Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Thursday, February 19, 2009

My Life Would Suck Without You

I find it amazing that almost a year ago, I was musing with my epiphanies of self-indulgent greatness with this post that I personally think is the best that I have written. That despite the fact that the scale of accomplishment and failure tips on the former rather than the latter, what I have achieved for the past year is something I could definitely be proud of.

Looking back, the three words that sum up my dreary almost non-existent life is nursing, sleeping and eating. The thing that fuels my existence, aside from my pay check, is personal satisfaction. I made things possible without a special someone, a trophy person, dare I must say, to celebrate with my victories and empathize with my defeat. To quote;

(3) My ideal guy is just around the corner, and sooner or later, he’ll get to find me. It’s just that we’re both busy chasing our dreams that our lovelives is a little haywire. After some readjustments of goals, he’ll come to me, and we’ll live happily ever after.

Fast forward a few months of waiting, just when I thought that I have given up on love (again), a special someone comes in the form of an amazing, understanding person. I might have had a notorious reputation of finding my loved ones in the most inopportune places (only if you consider ONS’s as inopportune), this time, I thought that this could be it. I told myself that there’ll be no pressure this time. “Let’s see” has become my personal mantra. And time has become my friend instead of my foe.

Before, my weekends are filled with night outs with friends with the aim of spying potential lovers that would pass our ways. Looking at couples not only enliven my angst on love but also rouse my relentless homicidal ideations and murderous tendencies. I channelled my inexorable libido into my personal work, and even started a new hobby in taking photographs.

But then this person came. And I was inspired. My weekends are now filled with intense lovemaking sessions (hahaha) and I no longer feel the existential angst for lovers walking as if they’re the only people in the world. I no longer dread the pity talks. The self-help books will have to go for now. And I will no longer watch movies alone.

Though everything is still far from the hedges of roses that I have envisioned before and am still envisioning now, the fact that I did not spent Valentine’s Day alone is enough blessing that I should feel thankful for.

Images from my friend K's multiply account.

Monday, February 02, 2009

I'm Not Dead

“And I was never looking for approval from anyone but you
And though this journey is over I'll go back if you ask me to…”

I used to believe that my greatest fear in life is dying, especially, dying alone.

But in the midst of living, and working in a place where death is as common as a thought, facing death has been the norm rather than the exception.

Every time a patient’s heart stops, a chain reaction of activating a code, rummaging the emergency kart for cardiac drugs, pumping the chest and shocking the heart has been our second nature. So much that almost everything has been routinely impregnated in our systems. In 30 minutes we stop, or in some instances, when our muscles still can permit, we allow 15 more.

Whoever said that running a code blue is so cinematic and surreal must be seriously absurd.

I have seen death several times and at most of these times, facing it has never been easy for my part.

As medical professionals, life is what we protect at all times. We may have different values towards it, different views, opinions, and outlook on it, but in every chance that we got, we have learned how to protect it at all costs.

Because we cherish its brevity. How transient it could be. One moment you’re someone else’s son, someone else’s mother, someone else’s special loved one, and the next thing you might just be the cadaver I’m wrapping up in a shroud.

When burnout sets in, I couldn’t help but contemplate on whether I should volunteer myself to the hospital’s pediatric wing, or in the nursery where life abounds and everything is sweet and cuddly. But then reality slaps me back where I’m supposed to be. No matter where I go, people will die. People are going to die. And life begins anew.

Maybe it’s for this reason that I have begun to realize one of the most important things in life.

That life is what we make of it.

As the old saying goes, “Yes, we can't do anything about the length of our lives, but we can do something about its width and depth."

And sometimes.

Yes, sometimes.

It’s all so comforting.

“I’m not dead just floating
I'm not scared just changing
You're my crack of sunlight yeah…”

Images from Flickr, I’m Not Dead by Pink.