Cashing In On Nostalgia

I'm referring to the latest Indiana Jones flick.

The first time i heard about this movie, one question popped in my mind. Why on Earth would they create a sequel 19 years after the last movie has been shown? Other than the attempt to cash in on the power of nostalgia and say that this movie is "fan service", I can think of no other reason than to try and resurrect Harrison Ford's dimming career.

According to other reviews, this new Indiana Jones movie pales in comparison to the previous films. After watching the film, I guess I have to agree. I can't remember the plot of the first three movies, but I remember being thrilled watching them when I was a kid. That doesn't mean that it's a bad movie. When it come to summer blockbusters, I would say it's above average. There are a lot of exciting scenes, and I'd be hard pressed to think of a boring moment. The problem is, it never rises above the usual popcorn fare. Every scene seemed to have been done somewhere before, in one form or another. Instead of taking inspiration from actual historical events like in the previous movies, they resorted to something fictional this time around. The fact that the type of fiction they resorted to seemed to be better suited for an episode of the X-files isn't helping. Even if Indiana Jones was tops 2 decades ago, for today's generation--- people who aren't old enough to be affected by the power of nostalgia, it would only seem like another rip-off of The Mummy and National Treasure--- even if Indiana Jones pioneered those types of movies two decades ago.

Happy Feet

I'd hate to sound like some product endorser, but I just couldn't help it. I've never been this satisfied after purchasing footwear. :)

I used to think that no one looks at shoes that people are wearing. I don't notice what shoes people are wearing, unless those shoes are shoved directly at my face, or when I have to bend down and pick up something... and I thought most people are also like that. That's the reason why my shoes are usually old, dilapidated, and downright dirty. I thought shoes were the last part of one's wardrobe that people look at. So when I recently bought a pair of Sanuk sidewalk surfers, I was really surprised when almost every person I bumped into noticed the footwear that I was wearing--- and when I say notice, that's notice in a good way, and not a bad way! I didn't buy a pair just to look cool and fashionable--- I bought a pair because they were really comfortable. In fact, I could wear them for several days and my feet wouldn't hurt. And the best part? They're not really shoes, they're sandals in disguise! People don't usually notice that they're sandals, so I can actually wear them to work! hehe. All those people I ran into gave compliments, asking where they could buy a pair, saying how attractive the sandals shoes look, asking how much they cost etc. I didn't buy those sandals just so I can receive compliments, but I have to admit, it feels great knowing that you can actually wear something that looks good without sacrificing comfort. *cough* *cough* crocs *cough*

The name Sanuk means "Happy" in Thai, and no word could be more appropriate. My feet are happy indeed--- in more ways than one! :)

More Hospital Blues

Inefficiency resulting from rotten systems have always been my breaking point. Every time I encounter such problems, especially when such problems could have been easily avoided if certain practices are changed always make me lose my temper. That's one of the reasons why I hated my job last year, and one of the major reasons why I eventually decided to resign. That's the same reason why I may also decide to give up one of my jobs now.

I've ranted about how frustrating it is to work at the local hospital where I'm working now. In a span of a few weeks, things have gotten from bad to worse. Truth is, things have become incredibly pathetic. More laboratory exams that are essential for treatment are unavailable. We have to send blood specimens out to other hospitals and wait for results. Waiting often takes hours, which defeats the essence of emergency treatment. We don't even have means of measuring blood sugar levels anymore. We don't even have CBG strips! It was bad enough when the management made that smart decision that only laboratory personnel can use those CBG machines. CBG machines are essential for emergency treatment--- I have yet to hear of any other hospital wherein there's no CBG machine in the emergency room! Can you imagine having to wait for the lab personnel who is often busy extracting blood somewhere else in the hospital, when we could have already gotten the blood glucose level and administered the proper treatment in less than half the time if only CBG machines were available? On my previous tour of duty, they ran out of CBG strips! Diabetic patients in ketoacidosis were told to transfer to other hospitals because we couldn't do anything... we couldn't even stabilize their condition. Trauma patients have to be transferred because we don't even have the needs to dress their wounds. There are no sedatives to treat patients with frank seizures. There's an emergency cart, but it's mostly empty. The simple task of intubation can become next to impossible. They should just close the whole emergency department because we're not capable of treating any emergency case!

And as always, dealing with the department of obstetrics is the the most problematic. I still can't figure out why obstetric patients have to be managed in the emergency room, when in other hospitals, they go straight to the labor room, or they have a separate emergency room for ob-gyne patients! One patient came in at around 1 PM with a retained placenta. She gave birth at home at around 9 AM courtesy of a midwife, yet the family decided to bring her to a hospital four hours later when she was already hypotensive and gasping from all the blood loss. We couldn't just pull the placenta out without an emergency set up because it could result to more bleeding. To be safe, she should be managed by an obstretrician in the operating room. To complicate matters, she's a Jehovah's Witness--- you know, those people who would rather die than to undergo blood transfusion, because that's what their belief tells them. Good thing I'm an agnostic and therefore free from such religious stupidity and bullshit...So we had no choice but to keep on administering intravenous fluids to keep her blood pressure up. She was referred to the obstretrician on deck, who refused managing the patient because there was no room available and she did not have enough money to buy the required needs for operation. She told us to transfer the patient, which of course was out of the question since the patient was still unstable. More relatives came, they eventually got enough money, and they managed to get a room. So she was referred again. Then the consultant said she still can't accept the patient because the procedure (possible hysterectomy) cannot be done there because she MIGHT need certain instruments that MIGHT be unavailable . WTF?! It would have been easier to understand if she just told us outright that she was simply lazy and didn't want to go to the hospital on a Sunday afternoon!

When the patient's vital signs were a bit stable, we tried calling other hospitals that would accept her. As expected, no hospital would accept a hypotensive patient for transfer, especially if she is a Jehovah's fuckin' Witness and therefore CANNOT undergo transfusion. Last year, I had a patient with the same beliefs before, and I couldn't help but shout at all the relatives out of frustration. I shouted at them for being so stupid, for letting religious beliefs, teachings that someone else just handed out to them, cloud their common sense. I was torn between my duty to save a person's life and respecting their stupid religious beliefs. In the end I gave up. There's no use trying to save people who refuse to save themselves.

The Obgyne residents, most of whom are overflowing with pride and think they're superior to everyone else because they have finished residency training but still take jobs as residents because they have no private practice, are not making things easier. Is it too much trouble to go down and assess the patient, help us in their management when all they do upstairs is sleep? Where's that post graduate training that they're so proud of? As if Obstetrics is such a difficult field to specialize in. They keep on doing the same things again and again, it's actually considered a no brainer in the field of medicine. If we exchanged places with them, I bet we would have an easier job delivering those babies even without residency training, and I'm sure they wouldn't know what to do with all the patients coming in with heart attacks and brain hemorrhages. It took a call from the hospital director to get things done. They were probably afraid of the media frenzy that such a case would result to, because how the case was being managed was very unethical. After more than 6 hours, the patient was finally brought up to the labor room. The patient could be admitted after all, why did it have to take that long? Is it because the patient wasn't rich, and the consultant won't be getting a high professional fee for her services? Or was she simply lazy, and no monetary benefit could make her move that lazy ass of hers?

