We are all simply passing through this life. We only have one run. No matter how dismal our present circumstances are now or how vague the future seems to be,the most important question to ask is: DO WE TRUST GOD ENOUGH TO LET GO?
To let go of the past...to let go of the future...to let go of the fear...to let go of whatever else is keeping us from accessing the POWER OF THE PRESENT.
Faith as small as a mustard seed can move a mountain...but what I think is more important to believe in in this life...what should be the primary focus of our faith... is that GOD was, is and will always be with us.
BUT will I be able to trust God enough to give Him full control of my life?
Monday, September 7, 2009
RIGHT TO BE UNDERSTOOD?
Having problems does not give anyone the RIGHT TO BE UNDERSTOOD even when wrong, deceitful, manipulative, unloving and arrogant. Having problems is never an excuse for bad character.
Having problems does not excuse anyone from being ungrateful. Sincere help should NEVER be viewed as if it is a fulfillment of an obligation but always a FAVOR and every favor. no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, must be remembered with gratitude.
All of us have problems but none is ENTITLED to help. To think we DESERVE to be helped, makes us forget how to be appreciative when help is given.
Nobody owes us understanding. We can only hope to be understood. It is not right to blame anyone for not understanding. It is not right to use our problems to cover for our shortcomings.
It is said that we can only get what we give...to get understanding, we must first seek to understand.
Having problems does not excuse anyone from being ungrateful. Sincere help should NEVER be viewed as if it is a fulfillment of an obligation but always a FAVOR and every favor. no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, must be remembered with gratitude.
All of us have problems but none is ENTITLED to help. To think we DESERVE to be helped, makes us forget how to be appreciative when help is given.
Nobody owes us understanding. We can only hope to be understood. It is not right to blame anyone for not understanding. It is not right to use our problems to cover for our shortcomings.
It is said that we can only get what we give...to get understanding, we must first seek to understand.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
SAYING YES
THE PAULINIAN AS A BEARER OF CHRIST’S LIGHT THROUGH EDUCATION
When I was invited to be a recognition day speaker a few years back i declined. I felt I was not befitting to be an “inspirational” speaker.
My well of wisdom and experience seemed too shallow to draw anything from.
On my personal evaluation, there was nothing in my past extraordinary enough to share, much less to “inspire”.
On top of it i knew it was going to be difficult speaking before my former teachers and mentors . Being a full blooded paulinian and an honor student, there will be expectations which I was afraid I might not meet.
But God apparently had other plans for me.
A few days before I received the invitation to speak today, I was made to realize that I have been setting limits to what God can do through me by refusing the opportunities he placed before me.
Somebody once said that God is a god of opportunities. He gives what our hearts’ desire in the form of opportunities.
When we desire to be kinder, god does not give us kindness but opportunities to be kind.
When we desire to be more patient, god does not give us patience but the opportunity to be patient.
If we desire wealth, god does not give us gold, or money but opportunities to acquire them.
If we desire to be healthy, god does not give us health but the opportunity to be able to eat right and to live right.
Probably because I grew up reading fairy tales, I wanted god to be like the fairy godmother who can bring forth whatever I wanted with a simple wave of her wand.
For so long, I realized I have been telling him this is what I want, and this is how you are suppose to give it to me. And that was shameful for I owe him my very breath. And He owes me nothing.
Everything I am is his. Everything I have, he gave them to me. What have I given back in return?
So I promised to say yes to every opportunity where I can be used as his instrument , and like the theme, be a bearer of his light. And god did not waste time.
A few days later, I received an invitation from Mr Riconalla to be the honor’s day speaker. Although my mind and my heart told me I cannot do it, I had to say yes.
It is hard to perform in public a role you feel so ill-equipped to do.
The topic was not medicine or cancer. It was something outside my comfort zone and it was hard not to be bothered by the extent of how my words might damage or enhance my reputation but to place more emphasis on the approval from men is to forfeit God’s approval.
I consoled myself with the thought that He is greater than my fears. I knew he will see me through.
Since the time I accepted the invitation, I have been telling god, “ok, i did my part. I said yes . Please make my speech.”
But up until late last night, I did not have a constructed speech. Ordinarily I would have panicked but again I knew I was simply the messenger. The message will come through.
To the honor students, I know how difficult it is to be keeping up to the expectations of people.
But you have to learn not to take all these titles seriously lest you make them your identity.
I have felt the elation of triumph and the depression and frustration of failure, and by His’ grace I have seen the impermanency of both emotions.
Taking these accolades seriously will trap you in the incessant stream of trying to prove yourself and contentment will be elusive.
Life will be miserable which something God never wanted.
The power to succeed comes from God.
Your ability to excel well is a gift from god.
This gift is not earned but is something He decided to give thus anything we give back to him is merely a giving back of His own abundant blessings.
Simply giving back what he already owns.
We are all human beings.
There is that human identity in us that is defined in terms understandable or acceptable to the world. Mr X, son of Don Y, owner of Building G, recipient of so and so award... But apart from these, there is the REAL you...the BEING in the human being . Many call it the soul.
Unfortunately, many of the things applauded by this world is harmful to the soul.
Having a good brain will not be enough to keep you from making bad choices.
King Solomon, the smartest man, although gifted with a high IQ, fell short in the area of moral discernment.
The ability to make good decisions demands a heart and a soul devoted to God...demands nourishing the BEING.
Learn to recognize these awards for what they truly are, simply titles accorded to you for a job well done at this particular time.
They do not and should never define your being, the essence of who you really are. Ultimately, it is not our credentials but our commitment to a higher purpose that will create our effectiveness in the world.
To those who failed to make it in the honor list now, seek out your gift. We were not all made to excel in the academics.
Skills for living are not as much acquired as they are received in the form of grace.
God has a plan for all of us and he has given you everything you need to carry out that plan.
In the end, we will be made accountable for what we have done with what was given to us... and not for what we don’t have.
It is thus our responsibility to seek out our gifts, seek out what He has intended us to be good at and acknowledge them.
In the end, we will not be judged by our sins because He has already forgiven them. But we will be judged by our stewardship of those things He has given us.
Life indeed is a continuous journey of self awareness and only those who humble themselves to seek will find.
God intended us to make an impact in this world that is filled with hurting humanity. He never intended us to be museum pieces to take on dust.
When we pray unceasingly, little by little he takes what is not in sync in our lives and puts them into sync until we can take a big breathe and say, yes, this is the way it is supposed to be.
To the parents and teachers, congratulations for taking hold of the opportunity to make a difference in another person’s life. True love has always been unconditional.
Let us cease to imprison God by the laws we created for ourselves.
Surrendering means letting go of the laws we create everyday...what we can do or not do, what we can say or not say, whom we can love or not love, whom we can forgive or not forgive.
So thank you to the high school department for giving me this opportunity to grow. To god be all the glory. Thank you.
DR. GEENA MACALUA, MD
,
When I was invited to be a recognition day speaker a few years back i declined. I felt I was not befitting to be an “inspirational” speaker.
My well of wisdom and experience seemed too shallow to draw anything from.
On my personal evaluation, there was nothing in my past extraordinary enough to share, much less to “inspire”.
On top of it i knew it was going to be difficult speaking before my former teachers and mentors . Being a full blooded paulinian and an honor student, there will be expectations which I was afraid I might not meet.
But God apparently had other plans for me.
A few days before I received the invitation to speak today, I was made to realize that I have been setting limits to what God can do through me by refusing the opportunities he placed before me.
Somebody once said that God is a god of opportunities. He gives what our hearts’ desire in the form of opportunities.
When we desire to be kinder, god does not give us kindness but opportunities to be kind.
