Forget yesterday, we'll make the great escape

Nothing annoys me more than people who question my decision to stay in the Philippines. True, the way my life is going now absolutely begs the question, but what's the deal with haranguing those who prefer to stay back with relentless appeals to jump ship abroad? I respect my friends' decision to pursue gainful employment outside our country. In turn, I expect the same kind of courtesy for those who want to stay behind.

It's only fair, don't you think? You do what you want, I do what I want.

I've never really stated outright that I don't want to go abroad. I've always maintained that I'd consider the option if the opportunity presents itself. There have been hits and misses here and there, and I have my dreams of touring Asia and the UK, but on the whole, I'm fine with staying put with where I am now.

A friend of mine, who by the way, is one of the smartest people I've met, told me that she had no plans to leave the country because she is needed here. I share her sentiment, although I've never had her courage to own up to it in front of people. A deep seated fear of regretting my words prevent me from doing so.

My stint as a volunteer nurse a year ago, however, cleared up my muddled perspective. I was of most use when I volunteered at the pediatrics ward of the Zamboanga City Medical Center. Despite the exhausting schedule, I realized that I am needed here. Nursing, wherever it is practiced, is service. I'd just prefer to give it to my kababayan first, before others.

To be fair, my staying behind is not all noble. Working abroad would need a lot of paperwork and money. Paperwork is the one thing I hate doing the most, given the bureaucratic red-tape shit we have, and money is the one thing that I do not have in mass quantity. It's been 3 years since I graduated and got my license. The nursing rat race will be the death of me and my fragile ego. Really, try beating a million other nursing graduates who are more gung-ho than you and just itching to leave the country.

My nursing background is nothing stellar. I know that I'm a damn good nurse, yes, but my so-called brilliance is a hands-on kind of thing. It's something that I can't adequately translate to in my resume.

And besides, I have plans of my own, plans to pursue my dreams of getting an MD hitched to my name. I've already done what my family wanted and it's not enough. There's just no substituting what you want with what you need.

Medical school is still hazy at this time. Preparations need to be made, plans to do, things to finish.

Here's to hoping. And dreaming.

Sublimating and marinating

For every screw up I make in the hospital, I mentally bash my brains out with an imaginary magical hammer. It's an unhealthy, really, but this unusual habit seems to be the only way wherein I can expel all negative and horrifyingly embarrassing moments out of my system. On those particularly bad days, my imaginary catharsis turns my brain into mush. *sigh* The powers of sublimation.

Anyhow, my bad days can range from the fickle, shrug-shrug, bad day to the catastrophic, kill-me-now days. For example, one time, I gave the ROD (resident on duty) skin-tape instead of plaster. If you must know, skin-tape is really not sticky enough. I knew that; however, I figured, skin-tape is better than nothing. Actually, it was probably better if I gave nothing at all :D Now, I'm obsessed with plaster! I've got a great roll of plaster around one pen (green), skin tape on the other (black) and transparent tape on the red one :B

One time, my vital sign-taking skills was questioned. I take great pride in my vs skills; it's my most basic skill, requiring finesse and a sense of timing (like, "quick, the baby's sleeping!! RR and HR now!!!" quick). Anyways. I got some really low HRs and really high RRs, so off I go to the doctor on duty. The good doctor pronounced that my vitals were wrong, after taking a good, long 15-second look. Right, doc, sorry doc, I hastened to say. I took those vital signs for one full minute, but sure, you're the boss, I added to myself.

While Ivan thinks it's fairly disgusting, I think that true guts involves suctioning without gloves! A true man (or woman) needs no gloves for pulling out secretions out of bloody ET tubes! Since I never got the fundamentals of suctioning during my college days, I don't find it weird/disgusting/unhygienic to suction with bare hands. More than once, I've gotten a dollop of phlegm on my arms without flinching. I just hold the urge to barf in, run out and handwash like crazy! Suctioning is a procedure that demans more bravado than skill :D You plunge it in, open and close the machine, and voila! tubes are as good as new! Anyhow, my careless disregard for aseptic techniques designed to keep me safe and healthy has made me come to the conclusion that I might be secretly harboring a death wish. *cue Twilight Zone BG music*

Example #1: Suctioning without gloves

Example #2: Ignoring punctured wounds from injections

Example #3: Caring for a patient with PTB. Without a mask :p

It's not that I don't particularly value my health: using gloves, making a big deal out of a tiny puncture wound and using a mask gets in my way all the time. So, I make do without it :D Reckless, but hey, it goes a long way in saving children's lives :D

So far, the biggest and greatest lesson that I have learned in the hospital, particularly in the ward, is to BE KIND, to everyone. Kind goes hand in hand with being humble, and the 2, working together reaps marvelous dividends. When you're kind, people appreciate the things that you do to the point that they don't get mad when you accidently burst their child's soluset :D Another nice thing to learn: swallowing pride. I've swallowed mine whole from the moment I got to the ward, allowing one zealous senior volunteer to teach me the concept of quantity ("Etong quantity kung ilan ung ipapabili niya. I-times mo sa prize, yun na yun") without daring to say that 14 years of education has taught me such arcana already :p

Disconnected by 38 degrees

It's been a month in volunteer limbo and I'll be free in 2 months time, and hopefully, everything about it will be honorable :D Anyway, I've been toying with the idea of extending my stay for another 3 months, on the condition that my "scholarship" holds out, since, despite my initial horrors, everything has been pleasantly, uhm, pleasant, so far.

