Sunday, December 25, 2011

Crank

Minsan iniisip ko na sana ay pwede rin akong magka-regla. Ito ang sinabi ko kay Amoketh isang araw habang kumakain kami ng sushi sa ambulance parking lot. Sa mga nakalipas na araw kasi ay napapansin kong masyado akong cranky. Kaunting bagay lang ay para na akong pinagsasakluban ng langit at lupa (at dahil fun gamitin ang expression na iyon). Halimbawa, madiskobre ko lang habang naglalakad ako papasok sa ospital na maluwag at bacon-ish pala ang medyas ko dahil unti-unti na silang bumababa sa sakong ay parang gusto ko nang mamatay. Exaj. Hindi naman mamatay. Dahil pag sinabi mong gusto mo nang mamatay o pag sinabi mong feeling mo mamamatay ka na ay nakakainsulto ito sa mga totoong mamamatay na pero ayaw pa nila. Pumoprofound.

Back to wanting to have regla. Dahil pag may regla ka ay kahit papaano meron kang sisisihin na organic sa pagiging masungit. Dati ay inaaccuse lang ng mga tao ang mga babae na nagsusungit-sungitan pag may regla, pero ilang kaibigang babae ko na rin ang napapansin kong specially masungit sa spesipikong linggo ng buwan. Halimbawa, ang lagi kong kasamang si ****** ay masungit, umiiyak nang wala sa oras, at lethargic all at the same time pag last week of the month na. At totoo nga, ito ang linggo ng kanyang regla.

O baka dahil lagi lang akong gutom dahil sa abnormal na oras ng tulog at trabaho whine whine whine. Nung isang araw, habang nagkiklinik ay inatake ako ng matinding gutom. In fact nakita ko palang ang mataas na pile ng charts ay nagutom na ako lalo ng husto. Ang mga pasyente sa aming klinik ay medyo galante in general, at naisip ko na since magpapasko naman ay baka mabiyayaan ako ng pwedeng kainin sa oras na yun. Pero, habang palakad-lakad ako sa klinik ay napansin kong ang ibang fellows ay parang may panederya na sa mga lamesa nila, puno na ang mga ito ng mga cake, brownies, Wafu, at lahat ng varieties ng hopya. So far, for the day, ika-pitong pasyente ko na out of the twelve ay wala pa rin sumasagot sa gutom ko. In pure gutom, in pure kakapalan, in my head: please please kahit tasty bread with sandwich spread, and Plus King Size, basta pwede kong kainin RIGHT NOW. Oo, pathetic na kung pathetic, pero gutom na gutom na talaga ako.

Finally, ang ika-walong pasyente ay nag-abot ng supot pagkatapos ng kimo. Supot! Kinuha ko ito, nagpasalamat, naglaway, at naghanda nang tumalikod at kainin ang mga posibilidad na ito: sandwich/donut/hopia/tinapayan special. Hindi muna ako tatawag ng next patient, kakainin ko muna ito.

Binuksan ko ang supot. Tinignan ang nasa loob.

Achara.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Thymes and The Lochia

Met Thymes and Lochia for dinner in kantunan last night. Eat-outs with these people are few and far between so we had to catch-up with all the stories really fast and put up three threads of conversation at the same time.

Thymes has been mentioned quite frequently in this blog. A few years ago while walking along Orosa Lloydie saw the two of us walking together. In the middle of the street, with lots of people around, Lloydie asked, "Nag-sex kayo?" We just shrugged. Last year Thymes was the star in their section's dance extravaganza where she played a demon who made sampa over one of her male co-fellows' shoulders. Presently Thymes is an incoming senior fellow in the section of cardiology, or as her t-shirt last night said, Cardiologist ng Bayan.

The other cardiologist ng bayan is Lochia. Lochia has not always been known as Lochia. He has earlier been known in this blog as Pyro, but eventually JD-Lu has christened him Lochia and until now I call him Lochia in real life. Lochia is popular for his powerful, remarkable lines such as "Ako ang pinakamakapangyarihang doktor sa ospital na ito ngayong gabi!" and "Ang katulong ba na lumayas, pag bumalik ay tatanggapin pa ng amo?" Truly nothing is more powerful than Lochia, and we should affix an article in his name and call him The Lochia.

