Hands

Medical school professors always remind us students to take care of our hands; they don't care if one becomes extremely vain when it comes to hands, just as long as the hands are in the best working order.  After all, our hands are extremely important in our chosen vocation.  So yes, we wash them, (supposedly) keep them tidy at all times, and try to keep them soft and warm for the benefit of our patients; great excuse to have paraffin wax treatments and hand massages at the spa.

I almost lost the use of my hands awhile ago.  Rushing to the third floor of the school building after losing precious time returning the laptop to the faculty secretary's office, I was checking my phone for our Medicine facilitator's message when I felt my left foot miss a step.  Before I knew it, I had put two hands in front of myself and felt my knees hit the floor with a resounding thud.  I was waiting for my carpals and metacarpals to start cracking but decided against remaining in a crouching position lest more people see the accident.  A millisecond after, horrified thoughts flashed in my brain, "Oh God! Did I just break my hands? And my Med 1 practical exam (physical examination of the abdomen) is today!"  After inspecting my palms, I found some angry pressure marks at the bases of my fingers.  The pain had me slowly flexing my fingers to check if anything was indeed broken-grimacing against the dull pain, I confirmed that nothing was broken.  The next thoughts that came across my pain-dulled mind were of a less pleasant nature, "How bloody stupid can you get?  You played soccer for several years and the first tenet of falling is never to put your hands in front of you to break your fall!  You are such a primitive creature, never being able to work against human reflex!"

The physical exam practical and some errands made me forget about hands for awhile.  Now that that the adrenalin has gone, some mild pain is back.  Makes me want to pop a painkiller and see how my hands look tomorrow later in the morning.  If they're in bad shape, I need to go to the Health Service and probably have them checked for any hairline fractures or whatnot.  Wish me luck.

P.S.  It's the start of the accident prone period of the year for me again!  It's the second half of the second sem again.  Last year, I had patellar tendinitis, electrocution, and swollen eyelids + Angelina Jolie-esque lips from bug bites.  I hope this year will be kinder.

The Nerdiness

Date: 13 January 2008
Time: 1315H
Location: Pathology department

Professor 1: Oh you're here!

Professor 2: How was the exam?

Professor 3: You're smiling. It must mean the exam was easy.

Moi: It was actually okay. More of the common sense type of questions, but then again I always lack common sense.

Professor 3 chuckles and leaves.

Professor 2: I'm going to ask you a question, and I'll ask you to answer me honestly. How do you find Patho?

Moi: I find it enjoyable actually, that I can correlate what's in the text with the slides I see and the pathophysiology of a case that's presented. Helps me remember, learn, and analyze, unlike other stuff that I seem to need to memorize just to pass.. It isn't too hard, perhaps even a bit underrated compared to other subjects, considering it's ten units.

Professor 2: Well analysis is better. And you have to remember all the algorithms. It takes logic; logic saves a lot of time. Of course you can't use your logic if you can't memorize too.

Professor 1: I'm illogical.

Moi: My grades tell me the same thing, doctora. I sometimes fall back on the textbook for those algorithms. I'm still trying to learn everything.

Professor 1: Oh, I never read the textbook. I remember I got a grade of 2.75 for this subject. Ooh, don't let Professor 2 hear that!

Moi: So I still am not totally hopeless, am I?

Professor 1: (shows key) I still don't have the answers to questions 1-20...I'm debating over two possible answers for number 13.

Moi: I can't believe I didn't choose giant cell tumor! Osteoclast-like cells! But the patient was a male, not a female!

Professor 1: Well, the bones were fused already.

Moi: I always get myself mixed up with these stuff. But I kind of prefer the analysis over rote memory work-I seriously suck at memorizing stuff. Sometimes, though, I thank my lucky stars my pencil lands on the correct letter when I shade the scantron.

Professor 1: Ah, I hate memorization too.

Moi: I remember in Pisay, we used to--

Professor 2: You graduated from Pisay too?

Professor 1: Yes, she's from Pisay like me.

Moi: I'm atypical, doctor.

Professor 1: If she's atypical I'm already dysplastic.

Professor 2: We'll give it a few years then. 