Contrary to its reputation, the staff over at ward 8 are actually really nice people to work with, real protective of the volunteers from overly hysterical watchers and terror doctors. A few of them, Madams Grace and Gigi, have taken to ogling my ass every time I take vital signs without using proper body mechanics :B

In my initial month, I have:
a. Avoided killing a patient, intentionally.
b. Learned how to scold a watcher older than me.
c. Grown immune to the sound of the cardiac monitor going haywire.
d. Suctioned the guts outs of a preemie while high on caffeine.

Rawr, I am out of practice, having been disconnected from the internet for the past 2 months >:s

Will edit later, for addendums, grammar and overall sense.

Anything but Eight

I now know that this is true: that the things you dread are the things that definitely come to pass and that the chances of it happening is directly proportional to your stress levels. My prayers of "Anything but eight, anything but eight," went unanswered, and like some great cosmic joke, I drew the paper with the words "Ward 8, 7-3", just like that. I just got assigned to Ward 8, the Pediatrics Ward, the One Ward in the hospital that I absolutely had my sights against.

Before applying to the hospital as a volunteer nurse, I sought the expert opinions of those who had the privilege of working at the same hospital. I found out that, on a general level, everyone thinks their ward is the BEST ward and all other departments simply fail. A few examples of the consultations that I had with those enlightened members of the no-pay volunteers:

ME: I'll be volunteering this month. Which ward is best?
Expert 1: Ward 2 is the best. The staff are nice, you get to watch TV, less work, and oh, we have parties every month or so.

(Hmmm, TV. Ward 2=Most Ideal. Besides, my dad worked in Ward 2, so I may get by with my family name alone. On the other hand, it's a chronic ward. Everyone's either in plaster or twitching.)

ME: I'll be volunteering this month. Which ward is best?
Expert 2: OR. We came, we open, we saw your guts!

(Operating Room staff are, like, the elite. Or at least, that's what they like to think. It's really nice, though, to be in the OR, except on elective days, where the OR complex is filled to overflowing. Also, paperwork. Lots of them.)

ME: I'll be volunteering this month. Which ward is best?
Expert 3: Any ward, is fine. Don't go for OR. When you apply for an entry-level position, you'll be a staff nurse. So it's better to learn all you need to know about basic floor duties.

(I'll admit, this is the most sound advice I got. Objective and practical. Two people gave me this advice, and I worship you both.)

ME: I'll be volunteering this month. Which ward is best?
Expert 4: The action is in the ER. You learn LOADS there, CPR, emergency care....In wards all you do is chart and sleep. Where's the learning?

(Where indeed? However, I never liked the ER. I'm too, er, fragile. Besides, ER people are the most likely people to die in case of a terrorist attack. Kidding.)

ME: I'll be volunteering this month. Which ward is best?
Expert 5: Eye Center. Nice easy hours , free internet.

(Internet, hmmmmm?)

ME: I'll be volunteering this month. Which ward is best?
Expert 6: Anywhere, as long as it's not ER.

(Uh-huh.)

So, that got me nowhere fast. Ergo, I'll take whatever comes my way. Except Ward 8.

But, as fate would have it, I did get in to Ward 8. I see a number of disadvantages:

1. I've never had a rotation there. Ever.
2. Kids are scared of nurse. One look at the white uniform and they'll cry/wail/throw a tantrum/pull your hair(!)...
3. Too. Many. Kids. In. The. World.
4. The Pedia Ward is really HOT.
5. Contagious. Lots of contagious things to catch.

As my role in life is to find silver linings in every dark cloud, I rationalized these advantages:

1. I have nephews and nieces and cousins who are potential Pedia patients. Maybe the good Lord directed me to Ward 8 so that I can enjoy treating my family.
2. In looking for a ward, I want variety. The Pedia ward is like the Medical ward in miniature: lots of conditions and procedures to do. I may just enjoy Ward 8 (I mean, I enjoyed pricking babies with vaccine when I was a student. Hihihihi).
3. It's relatively near the hospital canteen.
4. My classmates always said I was good with children. It's the maternal instinct buried in me. And for that matter, I think it'll be buried forever. A stint in Ward 8 is the closest I'll get to having children. I can always adopt.
5. I honestly can't think of anything more.

By this time, I've resigned myself to my lot. Pray, I hope to enjoy my 3-month stint in Ward 8. In the spirit of making lists, I shall end with these resolutions that I need to do before duty begins:

1. Return my body clock to its normal rhythm by sleeping and waking up early.
2. Abstain from all pleasurable things from now on, i.e., TV, computers, movies, rainy days, etc.
3. Solicit for brand new uniforms.
4. Read up on Pediatrics procedures and stuff.
5. Buy the following: 4 colored pen, thermometers, surgical masks, notebook and a new bag.
6. Get a retailer SIM to sell load during duty hours (for the extra money).
7. Learn Tausug as soon as possible.
8. Order a new nameplate that will appendage RN to my last name.
9. Say goodbye to August.

RN from the cubbyhole

It has finally happened. I can no longer claim employment superiority over the unemployed. I have reached the end of my contract and since I am not renewing anything, I must regress to a state that I should have completed upon adding RN to my last name: volunteer duty.

I fret on that phrase. I can't imagine giving out free service for 3 (or 6) whole months, not after watching The Dark Knight. Wasn't it the Joker who said that if you can do something, never do it for free? Too bad hospitals don't share that sentiment.