That wasn't the only problem we had with their department. After a few hours, a patient in preterm labor came in. There was no incubator available, so we advised her to transfer to another hospital. Then she came back after a few hours, because a consultant told her to go back because there was no other hospital that would admit her. She would just sign a waiver saying that she knows the consequences of preterm delivery without an incubator available. About the same time, another patient came in with admitting orders, she just had to complete the needs required. We informed both consultants that there was no room available. They said to just bring both patients to the labor room while they wait for an available room. That seemed simple enough--- BUT the hospital had this policy of not admitting patients if there's no room available, unless those pregnant patients came in with a fully dilated cervix, and therefore giving birth is imminent. So the charge nurse in the labor room refused to have the patients transferred from the ER, even when they already bought all the required supplies, even if the consultants were informed that there was no room available. They said that the patients should just return the things they bought and transfer to another hospital. Jesus Christ. One of those patients was already advised to transfer to another hospital. She was told to come back, only to be told to transfer again?! Was that some sort of joke? Did they think it was some sort of game? Good thing her consultant advised her to wait at the ER even though the environment is very unsterile. The other consultant told me to tell his patient to transfer. After monitoring her pregnancy regularly for months, he just decides to turn the patient away? Shouldn't he fight for his patient? Who cares if it's the hospital's policy not to bring up patients who are not yet admitted to the labor room? If for whatever reason he can't transfer the patient to another hospital where he's affiliated with--- He's a fuckin' consultant, he should find a way! A dictator didn't make those rules, those rules are not absolute and can therefore be bended! Instead he didn't even fight for his patient, he just agreed to what the charge nurse said. Jesus, that's the first time I've heard of a consultant who bowed down to the powers of a charge nurse.

I got really mad. I kept on shouting expletives. I was ready to punch that charge nurse in the face. There were empty beds in the labor room! If the patients were about to give birth, they would allow them inside the labor room anyway, even when they had no room available! What's the difference?! --- So what did I do? I didn't tell the patient to transfer. No way. I told her to wait, because when she's about to give birth, the have no choice but to admit her. i told her to file a lawsuit if she can. I told her to tell the media. I told her to tell the whole world about the great hospital she's in. Then maybe that would result to change. If they can't change, then maybe they might shut down the whole hospital. Frankly, I don't really care if that happens. A lot of people will lose their jobs, but those who are good at what they do can easily find work elsewhere. A hospital that is that fucked up shouldn't even be open in the first place.

At A Price

I have to admit, I wasn't too excited about having a Toyota Altis instead of another Honda Civic to replace the car that I wrecked a few months ago. At first glance, it's not as eye catching as the Civic. The Civic screams innovation and youth, while the Altis--- because of the very few changes made through the years, it looks a bit dated...truth be told, it looks like a family car, a car your dad would drive. The fact that Orlando Bloom is endorsing it--- the epitome of uncool and everything BLAH these days, definitely isn't helping (what the hell was Toyota thinking, getting him as an endorser?!). But when the car was delivered two days ago... WHOA. It didn't look too bad at all. It looked great actually. I just had to bring it out for a test drive ASAP. LOL. Although I miss the futuristic design of the Civic, with its digital odometer and all, the Altis actually packs a lot more features underneath its conservative design.

Yesterday, my grandmother said that we should bring the car to church and ask the parish priest to have it blessed... to make the car "accident proof". O---kay... as if dousing the car with holy water can make it accident proof. So we brought the car to church, because saying NO would only lead to a string of never ending arguments. As expected, we had to pay a HEFTY sum first, before the priest would bless the car... because nothing is FREE these days, not even religious services. So much for the virtue of charity. I managed to keep a straight face as various religious quotes were spoken, even as the priest turned to me and included me in his prayer and blessing... but my eyes nearly popped when even the interiors were doused with holy water. Never mind if the water was probably unclean and it would most probably stain the seat covers... apparently holy water couldn't damage the electronic components in the dashboard simply because it was miraculous and therefore defied the laws of matter.

Contrasting religious beliefs aside (or lack thereof), at least I have a new car. I can pretend to be a devout catholic for a new car. No big deal. Going to work wouldn't be such a chore again. Say goodbye to the hassles of public transport--- Overcrowded buses and trains, taxi drivers who refuse to take you to your desired destination because it's out of their way. Every good thing has several strings attached, we just have to determine whether or not the benefits outweigh all the undesirable things that come with it.Having a car of my own is great... but at what price? The very moment my dad gave me the car keys, he reminded me that application for residency WHERE I USED TO WORK starts in July. I was a fool to believe that the issue has been settled. My new car wasn't just a gift. It was a BRIBE.

Looking back at my entries this time last year, I begin to wonder... Am I ready to go through all that all over again? Do I even want to? Is having a new car worth giving up the contentment and relative happiness that I seem to have now?

Neutered

Where i used to work, I used to complain that there was a severe lack of essential supplies. We ran out of essential drugs. We ran out of intravenous fluids. Reagents for several essential laboratory exams are sporadic. The list goes on and on. And I always complained how the whole system sucks, how the whole system was so rotten.

I never thought that I had it so much better back then.

Frustration. I want to be able to do something... I want to help... but I just can't--- because certain circumstances wouldn't allow.

I've been working simultaneously in a private hospital and a public hospital for a few months now. I don't know which is more frustrating--- Not being able to treat patients because they couldn't afford the high fees that they have to cough up up front before they could be treated, or not being able to treat patients because you don't have the needs to properly attend to them.

The essential stuff are rarely available. We rarely have sterile gauzes available. We don't even have unsterile ones. Can you imagine the scenario when trauma patients come in profusely bleeding, and we have no gauze to apply on the wounds for immediate hemostasis? We have to ask their companions to buy supplies at the nearest drug store! The intravenous fluid of choice for trauma patients is also not available. And speaking of laboratory exams, one night there was none available. X-rays? Many times we couldn't even x-ray our patients because they ran out of films. Empirical treatment becomes the rule, we treat our patients even when we do not know what their ailments are exactly. The hospital where I used to work had a budget provided by the national government, hence they had more funds for supplies. Now I work for a hospital with funds provided by the local municipality only, hence the bare bones supplies--- and the word BARE is an understatement. I often wonder why they don't just close down the whole damn place if they couldn't provide adequate health care.

And speaking of rotten systems? Apparently I was wrong for thinking the the system in the place where I used to work was the most inefficient. I was wrong. Sure there's the whole bureaucracy, red tape, and occupational blackmail and threats rampant in any government institution... but everything is magnified in an institution with a lesser budget. I don't know how having lesser funds can lead to an increase in inefficiency when creating a system only entails effective communication between human beings. And it's not like those employees have a right to complain about their salaries, making their wages as excuses to slack off--- their salaries are actually at par with employees at other hospitals, even private ones. I could go on and on about how everything is inefficient, but what really pisses me of is the way the hospital handles OBgyne patients.

It is the only hospital that I know where Obgyne patients do not head straight to the Obgyne department for examination. They head straight to the emergency room together with medical, surgical, and pediatric patients. Patients with gynecological complaints are tolerable... but obstetric patients do not have a place in the emergency room! Why is that, you ask? It's fine when we only have to do initial examinations... but obstetric patients need continuous monitoring, something that we could not afford to do in the emergency room! For crying out loud, that's what labor rooms are for! Last week there was an incident when one obstetric patient had to wait at the emergency room for 2 whole hours while her husband was completing the needs for operation, because they have this STUPID policy that patients cannot be brought up to the labor room until they've bought all the needed supplies. That means that if the patient's cervix suddenly becomes fully dilated, she has to give birth at the ER. How stupid is that?! The emergency room also has no supplies available, wouldn't it be better if the patient gives birth in the operating room where the environment is sterile rather than giving birth at the ER since we have no supplies also?!

