Gay

Right. Brava, Ms. Rowling. I thought you'd never say that.

Whiff of Death

The preserved cadaver lies prone or supine on the black body bag on the cold metal table, helpless against the assault of my group's steel tools. We pray for the soul of the cadaver, make the incisions, remove the fascia and the fat, isolate the neurovascular structures, cut across muscles, point out tendons, and then we leave after cleaning up, sometimes forgetting to pray. All the time I am exposed to the indescribable smell of necrosis and of the menthol-smelling lachrymator that is formalin; somehow, in an utterly inexplicable way, I think I know the smell of death. Many people won't know that I somehow sense/see future events; it may sound freakish that these thoughts come to fruition without my interference. Two boats that sank, an airplane that crashed, a pregnancy, two deaths, and just recently a foreboding that another death will come along. The very thought sent shivers down my spine and has taken over my mind. The foreboding came when I was with the person, and I invariably caught a whiff of death in this person. I've tried to banish this thought from my mind, but knowing the habits of this person, I'd say an early grave wouldn't be too far behind. But I never wish this death to happen because that person is quite dear to me, and I could never will anything terrible happening to that person. Or maybe I've been spending too much time with the cadaver that the embalming chemicals are giving me hallucinations now.

Two Weeks Gone

It's almost been a month now since I've gone to medical school, and I still can't find the proper groove. It's as though everyone around me is working on their foxtrot while I'm dancing to an improvised jig. As my friend has put it, I'm in a double whammy of adjusting to medical school AND adjusting to a new learning institution. I sorely miss my former school, and I'm only realizing now that I've took all those liberties I exercised there for granted. I'm not too keen on being instantly attached to my new uni or to my classmates who went there for undergrad; it's just that we are too different as of the moment, and I don't really want to press it. I think I have certain expectations of the new uni that have yet to be met. I think it's like coming to Beauxbatons, from Hogwarts. I'm also adjusting to the fact that my family thinks that weeekends are free; I know they miss me somewhat, but I'll never be successful or I won't even survive school if they keep eating up my time. I miss my home truly, but I'm more pressed to do well in school right now. Two weeks of pure academia have gone by in a blur. I'm still waiting for that bus that will take me for the best ride of my life.

Tired but not Beaten

Another week is over and I'm thankful that all the stress is over for a bit. Thank God for my friends from UP who love me so much that they even dropped by the dorm to see how I was doing. Thank God for a mentor who always tries to boost my self-esteem. Thank God for friends who care enough to help me out when I need it most. Thank God for my home. Thank God for my relatives and upperclassmen friends who were kind enough to donate their medical books, seeing that I could not afford them. I'm still adjusting to a new campus and a new academic path, and it's taking quite a long time. Wish me luck.

Back to the Dorm

In a few minutes' time, I will be back at my dorm; it's about 20 kilometers away but it seems more like 20 million. (The rationale behind this being that I cannot take the 2-hour commute one way from the house to the campus, with four out of the five days of the school week starting at 7 AM.) It's going to be another week of no internet, 17-minute head-down reading sessions, dissections, butt-numbing lecture hours, and group discussions. I'm tired and harassed and irritated and feeling very irresponsible. I spent this weekend on a medical mission organized by the family from my father's side to commemorate the 10th death anniversary of my grandfather and the birth anniversary of my grandmother. I'll do a picture/narrative dump when I have time. Hope to hear from the people on my flist soon. :)

