safe, tucked in her arms
I yearn for each caress, given by Mother
I yearn for those memories, buried forever.

It’s so hard to believe that all would soon end
The life i have cherished, every soul, every friend
It’s hard not to breakdown, it’s so hard not to cry
Soon I would be gone, this world will past me by.

My longest wait is the one for my death
I’ll cling on to dear life, until my last breath...

12/27/99

*********

PRETENSIONS

One has to be wary of your every action.
But I had no choice, for I needed affection.
Your intentions have shown, yet you’re quick to defend.
It’s amazing you still have the nerve to pretend.

Your eyes seem like windows to a soul so pure,
Not a hint of the weariness you have to endure.
Each day, I see a smile on your beautiful face,
Not a hint of betrayal, not a hint of disgrace.

As we lie in the dark I can hear you whisper
Another man’s name while you’re deep in your slumber.
But when you’re awake, it’s another story.
You act as if your world revolves around me.

I seem like a fool, unaware of your game
Of lust and betrayal, of sin and of shame.
I turn a blind eye while you long for another.
We can’t stop now, we still have use for each other.

Several days from now, maybe even tomorrow,
You could leave me here, in the company of sorrow.
When you’ve sucked me dry, your charades would end.
Then you’ll no longer feel the need to pretend.

03/25/2001

*********

I LOST YOU

I lost you.

From the moment when you first laid eyes on him,
He was longing, inviting, he was wanting.
You looked back at me with contempt and regret
Like a captive with thoughts of escaping.

You had no urge to fight, you were quick to surrender
I tried to hold on, but you pushed me farther.
You let go so easily when you found someone better.
I held on though it’s clear, what we once had is over.

I held onto you.

The putrid scent of betrayal , the bitter taste of defeat
I was seriously injured in your game of deceit.
I truly loved you with all of my heart,
Though all that’s behind you, you keep tearing me apart.

Your memory continues to haunt me.
When I close my eyes it’s still you I see.
You’ve sinned against hope, this can’t be forgotten.
You’ve sinned against love, this can’t be forgiven.

I followed you slowly, questions clouding my mind.
It was quite easy, you never looked behind.
I caught you by surprise, I had to make things right
I crushed your empty heart with all of my might.

And I held you.

As I watched your life slowly drift away,
I cried, for there was no other way.
You’ve done me wrong, you had to pay
In the end no words were left to say.

then I lost you.

06/08/2001

*********

WISHFUL THINKING

Tears fall as I feel your hand slipping away
I cry out as I struggle to hold onto you.
I felt cold as I held onto nothing
As I let go of what was once my everything.

As I watch you fade through the distance
I continue pleading, though you can no longer hear.
I feel numb as the wind caresses my body
I keep whispering to myself, how I need you here.

My world would crumble without you---
A vision so harsh and yet painfully true.
I should learn to move forward, see what lies ahead,
But I keep looking back at what we once had instead.

Though it may be time for me to move on,
I can’t just leave it all behind.
For I feel in my heart, somewhere, somehow,
You still might change your mind.

01/15/2002

*********

IMPERFECTIONS WELCOME

Stillness...

As I wake at the dawn of each morning
Struggling to keep my own sanity.
I wear my mask, with no clear purpose
Amidst this sea of anonymity.

Delusions...

Superficial illusion of a perfect life
Pretending there’s compassion, but in truth there is strife
A scar left uncovered means a life of shame.
Wounds shown to others, abruptly ends this tedious game.

Confusion...

I drag my feet over and over.
Can’t keep up with the cycle, I chose to surrender.
Pretensions grew tiresome, sick of this routine.
My mask fell to the ground, revealing what was unseen.

Silence...

They have no choice but to watch me suffer,
They have no choice but to watch me die.
It’s a grim and bitter reminder
Imperfections aren’t welcome in this life.