The end result, the baby was dead upon delivery. And the pediatric resident upstairs called us, saying that we were also partly to blame because we didn't monitor the fetal heart rate regularly. I was trying very hard to keep myself from shouting at her. We had so many patients that time, no one had the time to check on their patients regularly! Even the nurses had their hands full! That's why OB patients should be brought straight to the Labor room since there are people there who could check on them regularly! Let those patients wait for the required supplies there!

What takes the cake is how most of the Ob residents talk to ER residents as if they're already consultants. Granted, some are already finished with residency training, but at that hospital, they are still employed as residents making us equals. They have no right to act so superior and treat us like losers. They're already finished with residency yet they have to take jobs as residents because they have no patients in their private practice? They are the losers, not us! Some even call us, in the midst of the melee in the ER, scolding us about certain erroneous orders we've made. If they have a problem with the orders, they should just correct them themselves! The patients are already upstairs, they should be the ones to call the attending physicians! And don't they dare complain about their work load. We know how much work they are doing and we know they are just sleeping upstairs during the wee hours of the morning because all their patients have to go through us! We are lucky to get two hours of sleep because patients continuously arrive in the emergency room, even for the most stupid and unnecessary reasons! Sometimes I feel the urge to define the word EMERGENCY to each of these patients!

The whole system is typical for every public hospital, and the lack of supplies can make everyone conclude that it is a public hospital--- but that hospital seems to be more of a private hospital in the guise of public hospital. In truth, it is a death trap. Sure, there's a huge discount for the residents of the municipality, but that doesn't include ER consults. They even charge a huge amount for professional fees, even if we barely do anything. Drugs are even cheaper outside. The tetanus vaccine alone costs more than three times the amount sold in drug stores! That's highway robbery! What makes it worse is the fact that most of the patients seeking consult don't have much money to begin with, that's why they seek consult at a "public" hospital. It's like robbing from the poor, taking away what little they have left. And they are "imprisoned" in the waiting area until they could settle their bills, a practice that I thought was already illegal these days.

Many times I'm tempted to just pay for their needs, pay for a portion of their bills, give a little cash so I could help... but I've learned that such a practice opens up a can of worms. Once I start giving money to one patient, I have to give money to all the other patients because word gets around--- fast. Besides, I've been doing that practice for most of the past year, at times because I was forced and required to, but many times because i wanted to. It's about time I spend some of the money I earn for myself. Even if I wanted to help, the bills that they accumulate seem pretty high even for me. Gone are the days when I could spend half of my salary on one patient alone and not care at all afterwards. Before, my parents still gave me an allowance, this year I'm on my own. I couldn't afford to be as helpful and giving as I was back then.

After each tour of duty, I have time to reflect during the long ride home. You really do see how fucked up this country is just by looking at the health care system. In this country, health care is a privilege, not a right. The poor have no right to get sick, because when they do they have very little to turn to. When they get sick or when they have an accident, it's as if they're already counting the hours until their death. It's as if they already died. The government labels trivial matters as their priority. They are blind to the necessities. I can only imagine how detached they are, how insensitive they are to the needs of the very people that they are supposed to be serving.

Slackers

We've all known quite a few of them. Everywhere we go, they are present. Back in school, they're the parasites who copied your homework, who looked at your answers during examinations. They're not the ones who do it once or twice out of desperation. They're the ones who do so regularly, because they believe that exerting even a little effort is a waste of precious energy. Why do things the hard way, when there's an easier way? They don't mind moving forward at the expense of others.

I once thought such behavior stayed in schools... because people who lived through life that way have no place in a professional setting--- they would get left behind. When I was in residency, there were people who hardly exerted any effort, they don't do their work properly. Some get caught and get reprimanded. Some, however go unnoticed because they know who's strings to pull, their sweet words cover up their numerous shortcomings. Our superiors think they're doing a good job, when in truth they're doing a horrible job. I'm not saying I'm doing a perfect job... weariness and fatigue has caught up with me dozens of times. I too am guilty of several "disappearing acts" because I got too tired and i could hardly function properly. But some people make up certain excuses when in truth they're just taking a break for no valid reason, out having fun while their co workers are left with the tasks they've left behind. I've grown to hate such people who only think of themselves. As if the words "sorry" and "it won't happen again" would always work. People get numb to those words when said in habitual succession. As if saying sweet nothings and giving treats could make people forget. Their effects are also diminished when done habitually. I hate continuously covering for their asses. If they fucked up once or twice, it's fine. Exposing them wouldn't do much good. you'd be labeled as jealous, insecure, bitter... if they do such a good job of covering their shortcomings, you could even be labeled a liar.

You'd expect that as people mature, their work ethics would become better. Some people, however find it difficult to change. Such behavior has become completely entwined with their personality and total worth as a person. They're destined to be scums for life.

Just last week our schedule was thrown in disarray. Two people just suddenly backed out of work, even when they agreed to the schedule for the month of March. All of a sudden, we were two men short. That means we had to go on more duties. It's fine since we earn more money, but what if we already had plans for those days? The other guy even decided to go on a sudden vacation without warning. How unprofessional is that?! If they were planning on something, shouldn't they have said something when we were making our schedule last month to avoid sudden conflicts? If they thought the work was too much, shouldn't they at least finish the work they've agreed upon and just opt out next month, since we haven't set our April schedule yet? if they thought they didn't like the work, they never should have agreed in the first place. Never mind if they found it hard to say NO to the consultant who hired us. They should have told the truth that they didn't like to work there in the first place. That would have saved us a lot of trouble. And they still have the gall to smile, acting like chums, not even apologizing indirectly, as if they've caused no trouble at all. Can't they take a hint? Could they really be that dense?!

I guess I already know the answer. Sure they are dense. They may notice the hints we're giving, but they couldn't possibly care less.

A person would have to be really numb to keep on living his life as a slacker.

One Year Older

After what i referred to as my "worst birthday ever" last year, I was pretty sure my birthday this year would be better. After all, I'm not asking for much. i just want a day free from problems and hassles. That's not too much to ask for, right? I don't really care about the celebrating part. To have dinner with family and a few friends has become mandatory, so I just go with the flow--- my family believes there should be a gathering on birthdays, because another year in one's life is something we should be thankful for, therefore it should be celebrated with the people closest to one's heart.

When I checked the calendar a few weeks ago, i was surprised to see that my birthday fell on a holy week this year. On a Maundy Thursday to be exact. Bummer. So much for the drinking session I was hoping to have after dinner. I figured all bars would be closed. And even if there would be a bar open (probably owned by a non catholic), I figured most of my friends wouldn't like to be drinking on a holy thursday. It just isn't much fun drinking alone. Plus all those holy week traditions that I'm practically forced to do by my overly religious grandparents would probably put me in a bad mood.