We retired to Whore House. Thymes brought up that as she was watching the incoming fellows' interviews she felt a little sheepish as she remembered her own answers then. When asked "Why cardiology?" the current applicants would say the usual but not necessarily untrue stuff such as "to serve; no cardiologist in our provice; etc". Thymes remembered her answer two years ago, which she has said with such deep earnestness. Why cardiology? Thymes: Because it's glamorous!

We then asked The Lochia what his answer last year was. Truly The Lochia must have never failed to astound. This was The Lochia's answer to the question: Why cardiology?

The Lochia: (in front of the top cardiologists of the country) I've been thinking about that question since last night, because I knew you were going to ask that question. But you know what, cardiology is not the question. It is... the answer.

*slow clap* *slow clap* *slow clap* *slow clap*

Sunday, December 18, 2011

One Day At A Time

Attended this morning the baptism of Papa Ruter's super cute daughter in Fernbrook Alabang. Ruter is one of my residency batchmates, and you might remember him from my post where he ripped off his shirt in our sweltering callroom, lifted the entire damn airconditioner unit, and rammed it against the hole in the room all by himself. He is the sort of person who just does what needs to be done while everyone around him is whining, in that case, we were all whining that it was so hot when is the technician going to get here to put up the aircondition. I thought I got into a wrong chapel as there was no baptism, there was instead a huge furry dog with people dressed in Middle Earth costume while a couple was getting married. And then I realized I was two hours late so they were of course already dining somewhere else.

And already seated were my residency batchmates who are some of the most interesting people I know. Just because I want to I'd enumerate them: Lloydie with his wife Rhose, Hurricane Katrina, Fulet Esplana, Tits, Jd-Lu with Beh, Tessieloopagooparoop, JLL, Renrerenrenren, Uni-Horned Beef Jerky Alanis Whore, Vampirella, and Lochia. We suddenly remembered it was also Ruter's 4th year wedding anniversary when he showed us the video of his wedding in 2007. We were all invited then, but none of us attended the wedding, being caught up then in the first days of residency.

In the midst of it all people were discussing plans on where to practice medicine after completing fellowship, plans of marriage, further training abroad, hospital stocks and bonds and visiting privileges and stuff, kids, our parents' medical conditions, kids, money, and all these adult stuff. These things make my head spin. I have no plans for the future whatsofuckingever, I don't know what should ever become of me, and my long term goal is good only for the next meal. Kumbaga sa insulin, short-acting at pag naubos na ay intayin na lang mag diabetic coma. In times like these I find solace in the fantastic Snoopy's Street Fair game where Charlie Brown succinctly explains his new philosophy in life: I will only dread one day at a time.


Speaking of one day at a time, Oxali has recently seen the movie One Day. Grainy pirated download, of course. Oxali is an Oncology co-fellow. While in the car on our way to our Christmas party Oxali revealed (spoilers!) that the girl in the movie One Day dies in the end.

"CANCER?!?!" four of us said in unison.
"Hinde, nasagasaan sya ng truck," Oxali said.

Not everything is about cancer.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

May 1 Syndrome

Jeff Libuit has reminded us that tomorrow would be their last day in residency, in his succinct Facebook shout-out which goes "last day na bukas".

We envy him, and all the residents finishing up tomorrow, because once again they would experience the May 1 Syndrome on December 16, ie, waking up with a start at 7 am only to realize you could wake up at 2pm, or not at all. That you could choose not to take a bath! Or brush your teeth! And you can eat your parents' food! And not pay anything! And your hand starts to itch to write something, something really long that requires many pages, and then you become happy that you don't fucking have to! And you remember that there are thousands of pages to read for the upcoming boards, but you tell yourself rightfully that you could give yourself a break, at least for a day! Or two! Or at least until the holiday ends!

Ending residency is surely a sad event, as things would never be the same, and the fantastic stuff we used to take for granted would no longer be there, such as the callroom bed, and responsible batchmates who would asikaso papers that need to be signed and you would only need to sign. Come hellowship everyone would be... running. You would be hard pressed to tell anyone a funny anecdote in full, because everyone's Amazing-Running to finish at 5pm and by the time you get that leisurely time together after weeks on end, said anecdote is no longer funny. Last year we thought we would all be getting senti and stuff on the last day, but the toxicity of finishing things that needed to be finished, moving out of the callroom, endorsifications, and other stuff turned senti mode into, what else, whining. "HUUUUUUNGH!" Djana and I had whined in the ambulance parking lot as we were eating sushi. But all in all we did get quite senti, specially with the fantastic send-off our junior residents then gave us.

