Whatever happened to the walls
you put up in your defense
they keep them  out
they keep you in

Whatever happened to superwoman
there she is
conquered by separation anxiety
tempered by baseless guilt

And the walls have trapped you in,
and you grumble in your defense
She is not made to bend by the walls
she stops before she is lost

You two
You were made in different worlds
Better divided
than crumbled by your worst.

Don’t worry. I won’t steal your heart. I will drill through the toughest part of you and suck away that spring that runs through your heart. Now, would you let me in? [insert consent]

Understanding you means understanding your core. Getting to it is painful. Getting out is painful, too.
But could you numb me and take away the pain?
We could afford some numbness. But you see, pain is pain. We could numb it again and again. You would need to heal to truly take away the pain.
Then why do I have to go through that horrible pain?
Because maybe, just maybe, I can heal you.

Didn’t I tell you it will hurt even before we started?

Hindi ko alam kung ano na tong pinapasok ko. Madugo pala.

You ain’t getting through the core until it’s gritty.

Ang iba ang nilalaman, punong-puno, sobra-sobra ang ibibigay. Ang iba naman ang kalooban puro peklat na, wala ka nang makuha. Ano kaya ikaw?

Wag mo na itago yan. Mas masakit pagtinatago mo.

ang bone marrow biopsy.
malaman.
bow.

Thank you Hema for the BMAs.

It was getting dark and I was walking aimlessly along Faura… As I crossed the intersection, somebody shouted “Doktora!”. I looked around and saw a familiar woman, probably in her 30s, smiling at me and waving in surprise from the end of a jeepney. I was thinking of whether I saw her in OPD continuity, or ER, or WARDS, or the PAY floors. I was quite sure though that she is one of those smart and responsible bantays. She probably quickly noticed that I was thinking hard and recalling who the patient was and what the patient had. She told me as the jeepney she was riding was moving, “Patay na po si tatay”. I still couldn’t think who the patient was. She said, shouting as the jeepney zoomed away, “Si Jimmy po.” I absentmindedly had the urge to run and hop on the jeepney to ask further… then I heard a man shouting at me and another jeepney from my back was blowing his horn. I was blocking the way.

“Sino si Jimmy?” I was asking myself as I walked home. Somebody with a chronic disease? Somebody with terminal cancer? By the way his daughter remembered me and how she seemed happy and open enough to update me, I knew he was one of the patients I did touch the life of. It reminded me there and then that these are lives of people we touch as doctors and it is indeed a great responsibility. Every little encounter might have an impact to the patient and their family. I have always been very slow in seeing patients wherever I am. One reason is because I couldn’t resist having to always appraise and explain to the relatives and the patient. If patients need empathy, I’d give them. I think that I’ve been a good doctor in that way. I am happy that med school starting from subjects like Introduction to Patient Care has taught me that–to always go beyond just the biomedical aspects, but also see the psychosocial, economic, and cultural issues surrounding the patient’s disease.

Today, however, I just felt guilty because I have been a very bad doctor. I had bitterness. I had bad sleep. I’ve also been having nausea and troubling polyuria and polypdipsia. I was very grumpy and I scolded 3 of them unnecessarily.It was indeed a horrible day. In the middle of OPD continuity, I just sighed to myself. “F*ck. Ayoko na.” I remember, I said to one of them:
“Ano po? Hindi ninyo matandaan ang gamot na iniinom ninyo!? Ano po?! Kaninang umaga lang ang huling inom ninyo, hindi nyo ba po agad matandaan!? At iisa pa lang po yon. Isang gamot. E madali po pala kayong lasunin e, hindi nyo alam kung ano ang iniinom ninyo.” Then I realized I was too harsh. What if he had bigger problems that day? What if he was just really forgetful? I had to ask him why he didn’t remember. He said he’s just forgetful. I had to explain the importance of knowing his meds and offering an alternative by asking him to list down his meds and always keep in his pocket. He thanked me at the end of the visit. And I had to joke him because of my guilt, “Salamat po saan? Sa pagpapagalit ko sa inyo? wala pong anuman.” He laughed and promised me that he will remember all his meds from now on.

I just wonder how many Mang Jimmy’s out there would remember me for the comfort I gave them and there family? How many Mang Jimmy’s out there would loathe me for my bad days when I scold them. It is indeed a challenge to be a doctor–to put oneself behind, however one feels bad, and put the patient at the center. Or maybe, the greater challenge is for the doctor, to appreciate life more, and live a life of well being and happiness so that every patient encounter is filled with a projection of the beauty of this sacred life.

RIP Mang Jimmy.
To doctors out there, let’s celebrate life and our power to share that celebration with our patients and their families.

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

Do I deserve the silence
The equivalent of your space
And what of your undefined hostility
anger or just plain indifference?

I ask calm in return
of my turning my back on you
For it is as much your loss
as my hope that I burn

For it was no choice
just a thoughtful narrative
the merits you could distill
affirm beyond the noise

Do I deserve abandonment
as I lead you out
after I let you in
too close to pain me this moment

What of distance
that I cannot touch you
what of the lines of love and friendship
both gone with the other’s absence

I ask too much
because I give too much
I cry for the calm
as my turbulence wails such.

It was my hero shell
that wished I made you smile
It was my shielded love
that wanted you truly well

Your armor is your pride
My narcissism is my downfall
That in the battle, no hero, no love
could spell happiness to abide.