But surprise, surprise! it didn't turn out bad. We found a restaurant that was open. And it had a bar! And even though some of my close friends weren't able to come--- can't get out of their family's holy week tradition was the number one excuse, the second being on duty at the hospital... the right people came. Although there were moments when this one girl became incredibly annoying that it almost ruined my evening, which she does every so often to the point that I already got used to it... I still keep on wondering to this day why we have been friends all these years despite her attributes that a lot of people (including me) have grown to despise. And that instance earlier in the evening when another explosive argument almost happened, when my dad kept insisting that I go to the church and pray for a few minutes just to say thanks, even when we were running late and it was the restaurant's policy to cancel reservations after a 20 minute waiting period... and that second on the brink of another heated argument for the night with him in the parking lot... But overall, it was a nice evening. Although I didn't get drunk to the point of ecstasy, I did get to drink. LOL. But most importantly, I got to reconnect with a few friends that I haven't seen for a while.

The worst part? When i got home. I checked my emails, and I received computer generated messages from several services that I subscribed to. Happy 28th birthday, they said. Woooooohoooooo. I suddenly felt old. Funny how just one digit can make that big difference. At 27 I still felt so young. At 28, I feel that I'm no longer young. When my dad was 28, he already had 4 kids. Heck, when my dad was 28, I was already 8 years old. In two short years, I'll be saying goodbye to my carefree years of being a 20-something. In just two short years, I'd look pathetic acting like the way I'm acting now. I need to start planning, I need to have some stability--- but how can I when my future is still clouded in uncertainty, when I still don't know which direction to take? Who wants to grow old anyway, when living a carefree life with little responsibility is so much easier? It's okay to live life with such a perspective as a young adult, but I can't really refer to myself as a young adult anymore. Never mind the fact that I still have no stable job, never mind the fact that I still live with my parents. I am getting old. Everyone gets older, it's inevitable. Living a carefree life as one approaches his thirties is shameful, if not downright pathetic. The journey through life is a journey we must continuously travel. There are no stop overs. Even when we grow weary, we have to move on. To think otherwise would be somewhat delusional. Unlike some people i know who refer to themselves as perennial 20 somethings, who chose to live a life with no worries and responsibilities, I feel that it's better to look down the road and plan for the rigorous journey ahead.

I guess it's about time I start acting my age.

Pretenders

That's Dr. Nick Riviera from The Simpsons. It's funny seeing his antics on TV, but when you see such incompetent doctors in real life, it's not funny at all. I started this other job last week, as an emergency medicine physician at a government hospital near the private hospital where I'm currently employed since January. I'm not required to report to that hospital everyday, so I though I might as well find something else to do during those days when I don't have work. So when I was offered this job, I accepted it. I figured i could use the extra money. And the pay IS good. Plus, since I'd be working in a government hospital again, i'd feel right at home. Only it wasn't really a government hospital, in the sense that services rendered weren't for free. They had fees for everything! Expenses were only cheaper compared to most private hospitals... a lot of patients can't even buy the medicines needed, and they expect them to pay for miscellaneous hospital fees and professional fees? You'd expect that there would be some free stuff, but NO. everything has a price. It's even more frustrating that there are no actual licensed surgeons on duty, so we have to send even critical patients away and advise them to transfer to other hospitals. And we also have to send patients away due to overcrowding--- a problem common to all government hospitals. With the number of patients we have to turn away, I can't help but think that it was a somewhat useless hospital. I mean, what purpose does it serve if it can't cater to the needs of the less fortunate constituents in the city? The city would've been fine if it wasn't built at all.

The first day of duty was relatively benign. Sure, I didn't get to sleep at all, but the patient load wasn't really much... at least it's not much compared to the number of patients I had to attend to where I used to work. Patients appeared constantly, but at least they do not come in droves. I got to eat on time, and the work load wasn't that physically taxing. But I had a big problem. I was in unfamiliar territory. For the past year, I've handled nothing but surgical cases. As a result, it seemed that I've become unfamiliar with medical cases. That's a huge problem because in the emergency room in that hospital, patients aren't distributed per department. That means I get to handle every patient that walks in--- be it surgical, medical, gynecological, pediatric, obstetric... when one pregnant patient came in, I did an internal exam, but I wasn't sure anymore about what I was palpating. On my last duty, three geriatric patients came in with chest pain. I gave the initial medications and I immediately ordered ECGs done... but I wasn't sure about what I should do next. When the ECG tracings were handed to me, it seemed Greek to me. Crap! It's been two years since I've read an ECG tracing, I could barely read one now! I've been used to referring such patients to the medical department immediately, so now I can't seem to manage such patients on my own! I asked the consultant on duty that night, but he wasn't much help. He didn't finish training as an emergency physician nor as an internist... his residency training program was surgery, so he was also not used to handling medical cases! I ran towards the callroom and quickly scanned some medical books. Then I ordered this and that medication, not really sure of what i was doing. It must have been dumb luck because the patients seemed to have stabilized. It was so embarrassing. And i pity the patients coming in for help, expecting expert advise from such inept novices. It's even more pitiful when one realizes that such scenarios are pretty commonplace. When i receive referrals from other hospitals, i can see a lot of doctors improperly managing their patients. As a physician on duty in the emergency room, I see myself as inept. But a lot of these other physicians are even more inept than me. What does that say about the health care system in the country? Emergency situations call for competence, and yet many physicians on duty in emergency rooms aren't competent enough. They say it's difficult to properly screen employees since a lot of physicians are leaving the country. Strict screening procedures would drive the few interested applicants away. Resignation isn't really the best option, knowing that they can really use my help. I guess until proper screening procedures are implemented, going back to my medical books to refresh my knowledge is the most responsible choice. Without sufficient knowledge, I wouldn't be able to help even if I wanted to--- I could even be doing more harm than good, even though my intentions remain pure. Pure intentions aren't enough. A little knowledge can go a long way. Hopefully when I return there next week, I can already make the right decisions, i can treat my patients properly. Hopefully, I can manage each patient because I know how, not because I'm pretending to know how.

Regurge

Another heated argument with the father yesterday morning. A proper welcome to the place I call home. I just came straight from a 48 hour duty, and I was in no mood for such shenanigans. I answered back. Again and again and again. When I chose to stay silent, it was apparently too late. A lot of words had already poured out of my mouth. He asked why I was so pissed at him. Do I really have to enumerate?! He started the argument for no apparent reason, and he was wondering why I am so pissed?! A moment of awkward silence followed. And then he left. I needed a drink. Badly. So I was planning to get really drunk when I went out last night.

I was in a familiar bar. In the company of familiar people. I ordered a drink, a strong one to start the evening with a bang. But something wasn't right. Just one sip, and the juices in my stomach were churning the wrong way. Just one sip, and I felt like vomiting. Crap, this can't be. After almost two long weeks, I still had gastritis?!

NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

I need my alcohol! It's a necessity, and I need it badly! Without it, I could go crazy! It's the only thing keeping me sane during times of frustration and desperation! How long will this stupid gastritis last?! My stomach has given up on me... it's possible that my mind could give up one me next.