A temporary farewell and congratulations to our graduating IM residents!

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Gunk

After taking strong, bitter coffee at five in the morning I rushed to the bus stop and dozed off a few minutes after taking my seat and paying. I woke up somewhere in Quirino, only to feel something crawling up my left leg inside my jeans. It crawled up, up, up, until it reached my thigh. The bus is decrepit and obviously harbors all sorts of bugs, so I squirmed and squirmed and squirmed as I realized it could only be my personal nemesis, the cockroach, who found the perfect opportunity make me look like an idiot as I squirmed and squirmed and squirmed as I tried to make it pagpag down my leg which was quite impossible as it was a fairly tight pair of jeans, so I squirmed, etc.

I had no choice. The cockroach was rapidly climbing the region no cockroach should ever climb. So as soon as I felt its body's outline under my pants in the thigh area, I squished it. Yes, I fucking squished it, and I heard the crackly squish and felt the squishy goo as the cockroach bleeping died!!! Now that it was immobile it was only a matter of making pagpag my leg and it rolled down and fell on the floor. There it was, the dead brown cockroach with tan stripes, squished as fuck.

Normally I would freak out inside my head, as nothing elicits a supersonic girly scream from me other than cockroaches. Specially those that fly and those with moving antennae. However, the situation required me to be calm, or else I would have looked like a frantic character about to die in the movie Saw, and the cockroach would have succeeded in making me look like a frantic character about to die in the movie Saw. The bus finally came to a stop in Pedro Gil, I leisurely ate breakfast in McDo while using their WiFi to receive the lavish gifts Uni-Horned Beef Jerky Alanis Whore and Smurfbarry have given my Snoopy's Street Fair, all the while trying to ignore the icky gunky feel on my thigh. I then walked back to my dorm, took off my pants and told myself as I looked at my bare thigh: Now THAT is gunk.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Chocolate Coins. In A Net!

I was looking for Smores in the supermarket because just five years ago Smores was available even in Mini-Stop but now you can't seem to find it anywhere. It's relatively cheap, maybe because most of the bar is taken up by a more pedestrian marshmallow. This is one of those posts being typed after skipping a meal, about an event that happened after skipping a meal. I heard from someone that you should eat a full meal before going to the supermarket to lower your purchasing desires, so it was probably not a good idea that I went there after a weekend of roundsing.

So there was no Smores. And for more, I've remembered that rent was due today, so I had exactlly P50 to spend in the supermarket. Fun fun fun. Back in college Mrs. Therese and I had this Comm 2 (COMM 2! AHAHAHAHA!) activity where we had to go to the mall and spend only fifty bucks each. It was apparently a training for FP, ie, Future Poverty.

And what should I see but... chocolate coins. In gold foil! Chocolate coins in gold foil in a small net (lambat) have been a source of comfort in my childhood, because they are just so golly gee whiz cool. But they have to be in a net. The Goya Chocolate Coins are in a regular plastic wrapper. I nevertheless got it and consumed the whole thing in a few minutes. It would have been more fun if they were in a lambat, but poverty precludes such kaartehan.

Come to think of it, poverty precludes so much kaartehan in life, making you realize that they are, indeed, just kaartehan. For instance, I used to buy a lot of brand new fiction books in National or Powerbooks. I would say that ooooh I love the smell of the paper of a freshly printed book! So if I see for instance, a downloadable soft copy of The Marabou Stork Nightmares, or a Booksale copy of Raise High The Roof Beams Carpenters, I would scoff that I would just buy a brand new copy because of the smell of the fresh ink and paper of a brand new book! KAARTEHAN! And the hard cover ones, those with the jagged edges, they are so quaint and I love them so! KAARTEHAN! Or an expensive pen with point something specifications, because the pen dictates thought processes and my thought processes would only be as smooth as the way the pen runs on paper. KAARTEHAN!!!!

You were right, parents, you were right.