01/15/2002

The Sandman: Lord of the Dreamworld

I've said before that it's only recently that I'm beginning to discover the amazing stories that are told in the DC universe. I've been searching for treasures in the DC comic books vault once again, and for the past few days, I've been immersed in the world of The Sandman. I still can't find a copy of The Killing Joke, so I thought I should check out the other DC graphic novels on the shelves, particularly in their Vertigo line (which caters to mature readers). I've seen all volumes of The Sandman series at a local bookstore, and I thought they looked interesting... and in case they sucked, at least they'd be great for display. Talk about judging books by their covers! LOL. Kudos to attractive packaging!

Those graphic novels cost a small fortune, about $20 each, and the whole series spans 11 volumes! Buying all of them would probably mke me bankrupt! So my stringent self prevailed... I searched the net for reviews first, and apparently, the series was the most critically acclaimed and award winning comic book series of the 1990's. These graphic novels are in a league of their own. "Sophisticated suspense"--- that's how they describe these books. The books were highly recommended by a lot of users also. So a week ago,I bought the first volume; i figured--- with such overwhelming recommendations, I might as well try reading it. This was a really different comic book series... really dark in tone, somewhat gothic. It was really violent and at times psychotic also, definitely not for kids. And even if some kid would buy one of these books, I doubt if he would understand the profound and complicated storyline enough to enjoy it. As for myself, I was was so amazed and mesmerized by the world Neil Gaiman has created--- i was completely immersed in the Sandman Universe. And unlike when I was reading those Batman Comic books wherein I felt a bit childish, I didn't even feel a slight hint of childishness when I was reading The Sandman. Everything about the series was aimed at adults--- The theme,the storylines, the characters, even the way it was drawn. I was so immersed with the story, that I bought the next volume the very next day! I have the first four volumes now, and at this rate, if I don't control my urge to splurge, I might keep on buying the next volumes until I've spent all my savings! And I know I'll run out of cash way before I've bought all eleven volumes! haha. I'm not regretting having spent so much money though, this is really great stuff--- worth every cent. Each volume is worth re-reading again and again, and it's amazing to discover that you've missed certain details on your first reading!

Speaking of those missed details...

I have to excuse myself while I get back to my readings again. :)

The End of a Dream

Yesterday, I heard some terrible news. A friend told me that a PGH intern has just died. She was diagnosed to have a fever of unknown origin (FUO). Differentials included typhoid fever, dengue fever, meningococcemia, and even EBV. Yet for two weeks, they couldn't arrive at a definite diagnosis. She was found to be coded (no heart beat and no respiration) in the morning, and resuscitative efforts proved to be futile. I never knew the intern, she was not one of the medical clerks I've worked with during my internship training there. Yet, I couldn't help but feel sad for her. What happened makes me think about how fleeting life is... everything can go away--- our source of happiness, sadness, pain, our hopes, our dreams, our ambitions... everything about our lives can be taken from us--- just like that. In an instant... without warning.

Who could've expected such a thing to happen to her? or to any intern, any doctor, for that matter? She went to a top medical school, with dreams of becoming a doctor someday. I don't think she expected to catch a contagious disease on her way to her dream of becoming as physician. Who would've thought that she would catch a potentially fatal illness when she was on triage duty on that day, when she had contact with a patient diagnosed with meningococcemia (hence one of her differentials). We can point fingers at certain people, who were probably at fault... though what good would that do? Maybe it's no one's fault, though I wouldn't be surprised if prophylactic medications were not given, or no face masks were available, since PGH always seemed to run out of much needed medications and supplies. The incident made me realize that health professionals are in a pretty dangerous field. Everyday that we report for duty, we carry many risks--- risks to our health, and even risks to our lives. Everyday we have contact with patients with contagious diseases, some of which are deadly. The burden of too much work coupled with lack of sleep compromises our health even more. Plus those isolated incidents wherein relatives of patients would threaten to hurt you or even kill you if anything happened to their wives, children, parents... yes, such incidents do happen. Some doctors even have it worse. There are a lot of them working at war prone areas, where they would sacrifice their lives, just to fulfill their mission of service. Health profesionals sacrifice a lot, just to continue working in their chosen field. They sacrifice time with family and friends. They sacrifice their own health. And many have sacrificed their lives to be of service to others. Though many people may take what they do for granted, though many health workers go unnoticed, each health worker is a hero. It is not a profession where one can afford to be selfish. When we let selfishness prevail, we can't succeed in this field. We won't be part of the health force at all.