It's not only the "free of service" part that bothers me. It's the effort required to be a volunteer. Back in college, we only had to do two and half days of duty each week and I'd go home ready to die. And I gained weight (I mean, how can that happen anyway??). How would 3 (or 6) whole months affect me, then?? No more sleeping until noon and doing nothing but laze all day routines for me. Aside from that, it's been a year since my board exams. Gotta bring the old noggin' up to scratch, which is not really an easy thing to do.

Still, without the volunteer time in my resume, I can't get a paying job in any nursing school. I mean, teaching is something that I'd like to eventually do. Does not really leave me much of choice, does it?

So, I'm applying as a volunteer nurse at ZCMC this August, and if accepted, I'll start my trips to the hospital this September. To make sure I don't chicken out (again), I've completed all lab works and requirements using my meager savings. That way, I'll really, really, really, push through with this prospect, although I still have to decide if I'll sign up for 3 months or 6 months of duty. That can wait until Monday.

On that note, hospitals are supposed to be a place full of care and compassion, but as I discovered within 3 hours of completing laboratory tests, it's a place so devoid of emotion, it's depressing.

Lab tests went fine, although the stool exam was ickier than usual (I had to transfer the sample from my film container on to the glass vial, since accordingly, film cases went out of fashion months ago :s).

A new thing to do this time was the police clearance. This required a picture, taken at the station itself. The need to smile when in front of the camera is so ingrained in my system that I had to decide whether, wait for it, to smile or not to smile. Whatever my mom said to reassure me, this was going to be a mug shot! I tried to practice a half smile while waiting my turn, but it made me look constipated, so I chose not to smile. I posit thus: you do not smile when you're having your mug shot taken.

Anyway, despite the not-so-good photo of me (which I plan never to show anyone for as long as I live) I discovered that if I didn't smile, I ended up looking uncannily like my dad. If I smiled (which I usually do, thank God), I resemble my mom's side of the family (finally).

All that's left now is for my application letter and my photocopied documents, and I'm all set. On Monday, I'll be sealing this deal. I'll be missing paid work and employment, but I'm sure that after 3 (or 6) months of sacrifice, I'll be handling 3 blue ones every 15 and 30 once again. Bully for that day.

Finding Sidney

Found Sidney Sheldon's first book, the Naked Face, in the trash bin yesterday, in between two baby kittens.

It was covered with kitty amniotic fluid and by-products, but a little alcohol did the trick :D

Now, please God, if only I could find Jeffrey Archer's Kane and Abel...

champions!!

sheesh, it's such a lame title, but that's the best that i can do now, so do cut me some slack. the point is, i am so freakin' happy that i am boring everyone to death with my stories of pre, intra and post championship experiences!

how sweet it is to snag gold when everybody expects otherwise. joining the futsal team for the fiesta of 2006 was a crazy idea me and rich concocted, with lots of delusions and no sense of reality whatsoever. i opted to go for volleyball, where at least i knew what i was doing, but i wanted something new. and my ego craved for attention.

at tryouts (was there a tryout??) i realized that we were super-'mongos'...i mean, come on! if we intended to take on the whole ateneo for futsal and have a fighting chance at..at..something...then we ought to have varsity players in our team. not quite for the nursing dudes. heh, the best we had were a month or so of basic training, which if you think about it long and hard, was chicken-shit compared with other teams who were practicing strategy instead of passing drills. lawd, what have i done...

and this ragtag bunch of inexperienced women came out on top! whew, the pressure on moi (i was goalie...people said i was good...actually, i almost died from a massive coronary facing accountancy...hehe...but i did good i guess....man, look at the score!) was so great i wanted to quit then and there. but i'm glad i didn't....truly a rag to riches to story...hehem in your fez!!! it feels so good, i just can't stop..

anyway, my congratulations and thanks....

to kayeh, for forcing us to join. she's my captain and my EIC
to richelle, for convincing me to go through with the madness
to carmie, for being such a great defender and for covering my ass everytime i fumble
to pompeyo and sir richter (and sir al, and everyonw who had pity on us), for the drills and the encouragement (yep, i can handle a ball very well now thank you) for coaching us and guiding us noobs to glory, for being there
to madeth and riza, for scoring thus eliminating the need for three kicks (if it did, you guys would be burying me right now)
to kaye, dixie, goyang, lj for being so cute that i could not leave the team even if i wanted to (perv!!!)
to all the teams who dissed us and made fun of us, for pissing me of that i did my best in blocking your every shot..haha...no seriously, thanks for the great game...karmaic retribution, that's what i call it
to the nursing div, as kayeh said, thanks for the 1ooo g's...it was great to know that you alloted a 100 pesos each for our uniforms, training practices, food, water, ride home, coach, shoes, panties, towels, candies, knee pads, barf bag and all that...
to the prodigy 07, for the support and cheers...it meant a lot!
to the seniors' booth, for allowing me to go on credit/utang after every game
to my fans, for admiring me (hehe)
to my mom, for not pulling me out of the team upon seeing me limp all tha way home and for putting oil on my bruises
and to God, for answering our prayers for glory!!!