When we desire to be more patient, god does not give us patience but the opportunity to be patient.
If we desire wealth, god does not give us gold, or money but opportunities to acquire them.
If we desire to be healthy, god does not give us health but the opportunity to be able to eat right and to live right.
Probably because I grew up reading fairy tales, I wanted god to be like the fairy godmother who can bring forth whatever I wanted with a simple wave of her wand.
For so long, I realized I have been telling him this is what I want, and this is how you are suppose to give it to me. And that was shameful for I owe him my very breath. And He owes me nothing.
Everything I am is his. Everything I have, he gave them to me. What have I given back in return?
So I promised to say yes to every opportunity where I can be used as his instrument , and like the theme, be a bearer of his light. And god did not waste time.
A few days later, I received an invitation from Mr Riconalla to be the honor’s day speaker. Although my mind and my heart told me I cannot do it, I had to say yes.
It is hard to perform in public a role you feel so ill-equipped to do.
The topic was not medicine or cancer. It was something outside my comfort zone and it was hard not to be bothered by the extent of how my words might damage or enhance my reputation but to place more emphasis on the approval from men is to forfeit God’s approval.
I consoled myself with the thought that He is greater than my fears. I knew he will see me through.
Since the time I accepted the invitation, I have been telling god, “ok, i did my part. I said yes . Please make my speech.”
But up until late last night, I did not have a constructed speech. Ordinarily I would have panicked but again I knew I was simply the messenger. The message will come through.
To the honor students, I know how difficult it is to be keeping up to the expectations of people.
But you have to learn not to take all these titles seriously lest you make them your identity.
I have felt the elation of triumph and the depression and frustration of failure, and by His’ grace I have seen the impermanency of both emotions.
Taking these accolades seriously will trap you in the incessant stream of trying to prove yourself and contentment will be elusive.
Life will be miserable which something God never wanted.
The power to succeed comes from God.
Your ability to excel well is a gift from god.
This gift is not earned but is something He decided to give thus anything we give back to him is merely a giving back of His own abundant blessings.
Simply giving back what he already owns.
We are all human beings.
There is that human identity in us that is defined in terms understandable or acceptable to the world. Mr X, son of Don Y, owner of Building G, recipient of so and so award... But apart from these, there is the REAL you...the BEING in the human being . Many call it the soul.
Unfortunately, many of the things applauded by this world is harmful to the soul.
Having a good brain will not be enough to keep you from making bad choices.
King Solomon, the smartest man, although gifted with a high IQ, fell short in the area of moral discernment.
The ability to make good decisions demands a heart and a soul devoted to God...demands nourishing the BEING.
Learn to recognize these awards for what they truly are, simply titles accorded to you for a job well done at this particular time.
They do not and should never define your being, the essence of who you really are. Ultimately, it is not our credentials but our commitment to a higher purpose that will create our effectiveness in the world.
To those who failed to make it in the honor list now, seek out your gift. We were not all made to excel in the academics.
Skills for living are not as much acquired as they are received in the form of grace.
God has a plan for all of us and he has given you everything you need to carry out that plan.
In the end, we will be made accountable for what we have done with what was given to us... and not for what we don’t have.
It is thus our responsibility to seek out our gifts, seek out what He has intended us to be good at and acknowledge them.
In the end, we will not be judged by our sins because He has already forgiven them. But we will be judged by our stewardship of those things He has given us.
Life indeed is a continuous journey of self awareness and only those who humble themselves to seek will find.
God intended us to make an impact in this world that is filled with hurting humanity. He never intended us to be museum pieces to take on dust.
When we pray unceasingly, little by little he takes what is not in sync in our lives and puts them into sync until we can take a big breathe and say, yes, this is the way it is supposed to be.
To the parents and teachers, congratulations for taking hold of the opportunity to make a difference in another person’s life. True love has always been unconditional.
Let us cease to imprison God by the laws we created for ourselves.
Surrendering means letting go of the laws we create everyday...what we can do or not do, what we can say or not say, whom we can love or not love, whom we can forgive or not forgive.
So thank you to the high school department for giving me this opportunity to grow. To god be all the glory. Thank you.
DR. GEENA MACALUA, MD
,
Thursday, February 5, 2009
For Dr Vera Cruz
This afternoon was one of those lazy afternoons in the faculty room when you have so much to do that you simply have to give up and spend your time asking silly questions like, "WHAT WILL MAKE YOU TRULY HAPPY ?"
Dr Vera Cruz , who introduced me into this world of blogging and thus is my blogger mentor yoda, pondered on the question for awhile and answered, "What will make me truly happy is to see you writing again!"
And so here I am. My entry after a long hiatus ... all for Dr. Vera Cruz ... a fulfillment of her request to be "truly happy". : )
And to all of us who will be spending the valentines day alone, cheers!
Dr Vera Cruz , who introduced me into this world of blogging and thus is my blogger mentor yoda, pondered on the question for awhile and answered, "What will make me truly happy is to see you writing again!"
And so here I am. My entry after a long hiatus ... all for Dr. Vera Cruz ... a fulfillment of her request to be "truly happy". : )
And to all of us who will be spending the valentines day alone, cheers!
Monday, November 17, 2008
A chapter a day of comedy
I came upon an article in daily bread which challenged the reader to read a chapter of proverbs everyday for one month. I have never read proverbs in its entirety before so I decided to take up the challenge. I was fascinated by the first chapter and proceeded to read 4 or 5 chapters more. I had to prompt myself to stop lest I would be defeating the purpose of the challenge.
What enthralled me?
The proverbs was written several years ago and its authors belonged to a different race and society yet what it chronicled can be observed today... by us, Filipinos! Collectively as human beings we have not changed through the years. Feelings of hate, lust, haughtiness, gluttony, envy, jealousy and greed are all seemingly ingrained in us. Is this what is being referred to as being born with an "original sin"?
The book of proverbs for me, is a guide on how to maneuver well in this world created by the human ego. It calls for an unrelenting search for wisdom and understanding which unfortunately we were not born with. In essence, the world has been playing the same drama over and over again and the Book somehow calls us not to buy into the worldly drama. Situated within its pages are simple truths that even an unbeliever will agree. Within its pages lies the comedy that is the human life.
What enthralled me?
The proverbs was written several years ago and its authors belonged to a different race and society yet what it chronicled can be observed today... by us, Filipinos! Collectively as human beings we have not changed through the years. Feelings of hate, lust, haughtiness, gluttony, envy, jealousy and greed are all seemingly ingrained in us. Is this what is being referred to as being born with an "original sin"?
The book of proverbs for me, is a guide on how to maneuver well in this world created by the human ego. It calls for an unrelenting search for wisdom and understanding which unfortunately we were not born with. In essence, the world has been playing the same drama over and over again and the Book somehow calls us not to buy into the worldly drama. Situated within its pages are simple truths that even an unbeliever will agree. Within its pages lies the comedy that is the human life.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
PROVERBS 31 woman
A Proverbs 31 woman is said to be worth far more than rubies!
A woman who is able to keep an unruffled and systematic household;
attends to all the needs of her children and husband;
adeptly handles her husband's earnings and at the same time able to earn on her own;
provides material luxuries;
supports her husband's career, allowing him to shine and receive all the respect, fame and glory; gets involved in charitable works and community service;
ably does physical tasks; AND
despite all of the above demands, remain poised, beautiful and SANE is definitely worth more than rubies BUT is likely as rare as the rarest and most expensive gem in the world, the Red diamond!
