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Unknown


Why do people always get the wrong first impression sometimes? They always thought doctors don't have a life, don't have a sense of humor, and just modestly serious. They thought we are one dignified humorless human being.

Why can't doctors be lighthearted, flamboyant, flashy, goofy, loud, ostentatious or swanky? For sure, our society dictates and insists what type of personality we should be acting in a role only a few were granted to have, Gods assistant for healing. For sure too, nobody wants their body to be entrusted to a cuckoo doctor. Of course, doctors have no right to be insane, or be foolish in treating their patients. That's why you can't expect them getting ridiculously comical inside the consultation room or that would be unlikely. I can't imagine laughing it out over an ailment, could you?

But on the contrary, they have the right to laugh and become wacky over themselves. To drink and be merry like normal people does. Outside, when we are not in our white coats, we are just ordinary human being. Who knows, you might see us in Bakbak drinking and laughing, or at K1 singing and dancing and you enjoyed how we make a fool over ourselves, then until such time you find out we are a doctor, you change your mind.

Some doctors become engulf with these silent mandate from the society, they turn out to become sobered and stern. Perhaps in witnessing the magnitude of a disease progression, there was no time to laugh. But hey, after all, this is our life. Life is what we make it, so they say. I hope these type of doctors would remember to laugh again.

I remember med school and how wacky we were out there (yo! Augs Bulai!). Medical students are extended adolescents. We don't mind much since time's not on our side. We didn't have time to write blogs or to go to bars all the time, we had a way of just simply take off the boredom inside school or outside during parties. None of us were working students. How was it possible? We went to school early in the morning till early in the evening, then we studied at night or we party at night (sometimes). Hospital duties were 24 hrs too. Well, what was it to worry except keeping the grades to a passing mark, joking it out when all got the reds (happy valentines day on the grade-posting bulletin board). We were scholars of our parents or a wealthy sponsor, and all we have to do was study, or should I say, cram studying.

So, whenever we are out there with our friends, even to this day, we too act like you. We laugh and play, we quarrel and make up, we also worry about our bills too (not grades now). We can be naughty and mischievous, and cunning or whiny at times. Yet most of all, we longed to spend time with our love ones too, just like all of you.

Unknown
I have been trying to decipher what I longed in my life. A lot has been given now by our Almighty but I still need to achieve more. Was it truly the saying that man (or woman) doesn't satisfy himself (or herself)?

After all the code blue and code red, code white and code black, intubate here, there, ASAP, Now, STAT, run go move, think accurately but think fast.....One great moment to save someone's life at the brink of death is one great leap to a euphoric disposition... . So now what?

Post-residency and post- ICU days, it seems that my life went to a halt. Yes, frozen like a toad mortified in the pond of ice cold water. I get flustered, and I don't like it.
For 3 months now, I've been dealing with OPD consultations, walk-in patients, and possible admissions. And what do I deal with?

  • * Students who sometimes came to me with their own self-made diagnosis;
  • * Ladies who came for documentation of a slap on their faces but without a slap mark (what would I write on the medical certificate?);
  • * Teens complaining of their breast getting bigger (it's just their growth hormone);
  • * People who want to avail their sick leave, so they complain to you:
  • * They have cough without fever;Or flu without symptoms; Or just anxious of 0-3 rbc on urine; Or walks towards you limping after accidentally hitting their ankle, but walked out straight after receiving the medical certificate.


Times like this, when I like to vomit all the nonsense complains of these ambulatory people, I think of wanting to go back to ICU, to say hello patients, I miss you. There, they really are sick that they are sick to death of their illness.
And so I miss the days when I'm the captain of the ship. When I shout they scram, when I say move, everything was laid to you in place. Back then, the patient can't tell straight what to do or what not to do, because they are either dyspneic (difficulty in breathing) or comatose or moribund, they will just be grateful for you later.




I miss the intensity of how I deal with life, of how I respected it, that seconds counts, and that life is not to be joked at, that I could lose him/her in my hands. ICU and Emergency Room were the best places I was assigned. It makes you forget problems, gets you to be focused.




I remember during my junior days of residency, I can't wait to be out of the hospital life, and live normally. I had a whole bunch of unsupportive seniors who knew nothing of helping and camaraderie but moves great on crab mentality. Friend colleagues who turned out the same way, soon I have nothing to trust on to but myself,for life in the residency training is all about competition.




Shortly I learned the art of therapeutics, by myself, in the midst of those who wanted to sabotage my existence. I conquered my fear and the lack of confidence; I acquired clear insights and judgment. Later speed on critical analysis of the disease ensued. Who would have thought ICU and ER will become my favorite place when I kept on evading this area during my first year. I have won over my seniors, they failed to fail me.