First Week in Med School

My first week of medical school was a complete emotional roller coaster. My feeling swung from excitement to apprehension to delight to sadness and every other emotion known to the human range or spectrum. I am still adjusting to living in a dorm again; I don't have the endurance for the two hour trips one way to or from school. I've taken my bedroom here at home for granted, that I missed the space and the privacy so much in the first two nights. I have a roommate who is four years younger, who is here in the metropolitan area for the first time, and is an undergraduate student. I don't have internet access there yet. I still haven't fixed up my closet, my kitchen cabinet, and my desk. I feel that my own space is so Spartan, and not as homey as I was used to. For the very first time in my life, I am so HOMESICK. I'm also adjusting to being a student in a Catholic school again. After eight years of 'hard core' secular education, I was shocked to see that we started and ended classes with a prayer. We also started the school year with a Mass. We would be celebrating days of obligation, feast days of saints, etcetera. It's not that I'm a nonpracticing Catholic; I do fulfill my obligations but it's just that I'm really not too keen on the Thomasian traditions of prayer as yet. The people I've met in my batch and in my section in medical school were surprisingly friendly and warm. I've already met some elementary school batchmates, Pisay dormmates, fellow UP Manila graduates, people new to Manila, Filipino-Americans, Americans, upperclassmen (like my surrogate brother who was the one to help me during the pinning ceremony), and professors who were my mom's high school batch mates. I'm quite happy that these people seem to be genuinely nice, but as always I do keep my guard up because I can never be too careful anyway and I still have to work as hard as the Hufflepuffs in medical school. The funniest thing happened during our 'freshmen' tour. The whole batch (530 of us all in all) were divided into teams of about twenty and we were guided around the building to get familiar with the rooms and offices. The teams were named after all the subjects in the Harry Potter canon, and I think that Professor Snape would be very proud to know that I belonged to Team Occlumency. Maybe it's a sign that I rid my mind of emotion, empty it...make it blank and calm, that I would be able to focus my energies on learning instead of agonizing over each and every single decision I've made. Right now, I'm failing at Occlumency. I still feel troubled that I chose to study in a Catholic university, that I am in a dorm, that I am in this place at this time. The prospect of behaving like this extremely prim and proper young woman twists my knickers so much; I find the all white uniform, particularly the pencil cut of the skirt, so difficult to deal with, after four years of civilian clothing in undergrad. I'm still learning how to walk in heels, when I'm the champion klutz; remember that I'm this person who usually makes a very close acquaintance with slippery stairs or sidewalks. I'm bothered by the thought of whether my academic training in this university will truly make me the best damn doctor that I can be. Oh yes, I have major self-esteem issues right now, and I can only blame myself right for choosing to wallow in misery for the moment. Despite the most worthy advice from the people who mattered most, and from the surprising words from an unexpected mentor, I am still coming to terms with my feelings of inadequacy or failure. Maybe I share Hermione Granger's boggart. Maybe I'm just adjusting or am feeling some culture shock that I never experienced before; I never felt this way in the transition from Catholic elementary school to a science high school or from a science high school to the state university. The only comfort I have is that I went to medical school because I wanted to, and not because I was pressured to do so. So, what am I doing on LJ on a Friday morning? My classes for today were cancelled and I went home last night for a family thing as well. I'm taking this sweet time to cherish the DSL connection, my familiar bed, the warm food, the laundry, and some rest. Come Monday morning, I'll have to take a deep breath and plunge head first into the start of formal classes for medicine. So for now...Occlumens!

Seven Days

A whole new chapter in my life begins in seven days.  It's a world of white, a world of dress codes, a world of intense study, a world of learning about the amazing machine that is the human body, a world of fulfillment.  I'm sure this new chapter will test my endurance, my faith, my willpower, and my intellect in so many ways; I'm sure that there will be times that I will want to chuck everything out of the window and that there will be times that I will feel invincible.

I am both excited and afraid; I feel so elated in making this huge step in making my dreams come true yet apprehensive of moving out of my comfort zone.  All I'm trying to think of at this moment is that this will be such a great adventure.  I am taking the first step of the infinite staircase that lies hidden still.  I am willing to be a beginner once more, to be able to learn new things and have a whole world open to me.  I am hoping this new chapter will enrich my life.

And in four years, I can officially add Doctor of Medicine to my name. =)

Can You Read It?

(image taken last 30 March 2007, during a lunch at a Chinese teahouse)


What do you see in my cup,
Professor Trelawney?

I have absolutely no idea about what the future has in store for me.

All I know is that I'm on my way to becoming the best dang doctor ever.

A year from now, I hopefully would have assimilated myself with my new school.