Punch Drunk Love

No other day in the year can be so blatantly MANUFACTURED as Valentine's Day. Heck, it's even more commercialized than Christmas. At least Christmas, when all the gloss is taken away, stands for something of value. It's a day when people commemorate something that's actually worth commemorating. And I'm not just saying this because I'm currently single. I've felt the same way about February 14 even when I was in a relationship. Do we really need to mark this date on our calenders, so that we can show how much we love our better halves? Can't we show them how much we love them any day of the year? Can't we show them how much we love them EVERY DAY of the year? And if we really want to mark one special day in our calendars, isn't that what anniversaries are for? The day the relationship started--- now that's something worth celebrating. Not some special occasion resulting from some ingenious marketing strategy, giving those huge corporations another excuse to jack up the prices of whatever it is they are selling.

That's why it was perfectly fine that I slept through the whole day. The previous night, I was out drinking with a few friends. I had no work on Valentines, and since I wouldn't be driving home, I planned to get really drunk that night. Dead drunk. I was taunting the bartender, asking him for something much stronger, the strongest concoction he could make, because every drink he was giving me did not even make me tipsy. I guess that challenged him, because the last drink he gave me literally shook my senses.

I couldn't remember several events that happened that night... which is nothing new. I've had blackouts before, and as always I couldn't believe all the things that I've allegedly been doing, except for that one time when they actually caught me on video making a fool of myself. I can't help it. I feel really happy when I'm drunk. False happiness, I know... but it's that great feeling that keeps me coming back for more. No matter how bad I feel the next day, waking up with a splitting headache and puking my guts out, the happiness makes it all worthwhile. If alcohol was a person, she'd be the temptress that I'll be loving for the rest of my life, no matter how bad the consequences are.

Yesterday was the worst morning after. That was the first time that i still felt drunk even after having a few hours of sleep. Usually I just had a headache, but when I woke up that morning I thought I was still dreaming. We slept at a friend's house, and before we were unceremoniously evicted, i puked. Then when we arrived at another friend's house, i puked again. Then I slept for about seven hours. When I woke up, I still didn't feel well rested. There was this persistent salty taste in my mouth, my throat was sore from all that vomiting, and I still felt dizzy and nauseated. i tried to eat dinner, but I puked again after two spoonfuls. It had been more than twelve hours and my tummy still can't tolerate food intake. It seemed that I had gastritis. For the first time, the damage secondary to alcohol didn't seem to be the usual short term variety.

I had to cancel the plans I had. When I got home I just slept. So what if it was Valentine's? It's not like I would be missing a special occasion. When I woke up the next day, I still found it hard to eat much. Stupid gastritis. Why are you taking such a long time to heal?! It's almost 48 hours now, and I still have that salty taste in the mouth, probably resulting from some minor bleeding. And I still can't eat much. I feel bloated and I still feel like puking. I hate this feeling, and earlier I swore I wouldn't drink alcohol again. Yeah right. I wouldn't drink alcohol... for now.

I'll probably be back to my old routine next week when everything is back to normal.

Saints and Sinners

I went out with a group of people last night, just harmless fun, drinking and dancing. Even though I didn't get to sleep at all the previous night because work at the hospital was unusually "toxic", I went straight to the club after taking a bath and having a late dinner. One of them was an extremely close friend that I rarely see, so when he asked if I had any plans for the night, I said I had none even though all I wanted to do was sleep. The dance floor was extremely crowded, and I didn't get to drink much because every drink was ridiculously overpriced. Still, I had some fun. I got home just before 6 in the morning. I didn't sleep immediately because I talked with another friend for about an hour or so. By the time I put the phone down, I was completely exhausted and fell asleep in an instant.

I guess it was around 3 PM when THE father was trying to wake me up. It was time to get up so I could get ready for church. UGH. I was so sleep deprived and I had a minor headache. I would rather stay in bed than to go to church, pretending I'm some devout catholic. I was not in the mood for pretensions...So I ignored him each time he tried to wake me up. When it was almost 5 PM, he shouted at me, his voice filled with the very familiar tone of anger. Insert the obligatory curse words between sentences. "What you're doing isn't good! You have been given a second chance at life", apparently alluding to the accident that happened a month ago. "That should have been a wake up call for you to change! Most of all, you should be very thankful to the Lord! And still, you choose to stay in bed instead of hearing mass! I hope you realize what you are doing and I hope you change your ways soon!" Then I heard him slam the door.

Jesus-freakin'-christ. Mr. hypocrite is at it again. Funny how he can talk of the Lord and yet insert cuss words in the same sentence. If only he kept talking for a few seconds longer, I would've made two points clear.

1) I do believe in the existence of a superior being, an entity we refer to as "God"... but I don't believe in the Catholic faith, or any other faith for that matter. Going to church every Sunday is just an exercise in pretension. A CHORE that I'm not really fond of doing. I just go with them so that I wouldn't upset my grandparents who are overly zealous and devout catholics.

2) I didn't die because the "Lord" saved me, or because he didn't want me to die at that time, for some unknown reason... That it wasn't my time yet, that dying then wasn't part of his plan for me. Oh please. I didn't die because the airbags didn't malfunction, because the the doors didn't jam, and because the impact was probably not that strong in the first place. If they purchased the lower end model of the car, the one with no airbags, specifically tailored for the budget conscious, I would probably be a goner. Some may argue that "God" made sure that the car didn't explode upon impact, that he made sure the doors didn't jam yadda yadda yadda. Or that the Lord whispered to my parents something like they should purchase the high end model for me when the car was bought a few months ago. That was not miracle at work. That's common sense. If you had the money, why on earth would you buy the model that lacked safety features?! And even, for the sake of argument, some superior being really did save me from death and gave me this second chance at life... as I've mentioned in a previous entry, I'm not really thankful for this second chance. It would've been perfectly fine if I had died.

They apparently left already, so I just slept again. I woke up at about an hour later, ate dinner, and then slept again. It was probably around 9PM when they got home. As expected, Mr. Hypocrite aka He-who-thinks-he's-some-supreme-being woke me up. With the same raised voice, still filled with anger but not as loud, he said, "You are already old enough to know the difference between what's right and wrong, I hope you realize that what you've done is very wrong, for your sake!"

UGH. What exactly did i do that was VERY WRONG? I didn't hear mass because I felt tired. Was that such a horrible act? Was that such a grave mortal sin, even worse than theft,rape, or murder? The problem in this predominantly catholic country, people are judged on the basis of their faith. One of my grandfather's general rules is that we should never miss mass. We should go to church on Sunday no matter what. He's such a devout catholic, when the basis is the number of times a person prays, the number of times a person goes to church. So what if most of the sentences coming out of his mouth are filled with cuss words? So what if he sneaks in prostitutes inside his room when he thinks everyone is already asleep? So what if he still watches his massive porn collection regularly at the age of 81? It doesn't matter because be prays regularly and confesses his sins regularly. Never mind the fact that once he gets out of that confession booth, he reverts back to his usual ways.

The problem is, our values and our worth as a person are judged on our allegiance to religion. Those who pray regularly are good people. Those who don't are evil. It's just black and white, there are no shades of grey. How many of those devout catholics steal, cheat, rape, murder? Some of them are priests and nuns for crying out loud, the so called leaders of the catholic church! So don't they dare teach us about morality! Don't they dare accuse others as sinners when they turn a blind eye when they see the demons within their ranks! I know a lot of agnostics and atheists who act better than those catholics. I even think of myself as generally "good", even when I don't have faith. I know the difference between right and wrong, and I always do what I think is right. My conscience is intact. Helping others seem to be second nature, and I never would want to hurt others intentionally. Some even say I am too good, even if they are aware of the dastardly acts that I have done. Even though my soul has been corrupted somewhat, they still describe me as a person who's soul is "pure". And yet in the eyes of my father and grandfather, I'm such a sinful person because I chose not to hear mass. All the good I have done, all the good that I am capable of doing is completely set aside. Because according to their faith, any person who does not believe in that faith will go straight to hell no matter how much good he has done in his life.