Moi: *chuckles nervously* (Does that mean, I'll end up as a pathologist?)

Professor 2: My daughter also graduated from Pisay, I think 1992. She went on to take molecular biology, finished and worked for awhile. Didn't like the job, quit and took Fine Arts. Finished the five-year course in three years, running for cum laude.

Moi: Wow. (*Does this mean I'm wasting my time in medicine and should go into the arts instead?*)

Professor 2: You know, Pisay produces a lot of good graduates not only well versed in the sciences and math.

Moi: Well, I remember our school plays and other extracurricular stuff.

Professor 2: Perhaps it's all in the balancing thing.

Moi: I remember we have some good writers, filmmakers, etcetera.

Professor 2: And you produce a lot of other sorts of graduates too.

Professor 1: What are you looking at me for? Hahaha, I'm so paranoid.

Moi: (glances at paper) Oh, I really trip up a lot with memory work, still have to work on that. Maybe take some brain-enhancing herbs or something, especially for tomorrow's exam.

Professor 2: Which is?

Moi: Pharmacology, doctor. *shudders at prospect of memorizing chemotherapeutic agents*

Professor 2: Ah, good luck. Memorization? Sleep early, you'll need it.

Moi: I'll gladly take that piece of advice, thank you.

Professor 1: How about osmosis?

Moi: That works for me sometimes, when I sleep on my textbook.

Professor 1: Seriously?

Professor 2: Dapat yakap mo, para dinidibdib. (demonstrates sleeping with arms crossed over imaginary book)

*fit of giggles over the silliness of the things we've been discussing*

Moi: Oh gosh. These exams are turning my brain to mush.

Professor 2: Oh, but you're just second year. You wait.

The Year That Was 2008

 
Where did you begin 2008?
At home, I think.  Trying to avoid the smoke and noise from our neighbors who decided to line every available inch of our street with pyrotechnics.

What was your status by Valentine's day of 2008?
Mostly frustrated because I had to skip my ongoing Valentine Santa tradition of giving out chocolates to everyone; I had that weird episode with the left knee going all crazy.  

Oh, you were asking about my civil status or whatnot?  Teehee… 

Did you have to go to the hospital?
Just to get my left knee checked by rehab specialists.

Did you have any encounters with the police?
Traffic police crocodiles who probably desperately needed cash for a quick merienda.

Where did you go on vacation?
It was a vacation mixed with some sort of volunteerism and activism.  :P  You can’t take that away from me.  Taught high school kids in Macarascas (in a tiny place nestled in the forests in the mountains of Palawan) and participated in a Sikaran against mining on Sibuyan (the same island in Romblon where the MV Princess of the Stars almost made it to before capsizing during the typhoon Fengshen).

What did you purchase over $500?
Technically my mom paid for my year’s tuition in med school.

Did you know anybody who got married?
A high school batchmate.

What sporting events did you attend?
Uhm, does the Sikaran count?  I biked around the island, climbed mountains, scaled a moss-covered rock face and jumped into a river.  And I snorkeled around Snake Island in Palawan.  How’s that?

What concerts/shows did you go to?
None, unfortunately.

Where do you live now?
Still shuttling between Manila and Las Piñas, more often in Manila because of med school.

Describe your birthday.
I celebrated my birthday for about three days, with both sides of the family, and with cake, pizza, calzone, and tons of other food I cannot remember.

What's the one thing you thought you would never do but did?
The Sikaran.  Never thought I could withstand biking the rough paths around the island, finish the torturous climb to visit the indigenous Mangyans, and actually jump into a fast-moving and cold river from a height.  And oh, I never thought I could get sunburnt but spending almost six hours snorkeling around the Snake Island in Palawan got me my first sunburn.

Any new additions to your family?
Anya, my goddaughter and niece (she’s the daughter of my cousin, Rachel).  And hmm… some four kittens at home—they’re practically considered family by my dad aka Daddycat.  

What was your best month?
Probably April or May.

Who was your best drinking buddy?
What or which drink?

Made new friends?
Yes I did.

Any regrets?
I like to wave at them as they pass by.