It's really sad to have one's ambition end abruptly like that. We can say that at least she was doing what she wanted to do when disaster struck.... she was on her way to fulfill her ambition. Still, it's a pitiful fate--- she hasn't reached her dreams yet... she was almost there, but not quite. I guess that makes it even more pitiful... her dreams were within reach when everything was taken away from her. I'd hate to think what her loved ones are feeling.... especially her parents. They sent their child to an excellent university, they sent her on the path to fulfill their child's ambition, and maybe their ambition as well--- who wouldn't want to have a doctor in the family after all? Who would've thought that danger was ahead... the road had a fatal trap that would prevent her from reaching her ambitions after all.

sometimes, life can be so unfair.

I Am My Father's Son

That's not something I am proud of.

Don't get me wrong. Sometimes, I wish to be like other people who are so proud of their fathers, that they want the whole world to know just how great their fathers are. But when I try to think of anything about my father that I can be proud of... I just can't. And even when i do, those few good things are overshadowed by everything that is wrong with him.

I never felt close to my father. Maybe during my childhood years, when I was too young to remember. There are pictures that seemed to be proof of that. Back when i was proud of him, back when I cared for my dad. These days, when I'm not angry at him, I simply feel numb. I have no recollection of having established some form of connection with him. These days, I get pissed off just by talking to him. Every time I see him, I can’t help but feel frustration, disappointment, pity, mixed with a bit of anger--- because each time I see him, I see a man who has done nothing but waste his life.

He is pride personified. It is so ironic for a person to be full of pride when I can’t see anything about him that he can be proud of. He hasn't achieved anything that he can be proud of. He acts like some sort of king, as if all other people are his subjects. I don’t like the way he treats some people, like some sort of second class citizens, whose only purpose are to serve him. Disobey his commands and thou shall suffer his wrath. He doesn’t like it when he’s not treated as “the boss”, that’s why he gets so angry when someone challenges his authority. That’s also one reason why he remains unemployed for the past 21 years.

There, I said it. The truth. For as long as I can remember, he has brainwashed me and my siblings to tell people that he is a businessman when we were asked about his occupation. WAS a businessman would be the proper answer. My teachers, my classmates, my friends--- I tell all of them that my father’s a businessman. And I find myself temporarily at a loss for words when I’m asked what sort of business, because the script that we’ve memorized doesn’t include an answer for that. He didn’t finish college, but because of connections with the then president of the country, he was given a high paying job in some company. Apparently, he got a perfect score on some exam given to all high school students --- he was the first person to ever get a perfect score on that exam, so the ex-president took noticed. he was groomed to be one of their trusted minions. The fact that he is intelligent makes his present state even more pathetic. On that said company where he was given a job, of course he was the boss. When that president’s term ended, so did his job. I used to ask my mom why he never looked for another job. My mom said he didn’t want to start at the bottom again because he got used to being on top. Looking at him today, I doubt if he can really start at the bottom. He never respects any form of authority, because to him, he is the authority. Another probable reason would be his laziness. He is just plain lazy. It’s so hard to wake him up in the morning, to get him to do chores, and he even ask others to do very simple things for him. For instance, when he’s eating in the kitchen, he would call any of us, even if we were in another room, just to get a glass of water, or some food for him, when he can just stand up and get whatever he wants himself. Sure, he manages to earn some money occasionally, and I admit, he does get big money. He says he has some occasional and temporary business partnerships with old friends, but I wouldn’t be surprised if shady deals were involved. He always seems busy, he always had meetings. He often goes on trips abroad. Turns out he was only doing favors for that ex-president's family. All those meetings were about matters regarding the ex-president’s family. More specifically, matters regarding the former first lady. For 21 years, that’s all he kept doing--- tehnically, it's 26 years. My whole life that's what he has been doing. I was glad a few years ago because he had an office somewhere, I thought he finally had a stable job. Turns out that office was a center for doing favors for the former first lady and her family. For 21 years, he seemed like their slaves, and he seemed to relish that role. He seemed to relish being so unproductive--- it’s not like he’s getting anything out of it. If he was paying for favors, the favors have been paid years ago. Maybe he gets prestige. He gets to hang out with high society. One of the few good things about what he does is that he gets to establish a lot of connections in every sector you could think of. That’s probably one of the reasons why he can act so superior because he has friends in high places--- the military, the police, the government, even in the health sector. He must think he can get away with anything... I guess he just might. I don't give a sh*t about those connections, though. I can live without his connections.