*sings we are the champions for the nth time!*

now that i'm in my senior year on my final semester, i can't help but feel nostalgic about leaving the warm confines of college to become a full-fledged adult. the responsibilities of being one is daunting, especially when i will start working somewhere. now, i have my CI to blame, er, consult if i'm unsure. a few months from now, i'll be going solo. a few months more, i may be out of a job!!!

contemplating these things, i wondered what i would miss the most after i leave the ateneo. tops were: my weekly allowance, the library, my teachers....not!, the library, the soccer field, the library and the library...and oh, the library.

yes, the library, the first friendly institution that welcomed me into the academic womb that is the ateneo. it's the first and about the only thing that i brag about to my friends out in wmsu...and the ateneo fiesta too, but the library, with all its air-conditioned glamour elbows its way to the spotlight. i wonder what i would do without the library to house my sleepy carcass on extremely warm days.

most people think that i go to the library to worship my librarian and to read my daily dose of porn books (y'know, those books that have words like "unbridled passion" or "flaming romance" in their back cover summary), and they're absolutely right ^^ i do love my library (yes, i said my). it's the home to me as the canteen or the now nonexistent catwalk was the hotspot for others.

as i experienced on my first day back, an hour without the library leads me to semi-autism. i walked around town feeling lost, as if i actually lost one of my limbs just because the library was closed. seeing the lib closed is like the biggest shock of my life. i can see the computer center closed or the sanggu closed, but my good old dependable lib??!! never!!?? now i know what an amputee feels like.

now that my days of frolicking between the rows of books are over, i'm spending as much time now in the lib, just absorbing the cool air and raising electricity bills. i used to hide books before, but now i have changed my mind. someone has yet to return anne rice's works and it is deriving me of my usual doses of porn! whoever you are, blast you, you infidel!unhand those books i say!release them!!!

teh midterms

prepare to meet thy doom!!! midterms is here!!

it's tomorrow for Pete's sake! tomorrow! and what am i doing? logging on the internet, relying on divine intervention for my academic salvation.

this is no way to survive school, but i have been doing it for so long that it actually works. oh, i want to kill myself sometimes for goofing off on such an easy question, but since i usually pass my exam, the urge to hang myself by my thumbs (hmmm, will that actually kill me?) simply disappears.

speaking of urges, my urge to study is completely in snooze mode. it does not help that i only have 20 or so pages worth of written lecture when photocopied lectures reach around, oh say, 50-70 pages. this is suicide, dude. i do have a decent memory, but it is only good on a short-term basis. everything i studied for the past weeks for my quizzes have leaked out and i have to start from scratch.

anyway, here's to hoping myself a good midterms. not that i'm looking forward to facing it.

this sucks soooo much.

oh well.

<3

inside somebody else's mind

the pinnacle of my nursing days...to be assigned in the famed ward 9.

i always made it a point to avoid passing ward 9 during my duties in the hospital. although i know for a fact that madness is not communicable, i was still scared shitless that by some cosmic anomaly (more like punishment and damnation) would fall on me and i'd be a looney for the rest of my life.

you'd have thought that we were lathered with glue, the way me and my groupmates stuck together on our first day in the war zone. you would too, when the patients would swarm around you, touching your shoulder and staring at you as if you were an exhibit in a museum chronicling the saga of human madness. one guy touched my arm and started raving about my braces. soon everyone was raving about my braces. the number of times i had to smile in that ward...

the thing about being in the ward is that you become unsure of yourself. it takes a toll on you, emotionally and physically, to be inside that ward since you have to keep reminding yourself that you are sane and that they aren't. you're suppose to guide them back to reality, not encourage their delusions and imagination. but then, guiding these people back to reality is tough. constant reminder of who you are and where you are, are essential in keeping yourself normal for the first few hours inside. the temptation to let go and pretend, that yes, kissing everyone on the first meeting, is very strong.

part of the routine in the ward is to take care of your patient's hygiene. yes, hygiene. when the mind goes, everything else follows. personality, hygiene and clothes...off, then gone. thankfully, my patient was well enough to do hygiene herself...i just had to supervise and remind her of some things but other than that i had it easy in the ward. after all, my friends had to spend at least 30 minutes inside the makeshift bathroom with their patients stripping and bathing.

as the hours go by, apprehension soon wears off and appreciation settles in. by appreciation, i mean that we start to see theory in action. discussions inside the room are seen in the patients' behaviour; not that we learn that much in the classroom, mind.

there are some exasparating moments--they are crazy after all, but an experience inside ward 9 can be surreal. i was unnerved by the fact that most of them knew that they were crazy and why they were there. if a person can tell you frankly that she's crazy, then is she really crazy? they were not the picture that we often see in television or read in books. true that some go berserk and have to be isolated, but most are, well, normal to say the least. how do you then classify crazy?? >.>

some moments are touching. once an inmate went nuts and started stripping inside the cell. when this happens you just don't walk up the cell and talk to the guy; you run (for the duration of my duty, i was scared...all the time...). on and on he went, screaming, begging, prostrating himself on the cold floor. unexpectedly, it was another inmate who managed to calm him down. she went by the door and started cooing and stroking the old man's face. soon, his screams subsided. frankly, i was amazed. it seems that even though their sanity is gone, the essence of being human is still within the recesses of their minds. that need to comfort and be comforted is there, existing, thriving and yearning...no sane person dared do that. one insane inmate did. in that aspect of caring, they are better than most sane people i know.

socialization came in on our last day. hah! amazing how these people love to sing old Tagalog ballads, to the point that i was on the brink of stupor and sleep--a no no in ward 9. they dance too--shuffling is more like it. games are carefully planned. you don't want these people arguing over who should win or lose now, don't you? in the karaoke session, my microphone gets handled by more than one inmate. not to be prejudiced or anything, but rumors of tuberculosis are present inside the ward (as told to me by one inmate) so i kept my microphone sealed inside the cellophane when i came home. i plan to dump it in hot water. hopefully, nobody at home will miss it.

years

i am getting old...