What do you want to change in 2009?
The level of my physical fitness (I want to be able to run like Sam Witwicky in Transformers when he was carrying the cube away from Megatron or maybe kick a$$ like Sidney Bristow in the now-defunct Alias), the state of my (non-existent) finances, the fact that my passport is pathetically empty, the designation of MS2 to MS3,

Overall, how would you rate this year?
Fine, just fine.

Have any life changes in 2008?
Nothing much.

Get a new job?
I wish.  Am still in med school.

How old did you turn this year?
Put the numbers together and they add up to four.  (I think that's my mental age.)

Did anything embarrassing?
Yes.

Get married or divorced?
Married within ten years, divorced hopefully never.

Be honest - did you watch American Idol?
Towards the end.

Start a new hobby?
I now surf the net to look at cupcake and cookie recipes that I plan to make next year; am keeping my fingers crossed the friendly house mice haven’t ruined the oven’s wiring yet.

Are you happy to see 2008 go?
Yes.

Drank Starbucks in 2008?
I think.

Been naughty or nice?
Mostly nice.

What are you wishing for in 2009?
Fulfillment of crazy dreams, good changes, and for the Creator to start taking out politicians and criminals.  (I know the term politicians and criminals are usually synonymous, so forgive the seeming redundancy.  Let’s hope the Creator starts from top down and throw those criminals to the deepest pit of hell reserved for child molesters, chauvinist pigs, and people who cut in line.)

Lost someone?
They’re not mine.

Cut class?
Did I?

Was involved in something you'll never forget?
Yes, yes, yes.

Visited a different country?
Through fiction and my dreams.  (Yes, I’m starting to remember dreams.  And I discovered I dream in both color and black and white.  I wonder when I’ll start dreaming in sepia.)

Cooked a gross meal?
No.

Lost something important to you?
I don’t think I lost anything important or if I’m attached to things I don’t remember losing.

Got a gift you adore?
I adore my new red cardigan, my pillows, my multi-colored pens, my new vials of hair treatment, new bags, and those dark chocolate goodies a friend gave.

Tripped over a coffee table?
I don’t recall any coffee tables suing me this year.

Dyed your hair?
I wish.  Maybe early in 2009, I can go back to Sidney Bristow red.

Came close to losing your life?
I think I actually did die but hell spat me back out.  The river jump almost did me in.  Leaped from an elevation and landed in a river whose depth I had misjudged; I trusted the local kids who told me the river was deep enough for me not to smash my noggin on the river bed’s huge rocks.  Turns out the water was too deep for my own good and the water was a bit too turbulent.  Had an out of body experience—saw my form floating for a millisecond before I snapped back to reality and started swimming to the surface amidst the strong current.

Went to a party?
Yes.

Read a great book?
Do ebooks count?  Can’t afford to buy really good books, no matter how longingly I stare at them inside book shops.

Saw one of your favorite bands/artists live?
No.  That would entail either bringing them back from the dead or a plane ticket halfway around the world.

2008: FRIENDS AND ENEMIES

Did you meet any new friends this year?
Yes.

Did you dislike anyone?
Plenty of times!

Did you grow apart from anyone?
Not really.  We’re just out of phone credit most of the time.

Do you have any regrets when it comes to your friendships?
As was stated above, I like to wave at them as they pass by.

2008: YOUR BIRTHDAY

Did you have a cake?
Black forest, I think.  Not too black because the cake shop skimped on the chocolate shavings.

Did you get any presents?
I think I did.

2008: ALL ABOUT YOU

Did you change at all this year?
Lost some weight and gained it back, got new friends, had a recurrence of asthma, got involved in a lot of things, became more sedate passive, learned to become passive-aggressive, learned to be patient indifferent, became a godmother, changed my favorite color, spent a summer on more worthwhile pursuits, discovered The Beatles, and hopefully became wiser.

Did you change your style?
Style meaning?  I wear a white uniform 90% of the time, I don’t know if you can call that style.

Were you in school?
I still am in school.

Did you have a job?
Technically, no.

Did you drive?
Yes, and had a jolly good time trying to arrange a meeting between my dad and his Maker.