The man who is looking for a quintessential Proverbs 31 woman is likely not looking for a woman but a man. :) (pun definitely intended)
Happy Mothers day to all the women who fall short as a proverbs 31 woman but who are doing a pretty good job juggling family life and career!
Here's Proverbs 31:
11 A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies.
A woman who is able to keep an unruffled and systematic household;
attends to all the needs of her children and husband;
adeptly handles her husband's earnings and at the same time able to earn on her own;
provides material luxuries;
supports her husband's career, allowing him to shine and receive all the respect, fame and glory; gets involved in charitable works and community service;
ably does physical tasks; AND
despite all of the above demands, remain poised, beautiful and SANE is definitely worth more than rubies BUT is likely as rare as the rarest and most expensive gem in the world, the Red diamond!
The man who is looking for a quintessential Proverbs 31 woman is likely not looking for a woman but a man. :) (pun definitely intended)
Happy Mothers day to all the women who fall short as a proverbs 31 woman but who are doing a pretty good job juggling family life and career!
Here's Proverbs 31:
11 A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies.
11 Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value.
12 She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life.
13 She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands.
14 She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar.
15 She gets up while it is still dark; she provides food for her family
and portions for her servant girls.
16 She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.
17 She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks.
18 She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night.
19 In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers.
20 She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy.
21 When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet.
22 She makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple.
23 Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.
24 She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes.
25 She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.
26 She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
27 She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.
28 Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her:
29 "Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all."
30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
31 Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Market Day in Pacuan
One thing I missed most about being a community doctor is the market day. It is the one day of the week where people from the neighboring sitios go to Pacuan to sell their produce and buy provisions.
A large crowd often gathers in the hospital to seek consultation and/or hide from the often scorching mid-day sun. The conversations are always interesting and provocative because of the diversed background of the crowd. It's the one day of the week when you can keep abreast of the latest news in the neighboring areas like how many piglets were born from Nang Nita's swine, who married who, or who was recently caught cheating and chased with a bolo. The conversation pieces ranged from comedy, action, drama, suspense to horror. Definitely, it is my most favorite day of the week!!!
Early in the morning, one can already hear the mangled engine of the only 10 wheeeler ascending to Pacuan from the town of La Libertad. It carries with it a variety of goods like rice, livestocks, fish, canned goods and other items ordered by the businessmen in Pacuan. Along the way, the drivers pick up passengers and charge them between 10-20 pesos. The passengers and the goods are all cramped at the back of the rickety truck which seemed to lose a screw every time it encountered a hump ( and there were a lot of humps). Nevertheless, you can see the passengers looking all excited in their best sunday clothes. It seemed that within the rusty, dirty, smelly confines of the back of the truck and amidst the animals, is a world of friendship. Definitely, it is my favorite day of the week!!!
By seven am, you can see half naked men running barefooted with baskets on their heads full of bread from the only bakery in Pacuan. I call them "generic" breads because they come in different forms, are called by different names but tasted the same. Agile in barefoot, they can adeptly evade the protruding rocks and maintain the baskets on their heads while waving to the ladies or casually throwing an invitation to a lady or two to the local dance. Indeed, these local Adonises run with confidence and pride as though they were carrying the olympic torch. The oblation run occurs only once every year in UP but in Pacuan, it is every sunday. Definitely, it is my favorite day of the week!!!
Turning towards the distant mountains, moving dots slowly transform into people and livestock. To get the best deal, one has to learn the art of "mata-mata" as a weighing scale is rarely used. To bargain for a chicken for example, first, you have to learn how to hold the chicken well so as not to inadvertedly lose or choke it, then learn to feel your way through the feathers to its keel and assess if it has enough meat. After wrestling with the poor animal, you must learn to declare your price as confidently as you could even if you have no idea what you're talking about. If the trader accepts your bid, then you become the proud owner of a chicken "bisaya". Almost every sunday at lunch, my gut is treated to a delicious, satisfying and scrumptious "tinolang manok bisaya"! Definitely, it is my favorite day of the week!!!
The marketplace by noon becomes saturated with people and animals. In one corner are the ladies selling bagoong(shrimp paste) stored in "taros". Using their bare hands, they scoop the bagoong into a coffee glass which they use as measuring cup and using the same hands, they wipe off sweat, scratch an itch and make hi-fi when they see me. Public health officials might cringe at this but hey, this is Pacuan. As I was told by one vendor, " Doc ang kagaw naa ra na sa libro" ( Germs only exist in books). Now, who can argue with that when you have boiled unripe banana begging for bagoong!
At another corner, one can see ladies selling supposedly "relief" goods...secondhand clothes from abroad. I cant help but smile whenever I see men and women wearing wool jackets as if they are ready to scale Mount Everest! Or a lola in a sexy, backless cocktail dress that was probably once worn by Paris Hilton!
But my personal favorite are the sugar coated peanuts called "Pinyatos". It is a challenge on how many pieces you can eat before all the sugar will make you crave for water. I enjoy breaking them into little pieces, extracting the peanut and leaving the caramelized sugar for the ants. Certainly, market day must be the favorite day of the members of the entomology kingdom.
Late in the afternoon, the market slowly becomes quiet. Pacuan slowly returns to it's somber state with the stillness of the night occasionally interrupted by the howling of dogs. Market day is always exhausting but I always retire looking forward to the next market day.
Oh the good old days...
A large crowd often gathers in the hospital to seek consultation and/or hide from the often scorching mid-day sun. The conversations are always interesting and provocative because of the diversed background of the crowd. It's the one day of the week when you can keep abreast of the latest news in the neighboring areas like how many piglets were born from Nang Nita's swine, who married who, or who was recently caught cheating and chased with a bolo. The conversation pieces ranged from comedy, action, drama, suspense to horror. Definitely, it is my most favorite day of the week!!!
Early in the morning, one can already hear the mangled engine of the only 10 wheeeler ascending to Pacuan from the town of La Libertad. It carries with it a variety of goods like rice, livestocks, fish, canned goods and other items ordered by the businessmen in Pacuan. Along the way, the drivers pick up passengers and charge them between 10-20 pesos. The passengers and the goods are all cramped at the back of the rickety truck which seemed to lose a screw every time it encountered a hump ( and there were a lot of humps). Nevertheless, you can see the passengers looking all excited in their best sunday clothes. It seemed that within the rusty, dirty, smelly confines of the back of the truck and amidst the animals, is a world of friendship. Definitely, it is my favorite day of the week!!!
By seven am, you can see half naked men running barefooted with baskets on their heads full of bread from the only bakery in Pacuan. I call them "generic" breads because they come in different forms, are called by different names but tasted the same. Agile in barefoot, they can adeptly evade the protruding rocks and maintain the baskets on their heads while waving to the ladies or casually throwing an invitation to a lady or two to the local dance. Indeed, these local Adonises run with confidence and pride as though they were carrying the olympic torch. The oblation run occurs only once every year in UP but in Pacuan, it is every sunday. Definitely, it is my favorite day of the week!!!
Turning towards the distant mountains, moving dots slowly transform into people and livestock. To get the best deal, one has to learn the art of "mata-mata" as a weighing scale is rarely used. To bargain for a chicken for example, first, you have to learn how to hold the chicken well so as not to inadvertedly lose or choke it, then learn to feel your way through the feathers to its keel and assess if it has enough meat. After wrestling with the poor animal, you must learn to declare your price as confidently as you could even if you have no idea what you're talking about. If the trader accepts your bid, then you become the proud owner of a chicken "bisaya". Almost every sunday at lunch, my gut is treated to a delicious, satisfying and scrumptious "tinolang manok bisaya"! Definitely, it is my favorite day of the week!!!