If heaven is going to be filled with such self righteous pricks, then maybe hell wouldn't be such a bad place to go to after all.

Big Boys Don't Cry

I can count the number of times I cried in one hand, at least those times that I was old enough to actually remember. Sure, I've grown teary eyed on several occasions--- during those times when I'm overcome with despair, and as much as I'd hate to admit it... I've grown teary eyed while watching some sappy movies that I could somehow relate to. But when you ask me how many times actual tears fell from my eyes?

1) When I watched some cartoon when I was like 9 or 10 years old. It was about talking dinousaurs, their journey through a land before time. I cried when the mommy dinosaur died.

2) When I was in college, when my mom was diagnosed with an early form of cancer. It was a rapidly progressing type, and when she initially told us the news, I was initially stone faced. The following week was mother's day, and I thought of buying her a greeting card. As I was choosing the perfect card at a bookstore near my college, I thought of how much I loved her, and I thought of how I rarely spent time with her. I lived in my grandmother's house, and I only get to see her once a week. I could've been buying the last greeting card I could give her, and with that thought I couldn't help but cry in public. Good thing she was diagnosed on time, and proper treatment was given.

3) During a retreat in college, when I told a very close friend the truth, why I behaved that way, why I never thought of sharing my pain with anyone. Why I chose to carry the burden alone. As we embraced each other, I tried so hard to keep the tears from falling.

4) Late 2004. When some girl told me we were not meant to be. That we would be better off as friends. As much as I hate to admit it, I cried myself to sleep that night. There was a lot of waterworks. It makes me sick just thinking about how much tears I cried for such a horrible person. I could've shed tears for so many other girls, but I only shed tears for her.

5) Around May last year, when my grandmother had another heart attack. I was on duty at the hospital, and I couldn't just leave. My dad called me on my cellular phone and told me how bad the prognosis was. I grew up with my grandmother and she's a big part of my life. I realized how badly I was treating her, how I never showed her how much I appreciate everything she has done. I was such a selfish, arrogant brat. I dismissed her caring hands, even loathed her a times. Overcome with regret, with the fear that it might have been too late... feeling trapped within the walls of the hospital, when all I wanted to do was leave--- I just sat down on one of the chairs on that dark corridor behind the wards, as I silently cried.

And during those few times, I tried very hard to suppress my tears. Boys don't cry, crying is for wussies... shedding tears is a sign of weakness. Crying is synonymous to giving up. That's what I've been told. Better to channel those frustrations into anger. In this dog-eat-dog world, it is better to hide those emotions, than to show others that you are vulnerable.

This attitude creates a stoic whose only emotional expression is anger, says William Pollack, PhD, a renowned Harvard psychologist. A man who didn't cry as a boy will be disconnected and may try to numb his depression with alcohol, fast driving, and women. Great for a country song, not so great for living.

I'm not sure how accurate his findings are. But if there's some degree of truth in it, no wonder I turn to things that only serve to f*ck up my life even more, in this seemingly futile search for what continuously evades me.

Gamer Again

11/01/07 --> My cousin was arranging the things in her bag, and one of the things she brought out was a PSP. She must’ve seen me glanced at it, so she asked me if I wanted to borrow it. She said it was her husband’s, but she didn’t think he would mind. So I played with the games casually. The games that were preloaded didn’t interest me much, but it was better than doing nothing. A few minutes later, her daughter came. “Is that my PSP?”, she said loudly. “That’s my PSP! That’s my PSP!!!!”, she kept repeating, the intensity of her voice grew louder after each repetition. Jesus Christ. In my head, I answered “NO! This is your dad’s PSP! Not Yours!” Knowing it would be futile to keep holding on to the device, I handed it to her. Here it is, you spoiled little brat. Eat your selfish little heart out.

I never wanted to buy a PSP. I thought it was an unnecessary device, something I would never use. It’s just not practical for someone in the medical field… or so I thought. Imagine my surprise when almost all of the doctors in the hospital where I’m currently working has a PSP. And because it’s a private hospital and there are less patients as compared to government hospitals, they do have a lot of time to play with it. After a few days, I felt a bit out of place… I couldn’t join their mini PSP versus battles, and I can’t relate with their conversations regarding the latest games. And since I easily give in to peer pressure… when I received my first salary, I went straight to a nearby mall and bought myself a PSP.

Crap. As I went home, I kept wondering if I made the right decision. I wondered if I wasted my money, yet again. But as soon as I turned on the device, all doubts had disappeared. I was in gaming bliss until the wee hours of the morning. Burnout is the best game ever. LOL.

I haven’t really played videogames for years. I casually tinkered with my brother’s Playstation 2, but I never really played the games he had. The last time I was dedicated to a videogame console was with our Dreamcast, and that was 6 years ago. I used to be addicted to videogames---- I sacrificed precious study time just to keep on playing. When I turned on my PSP, it’s like a sleeping part of me had awakened.

And it’s not just a device for games! I could play music, videos, and I even put some of my favorite pictures. Playing music is comparable to the ipod, but the PSP has some visualizations--- something the ipod lacks, which is a pity since itunes has one of the best visualizations I’ve ever seen. It’s not really a necessity, I guess--- after all, who looks at the screen while listening to music? But a few bells and whistles here and there can add to a product's gloss. Watching videos is better because of the larger screen. Viewing pictures is also better. You can also zoom in and view the photos in their original sizes, something I couldn’t do with the ipod. And since it comes with WLAN, you can surf the net each time you’re within a wireless hotspot! If only the device was a bit smaller, and if it only had a whole lot more storage available at a reasonable price, it could totally replace my ipod!

As for console gaming... I doubt if a new videogame console such as an XBOX 360, Wii, or PS3 would be a wise purchase. After all, I plan to go back to residency training soon, and videogame consoles belong at home, not in a hospital... but there’s a PS3 in the department of surgery. I watched the others play occasionally, but I’m not really interested. They kept on playing the same game, Call of Duty--- and I’m not really a fan of first person combat games. But a few days ago, one of them asked me if I wanted to play. I looked at the other games, and I saw Virtua Fighter 5. I have fond memories of the previous incarnations of the game. VF2 on Saturn, and VF3 on Dreamcast. As soon as I started the game, I immediately remembered how much I loved the series. Virtua Fighter is the best fighting game ever. I was foolish to think that Soul Calibur is the best. Tekken and Soul Calibur seem shallow compared to it. Anyone who says otherwise doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Either he has never played Virtua Fighter, he’s just a casual gamer who hasn’t spent enough time with the game to discover how deep and fulfilling it is, or he’s some Tekken fanboy who can’t accept the fact that Tekken is just an inferior copycat of Virtua Fighter.