Did anyone close to you give birth?
My cousin, Rachel.

Would you change anything about yourself now?
If I were, I’d keep it to myself.  I like to keep myself unpredictable so that I can smash other people’s expectations right smack in front of their faces.

2008: WRAP UP

Was 2008 a good year?
Fine, just fine.

Do you think 2009 will top 2008?
I will make it top 2008.

I CONFESS THAT IN 2008 I...
( ) stayed single for the whole year
( ) kissed in the snow
( ) celebrated Halloween
( ) had your heart broken
( ) mooned someone
(x) went over the minutes on your cell phone
( ) came out of the closet
( ) gotten someone pregnant
( ) had an abortion
( ) done something you've regretted

OTHER
(x) painted a picture
(x) wrote a poem
(x) ran a mile
(x) shopped at Hollister or Abercrombie and Fitch (window shopping counts right?)
( ) posted a blog on MySpace (LJ forever!)
( ) visited a foreign country
( ) cut in a line of waiting people
(x) told someone you were busy when you weren't
( ) partied to celebrate the new year
( ) cooked a disastrous meal
( ) lied about how old you were
( ) prank called someone

IN 2008 I...
[x] broke a promise
[ ] fell out of love
[x] lied
[ ] cried over a broken heart
[x] disappointed someone close
[x] hid a secret
[x] pretended to be happy
[ ] slept under the stars
[ ] kept your new years resolution
[x] forgot your new years resolution
[x] met someone who changed your life
[ ] met one of your idols
[x] changed your outlook on life
[x] sat home all day doing nothing
[ ] pretended to be sick
[ ] left the country
[ ] given up on something/someone important to you
[ ] lost something expensive
[x] learned something new about yourself
[x] tried something you normally wouldn't try and liked it
[x] made a change in your life
[x] found out who your true friends were
[x] met great people
[x] stayed up ‘til sunrise
[x] cried over the silliest thing (med school has a peculiar thing of doing this to you)
[ ] had friends who were drifting away from you
[x] had a high cellphone bill (sorry, mum)
[x] spent most of your money on food (duh, who doesn't?)
[ ] had a fist fight
[ ] went to the beach with your best friend(s) (how about nice friends?)
[x] gotten sick
[x] liked more than 5 people at the same time (you can't call me a hoor for this one)
[ ] became closer with a lot of people

 

Beloved Friends

I am blessed to be in the company of beloved friends tonight.  I wonder, though, when we will see each other again.  We're all starting new chapters in our lives and slowly drifting apart physically.  Maybe the best thing we all can do is cherish our moments together and keep talking to each other through all means possible.

Back to the 50s and 60s

 
Perhaps it comes from watching Pushing Daisies and Mad Men.  I am officially in love with clothing styles from the 1950s to 1960s.  The silhouettes are so feminine and fun, yet polished and elegant.  This has me wishing I could create my own clothes, or maybe have enough money to burn on having clothes done by a mananahi.

Should I try my luck in Cubao-X?

 

Highlighter Love Affair

Now, I never highlight stuff.  Ever.  If you see me carrying anything with highlights, it's probably borrowed from someone who does the highlighting thing.  It's weird that quite a lot of people still call me out on this habit of mine that stems from the lack of need to highlight stuff during undergrad (I dare you to try highlighting all those symbols and formulae as you go down a reaction mechanism or a phychem problem), trying to preserve the pristine pages of my reading material, the hypersensitivity of my vision to psychedelic neon colors of highlighters, and my own distaste for highlighted text.  Whatever floats your boat, right?  Perhaps it's just archetypal of a med student to be a "highlighter-whore" as a friend put it--the type of person who has a set of all of the available colors and sizes of a highlighter and uses the set liberally, leaving only "a," "of", "the" and "and" uncolored.

Will the Beetle Tip highlighters convert me into a "highlighter whore?"