Five years from now, I want to pass the medical licensure exams with flying colors.

Ten years from now, I'd be specializing in whatever field I am drawn to.  Hopefully I'll be married and a mother by this time.

Twenty years from now, I'd be an established medical 'institution.'  I'd probably be volunteering for Medicins Sans Frontieres.

I want the future to be what I want it to be.  Of course, give and take some.  I just won't let other people or other things dictate what my life should be.

Inertia

Every body perseveres in its state of being at rest or of moving uniformly straight ahead, except insofar as it is compelled to change its state by forces impressed. -Sir Isaac Newton

I am tempted to say that I am living out my last good vacation before I go to med school.  I haven't necessarily devolved into a bum...yet.  I still do some chores around the house because the help is on vacation.  Otherwise, it's a never-ending cycle of Internet, TV, sleep, eat, bath.  I try to rationalize my overuse of the Internet through two reasons even though I'm getting cluster migraines from staring at the screen too long: unlimited DSL and by the time I go to med school, I won't be as active online.

But then again...I've become a classic couch potato.  I can't even force myself to get my grades and my diploma, because I hate going out of the house these days.  Inertia has taken hold of me and will be very hard to shake off.

UP 98th Commencement Exercises

I finally am an official graduate of the University of the Philippines Manila, with a Bachelor's degree in Biochemistry.  Everything seemed so surreal, yet so beautiful.  The commencement exercises were a simple affair, just the way I liked it.

I left home by 6 AM, struggling with the choice of violating the dress code for black shoes.  I had on a very pretty dress that went well with my pewter pumps, but in the end, duty won out. I had thought that I was going to wear a black toga anyway, so everything would be fine.  I didn't go the full makeup and hair route; I let my hair dry in the car and pinned it with a simple clip later on, and I only dabbed a tiny smudge of lip gloss on my lips.  The only fancy things I had on were the heirloom pearl earrings and ring from my godmother, and the gold watch from my grandaunt.  I celebrated the occasion with jewelry, my friend would later say, instead of the usual pancake maquillage and ozone-destroying hairspray.  At least my pictures would be okay, I had hazarded, without having my face look kabuki-white or my head look like a poodle landed there.  I was thinking, maybe I would dress up when the time came that I would receive my degree as Doctor of Medicine; not that I wouldn't dress up because I didn't graduate with Latin honors or that I wasn't proud of my Biochemistry degree.  It just so happened that I found it quite an exaggeration had I gone the "traditional" (traditional meaning very common to Pinoy culture) route of heavy makeup, overdone hair, a dress looking like a wedding gown, droves of relatives present, and a photography overkill.  And hey, I graduated as a scholar of the Department of Science and Technology and as a best thesis awardee, anyway.

The ceremony was a very boring affair, with the processional and awarding of titles taking the most time.  Our college occupied half of the seats reserved for all the graduates, and I overheard a parent comment, "I fell asleep when they were conferring the degrees for the College of Arts and Sciences, and when I woke up later, they weren't finished!"  Most of us either snoozed, took pictures, or talked during the boring parts.  The only exciting part was being conferred with our degrees; at 0931H, the president of the UP System pronounced us as official graduates, and we joyfully transferred the tassels of our (falling) caps from the right to the left.

Photo "stolen" from the fabulous Carlo.  Notice his beautiful pout. 
That's Carlo, me and Hernie, with Mamu on the far left.

I immensely enjoyed the address of the speaker, Professor Ambeth Ocampo, who was able to make the speech fun and quite touching as well.  He talked about the human side of the national hero, who was a doctor; his medical mishaps, his humanitarian work, his death wish, and his personal escapades.  Who would have known that Rizal (as an opthalmologist) attended to his sister's childbirth, and would later write in his notes, "She lost so much blood, she would have died anyway?"  Who would have deduced that Rizal wrote much on the genito-urinary system of the human body, sketching more male parts than female parts?  Who would have known that Rizal experimented with surgeries that left patients, well, dead?  Who would have known that the "Rizal twist" was due to pure vanity, instead of medical reasons?  (Rizal was to be shot in the back, but chose to face the firing squad.  Many attribute it to valor, but it was really vanity on his part; he also specifically instructed the Spanish not to shoot his face.)  The medical graduates were not quite amused by the stories of Rizal's medical antics, but I think they missed the point that Rizal was, as the speaker emphasized, not afraid of failure.  The whole audience was rocking with laughter throughout the speech and this was so much better than the "speech" (more like political campaign) of the speaker in the college recognition program.