The marketplace by noon becomes saturated with people and animals. In one corner are the ladies selling bagoong(shrimp paste) stored in "taros". Using their bare hands, they scoop the bagoong into a coffee glass which they use as measuring cup and using the same hands, they wipe off sweat, scratch an itch and make hi-fi when they see me. Public health officials might cringe at this but hey, this is Pacuan. As I was told by one vendor, " Doc ang kagaw naa ra na sa libro" ( Germs only exist in books). Now, who can argue with that when you have boiled unripe banana begging for bagoong!
At another corner, one can see ladies selling supposedly "relief" goods...secondhand clothes from abroad. I cant help but smile whenever I see men and women wearing wool jackets as if they are ready to scale Mount Everest! Or a lola in a sexy, backless cocktail dress that was probably once worn by Paris Hilton!
But my personal favorite are the sugar coated peanuts called "Pinyatos". It is a challenge on how many pieces you can eat before all the sugar will make you crave for water. I enjoy breaking them into little pieces, extracting the peanut and leaving the caramelized sugar for the ants. Certainly, market day must be the favorite day of the members of the entomology kingdom.
Late in the afternoon, the market slowly becomes quiet. Pacuan slowly returns to it's somber state with the stillness of the night occasionally interrupted by the howling of dogs. Market day is always exhausting but I always retire looking forward to the next market day.
Oh the good old days...
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The Conscience and the Nerve
An individual with uncontrolled diabetes can develop neuropathy, a condition wherein the nerve literally becomes numb and is unable to send signals to the brain. This is the major reason why diabetic patients are advised to check their feet daily because without intact nerves, they may be injured without any pain at all. Without pain, the wound will remain undiscovered, unattended and can be fatal. Our NERVES permit us to feel the PAIN so that our BODY can protect itself! Needless to say, it is important to take utmost care of our nerves.
The nerve reminds me so much of the CONSCIENCE that sends GUILT feelings to warn the SOUL. Like the nerve, I have to take good care of my conscience and heed to its rebukes. I know that by repeatedly ignoring the guilt feelings a reproachable act incites, I can make my conscience numb, leaving my soul vulnerable. With an injured soul, I may end up basking in apathy, hopelessness and bitterness. And what would my life be like then...
Great is my gratitude towards my nerves for protecting my body and my conscience for guarding my soul!
The nerve reminds me so much of the CONSCIENCE that sends GUILT feelings to warn the SOUL. Like the nerve, I have to take good care of my conscience and heed to its rebukes. I know that by repeatedly ignoring the guilt feelings a reproachable act incites, I can make my conscience numb, leaving my soul vulnerable. With an injured soul, I may end up basking in apathy, hopelessness and bitterness. And what would my life be like then...
Great is my gratitude towards my nerves for protecting my body and my conscience for guarding my soul!
Monday, January 28, 2008
A Reply for a Friend
Why I disagree with the provision in the cheap medicine bill penalizing doctors for writing the brand name in addition to the generic name of drugs...
Every organization has its bad eggs. There are doctors who cheat, lie, falsify, manipulate and even kill, intentionally or unintentionally. Finishing medical school only gives us credence to wear a doctors' gown/blazer/smack and a stethoscope but certainly not a halo. No. Not a halo. In short, the MD that is attached to our names does not stand for Moral Doctor but simply, Medical Doctor. Although we deal with lives, we are not gods. We are as human as the next bum on the street. WE ARE SO LIMITED. We sin. We get tempted.
If I am a bad egg and refuse to change, I can continue to be one even if there is a law prohibiting me from writing the brand name. I can still make my patient buy the brand of the pharmaceutical company that promised me a trip to the US. All I have to do is to write on a separate piece of paper the brand name to avoid any legal snag and take advantage of the trust accorded to me by my patient by convincing him that this brand and only this brand will make him well. This amendment certainly will not affect me or make my coffers any lighter. I will not even bother to fight this amendment. I might even see it as another opportunity to enrich myself by going into the business of selling generic drugs!
But there are good eggs in the medical organization who sincerely want what is best for their patients. There are doctors who choose to write the brand name not because the pharmaceutical company sponsored his conference for advanced education but because he sincerely believes the brand is more efficacious and safe compared to the others. There are doctors who may accept the offers of free trips, free meals, free ballpens by pharmaceutical companies but who do not allow these "perks" to influence their choice of medicine. This amendment deprives doctors who prescribe with a conscience the option to write the brand they feel will make their patients heal faster.
As an example, when I needed to replace the battery of my car, I asked around for the most durable and cost effective brand. There were many suggestions but I chose to go for the brand recommended by my mechanic because I believed he was the one who knew best.
Making it a crime to have the option to write the brandname is similar to silencing my mechanic from making any recommendation as to the best type of battery around. My mechanic's input was a big help. Similarly, I think patients will appreciate and likely want their doctors to give them the drug proven by their experience to work.
It's an incontrovertible fact. There are good eggs and bad eggs in every organization. Pushing through with this amendment is likened to crushing a whole colony of bees simply because one bee bit you. On the other hand, because of this sting, hopefully the flaws of the medical system especially pertaining to the procurement and regulation of drugs in the country can be addressed.
Every organization has its bad eggs. There are doctors who cheat, lie, falsify, manipulate and even kill, intentionally or unintentionally. Finishing medical school only gives us credence to wear a doctors' gown/blazer/smack and a stethoscope but certainly not a halo. No. Not a halo. In short, the MD that is attached to our names does not stand for Moral Doctor but simply, Medical Doctor. Although we deal with lives, we are not gods. We are as human as the next bum on the street. WE ARE SO LIMITED. We sin. We get tempted.
If I am a bad egg and refuse to change, I can continue to be one even if there is a law prohibiting me from writing the brand name. I can still make my patient buy the brand of the pharmaceutical company that promised me a trip to the US. All I have to do is to write on a separate piece of paper the brand name to avoid any legal snag and take advantage of the trust accorded to me by my patient by convincing him that this brand and only this brand will make him well. This amendment certainly will not affect me or make my coffers any lighter. I will not even bother to fight this amendment. I might even see it as another opportunity to enrich myself by going into the business of selling generic drugs!
But there are good eggs in the medical organization who sincerely want what is best for their patients. There are doctors who choose to write the brand name not because the pharmaceutical company sponsored his conference for advanced education but because he sincerely believes the brand is more efficacious and safe compared to the others. There are doctors who may accept the offers of free trips, free meals, free ballpens by pharmaceutical companies but who do not allow these "perks" to influence their choice of medicine. This amendment deprives doctors who prescribe with a conscience the option to write the brand they feel will make their patients heal faster.
As an example, when I needed to replace the battery of my car, I asked around for the most durable and cost effective brand. There were many suggestions but I chose to go for the brand recommended by my mechanic because I believed he was the one who knew best.
Making it a crime to have the option to write the brandname is similar to silencing my mechanic from making any recommendation as to the best type of battery around. My mechanic's input was a big help. Similarly, I think patients will appreciate and likely want their doctors to give them the drug proven by their experience to work.
It's an incontrovertible fact. There are good eggs and bad eggs in every organization. Pushing through with this amendment is likened to crushing a whole colony of bees simply because one bee bit you. On the other hand, because of this sting, hopefully the flaws of the medical system especially pertaining to the procurement and regulation of drugs in the country can be addressed.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Copycat
I would like to share something a friend of mine wrote a few months ago on his blog in friendster about the intricacies of love. I was reminded of his words as I was listening to Rod Stewart's version of Love Hurts. With his raspy voice, he sang about how "Love hurts, love scars, Love wounds, and marks"...that "Love is just a lie, Made to make you blue.." Tsk Tsk. I 'll shrug a shoulder to that! :)
From R.C.:
From R.C.:
Taking the risk
A lot has been said about loving and losing in the game of love. It is said that "the fear of striking out should not keep one from playing the game"... "that everything is fair in love and war"... "that it is better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all".