last night, we held our club's commitment night. it's an annual event, and in my 3 years of being a psalmista, i have always attended this event, as a participant. this year, however, i went in as an organizer. and it has taken its toll on my frayed nerves.

most new members were freshmen and sophomores. hyper is an understatement, manic is more like it. i watched their activities with ambivalence, fond and happy but at the same time annoyed and irritated. as i said, it does not take a big thing to irritate me. i find that the little things irritate me most, like when somebody talks to loud or acts girly. i know, God help me.

the fact remained that i felt completely out of place. granted, i am not that old but i felt i was a good 20 years older than my age, the way i acted. i have never been comfortable with a large group of people, much more young people. how in earth am i suppose to engage them in genuine conversation where they won't be secretly wishing me to roll over and die?

after the opening programs, we had some games and i sat out. not good for my bones. and yes, i thought it was extremely cheesy. i am seriously thinking of kicking my own ass for being so...so..so...uhm..difficult.

sleep time came, and all were huddled together in classic-slumber party style, where girls divulge their secrets and boys get to be boys. seriously, i have outgrown that phase as well, and i never liked the talking part anyway. i can't relate to their stories. i felt waaay too old to be part of their group. sure, seniority has its advantages, but not at that time.especially when you easily get bored with talks of boys, ghosts and boys.don't get me wrong, their good kids. i'm just too old.

i wanted to have an intelligent conversation with someone, someone who could talk sensibly and preferably in tagalog not in english, because for me, english outside the classroom is irritating to my ears. i wished for someone who could sit still and share some moments of silence. i found two or three but i got bored. to say that i was more intelligent than them is pompous. but that's what i felt. too intelligent for them, too complicated.

unlike them, i am not simple-minded. sometimes but not often, because i get angry with myself. as i curled all alone last night, at an early hour while all were still up and talking, i wished for the old days of commitment night. egotistical as it may seem, i wanted to have the attention to myself and be the baby of the group, as i was before now. previously, i got to be pampered, spoiled rotten by my seniors, and my aunt pointed out that i always wanted to be with older people. it's the attention that fuels this desire. it is gratifying to be appreciated for who you are.

that's what i tried to do to the new members. to make them feel welcomed and appreciated. but 3 sentences of short talk is my limit and i ended up fumbling with the pillow, mumbling incoherently. i looked like an idiot, when i wanted to prove that i was intelligent beyond my years.

i retired to bed early. boredom, exhaustion and my age made me do it.

i am getting old.

go to hell, you!

it does not take much to tick me off this days. i'm getting quite a reputation among my seatmates as the resident hothead. one likely reason would be my period, but then,the uterine cycle of renewal has already such a bad reputation that i digress.

periods don't tick me off. teachers do. particularly inept and incompetent teachers. inept, incompetent and gay teachers, and i don't mean gay as happy. gay as in gay--homo, fag...that's about the extent of my gay vocab but you get the point. trust me, if your gay teacher was my teacher, you'll be wishing for an air gun waaaay before christmas.

i don't have problems with gay people, normally, since i tend to avoid them and unfashionable slobs like me hardly attract their attention. i have noticed that gay people tend to lean towards women who are sophisticated, mature, fashinable and well-groomed (kris and boy, anyone?)...but yes, i find them nice and good, irritating sometimes and arrogant, but nevertheless tolerable.

however, gay teachers are a different matter. nursing students, as a rule, are critical and observant (read: bisyador), and gay people are critical people, a higher degree than the normal homo sapien, too. what do you get when you mix the two? a kick-ass critical bitch, whose pastime are bitching and prancing.

my teacher/s exactly. i want nothing but good lessons and good teachers. gender does not matter. in this case, it does. for the past week, my lessons under gay teachers have all been imitations of MMK meets Oprah meets Tyra Banks meets the MAD tv show. it's pissing me off, and i don't get pissed off, 5 minutes into the class. that is an extreme number, given that i have the patience of a patient gone comatose.

overreacting?maybe but i prefer maybe not. how would you feel if all your teacher did was bitch, criticize, scrutinize, and made rude and below-the-belt remarks? or if he is a racis, but does not think he is? or if he thinks he's a god just because he went to this college, or trained in this so-so institution? or if he thinks he's a psychologist, that he has the right to analyze those experiences of yours, marking you out as a weird, non-existent entity just because you never had a relationship with the opposite sex? or if he looked like glenda, the gender-confused doll of the seed of chucky? oh, c'mon now. bite me.

i survive the hours by not paying attention and by exercising my creative abilities. these has produced good results. my drawing skills, while still pathetic at some points, are becoming better and better. i even have my first color-pencil rendered anime girl (without reference!). the other times, i make snide comments with my seatmates, calling my instructor names and wishing i had a slingshot with me. but then, my heart rate only shoots up and i suffer from the shock and pressure of not being able to scream and pull my instructors' hair off. that is so gay.

the perils of the stool exam

spare a thought for all the medical technologists out there, who suffer the brunt of the hospitals' 'dirty works' everyday. the process of obtaining urine, sputum, blood and, que horror, stool specimens is disgusting as is, but to slosh though other people's undesirable body samples at such close proximity with only a cm thin layer of latex serving as buffer, is nothing short of heroic.