Pa

He's not the demonstrative kind of a parental unit; he's the total opposite of my mum, who's all hugs and kisses and cooing doves and unicorns and sparkly things. He's gruff, he's weird, he's anti-social, he's moody (must be his artisté temperament), he's stubborn as hell, he's got a dry sense of humor that rarely pops up (as in one in several million light years) and he's mostly silent, save for the rare slightly sarcastic or rough comment. He's quick, decisive, a good strategist, eternally curious about trivia and current events, level-headed and dependable when natural disasters strike, very resourceful, and very loyal. (He might have been a good surgeon or a good military officer, but he decided he was too good for those careers, so he pursued art.) Some might say I might have inherited some traits from him, so perhaps it's the reason why of all the people at home, I can best translate the monosyllabic grunts that suffices for conversation on his part. (It's all in the pitch and the body language, dear household members.) Or because I'm his pet, that I best understand the phrase that he probably inherited from his own dad, "...kunin mo yung ano sa ano..." (I can only translate it as some form of "get the what from the what..." Ano is a used noun here to refer to anything that cannot be named at the moment.) Perhaps it is also our shared traits that sometimes sets my temper off, so sometimes I can be as hostile as hell towards him. And with what, three other females in the household, he sometimes doesn't stand a chance; maybe that's why there are stuff in the house that vaguely resemble phallic symbols-his way of asserting his masculinity perhaps? I was wondering for the longest type how my mum would have fallen in love with a grumpy bat of a man like my dad; of course, I discount the fact that he still charms my mum in some way. He's not the glorified type of dad one sees in those commercials for ice cream, fastfood chains, or telecoms, the type whose arms are the pillars that hold up his kids' worlds, whose chest is for crying on or whose ear is for listening to tales of woe. (The only times I've been held by my dad was during my grandfather's funeral when I was irrationally screaming to be cremated alongside, when my nanny died, and when I was to be restrained to get a shot.) Or the type who was this stern authority figure, the god of the household. Growing up, I envied the kids who had those kinds of dads who would openly show their affection for their sons or daughters or who conducted themselves with a thread of authority normally seen in royalty. Perhaps the best ways that he demonstrated his love were in treating me like a pet or treating me like a substitute son or treating me like an adult. A pet because he treats (or treated) me just like our cats at home - he's (and has been) so content to be my partner in sports, he's happy keeping me "leashed" like cattle (more like imprisoned like a piece of chattel-friends know I don't exaggerate when I say "strict ang parents ko,"), and he's even happier feeding me good food as though he overheard in the radio that ice cream/chocolates/pasta/sinigang were to disappear the next day. A substitute son because he's been teaching me traditionally masculine things like being a sort of a grease monkey, tinkering with household electricals, carpentry, downing spirits during new year's eve, assuming responsibility for the other females of the household, etcetera. (Nope, he hasn't brought me to a strip bar or anything like that. I'm still so much of a feminine creature to 'enjoy' those baser pursuits and he's not really that a vulgar type of person to engage in such.) An adult in the sense that ever since childhood I've viewed him as and he allowed me to treat him as an equal, given that his term of endearment for me was "Ate." (Ate means big sister.) Yup, he allowed me to get mad at him, challenge him, and fuss over him, when other dads would instantly whip out their belts for a spanking. It took quite some time, but I finally realized that my dad does love me, if not in the way that fathers stereotypically do. Just two hours ago, he came to the dorm to pick up some clothes. Hearing me whine about my mild stomach flu, he immediately offered to buy me some lugaw and bananas to soothe my stomach. After I lost a verbal tennis match of refusals on my part and incessant offers on his part, he bought me goto (rice porridge with tripe) and a single banana. Now I know it was only an excuse to get his money changed into smaller bills, but I really appreciated his gesture. Now, I'm also taking his advice not to eat the remaining food in my dorm room's fridge; they might be mutating into alien life forms as I type.

Strength, Courage, and Wisdom

"They subjugate because they fear the power of WOMAN.
They discriminate because WOMAN is beyond their comprehension..
They enslave because they think WOMAN should be under control like an animal or an object.

WOMAN, you are beautiful.
WOMAN, you are brave and strong.
WOMAN, you are intelligent and wise.

WOMAN, you are a person.
WOMAN, you are a rightful citizen of this world.
WOMAN, you are NEVER to be silenced.

WOMAN, you are powerful."