Virtua Fighter 5 is a really beautiful game. My jaw dropped when I saw some of the backgrounds. Just look at these pictures (c/o IGN.com)…

Those are actual in game screen shots... yet they still don't give the game justice. You have to see it in motion! The first time I saw Sarah Bryant in motion in VF5, her breasts jiggling a bit (hehe), it was like being reunited with your first love. LOL. Only now, she's hotter than ever! I had to grapple with some of the characters that I used to play, I found it hard to remember some of their special moves--- Especially Lion Rafale's, which was the character I often used before. I tried El Blaze, one of the new characters, and I couldn’t help but smile as I managed to pull off his special wrestling moves--- I remembered the days when I was addicted to WWF, thinking all the things I saw on TV was real. Hehe. Picture perfect graphics combined with perfect gameplay makes it the ultimate fighting game. I hogged the PS3 for hours. When one of my seniors made a comment that I was now officially an addict, I saw that as a sign that I had to give back the controller to him--- it was HIS PS3, after all. If I got carried away, I could’ve bought myself a PS3 as soon as I went home. hehe. Good thing I regained full control of my senses.

It’s great to be a gamer again. :)

IMAX 2D

Two weeks ago, I watched the movie I Am Legend in an IMAX theatre. Some said I just wasted money because there were no 3D enhancements made for the IMAX version of the movie. I think I got my money's worth though. For one thing the admission price is cheaper compared to a movie with 3D enhancements... and while other people feel cheated when they watch the so called enhanced versions of movies only to find very little 3D effects that were haphazardly put in, I didn't feel cheated when I saw I Am Legend since I knew there were no 3D enhancements in the first place... Watching a 2D movie in IMAX is still one heck of an experienced. The screen size is gigantic, and the sound effects are greatly enhanced, something I didn't notice before. Watching a movie in a THX theater would seem ordinary after watching a 2D movie in IMAX!

Okay, okay... the main reason why I wanted to watch I Am Legend in an IMAX theater so bad was because I wanted to see the exclusive 6 minute footage of The Dark Knight that was attached to the IMAX version of the film! LOL. They reportedly used a special kind of lens, with the intention of putting the film on IMAX. The result was breathtaking. Unlike I Am Legend, The entire screen was filled up, and everything was crystal clear--- watching the entire footage was so immersive, for a second I thought I was part of the action taking place on screen! After seeing that 6 minute preview, there's absolutely no way I'm watching The Dark Knight in an ordinary theater!

On a side note, it's a pity Heath Ledger passed away last week. I know his untimely demise has been blogged to death by now, and I don't intend to make an entry about it. It's just that I never thought much about him as an actor until I saw his chilling portrayal of the Joker. What a pity. Who would've thought that he could put Jack Nicholson's over the top portrayal to shame.

The Big A

I've been having recurrent respiratory tract infections for several months now. I keep on getting colds, mere days after the previous episode has resolved. I've been coughing for weeks now, and it doesn't seem to be resolving. Wounds from the accident two weeks ago seem to be taking a long time to heal. One wound even got infected, even if I took the necessary precautions to prevent infection. And I seem to grow tired easily these days.

Paranoia sets in again.

Normally, I would've dismissed such symptoms. Coughs and colds are a dime a dozen. Not all wounds heal easily. Wounds can still get infected even when all precautions are done. And I probably tire easily because I haven't been exercising for weeks now.

Still, I can't help but wonder. Am I immunocompromised? If I am, what could be the cause? It's horrifying to even entertain the idea... that my promiscuous lifestyle has finally caught up with me.

I always said I don't mind dying. Death isn't something I'm afraid of. But if I have the choice of how I would die, i definitely wouldn't want to die that way.

How Far We've Come

Artist: Matchbox Twenty
Album: Exile on Mainstream

One of my favorite songs (it was on the top 25 most played playlist on my recently demised ipod) has just become more relevant.

I'm waking up at the start of the end of the world,
but it's feeling just like every other morning before,
Now I wonder what my life is going to mean if it's gone.

The cars are moving like a half a mile an hour if that,
and started staring at the passengers who're waving goodbye
can you tell me what was ever really special about me all this time?

But I believe the world is burning to the ground
oh well I guess we're gonna find out
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come

Well I believe it all is coming to an end
oh well, I guess, we're gonna pretend,
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come

I think it turned ten o'clock but I don't really know
then I can't remember caring for an hour or so
started crying and I couldn't stop myself
I started running but there's no where to run to
I sat down on the street, took a look at myself
said where you going man you know the world is headed for hell
say all goodbyes if you've got someone you can say goodbye to

I believe the world is burning to the ground
oh well I guess we're gonna find out
let's see how far we've come (right now)
let's see how far we've come

Well I believe it all is coming to an end
oh well, I guess, we're gonna pretend,
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come

Its gone gone baby its all gone
there is no one on the corner and there's no one at home
well it was cool cool, it was just all cool
now it's over for me and it's over for you
well its gone gone baby its all gone
there's no one on the corner and there's no one at home
well it was cool cool, it was just all cool
now it's over for me and it's over for you

I believe the world is burning to the ground
oh well I guess we're gonna find out
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come

Well I believe it all is coming to an end
oh well, i guess, we're gonna pretend,
let's see how far we've come, again
let's see how far we go
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we go
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we go
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we go
let's see how far we've come

Near Death

You never can be fully prepared for the things that can happen in life. Just when you think you’ve got it all figured out, just when you think you know the whole system inside out, something completely unexpected would happen that would literally shake your very foundations.

Yesterday started out like any other day. I had the day off, so I thought of going out, maybe watch a movie. One of my closest friends, whom I haven’t seen for years, recently brought up the idea of us meeting up so that we could catch up. I thought yesterday would be a perfect opportunity. Watch a movie, then maybe coffee afterwards. The movie was okay, nothing exceptional. Instead of having coffee, we went to a bar instead --- which was fine since I’m not really a coffee person. I had a few drinks, yes--- but I was far from drunk. I guess I was a bit tipsy, but not to the point where I lose control of my senses. I could drive home in one piece with a whole lot more alcohol in my system.

When it was almost 4 AM, we decided that it was time to leave. We were on our way to her house when it happened. I admit I drive pretty fast, but during the wee hours of the morning, driving at such speed seems pretty commonplace. I hit the accelerator so that I could go faster, then just when we approached the curve ahead, the breaks didn’t function. I don’t know how many times I stepped on the break, but it just didn’t take. That part of the road was curved, and it can be difficult to see oncoming traffic. There was a vehicle approaching, I steered and lost control, and eventually hit a concrete post--- hard. Upon impact, the hood of my car burst into flames. Maybe it was reflex… I steered the vehicle again, even when I could not see where I was going because of all the flames and the broken windshield. And then we stopped. It all happened so fast, pieces of my life flashed in an instant. Everything was so surreal. For one moment, I entertained the possibility that it was all just a horrible dream... it had to be. When the vehicle stopped, I kept thinking of what should’ve been, what could’ve been… what stupid mistake I made, the exact point of miscalculation… what I did, what I shouldn't have done, what I should’ve done instead… if only I could turn back time and fix this huge mess. I seemed to be okay, and so was my friend, although she seemed a little dazed. Thank goodness the airbags were functioning properly, else we would’ve been seriously injured. I went out of the car, helped my friend out as she was complaining of pain in her chest. When we were at a safe distance, I went back and tried to salvage whatever I can get. I grabbed my ipod, which wasn’t really necessary since it was already busted beyond possible repair, as I’ve discovered later. My car, and my ipod… my two most priced material possessions, now gone.... just like hat. In an instant. I looked for my friend’s cellphone amidst the litters of shattered glass. I grabbed the car keys, which was pretty stupid. What would I use it for? I got blisters on my hand in the process because the fire was already at the dashboard by then. I tried to open the trunk to get some of my medical supplies stored back there, but it wouldn’t open. Trying to open the trunk manually with the keys instead of using the electronic system didn't occur to me. I tried to get more stuff, when someone shouted the car could explode any minute.