as nursing students, it is required for us to undergo laboratory exams to ensure our serviceability, so to speak, to the hospital we are affiliated with (it's like, so that the patients don't get anythinng harmful from us. but the students' health? oh, fugghedaboutit...). urinalysis i can do. hepa and drug exams? no biggie. sputum? never done that, but 'tis to'lable. but come the damn stool exam, my stomach does major Olympic-standard backflips. This has got to be the yuckiest exam designed by man in white coats with a macabre sense of humor. It's an essential exam for us nurses, where a positive result can mean doomsday for case-deprived students. essential, but still disgusting. poking my own stool is not something i enjoy doing. egad. luckily for me, my stool sample was negative for any parasites. this means no stool-poking-in-the-early-morning-after-laxative-binge-at-night sessions for me, for at least six months.

stool exams are common conversation fare amongst nursing students come enrollment time. some snatches of conversations from people suffering from indigestion, constipation and diarrhea:
"hoy, doys! ya kaga ya bo? miyo de bo tai ha?" (hey, buddy? you defecated yet? i'll have your stool, ok?)
"tiene ya tu tai? dale daw..." (do you have a sample stool yet? c'mon, gimme some..)
"pwede tu ase di miyo stool exam para kumigo?" (can you do my stool exam for me?)
"shit, nukere gat yo kaga. panus de lata ya yo ta kome para pwede lang kaga!" (shit, i can't defecate. i ate spoiled canned goods just to be able to defecate!)
two points: these are disgusting conversation fare and second, food poisoning is a fate better than no duty.

stool exams are unpredictable. for some reasons (like, improper collection, inept technicians, faulty laboratory procedures), they come positive. or worse, the hospital misplaced your sample and they can't find it! either way, you have to undergo the process again..and again...depends on whether lady luck is by your side. this is the case of my brother. as of now, i am eating a plateful of oatmeal in hopes of stimulating my gastrointestinal system to move faster and churn out the blasted feces. thanks to psychological blocks and an irregular defecating schedule,.

in school, we are taught not to be disgusted with our own stool. it's not advisable to show disgust or reprimand young 'uns when they play with their stool, since it'll make them think that their bad and dirty. after all, at that age, children know that everything that comes out from them is theirs, and like, there is nothing wrong if they share it with you. if you do, they may become cleanliness freaks or OC people. it has something to do with Freud's psychosexual theory of development. technically, stool is nothing more but indigested food materials, and ceratin body waste and water. it's something that should be embrace as yours. but it's still disgusting. in this case, my psychosexual development was probably dysfunctional.

morning bloopers

t'was the perfect day for sleeping--dark clouds, thunder and lighting, rain for good measure. too bad i had my 7-3 duty at ciudad this morning. i had to drag myself from the bed to the kitchen, cook my breakfast and snored in front of the stove for approximately 15 minutes until my mom prodded me awake again.

7 am duties are the hardest for me. it's really tough to be at your area before seven, much more wake up at an earlier hour for that to be possible. for the nth time, i mused the time commuting away thinking as to what compels me to wake up at such an ungodly hour during summer. lateness and absences are always open choices; the thought of paying back duties (with pay and probably alone with a sleep-deprived ci-believe me these are the worst sorts), however, is enough incentive to splash ice-cold water on my face.

i arrived early, with 15 minutes to spare. i find it relaxing to be the first to arrive, earlier even, than the ci themselves. gives me time to relax and pray for the duty ahead. but it is disconcerting to find yourself, still alone, after the clock struck seven. give or take, there are people with you by this hour. hmmm, maybe i misread the fine print made on the schedule last time, idk... this wasn't good.

my ci arrived (finally). my groupmates, didn't. it turned out that they didn't get the sked changes (which i almost didn't too, if it weren't for my buddy marc) so they were all still in dreamland, confident that duty won't start until 3. had to kill time with my ci until 7:45 before he went down to call the level coordinator (cough, cough-home!!-cough) to decide as to what to do with (cough-home-cough!) such a model student (home!!-cough!). i got assigned to the other group under a ci i disliked.

ho-hum, fine. i was willing to go--after all i did spend 30 pesos on my fare. presented myself to the said ci, flashing my braced-clad smile, got told off for not bringing my lab results (which i didn't bring because i forgot it because it has been like a year since i went for duty there) and was promptly sent home. oh not before she marked me absent, which will mean that i will do some payback by sometime this year..again. lawd. so much for my model-record.

i got to talk to my ci....an absent?!?! ^&*^(&amp;&()&*()*!!!!

the afternoon report

my taste of the afternoon duty can be summed up with this word: oh

the afternoon shift covers the 3pm-11pm hours and, typically, it drags. last april 3-5, i had a taste of it for the first time evah for my summer duty. here's how it went.

i was in nervous distress for the last week, preparing my mind and body (by snoozing for hours) for the duty ahead. monday came and i woke around ten, uptight and tense. i took a bath at around twelve, tried to eat lunch at 1, tried to relax by two and left at 2:30 for the hospital. i passed by my cousins' compound since i had to drop of something, meaning i had to pass the local 'tambays' which consisted of the pre-req adults without jobs, kids without respect and people acting like they have a life but who actually don't. my type A (all white) uniform so mystified these people the snotty kids had the nerve to ask me to 'check' them small jewels of theirs. i'd gladly check them out with my scissors but i was running behind schedule. tough luck.