Nice words but the truth is, it hurts when you love someone who does not love you back.
Rejection never encourages but spawns bitterness. The wound may heal but often it leaves you scarred.
No. It is not better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all!
It is better to not have loved at all... if you are just going to lose the person you love most.
Can you lose love?
Can you lose love?
Can you leave it in the middle of the crowd and hope it will lose its way?
Is it possible to seek reason in order to forget the emotion?
Can you choose to forget reason and follow the emotion no matter where it will lead you?
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Shadows of the Soul
When your job puts you repeatedly in a position where your decision can mean the life or death of a person, something in you changes.
In your desire to improve your astuteness in diagnosing and treating diseases, the soul is oftentimes left out. The mind is nourished but the heart is starved.
It is ironic that in the fight to add life, the giver of life is sometimes forgotten.
I would like to share some of my notes during my three years residency training where the pressure to become the best doctor can be stressful to the heart and soul. The struggle is real as any young doctor doing residency training can attest.
The feelings of rebuke, guilt,remorse and pride are the shadows of the soul.
REBUKE.
Looking from a window of a taxi. Blocks of dilapidated houses. Seemed endless. Men, women, children. Any chance they were once my patient? Whirled to the past. How many times have I demanded ... no shamelessly castigated them for bringing their sick when there's no money for medicines? Oblivious to their responsibilities ... always pretending to be victims but they just do not care enough... work hard enough to improve themselves. Hated vagrants... hated the poor... but never admitting it ... lest God might be listening? Hated begging for medicines... I am a doctor, not a social worker! But if circumstances were different...
Looking from the window of a shanty. Cars passing by. Seemed endless. Men, women, children. Any chance I would be like them? Never went to school. No money. Never had anything. Stomach growling. Body used up food taken two days ago. Not appeased by water. Now demanding. Somebody close is sick. Only hope is a government hospital. No money for medicines. Nobody to ask for money. Death is eventual. Is God listening? I am also His child...
Looking from the window of a taxi. Blocks and blocks of dilapidated houses. Seemed endless... reminding me of my shame. REBUKE
GUILT
Could feel my temper rising. Seen already a lot of patients. Have to see a lot more. Throat's almost dry. This old lady does not answer my questions directly. Do not care about her son. Do not care about her financial problems. My only care are her medical problems. Face frowns, voice increasing in decibels. Manifesting obvious irritation. Lady notices. Becomes quiet. Rattles instructions on how to take her medicines. Finishes. Lady takes my hand. Looks into my eyes. Smiles. Minute of silence seemed a year. Thanks me for listening. Left. Heart's full of guilt. Minute of listening is never a minute wasted. Should have known. GUILT
REMORSE
Eyes became teary. Told her there's no more hope for her mother. Hypoxic encephalopathy attached to a mechanical ventilator for more than a month. Poor prognosis. Had to tell her. Why? Out of concern for her? Not sure. Wanted her to decide to bring patient home. Minus one from my list of patients. Relief. But why do I feel bad? She tenderly cared for her for more than a month. Why? Because of hope. Hope that her mother will live and perhaps smile again. Now it's gone. Stolen by a thief in white. What is left for her now? What is left for her mother now?. REMORSE
PRIDE
She looked at me. Held my hand. "Doktora, pangalawa ka sa Diyos". Taken aback. I was speechless. Two days ago, her sister was unresponsive. My diagnosis. Hepatic encephalopathy stage 4. Grave prognosis. Did not hide it from her. Her response: "Tanggap na namin Docktora". Relief. Did not do much but she lived. "Doktora, pangalawa ka sa Diyos". Said it again. Thought I did not hear it the first time. I simply nodded. Weird feeling groped me. Flattered? No. Insulted? No. Do not understand. Do not want to understand. Guess the idea of healing as an alliance with God has not sunk in fully yet. PRIDE
In your desire to improve your astuteness in diagnosing and treating diseases, the soul is oftentimes left out. The mind is nourished but the heart is starved.
It is ironic that in the fight to add life, the giver of life is sometimes forgotten.
I would like to share some of my notes during my three years residency training where the pressure to become the best doctor can be stressful to the heart and soul. The struggle is real as any young doctor doing residency training can attest.
The feelings of rebuke, guilt,remorse and pride are the shadows of the soul.
REBUKE.
Looking from a window of a taxi. Blocks of dilapidated houses. Seemed endless. Men, women, children. Any chance they were once my patient? Whirled to the past. How many times have I demanded ... no shamelessly castigated them for bringing their sick when there's no money for medicines? Oblivious to their responsibilities ... always pretending to be victims but they just do not care enough... work hard enough to improve themselves. Hated vagrants... hated the poor... but never admitting it ... lest God might be listening? Hated begging for medicines... I am a doctor, not a social worker! But if circumstances were different...
Looking from the window of a shanty. Cars passing by. Seemed endless. Men, women, children. Any chance I would be like them? Never went to school. No money. Never had anything. Stomach growling. Body used up food taken two days ago. Not appeased by water. Now demanding. Somebody close is sick. Only hope is a government hospital. No money for medicines. Nobody to ask for money. Death is eventual. Is God listening? I am also His child...
Looking from the window of a taxi. Blocks and blocks of dilapidated houses. Seemed endless... reminding me of my shame. REBUKE
GUILT
Could feel my temper rising. Seen already a lot of patients. Have to see a lot more. Throat's almost dry. This old lady does not answer my questions directly. Do not care about her son. Do not care about her financial problems. My only care are her medical problems. Face frowns, voice increasing in decibels. Manifesting obvious irritation. Lady notices. Becomes quiet. Rattles instructions on how to take her medicines. Finishes. Lady takes my hand. Looks into my eyes. Smiles. Minute of silence seemed a year. Thanks me for listening. Left. Heart's full of guilt. Minute of listening is never a minute wasted. Should have known. GUILT
REMORSE
Eyes became teary. Told her there's no more hope for her mother. Hypoxic encephalopathy attached to a mechanical ventilator for more than a month. Poor prognosis. Had to tell her. Why? Out of concern for her? Not sure. Wanted her to decide to bring patient home. Minus one from my list of patients. Relief. But why do I feel bad? She tenderly cared for her for more than a month. Why? Because of hope. Hope that her mother will live and perhaps smile again. Now it's gone. Stolen by a thief in white. What is left for her now? What is left for her mother now?. REMORSE
PRIDE
She looked at me. Held my hand. "Doktora, pangalawa ka sa Diyos". Taken aback. I was speechless. Two days ago, her sister was unresponsive. My diagnosis. Hepatic encephalopathy stage 4. Grave prognosis. Did not hide it from her. Her response: "Tanggap na namin Docktora". Relief. Did not do much but she lived. "Doktora, pangalawa ka sa Diyos". Said it again. Thought I did not hear it the first time. I simply nodded. Weird feeling groped me. Flattered? No. Insulted? No. Do not understand. Do not want to understand. Guess the idea of healing as an alliance with God has not sunk in fully yet. PRIDE
Monday, December 24, 2007
The Pathways of Our Lives
My next assignment as a community doctor was in Pacuan Community Primary Hospital in La Libertad Negros Oriental.