One of the roles of a father is to provide for his family. As a provider, he sucks bigtime. My grandmother was the one who paid for my tuition fees from grade school up to med school. My grandmother was the one who gave me my daily allowance from grade school up to med school. I probably owe her my very existence. She’s also the one who gives my father his daily allowance up to the present day. At the age of 46, he still depends on his parents for money. How pathetic is that? When he manages to earn some money, he buys us expensive things, and he buys a lot of expensive things for himself. He splurges all in an instant, that’s why he barely has any savings. When he gets money he also gives us some, but I’m always reluctant to accept it, knowing that I’ll probably loan it to him in the future. Sometimes, he even forgets to pay back. How many fathers borrow money from their children anyway? I was barely in my teens when he started doing that, when he found out I have started saving money. Then i learned to lie about it, I pretended to have spent my money on some stuff that I wanted. Then he'll scold me for being so wasteful.

He also has this disease called wishful thinking. He keeps on talking about buying this house, that car, this piece of equipment, that piece of furniture, as if he has a lot of money on hand. All that wishful thinking nauseates me, I’m always trying to keep myself from telling him to shut up. It’s probably okay to live in a dream world if he keeps it to himself, but when he speaks to salesmen, it’s as if he’s really going to make a purchase on that very instant. He speaks as if he’s some sort of millionaire. I’m ashamed for him and for myself on such encounters.

One of the reasons why I decided to pursue being a doctor even if I didn’t really want to at first, was to be sure that I won’t be anything like him. I realized that if I become a doctor, somehow I will be stable and secure. That’s also the reason why my brother is working in some far away province even if he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to be like my father. My sisters feel the same way. If I reach his age and realize how unproductive and pathetic my life has been, I would probably shoot myself in the head. With such a wasted life, it would be better if I had never lived at all.

Just this afternoon, I was witness to one of his "superiority spells". He made such a big fuss about the policemen causing a traffic jam because they were apprehending several traffic violators. His temper was soaring through the roof. He was beyond boiling point, blowing the car’s horn continuously, shouting expletives. Funny how all the other drivers around us didn’t seem to mind the minor traffic at all. When he came within hearing distance of the policemen, he shouted at them. If I was one of those policemen, I would’ve shot him outright, or at least apprehended him. I wish someonw would put him in his place, to wound his pride a bit, to bring him back down to earth. When we had dinner, he again reached his boiling point when the waitress didn’t respond to his call immediately because she was also serving other customers. I wanted to shout at him, to bring him to his senses. What tested my patience even more was when he asked me for some load for his cellphone. Funny how someone can behave like such a King, yet can’t even afford to buy some load for his cellular phone.

While growing up, I didn’t seem to share the same interests as my father. I guess that’s why I never felt close to him, there’s nothing in his life that I can relate to. While growing up, my brother shared more interests with him, that’s why they were closer to each other. I was never jealous, though. I didn’t really care. I noticed that in recent years, he has made a great deal of effort to become closer to me, but it seems futile because it’s a little too late for that. I can't just feel close to a person after so many years of being distant. It’s even harder now that I’ve realized what a big loser he is in life. Just the thought of talking to him annoys me. Even my brother, who was once close to him has now become distant for the very same reason--- looking at how our father has wasted his life pisses him off. Maybe that’s one reason why my father has been making huge efforts to establish some sort of bond with me---- because he has lost any form of connections to both of his sons. He must be connected to at least one.