aside from being the most dragging shift there is, i was assigned in the most boring ward, for the risk of being repetitive, eva. ortho ward/neuro. this is a chronic ward where patients stay for almost 3-5 months on their backside, with skitty and clumsy wire stuffs and metals sticking out of their bodies at different (often unbelievable angles). the neuro ward is really messy. this is where accident-ed people end up so expect lots of blood, gore, sweat, slime and exudates to come accross your way. ortho is better than neuro, considering that all the guys there are just waiting to bust their asses out to freedom; neuro is tedious. like, vital signs every hour, neuro-vital signs every 2, medicines, positioning, feeding...well you get the point. there was one guy who came in, and lawd he was a mess. his case required a lot of attention and monitoring and all the while he was delirious, moaning and thrashing about until he had to be restrained. those are the cases where you wish that you had a higher power to heal, to authorize medicines and operations. but you don't. it's a bummer but basically that's that.

our ci, sir joel was cool. i actually enjoyed the duty with him. plus my group was totally rad. we had fun doing things together, creating names for our patients (lapu-lapu...ahehe), helping each other out. by the second day, we had a new staff nurse on duty for the 3-11 shift and he was a great guy. he allowed us to stay in the nurses' area, bantering with the group, throwing questions at us and demonstrating the way to operate some nifty stuff in the ward. now that's a staff nurse...and a ci..and an rle group..ahehe

we ended our stint in ward 2 with a party for ourselves. ice cream, chicken, veggies and munchkins made our day (eherm night) and we became a boisterous crowd when we began taking pics (yeah, for the luv of God). hehe the nurses and the patients didn't mind. nuh-uh. not one itty-bitty bit.

glad that's over. now i can snooze once more till twelve without worrying about varicose veins. that is until next week.

pre-board musings

the board exam is, like, the Simon Cowell for nurses. it pokes its ugly head and decides whether you, o great sufferer, are worthy to pass on to the profession that is nursing or if you would end up as another statistic of unemployed noypis.

to give us a taste of what the board is going to be, we took a pre-board exam yesterday, consisting of 250 questions (lame, lame, lame ^^) covering lessons on Medical-Surgical nursing from the 1st to the 2nd quarter. considering that this was scheduled after the finals and very well into the few days of vacation, grumblings, gruntings and curses abounded. i, having the confidence to take on such an exam, decided to go commando- eherm, that is i went to take the exam without opening a lecture. what for? it wasn't counted anyway. i'll just bring shame upon myself if i fail. big deal. its vacation for crying out loud!! and you expect me to study??

this sentiment was likewise shared by my classmates, who in the years gone by, have grown steadily apathetic and hard-headed (my kind of people..mwehehe). majority of the class really did not give a shit about the exam, except for the chosen few who are just really weird ^^.

the tests included items from cardio (i think i did pretty well here), digestive (most frustrating--i knew that i knew the answers..i just couldn't remember the freaking answer!), fluids and electrolytes (kill me now- i totally screwed this one), respi (ditto), oncology and pedia/geria (hmmm, taken from the final exam..lazy teachers...mwehe) and psycha (don't ask) subjects. honest evaluation will show that i am deficient in some subjects but i do fairly well relying on memory and stock knowledge. i just need to move it from the short-term mem to the long-term one ^^

i did not bother checking my score afterward (no biggie-besides, the proctor's face was twitching and turning nasty). in my humble opinion, the pre-board is not really indicative of whether i'll pass the actual exam or not. firstly, nobody was in the mood. second, we had no threats nor pressures of passing nor failing. thirdly, the questions were fairly easy (copied from the last exam, no less). so what if i fail??really, like the results of the preboard is worth crying for. lawd, teachers can be so overrated. gag me please.

i can honestly say that i will pass (!!!) the board when it comes. its just a matter of circumstances and concentration, plus a little bit o' luck.

on finals and beyond

divine intervention allowed me to exempted in 4 minor subjects, leaving me with only (!) 2 exams to worry about. *rejoice, rejoice* it does feel great when your efforts pay off. ^^ *grins* by next year i will be a senior (yikes!) and hopefully i can adjust again to the new rules, regime and as always, teachers. *wink, wink* wish me luck.

funny things keep happening to me. not funny as in har-har funny, but funny as in the weird and scary funny. granted it usually does not happen to me for i am a lousy, by-the-book person, it was a first...and what an experience.

first thing: remember the case defense. yaaaaa, that defense. the group was coming in pretty late with the paperwork and despite the fact that i have been editing the freaking articles for 1 week straight, little devils in the form of typos, wrong information and inconsistencies within the pages keep croppin' up!!! the only way to keep up with the massive (yes, massive. i had to delete one whole chapter..lawd!) editing was to meet up late after class or early in the morning. problem was, nobody in their right mind (except me ^^) was willing to do the pm sessions (classes, rawr) and am sessions were taken for case presentations (we just had to be there). however, a desperate chicken's gotta do, what a desperate chicken's gotta do. dragging the cranky old laptop, me and carm hid out in the second floor of the lib, confident that no one would venture up there during that early hour. my senses however told me that this was a bad, bad idear. 15 minutes through, my ci went up to us and we were screwed...SCREWED i tell ya!!! moments of shock prevented any words from forming in my mouth. Lawd, that was embarrasing. we trooped down and luckily, that ci didnt squeal on us, although she shot very nasty glances our way once in a while. talk about a dip in icy water. my heart went barruumph, barrummph. what a way to start the week. ^^

second thing: i am not a fan of my religion teacher. i just had to have her. she's a former nun, and as much as i respect them, you just cant expect anything exciting from them in a topic as juicy such as marriage (told you i am a pervert ^^ lawd, i am soooo perverted!!!). on top of that, she was boring, defensive, closed-minded....to cut the story shorter, the whole lot was dissatisfied with how she handled this class ( i mean, why can't we have sir alex!?!? or sir ubando?!?!?) my classmates decided to write a letter to the religion department, complaining of things and we signed it. i did too. hey, my grade was 86 for crying out loud. my whole college career was marked by consistent niners in religion. feeling vengeful, i signed. and woe betide us.