When I came to the hospital, the first thing that I wanted to improve was the backyard. It was covered with a thick growth of shrubs and "cogon"grass which I feared served as a perfect haven for snakes and other creepy crawlies. After a lot of hard work, we were able to replace the shrubs with corn, some vegetables and a small pond. We also created a pathway so that the hospital can be approached from the back. Since the soil was the type which turns into clay when wet and almost impossible to traverse after a downpour, we had the pathway cemented. Then we planted ornamental shrubs on both sides to of our pathway. We took extra care of the shrubs ... watered them everyday, pulled out the weeds and applied fertilizers until they were lushly green. Naturally, we zealously protected our "babies" from every type of creature which threatened their existence.. EXCEPT on one occasion.
It was raining the whole morning and it was just starting to subside into a light drizzle. I was with our nurse Irene in the nurses' station gazing at our backyard when we noticed a couple with their 3 kids walk through the gate at the back. When the mother who was carrying her youngest came to the cemented path, she stopped. She looked perplexed and summoned her husband who was tugging on their two other kids. They both looked at the cemented path and had a sort of discussion. Suddenly, and to our horror, the husband deliberately walked on our precious ornamental shrubs followed by the kids then the wife. Irene and I scurried hastily to the door but it was too late. Much of our precious shrubs were flattened! It was impossible for our "babies" to withstand the assault of four pairs of feet !!!
Trying our best to subdue our anger, we asked them why they did not walk on the pathway. Looking a little embarassed, the husband replied that they did not want to spread the mud from their slippers on the concrete path!
It is very touching to meet people who see value on things we consider insignificant. I walked on that pathway several times and never hesitated to walk on it with dirty footwear because I knew that was the purpose of the pathway... to be walked on. Above all, this pathway spared us from the viscous soil but we gave more attention and respect to the ornaments which served only to adorn.
This Christmas, I would like to thank God for all the similar "pathways" in my life... people who continued to care and work for me despite the lack of appreciation or recognition on my part.
When I came to the hospital, the first thing that I wanted to improve was the backyard. It was covered with a thick growth of shrubs and "cogon"grass which I feared served as a perfect haven for snakes and other creepy crawlies. After a lot of hard work, we were able to replace the shrubs with corn, some vegetables and a small pond. We also created a pathway so that the hospital can be approached from the back. Since the soil was the type which turns into clay when wet and almost impossible to traverse after a downpour, we had the pathway cemented. Then we planted ornamental shrubs on both sides to of our pathway. We took extra care of the shrubs ... watered them everyday, pulled out the weeds and applied fertilizers until they were lushly green. Naturally, we zealously protected our "babies" from every type of creature which threatened their existence.. EXCEPT on one occasion.
It was raining the whole morning and it was just starting to subside into a light drizzle. I was with our nurse Irene in the nurses' station gazing at our backyard when we noticed a couple with their 3 kids walk through the gate at the back. When the mother who was carrying her youngest came to the cemented path, she stopped. She looked perplexed and summoned her husband who was tugging on their two other kids. They both looked at the cemented path and had a sort of discussion. Suddenly, and to our horror, the husband deliberately walked on our precious ornamental shrubs followed by the kids then the wife. Irene and I scurried hastily to the door but it was too late. Much of our precious shrubs were flattened! It was impossible for our "babies" to withstand the assault of four pairs of feet !!!
Trying our best to subdue our anger, we asked them why they did not walk on the pathway. Looking a little embarassed, the husband replied that they did not want to spread the mud from their slippers on the concrete path!
It is very touching to meet people who see value on things we consider insignificant. I walked on that pathway several times and never hesitated to walk on it with dirty footwear because I knew that was the purpose of the pathway... to be walked on. Above all, this pathway spared us from the viscous soil but we gave more attention and respect to the ornaments which served only to adorn.
This Christmas, I would like to thank God for all the similar "pathways" in my life... people who continued to care and work for me despite the lack of appreciation or recognition on my part.
A Caterpillar With Wings
I was going through my things this afternoon and found a story which I wrote when I was a first year resident in Internal Medicine. I remember I wrote it to remind myself not to disparage my junior when I become a senior resident.
Once upon a time, a caterpillar was slowly crawling his way up a branch to get to its tip and feed on its luscious leaves. His body was scratched several times from the protruding barks but he persisted for he knew he needed to feed in order to become something more beautiful and free... a BUTTERFLY!
Fold, stretch, fold, stretch... slowly he made his way. Suddenly, a shadow befell upon him. Looking up, he saw a glorious butterfly. Its wing was a remarkable combination of red, blue and gold. Flapping its beautiful wings, it flew into loops, spirals and circles above the mystified caterpillar.
" Someday, I am going to have wings as beautiful as that", the caterpillar muttered unconsciously.
Hearing the caterpillar, the butterfly haughtily remarked. " I certainly doubt it sir! Though I too was once a caterpillar like you, I was far wiser and faster. By this time, I was no longer crawling and feeding but weaving my beautiful cocoon. Look at you! You could not even crawl without getting scathed!"
Bowing its head, the caterpillar slowly turned away... hurt but not broken. Everyday, he folded and stretched while the butterfly hovered above him mocking his efforts. Wanting of encouragement, he almost believed he will never become the beautiful butterfly he aspired to be. The butterfly's mocking words haunted him.
One day, he broke out of his cocoon. The morning light fell on his wings... a gorgeous tapestry of colors. Flip, flop, flip, flop... he flew... into loops, spirals and circles. Flying high, he saw a butterfly crawling on a branch... too old and weary to fly. It's wings were torn and old but he remembered the green, blue and gold.
" Oh Mr Butterfly, don't you remember me? I was the lowly caterpillar whom you believed would never become the beautiful butterfly I turned out to be!"
The old butterfly looked up and a weary smile crossed his face, " Enjoy your wings my dear friend. Fly high and see the world. But don't make the same mistake I did. Never see others as lower than you. For a butterfly, my dear friend, is just a caterpillar with wings."
Once upon a time, a caterpillar was slowly crawling his way up a branch to get to its tip and feed on its luscious leaves. His body was scratched several times from the protruding barks but he persisted for he knew he needed to feed in order to become something more beautiful and free... a BUTTERFLY!
Fold, stretch, fold, stretch... slowly he made his way. Suddenly, a shadow befell upon him. Looking up, he saw a glorious butterfly. Its wing was a remarkable combination of red, blue and gold. Flapping its beautiful wings, it flew into loops, spirals and circles above the mystified caterpillar.
" Someday, I am going to have wings as beautiful as that", the caterpillar muttered unconsciously.
Hearing the caterpillar, the butterfly haughtily remarked. " I certainly doubt it sir! Though I too was once a caterpillar like you, I was far wiser and faster. By this time, I was no longer crawling and feeding but weaving my beautiful cocoon. Look at you! You could not even crawl without getting scathed!"
Bowing its head, the caterpillar slowly turned away... hurt but not broken. Everyday, he folded and stretched while the butterfly hovered above him mocking his efforts. Wanting of encouragement, he almost believed he will never become the beautiful butterfly he aspired to be. The butterfly's mocking words haunted him.
One day, he broke out of his cocoon. The morning light fell on his wings... a gorgeous tapestry of colors. Flip, flop, flip, flop... he flew... into loops, spirals and circles. Flying high, he saw a butterfly crawling on a branch... too old and weary to fly. It's wings were torn and old but he remembered the green, blue and gold.
" Oh Mr Butterfly, don't you remember me? I was the lowly caterpillar whom you believed would never become the beautiful butterfly I turned out to be!"
The old butterfly looked up and a weary smile crossed his face, " Enjoy your wings my dear friend. Fly high and see the world. But don't make the same mistake I did. Never see others as lower than you. For a butterfly, my dear friend, is just a caterpillar with wings."