After going up the stage, I was surprised by being so warmly greeted by the multitude of professors, not only from my department.  My Chemistry professors, my History I professor, my Physics professors, my Comm II professor, my Biology professors, my Math professors, my Physical Education professor, professors who never became my instructors but became my friends, and even the staff of the college and the Learning Resource Center, were so generous with the handshakes and hugs...the gestures were so warm and loving.  I was very touched when they said, "You are one in a million, and we wish to have more students like you."  No academic honor would have surpassed those words, and for a moment, I thought tears would fall from my eyes.

The combination of threatening tears and hunger (I wasn't able to eat breakfast because of the rush to get to the venue on time) drove me to the loo, where I slyly ate two chocolate covered biscuits and wiped my eyes dry.  I dared not to eat before going up the stage to get my dummy diploma, because I was so afraid that chocolate would cover my teeth in the photographs that were to be taken.  After that quick snack, I went back to my chair and waited for the speech of the class valedictorian, only to be greeted by the chaos of graduates milling around, while the students from other colleges were still going up the stage.  My mum said it was a fitting comeback (though I was still annoyed by the show of bad behavior) to those graduates from the other colleges who were misbehaving while we were going up the stage.

Gerard's valedictory speech was short and quite beautiful, well-written and delivered in Tagalog.  He confided to me later that he struggled with it, being the Cebuano that he was, saying "Alam mo naman, Bisaya dako."  (You know that I am Bisaya.)  The speech was to be delivered in Filipino/Tagalog, because we were from the state university, and to do it in English was deemed unpatriotic.  He reminded us that we were the children of our Motherland, and that whether we meet our success here or abroad, we must always remain rooted to our country.  He encouraged us to give back to the institution that generously educated us, emphasizing that as Iskolars ng Bayan, we were educated through the blood, toil, sweat, and tears of the taxpayers of the land.

After the pledges of loyalty I couldn't quite pronounce clearly (sending me into silent gales of laughter) and the school hymn, I was free to go.  I returned my toga immediately, and set up to eat a late lunch with my parents at Sakae Sushi in MOA.  The food wasn't quite as spectacular as the last time we went, and we only finished off 24 plates of sushi, compared to 27 plates the last time.




I went to the University of Sto. Tomas next, to get my Hepatitis B booster shot.  All the nurses and technicians in the Health Service clinic were so curious about my outfit (and were so bored, as "business" was slow) and thus our conversation was as follows:

Attending Nurse (while preparing shot): Why are you dressed in those nice clothes?
Me: It's my graduation, Ma'am.
Nurse: Graduation?
X-ray Technician: From what school are you? (while examining rubber shoes brought by another colleague, for sale)
Me: UP, sir.
Nurse: Ah, what was your course?
Me: Biochemistry, ma'am.
X-ray Technician: Course?
Me: Biochemistry, sir.
*Nurse injects vaccine*
X-ray Technician: Oh, so that's why you're dressed like that.  Why didn't you treat your friends out to a party first?
Nurse: You're so hardworking dear.  Prioritizing your shot before your graduation party.
Me: Thank you, ma'am.
Nurse: (rubs my arm, places bandage over shot area) Let me sign your card.
Me: Okay.  (Leaves) Thank you.


That was the strangest conversation I had yesterday.  The vaccine didn't hurt, unlike the tetanus shot I got last Thursday.  Good thing she didn't inject it at the same spot as the tetanus shot.  Thirsty because of the heat, I went to McDonalds to indulge in a bubblegum float.


And then, we drove home.  Graduation done. =)



P.S. Graduation photo dump later.