Now I'm here, working as a consultant, funny I'd like to go back. I don't know, the hype of the hospital rush is addicting, "I love the playing field" so to quote.


Subsequently, I am now at the focal point of an intersection, laying down options is hard but deciding ultimately is tougher. I want to pursue further, I want to prove myself worthy in my medical world. Scholarship grant has been offered. Subspecialty training is waiting. Should I proceed or should I not? Here I go again. I am torn from my being a career woman, to a mother, a wife and a daughter.



But one thing is sure, I will aim high.

So help me God.
Unknown

Graduation is one of the rare moments in life when I find myself looking back on where I used to be, while at the same time looking forward to what lies ahead. Behind are the precious memories of experiences that I will never forget, heartfelt emotions that may fade in time but will never disappear. Without my past, I have nothing on which to build my future with, and without the future, my past would have been irrelevant.


Residency training for me was demanding and difficult. I have often seen myself in the middle of situations that required both courage and sacrifices. To bridge the silence, I must have the courage to risk rejection from my consultants; to be efficient, I must sacrifice my time with my family and bear the pain of leaving my loved ones. Often, I am standing at the crossroads thinking to opt for the easy and well-trodden road out from this miserable life, but instead, i chose to venture further down the world of internal medicine where I realized how fragile life can be, minutes , if not seconds counts.


I have known the pain of failure, frustration, disappointment and defeat, because I have taken a chance on winning and succeeding. Surviving disappointments awakened me to see that I have made it through the difficult times. Soon I discovered that real success is conjoined in loving relationships. What matters is people, as what lasts is love. What counts are true people that molded us into who we are now.


Thus, I am grateful to my seniors who made my training rough and tough, for there I learned to struggle and forge myself to a new horizon. I am also thankful to my co-residents which made my residency training bearable and memorable; to my consultants who shared their art of management to us; the nurses who in one way or another worked hand-in-hand with us in saving lives,the basis of unity despite some of our differences; to my friends who understood the reason for my non-appearance but supported me in various times though; and to my family, my inspiration, who despite my absence in our home most of the time, backed me up in my decisions.


Thank you for the people who believe in me, but most of all,thank you dear Lord and Mama Mary bacause as I looked back and smile at what had passed, I asked myself "How did I get through all of that?". Well, its just putting in mind to never let go of hope, to never quit dreaming, and never let love depart from our lives.


I would like to say that residency training is one of the best chapters of my life, (though I didn't say it's easy), and I thank all of you for being a part of this painfully wonderful memory.


To my fellow residents, never stop growing and never stop learning, put in mind values of persistence, discipline and determination because we are meant to be whatever we dreamed of becoming. Remember to stop and take a breath. Life is not a race to be won. The only way to enjoy all of it is taking it one moment at a time. And you'll see the task at hand is already done. As the saying goes, "Success is not measured by how well you fulfill the expectations of others, but by how honestly you live up to your own expectations".


To my fellow graduates, there are a lot to be proud of, the obstacles that made us stronger, the determination that has remained steadfast, the willingness to keep on path, to stay and not quitting.Dreams really do have a way of coming true...this is the moment we have worked for. Lets move on and take a leap for the next challenges ahead.



Unknown
Have you ever argued with your thoughts? Did you feel like every decision you are about to take warrants a counter-reaction more destructive than before? Just because you are a physician, did you ever think you are so sure of yourself so arrogantly that you can keep your cool and strong enough to doctor your own relative's battle against the grim reaper we called DEATH? It happened to me three months ago; the gruesome truth left me barefaced. I was thrown out of the sizzling lava, remained blankly motionless, and thawed like there’s a nuclear meltdown.

“Ate, nahirapang huminga si Gladys” (sis, Gladys have difficulty breathing). These were my brother’s worried words as he tried to search for understanding on his wife’s fatal situation. His tensed voice and uncontrollably trembling hands were the unspoken gestures of how much he cares for her. When I saw him nearly bursting to tears, desperately clinging on for hope for his wife and their first born, never knowing what to do nor what to expect, I felt a humongous burden in my chest. I never thought I couldn’t handle the sight of him pacing the corridors back and forth, treading the nursery ICU seeking comfort from his newborn, then back to the room, then to the prayer chapel, then back to the room again. His eyes unable to fix mine, and with restrained emotions he tried to conceal it with casual talks. This wasn’t the cheerful and comical Allen I know, and it just ripped my heart apart to see him so lost and exhausted.