our teacher came in for our exam last monday and had a heart to heart talk (sob) with us, sarcasm dripping her everiy word, trying to make us guilty and admit that we were wrong. blighted devils that we are, nobody flinched. yeah, we were on offense, baby. i concede that we were wrong on some poins, but you dont tell that in front of everyone unless you want to die early. so i answered a couple of questions, dodging most issues and planted on an indifferent/bored face for the whole hour.

i have no conscience, by the way, so nope, i dont feel sorry. *devilish grin*

defended!

after eons of sleepless nights the dreaded day of case defense finally came...and i survived!

like any endeavor, good and bad experiences arises. the good thing, i got to know new people, visit grand houses and learn a whole lot about something. bad thing, my eyes went all puffy as the case defense drew near, and bouts of nausea and vomiting ensued. my stomach, can go off during very odd times. anyway, lazy people always abound in the group, so that pretty much spoils everything. not that this project will determine if i stay in the college or not. but the presentation will be presented in front of the whole 3rd year batch (and a few ogling 4th year and SPN students). that is incentive enough to work like a horse, going home only to change clothes. it even prompted me to drink an energy drink which kept me awake for 24 hours. needless to say, i was in snoresville for double that time.

the presentation went without a hitch but we snagged a couple of nasty comments along the way. we argued the merit of our case to one prejudiced judge (In my humble opinion, of course). i mean, if you would like to point out something that is out of place, then do so. its pointless to go 'round and 'round the bush before coming back. it wastes a lot of precious time and frankly it pisses everyone of.

then there's this thing with people who like to feel important. we are a pretty tight batch and it is the general consensus that thou shall not question thy batchmate in any way that is offensive or that can lead them to further humiliation and harm. tomatoes please....this guy (he's my batchmate, but he is so unimportant that nobody gives a damn if he exists or not...maybe that's why he tries so hard to be pompous) feels that he is such a god and that his questions should merit him the adoration of everyone. he asks stupid and pointless questions because he is stupid and pointless. if it were to me, i would hang him by his fat thumbs. but you can't have everything in life. rotten tomatoes please..........

several people really shined during the presentation. my friend, mark impressed me by the way he answered the questions. by the time their group finished, we were worshiping him as the lord of all answers. actually he is also the demi-god and chief of the pervert's club, of which i am a member...ahehehe...anyways, the batch also had discovered a veritable mine of actresses and actors. jame, starred in 2 films (as a guy and as a girl), jade was a coffee-holic suffering from ulcer, thara (our very own) was a bleeding and battered wife. i myself, vied for the best supporting role in my acting debut as a blabbermouth. egad.

the cases were closed and we returned to our normal routines with bruised egos. the verdict: not bad, not bad...glad its finally over..

fast break!

im in my school's computer room, so forgive me if i seem to rush *looks behind for peepers*

i dont know why im logged on to the net, instead of actually meditating for my duty later. it unnerves me, this blatant disregard for school life.

the only thing that keeps me busy nowadays are these: blogging and forums. here i try to maintain a certain semblance of regularity by dropping in once in a while, talking nonsense. in forums, i am striving to pretend that i know something about a thing which i actually know nothing about. the good part is, im actually learning here. lesson 1: dont pretend you know something when you dont: it shows. and it is embarrasing as hell.

duty-literally-calls. i cant even relax this days anymore.

junior bliss and blues

now that i think about it, i'm a junior.

*silence

that's basically the train of thought that bothered/delighted/surprised me now that i have the time to actually do nothing.

so, for the sophies, freshies and those who are still below the junior line, some tidbits on the bliss and blues on being a junior:

bliss:
1. you get to lord your presence over people. seniors are still ahead of you in this department, but they pretty much let you have you way. training for your primadonna days to come..^^v
2. tardiness and absences privilege. contrary to popular beliefs, teachers are pretty lenient with your lateness and absences. see those upperclassmen strutting their stuff? they're actually late. but do they care?nooo000o...
3. pasang awa grades. teachers do have hearts. as juniors and seniors, they tend to pass you for the sake of passing. kakaawa naman rin pag nahulog ka pa sa minors mo for the nth time.
4. great schedules. for some, mind you. you do practically nothing. even in duty hours you get lots of free time (you coerce the younger years to do the job for you,ahihi)
5. daydreams. this is the year where you get to dream. remember the adage 'so near yet so far? holds true here. you'll start planning your future, even start networking and all. be careful, mind. dont count your chickens until they hatch.

and then some. ok for the flip side.

blues
1. pressure. yeah they still exist. double even. not only in the academic arena, but in the extracurricular activities as well. remember, you are the next in line for the leadership department in your college so most of the brunt of the work is bequethed to you and your lazy a$$. holds true for nursing students. pressure to study is definitely here
2. exam prospects. you get the jitters for the exams (i.e. board, CG..) this early. you see your seniors suffering and it actually transfers. no wonder the fashion statement for the juniors are racoon-eyes and saliva-crusted lips.
3. hypochondriac-syndrome. too much exposure and studying of diseases will cause you to manifest the symptoms. dont be surprise if you actually start suspecting that you have ulcer, cancer or are pregnant. its part of the job. hmm...are you???

not much blues neh?? actually i dont like to delve more into it.

see you in your junior years.