The explosion never happened. Flames just engulfed the whole car slowly. I was enveloped with immense sadness as I watched the car burn, as if a part of me has just died, as if a part of my life has just been taken away. By the time the firemen came, there was nothing left that can be salvaged. Just a heap of dust, rubber, and metal.

My friend was rushed to a nearby hospital. Save from several bruises, she was otherwise fine. As for me, I had several lacerations and abrasions. Some needed to be sutured but I just dressed the wounds. My neck hurts, which could mean a whiplash injury, but I did not go to a hospital to have x-rays done just to be sure. Pretty stupid management from someone who’s a doctor. It’s even more preposterous since I’ve rotated in trauma for 3 months, and I know how to manage such cases properly. Doctors really make the worst patients, don't they?

It was all over the news. First the morning news, then the footage was repeated on primetime. I hate those stupid camera men. I was told they wouldn’t show my face so I agreed to be interviewed. Most shots were indeed taken from my back, but some shots showed the side of my face! Plus, my name was repeated several times! The fact that I was a doctor was even emphasized! The whole day, my cellphone has been ringing non stop, I kept receiving endless text messages… I know these people are just concerned so I shouldn’t get miffed… but a lot of the calls are from people I’m not even close to. I can’t help but wonder if they are really concerned, or they just want to hear the news first hand. Calls from real friends--- that was heart warming. I couldn’t help but actually feel loved and wanted when one friend actually cried when she thought I had died that night. The breaking news that morning was vague after all, with no word on the status of the car’s passengers. Watching myself on TV was so embarrassing, I wanted to hide under a rock! The car agent called me, saying the car would be replaced since it was insured. But my dad doesn’t want to settle. He wants to sue. He said that break failure in a relatively brand new car is unheard of. Cars shouldn’t burst into flames upon impact. The fact that these things happened proves that the car was faulty in the first place. The minor problems we’ve seen in the past few months--- faulty power windows and various clicking sounds, supports this theory. Still, i don't really want to sue. It's not like they deliberately sabotaged the break system. The manufacturers couldn't have possibly predicted it would happen. No one wanted such a thing to happen. And the company was kind enough to voluntarily offer a settlement... but what the heck do I know about the country's legal system? It's a good thing the doors didn’t jam, and good thing the airbags were functioning, else we could’ve been trapped inside and burned alive.

But you know what’s disturbing? If I was driving alone, it would’ve been fine with me if everything ended that night... and I'm waaaay over my suicidal phase. I'm not thinking of taking my own life intentionally, but whether or not I've died that night, I wouldn't really care. The fact that I had a friend riding with me shook me from such apathetic self indulgence. I could never deliberately put a friend in harms way, and I could never live with the fact that a friend has been harmed as a result of something that I have done--- be it intentionally or accidentally. I would gladly give up my life for the life of a friend, especially since I have little regard for mine. If I was driving alone, and I lost the breaks, it would’ve been fine if I died upon impact, or slowly burned alive as I’m enveloped in flames, thinking about what a pathetic life this has been. There’s not much I’d like to cling to anyway… and among those few things, none of those would make me dwell on regret and dismay if I ended up losing them. Along with happiness and hope, all problems and pain would disappear in an instant. As for people talking or discovering the skeletons in my closet... let them talk, let them find out. It's not as if i'd still be able to give a damn once nothingness has reclaimed me. In just one instant, everything would go away. But with dumb luck, I’m still alive. I'll still be able to live through the coming days. As sure as the sun would still rise tomorrow, I’ll still be continuously bombarded with problems in this life.

Just my luck, I've been given a second chance at life.

Back in the Game

A Brand New Year. Brand new opportunities. A chance for new Beginnings.

I’m back in the game... Sort of.

I’ve finally started “moonlighting”, which was something I was planning to do months ago. Since applications for residency training in most hospitals are already closed, moonlighting became the most feasible option. I had to find a job ASAP because my funds are quickly becoming depleted. LOL. There were a lot of job openings prior to New Years Day, in anticipation of all the injuries that accompany the festivities--- firecracker injuries, mauling, vehicular accidents, etc. I got one as a surgery assistant—the fact that I already spent several months in surgery training made things easier for me to get hired. The fact that they were paying double for each hour spent in the hospital on that day made those job openings difficult to resist. Most people opt to have the day off during holidays. I’m already tired of our annual New Year’s Day traditions, so I don’t mind working. I’d rather be working and doing something productive than to start another year by being part of the same redundant and senseless traditions.

It was only supposed to be a one time deal--- initially, I only planned to work for 2 days. It turns out that one of the regular moonlighters is out of the country, and won’t be back until next month. So they asked me if I could still report for 24-48 hour duty shifts. Since I wasn't really doing anything, and the pay was much much better than my previous salary, I said yes. This is truly where the money’s at.

But it’s not something I could do long term. Probably one month, max. The salary is great, and we spend most nights in the callroom instead of working in the emergency room, operating rooms, and wards. I never thought that work can be so easy. We just watch TV, play videogames, sleep, eat, and wait to be called. I could sleep for at least four hours a day! I never missed meals! Most of the times, we just tell the nurses what to do and they do all most of the work. For the first time I experienced working with nurses who don’t act like superiors, they act as assistants! And come to think of it, we are actually overpaid! The exact opposite of my previous job! One of the doctors I worked with has actually been employed there for 10 years! He never yearned for residency training because he was so content with his job… and I could clearly see why.

But such a lifestyle isn’t for me. Maybe I’m just not used to it... maybe I’ll eventually get used to it… but I felt out of place. I don’t like just sitting around doing nothing. Several times I went to the emergency room looking for something to do, only to go back upstairs because there really was nothing to do. I never thought I could be bored to death while working.

I also felt shackled... paralyzed. I felt like some puppet that can’t move on its own. In many cases, we can’t decide on our own. We have to call the consultants and ask them what we should do, or ask permission if we think we should do something. The final word is theirs, we are just there to follow and carry out their orders. Two nights ago one patient came in with gunshot wounds. Since there were no bullets retained inside, and no internal organs were damaged, I was about to debride the entry and exit wounds and send the patient home. Then one of my co-workers told me that we can’t do that. We have to admit the patient because only consultants can do what I was planning to do. And it can’t be done in the emergency room, it had to be done in the operating room. Something as simple as that had to be done in the operating room. Go figure.

It also became clear that I’m not suited for work in a private hospital. I pity the patients who can’t get treated because they lacked funds. I pity those patients who can’t even get discharged and transfer to a cheaper hospital for the same reason. I have a problem with certain policies, that patients should be admitted even when there are no indications for admission, why certain forms of treatment should be administered even when there are cheaper and more practical alternatives--- because in a private hospital, health becomes business. Everything becomes more financially oriented and less service oriented. It’s a totally different ballgame, with rules that I may never get used to.