No matter how I disdain him, the fact remains that I am my father’s son. Sometimes I wish I can be proud of him, the way other sons are proud of their fathers... the way other sons idolize their fathers, the way they emulate and try to be like their fathers... but I just can’t. Trying to emulate him would be stepping back. It's so easy to move past our father’s shadow; for several years now, we cast our shadows back at him.

I am my father’s son...

and it’s not something I can be proud of.

J.D., M.D.

i guess it does have a nice ring to it. :)

after several years in med school, and more than 2 months of burying myself in review books, I've finally made it.

I feel as if I've won the lottery--- and that analogy isn't really far fetched. I was simply guessing for the most part of the exam. and those weren't intelligent guessings at all--- i was guessing without basis for I couldn't eliminate the other choices. Questions were so specific. It wouldn't matter if they asked about common diseases or "must know" topics. Instead, They asked a lot of "out of this world questions"! Like playing the lottery, i just picked a random letter, hoping that I would be lucky enough to be pick the right ones. I guess luck was really on my side on those days. Thank God. :)

In my opinion, I don't think they should make board exams that way. What's the purpose of board exams anyway? Isn't it to determine if we are fit for the profession we choose? how can they determine if we are fit enough when they ask a lot of "out of this world" questions? shoudn't they ask questions about the "must know" topics? those topics that anyone entering a certain profession should know? It's so frustrating when you know you've studied enough, and then you're faced with a lot of esoteric questions. Also, since a lot of people have also been guessing, everyone seemed to be on equal footing, whether they studied or not. hence, many of those who really prepared for the exam, and a number of intelligent people didn't make it. and a lot of those who barely prepared for the exams passed, with plain luck in guessing on their side.

That's why I don't look down on those who didn't pass. I know a lot of them are intelligent. And I know that they would be good doctors. it's just that in the lottery that they call the Physician Licensure Exam, wherein luck is a very big factor, they weren't lucky enough to win. I even feel a bit guilty for being so happy, knowing that some close friends of mine didn't make it. It kinda seems wrong to celebrate.

***

now I have to look at the grueling journey ahead. I haven't really decided on which path I should take. A few more years in residency, plus a few more in fellowship. The actual journey has only begun.

*groan*

in the meantime, i'll drown myself in pure bliss. Just for a few days, then I'll get back to business and plan for the grueling journey ahead.

Butterflies in my Stomach

I haven't felt this way for a very long time. It was the same feeling that I used to feel when I have to perform alone in front of a large audience... to act, to sing, or deliver a speech. Or when I was a contestant in one of those quiz bowls and I felt so conscious because everyone would see me fail miserably... which was often the case because I gave in to pressure. The pressure was too great. Stage fright. I wanted to back out, but I knew that I can't.

I've been aloof and indifferent for the past few months when everyone seems to be panicking already. But just now, I suddenly feel queasy. nauseous. I have butterflies in my stomach. I seem to be on the brink of stress incontinence too. This feeling was all too familiar, though it wasn't since high school when I last felt this way.

After more than two months of studying, I have finished. It seems that I'm not used to studying anymore, since I've been moving at a snail's pace... but I have to study everything again, briskly this time, since i seem to have forgotten a lot of those things that I have studied. This is incredibly frustrating. And to make matters worse, I only have five days--- ONLY 5 DAYS(!!!!) left for review, and I can say that I have never been more unprepared for an exam in my whole life. Those who have taken the exam say that one can never be really prepared for that exam, that you can't really study for it, you won't find the answers in the reviewers, that it all boils down to luck and prayer. They say that for comfort, i guess. but it's making me panic instead of easing my nerves.

The pressure is so great, I don't think I can bear not passing the exam.I hope when I update my blog 2 weeks from now, when the results finally come out, I'll get to post something positive.