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
ASK AND YOU shall receive
After I passed the board exams, I decided to work as a community doctor. My first assignment was in Kalumbuyan Community Primary Hospital in Negros Oriental.
Every February 14, valentines day, it has been a tradition in the community to hold a Mr and Mrs Kalumbuyan contest and I was invited as a speaker on one occasion.
Being asked to be the main guest and speaker brought so much anxiety in me. I was just a fresh board passer who decided to go into community solely for the envisioned adventure of working in a far flung area and had absolutely, ABSOLUTELY, no ambition or talent in public speaking.
Unfortunately, I could not say no to the barangay captain who invited me. Aside from being very supportive to the hospital, he was also responsible for the sacks of either long grained rice or malagkit I brought home every month.
When I confessed my fear of public speaking to our in house barangay health worker, she told me, " Kaya na nimo doc, Bisaya lang bitaw". And that removed my anxiety... and replaced it with panic. Sheer unadulterated PANIC.
It's not that I was proficient in English, but certainly I was more comfortable speaking Uncle Sam's language than Lapu-Lapu's.
The days passed with me hoping that the event will not push through or that Kap will tell me that they've invited somebody else. But the signs I was looking for were not there. I saw the principal instructing her students to decorate the stage, a group of middle aged ladies chattering excitedly about the dresses they had made for the event and a contestant borrowing our staff's Macarena cassette. To clinch my fate, Kap gave me a typewritten invitation with my name clearly assigned as guest speaker.
But the optimist in me just wont settle down. The event was to be held in an open auditorium. The organizers were in harmony, the contestants were prepared so it seemed that the only way the event will not push through is if it rains. And so, ever determined to redefine my fate, I prayed. I PRAYED FOR RAIN.
I was awakened on the day of the event by the cheerful "titilaok" (cuckledodoo) of the in house cock. Not a good sign. When I went out, I was greeted by a clear blue sky and bright sun conspiring to mock me. Definitely, not good signs. Nevertheless, I still prayed. If Jesus can turn water into wine, certainly he can make rain.
Afternoon came and there was absolutely no sign of rain. Not even a single cloud was in sight. And so, I began to accept my fate and started to formulate my speech revolving on love.
Then evening came. The stars, in complete attendance, were gazing the dark sky. In a different circumstance, that would have been very romantic but at that time, I only saw the stars conniving to light my way towards my doom.
It was a long walk from the hospital to the venue but it was made longer by the butterflies in my stomach and my foolishness to wear heels on a coarse stony road.
Completely abandoning any hope of rain and completely accepting the inevitable, I started to polish my speech in my head. " Pagsalig, Paglaom, ug paghigugma, pero ang pinaka importante ang paghigugma" ( faith, hope and love but the greatest of these is love) which I thought was befitting for valentines.
Then I heard my name called. I have no recollection of what happened prior to that because I was completely absorbed with my so called "speech". I made my way up the stage, paused before the mike to gather some courage, and said "Maayong gabi-i sa inyo tanan!"(Good evening to all). AND THEN IT HAPPENED ...
They came in trickles but not for long. Soon they became large drops of water eventually escalating into a torrential rain. It came so suddenly. I saw the audience scampering all over seeking shelter. Somebody rushed to my side to place an umbrella over my head. Since the mike was still on and I was at this time already determined to complete my speech, I continued. Then the thunder came. Evidently, with the rain and thunder, nobody cared for my speech except for me.
So who said God has no sense of humor? I asked for rain and he gave it to me. With perfect timing.
Every February 14, valentines day, it has been a tradition in the community to hold a Mr and Mrs Kalumbuyan contest and I was invited as a speaker on one occasion.
Being asked to be the main guest and speaker brought so much anxiety in me. I was just a fresh board passer who decided to go into community solely for the envisioned adventure of working in a far flung area and had absolutely, ABSOLUTELY, no ambition or talent in public speaking.
Unfortunately, I could not say no to the barangay captain who invited me. Aside from being very supportive to the hospital, he was also responsible for the sacks of either long grained rice or malagkit I brought home every month.
When I confessed my fear of public speaking to our in house barangay health worker, she told me, " Kaya na nimo doc, Bisaya lang bitaw". And that removed my anxiety... and replaced it with panic. Sheer unadulterated PANIC.
It's not that I was proficient in English, but certainly I was more comfortable speaking Uncle Sam's language than Lapu-Lapu's.
The days passed with me hoping that the event will not push through or that Kap will tell me that they've invited somebody else. But the signs I was looking for were not there. I saw the principal instructing her students to decorate the stage, a group of middle aged ladies chattering excitedly about the dresses they had made for the event and a contestant borrowing our staff's Macarena cassette. To clinch my fate, Kap gave me a typewritten invitation with my name clearly assigned as guest speaker.
But the optimist in me just wont settle down. The event was to be held in an open auditorium. The organizers were in harmony, the contestants were prepared so it seemed that the only way the event will not push through is if it rains. And so, ever determined to redefine my fate, I prayed. I PRAYED FOR RAIN.
I was awakened on the day of the event by the cheerful "titilaok" (cuckledodoo) of the in house cock. Not a good sign. When I went out, I was greeted by a clear blue sky and bright sun conspiring to mock me. Definitely, not good signs. Nevertheless, I still prayed. If Jesus can turn water into wine, certainly he can make rain.
Afternoon came and there was absolutely no sign of rain. Not even a single cloud was in sight. And so, I began to accept my fate and started to formulate my speech revolving on love.
Then evening came. The stars, in complete attendance, were gazing the dark sky. In a different circumstance, that would have been very romantic but at that time, I only saw the stars conniving to light my way towards my doom.
It was a long walk from the hospital to the venue but it was made longer by the butterflies in my stomach and my foolishness to wear heels on a coarse stony road.
Completely abandoning any hope of rain and completely accepting the inevitable, I started to polish my speech in my head. " Pagsalig, Paglaom, ug paghigugma, pero ang pinaka importante ang paghigugma" ( faith, hope and love but the greatest of these is love) which I thought was befitting for valentines.
Then I heard my name called. I have no recollection of what happened prior to that because I was completely absorbed with my so called "speech". I made my way up the stage, paused before the mike to gather some courage, and said "Maayong gabi-i sa inyo tanan!"(Good evening to all). AND THEN IT HAPPENED ...
They came in trickles but not for long. Soon they became large drops of water eventually escalating into a torrential rain. It came so suddenly. I saw the audience scampering all over seeking shelter. Somebody rushed to my side to place an umbrella over my head. Since the mike was still on and I was at this time already determined to complete my speech, I continued. Then the thunder came. Evidently, with the rain and thunder, nobody cared for my speech except for me.
So who said God has no sense of humor? I asked for rain and he gave it to me. With perfect timing.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
...
God works in absolutely amazing ways.
He brings people together. He tears them apart.
He builds. He also destroys.
He gives laughter. He brings forth sorrow.
He GIVES. He TAKES.
BUT what is amazing in the highs and lows of our lives is that God is consistently there... persistently offering his love and with his love, HOPE.
This blog is for a good friend who is probably facing the most challenging course in her life. Thank you for not asking WHY this happened to you and helping me see instead the WHO in our lives. The WHO in charge of everything...the WHO who will help you through this.
He brings people together. He tears them apart.
He builds. He also destroys.
He gives laughter. He brings forth sorrow.
He GIVES. He TAKES.
BUT what is amazing in the highs and lows of our lives is that God is consistently there... persistently offering his love and with his love, HOPE.