My sister-in-law successfully delivered to a preterm baby girl. Though her infant was placed in the incubator due to prematurity, everybody thought she would be discharged right away. However, two days after that normal delivery, she began to bleed profusely. Worst, her OB-GYN went out-of-town for a convention. What's more? She was left under my care as the internist. Yes... me, her husband's sister. And in that terrifying night, something went wrong...

Less than 16 hours of intermittent blood losses, she gradually deteriorated. Her blood counts dropped so low, she had no blood pressure, no urine output, and her skin was as cold and pale as dead (hypothermia). Her eyes turned yellow (jaundice), and her abdomen bloated. No matter how much we ordered for stat laboratories, boluses of emergency drugs, fast dripping of fluid challenges, and ASAP request for blood transfusions (whole blood, FFP, platelets), there were new episodes arising every hour like cliff-hanging chapters of events waiting to unveil its scene in just a moment.

As test results arrived one after another, I stared and stared in disbelief. I was facing a stormy battle for her life. Findings showed sepsis (a blood infection) and DIC (a blood clotting problem). I tried to keep my cool but being a doctor doesn’t help me from harboring unwanted thoughts knowing its pathophysiology, or the disease progression. She was in impending shock and coma and I know her shallow breathing entailed possible ventilator, her status… an ICU settings. The decreasing urine output might lead her to dialysis and low blood counts may bleed her to death . I have to be one step ahead. Because one false move, one second short, few minutes delayed on rescue treatment, she might then be irreversible. It dawned on me that a lot of women with this condition did not survive due to delayed recognition of a fatal encounter. What if she dies? What will happen to my brother and my niece? I don’t want to regret this for the rest of my life. For the first time, I got scared.

Maybe the priests can be a priest to their own family. And lawyers can be a lawyer to their own brood without hesitation. But can doctors deal the life of their own bloodline? I don’t know. Perhaps, that’s why the Oath of Hippocrates was made.


(TO BE CONTINUED…. read on and click When Life is A Relative - Part II)
Unknown
(CONTINUED FROM When Life is A Relative – Part I)


Flipping the charts with quivering hands, I glanced at Gladys' semi-conscious state of mind and gazed at Allen's bewildered appearance. My eyes surveyed the gloomy room, our relatives were there, entirely clueless of what I have in mind. I wanted to burst into tears and scream “She may die anytime!” but I haven’t uttered it in blur and confusion. How do I prime my family to expect the worst? I used to do that to patients, unrelated to me. How do I say to them to be prepared of a possible death when I myself wouldn’t accept that dreaded idea? I had to get out of the room, evaded the pressure, and stayed at the nurse station, for if physically, she was in agony, emotionally, it was torture to me too.

Perhaps it was too heavy to bear that I couldn’t write any medical orders anymore, for fear I might push her to death, or be blamed by my brother, or worst, by myself. So I asked the Lord why her and why me. It’s hard to pretend in front of the people who expected too much from you that everything is in control when you know only the Lord knows if He would like her to respond well to our treatment. And it’s also lonely to cry alone, never letting your family see you cry because you should be the last man standing strong.


As a doctor, when dealing with life itself becomes a routine day to day encounter, we become detach to maintain grace under pressure. We cling to our defenses to think clearly and objectively. But I got stuck in the danger zone, unable to create a detached attitude. My judgment was already clouded. I couldn’t be a doctor to my sister anymore. I tried, I thought I am strong enough, but I failed.


I have earlier called in the Hematologist and the Infectious specialist. With HELLP syndrome versus Postpartum HUS as a consideration, they continued with the treatment I initiated and worked their brains out in saving Gladys until she was out of the ICU. I thanked my colleagues for understanding how I bothered them in my crisis. And I thanked Dr. Amy, my cousin, for the support she gave in that crucial day. I never thought how noble my profession is until this time, when I had a hands-on experience of their camaraderie.


Learn to quit when you are supposed to. Do not push yourself and be stubborn if you think you can’t. Step aside and be a relative. These I learned well.




So I step aside and been feeding my little niece with my breast milk at the nursery while my colleagues deal with the mom at the ICU. For a while, I’ve been the surrogate mother for baby Mickey up till she was roomed-in.





My brother’s family is now out of the hospital enjoying the life together. Last week was baby Mickey’s christening, and I thank the Lord to have been constantly guiding my thoughts and the hands of all the physicians who attended to Gladys.

As for me, I guess, I’ve been a better relative than a doctor to my relatives. But the pleasure and contentment to have saved one relative is, after all, more than the money could give.



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