This was inspired by

"I began to question why we accepted the conditioning of our religion and culture which places emphasis on a girl's virtue and not her intelligence; which places little significance on a woman's opinion; which asks a girl to place her self-value in relation to men; which prioritizes marriage and motherhood above self-development and career; and which encourages girls to be silent on the double standards on infidelity, sexism and discrimination and vilence against women." -Monique Wilson

Brainwashing

No matter how the person tries to make me believe otherwise, I cannot do it.

No one should expect me to take things at face value, begging me to keep an open mind when his own mind is so narrow and clouded by fanaticism.  I just can't see eye-to-eye with religious dogma/doctrine on certain issues, and besides, the religion hasn't had a perfect track record when you're talking about science.  (Hello, Galileo?)  Oh, how I hate dogmas-they have a propensity to fool people into believing they can start wars with people who believe in something else.  Such blind "faith" in things written down by other men seems like a load of bull; the things themselves are contradictory and disorganized at worst.  How else can you explain something that supposedly espouses respect for all beings yet at the same time says that only those who belong to the exclusive club of believers are to be given special treatment?

Even if I try to put myself in these dogma fanatics' shoes, I still can't help but think that they're acting so selfishly.  It seems that they are so afraid of the changes that keep coming because such things are beyond their comprehension or those things threaten their position as authorities in the institution.

I'm in a time where my conscience clearly tells me I cannot blindly follow orders in the name of so-called religion.  I say this with conviction.  Just so anyone who reads this might know, I'm at odds with the institution, not my faith.  I'm just so disappointed in how things are being run-I know we're all human, but these leaders need some good kicks aimed at their head.  They were made significant authorities of the institution to move and shake things in the name of truth and what do they do?  It's like being pushed back to the dark ages.

I know I wasn't placed here on this earth to please the people within the institution and those others who blindly follow doctrine to the letter.  My faith is such a personal thing and I'm free to discover things in my own way.  I know I'm under the guidance of God, whom I believe is the ONLY all-knowing and all-powerful being.  I don't need anyone pretending to be like Him, telling me what to do, under the guise of forming my values.  I know what I stand for and I'm continuing to discover more things that may comprise the person that I am and will be.  No one needs to tell me my soul needs this or that, because my soul seeks what it needs, through God and not through any other human being.  It's disturbing that these people view me not as someone who has God-given intellect and free will, choosing to believe they can indoctrinate me into becoming someTHING they can use to further their own ends that are cleverly disguised as something for the religion.

I Miss Biochem

I suddenly miss all the grunt work of undergrad.  Doing the deadly organic chemistry experiments in laboratory rooms without running water.  Identifying unknown substances that look suspiciously like table salt or sugar.  Transferring strong acids inside the fume hood that has a fan that sounds like an airplane taking off.  The endless parade of glassware to be washed and trying to outdo other classmates in the number of breakages incurred in one semester.  Diluting solutions endlessly.  Refilling the containers of distilled water.  Trying to weigh hygroscopic solids in a blink.  Computing for actual concentrations of the solutions by titration, making sure that the final color is as perfect as possible.  Trying to figure out whether the electrons went to the HOMO or LUMO levels.  Waiting for the DNA to run in the gels, then trying to compute for the molecular weights of the sequences from blurry bands on the pathetic x-rays.  Furiously trying to make the distillation set-ups as stable as possible.  Checking for sample purity using the chromatography machine.  Wondering where the purines and pyrimidines really were synthesized from, given certain amino acids and other precursors.  Illustrating the perfect electron clouds.  Scratching out equations of the Beer-Lambert law after uncalibrated readings on the spectrophotometer.  Finally computing for the specific density of a liquid at a certain temperature after six hours of waiting.  Starting over and over a reaction mechanism just because you couldn't figure out which carbon was going to get attacked first by the nucleophilic hydroxyl group.  Inventing new reaction mechanisms just because you could not remember the catalyst for the specific named reaction.  Using the micropipettes with recycled tips.  Trying to make the thesis set-up cooperate because the expensive enzymes were running out. 

This is what studying local anesthetics does.  I miss Biochem.