This blog is for a good friend who is probably facing the most challenging course in her life. Thank you for not asking WHY this happened to you and helping me see instead the WHO in our lives. The WHO in charge of everything...the WHO who will help you through this.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
You're a Gift Box
Whenever I receive a gift box, much excitement comes from trying to guess what it contains.
Simply looking would never suffice because the wrapping is never foretelling of the content of the box.
I can hold and shake the box and see if it clicks, ticks or cracks. : )
But the only way to find out what the box contains is to open it.
Tearing a beautiful and perfectly wrapped box may seem irreverent but it's the only way to see the contents of the box!
I realized that the same holds true for people. To know a person better requires commitment to go beyond the physical and necessitates a certain degree of bravery and faith to get to the soul of a person.
Whether I like what's inside or not, or whether the "box" contains anything at all, the thrill of knowing the person in the body is always worth the effort!
Simply looking would never suffice because the wrapping is never foretelling of the content of the box.
I can hold and shake the box and see if it clicks, ticks or cracks. : )
But the only way to find out what the box contains is to open it.
Tearing a beautiful and perfectly wrapped box may seem irreverent but it's the only way to see the contents of the box!
I realized that the same holds true for people. To know a person better requires commitment to go beyond the physical and necessitates a certain degree of bravery and faith to get to the soul of a person.
Whether I like what's inside or not, or whether the "box" contains anything at all, the thrill of knowing the person in the body is always worth the effort!
Friday, December 7, 2007
CHIEF CHEF
God is the perfect chef. He chooses the best ingredients to make the perfect YOU and measures each ingredient with absolute precision. He patiently adds the ingredients one by one, keeps a close watch as YOU cook and wait until YOU are cooked to perfection in accordance to HIS taste.
God being the perfect chef uses his creativity and brilliance to make variety. Some of us are created with more spice, some with more sugar... others are well done, some are medium rare while some are not cooked at all! However He wishes to cook us, one thing is for certain. He cooks us according to HIS perfect taste and timing and He serves us according to the purpose He prepared us for. A cake for example is best served as dessert and not as an appetizer or main course. Imagine too having a Steak for dessert! Tsk Tsk.
Accepting God as my executive chef, I have less fear of tomorrow because however He cooks me I know He is intently monitoring my progress. He wouldnt allow me to burn... and if He does, I wont complain. Chances are, He destined me to be a mouth watering delicious burnt Creme Brulee! :)
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
A Breast Story
She came to me with a fixed and hard mass on her left breast and a story I often hear from my patients who seek consult only when the cancer is already in the advanced stage.
She felt the lump on her breast a few years back. It was still the size of a pea but since it was not bothering her, she opted not to have it checked. The lump grew in size. The possibility of breast cancer crossed her mind but she was too afraid to go to a doctor and have her worse fear confirmed. One morning, she heard over the radio a woman whose breast cancer was cured after taking an herbal tablet. Believing that this was God's answer to her prayers, she zealously took the medicines for months. She also decided to cut meat in her diet and loaded herself with vitamins and various anti-oxidants peddled to her. One afternoon, her nipple sloughed off and blood oozed out from the wound. By this time, her whole left breast has already been reduced to a mass of cancer cells.
She was already stage III and would need an operation, chemotherapy and radiation therapy. The possibility of cure is improbable.
She is only 34 years old.
Some of you may be shaking your heads in contemptuous disbelief.
Why did she rely on advertised claims of cure missing out on her opportunity of being treated at an earlier stage when cure can be affected?
Why is the government not doing anything to curb the onslaught of advertisements claiming cure for cancer? How can the listeners determine verity of the testimonies they hear on the radio?
How can we change the BREAST STORY from tragedy to that of faith, fortitude and inspiration?
EDUCATION.
Breast cancer cannot be prevented. But it can be detected early and EARLY breast cancer can be cured.
Please help us in our campaign for early detection. Please help us change the Breast Story.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
TREES OF LIFE
During my fellowship training in oncology we had an activity in Intramuros where our cancer patients and their families wrote their wishes on a piece of paper, tied these to balloons and released them to the heavens. One by one the balloons disappeared into the starry night sky as if God's invisible hand was receiving them. It was a very touching moment and it brought tears to many.
Although it was a simple activity, it meant so much for the soul struggling in a frail cancer laden body. The thought that their wishes and pleadings were brought closer to God's heaven somehow stirred hope inside the darkness engulfing their hearts. It was this experience that somehow inspired the TREES OF LIFE PROJECT.
Balanan Lake is located in Siaton Negros Oriental . The government of Oriental Negros has been developing this area for ecotourism and has been promoting the reforestation of the surrounding greenwood. In the TREES OF LIFE Project, a family membe or a loved one can plant a tree around balanan lake and dedicate this to a cancer warrior. As the roots of these trees ramify deeper into the soil and its branches reach out to heaven, so will the hope of the cancer warrior live on. Cancer can ravage the human body BUT it can never break the soul.
To know more about this project, please contact us. We will be more than willing to guide you.
Dr. Geena Macalua and Dr. Sheila Flores ( 035-2261289)
Dr. Milagros Uy (0354228456)
Although it was a simple activity, it meant so much for the soul struggling in a frail cancer laden body. The thought that their wishes and pleadings were brought closer to God's heaven somehow stirred hope inside the darkness engulfing their hearts. It was this experience that somehow inspired the TREES OF LIFE PROJECT.
Balanan Lake is located in Siaton Negros Oriental . The government of Oriental Negros has been developing this area for ecotourism and has been promoting the reforestation of the surrounding greenwood. In the TREES OF LIFE Project, a family membe or a loved one can plant a tree around balanan lake and dedicate this to a cancer warrior. As the roots of these trees ramify deeper into the soil and its branches reach out to heaven, so will the hope of the cancer warrior live on. Cancer can ravage the human body BUT it can never break the soul.
To know more about this project, please contact us. We will be more than willing to guide you.
Dr. Geena Macalua and Dr. Sheila Flores ( 035-2261289)
Dr. Milagros Uy (0354228456)
Monday, December 3, 2007
Right to My Rights doesnt seem Right
Facing my own mortality makes me appreciative of my life. Knowing that tomorrow may not be as good as today makes me feel grateful for even the smallest blessing that i receive. May it be a harsh word that i kept myself from uttering. Or a piece of cake that i kept myself from munching. But it is a seemingly uphill struggle ( most especially with the cake, ha!) when you have lived your life striving to know what is due to you and fight for it. Life becomes so confusing. You invoke your right to express when people want you to be quiet and call for your right to be silent when you're told to talk. Little by little i have released my right to my rights and surprisingly I am happier...and more grateful.
I am in a journey of re-writing the chorus of my life to " I dont deserve your love and forgiveness, so thank you ..." :)
I am in a journey of re-writing the chorus of my life to " I dont deserve your love and forgiveness, so thank you ..." :)
Letting the senses make sense
My concept of reality is at times as real as my most extraordinary fantasy.
My most extraordinary fantasy is also at times a reality I fervently wish for.
For certain, my reality is dictated by my senses. What i smell, hear, feel, taste and see...compounded together... they become my reality.
But sometimes my senses can deceive me.
Perhaps my reality is simply my fantasy becoming my reality because i wished it to be?
My most extraordinary fantasy is also at times a reality I fervently wish for.
For certain, my reality is dictated by my senses. What i smell, hear, feel, taste and see...compounded together... they become my reality.
But sometimes my senses can deceive me.
Perhaps my reality is simply my fantasy becoming my reality because i wished it to be?
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Checking In for the First Time
Thank you Dr Vera Cruz for introducing to me this world of bloggers. I am proud to say that i am now officially a blogger ( whatever that exactly means)
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