i think it's me but is it

i think it's me but is it?

unless you go down the nearest mall or (if you're feeling more adventurous/daring) the famous divi, you won't feel like it's christmas. and certainly, you would only feel it because of the tremendous flock of people (who'll worship me sooner or later haha!) getting on your way, and your nerves as well.

i remember a few christmases back, i would normally get excited weeks before the 25th but now, nothing. i don't know. not even the chilly December air can get me into christmas mode. am i just getting older? but i'm not that old. and besides, isn't christmas for older people too? or so we think... i have reason to believe that christmas now, isn't as christmas as it used to be. for one, nobody seems to like christmas decors anymore. on our street you'd be lucky to find 4 or 5 houses all decked out. it seems that everyone else has converted? although this is not a far possibility...

even i don't have christmas spirit. i hate our tree. i hate the lights. but don't get me wrong, i love the gifts. keep 'em coming! hehe.
and yeah, on a different note, i'm currently addicted to imogen heap. you remember frou frou? she's part of the collaboration, as i recall. i'm kind of liking the whole UK music thing. it's fun. it's new and refreshing. at a certain point you just get tired of everything, and then, something like this comes along. like a, hmm... renaissance of tastes? i dont know but i do know it's good. :)

lantern parade

lantern parade

this has got to be the most shameless lantern parade ever. as if dancing around taft and surrounding streets in full lantern parade regalia wasn't enough, we were, all 6 of us, at the front of the line, singing and dancing like there was no tomorrow. it's good we ended up bagging the best cheer award. at least, the efforts weren't wasted.

it's just a happy event. that's all and happy hormones make me unusually high. plus, i can't bear mediocrity. especially if we have no reason to be. you do or you dont.

other than the best cheer award we also won most colorful award and both 3rd place awards for the lantern and the facade. although, i think we really should have won 1st for the lantern. stupid people... they should be throwing themselves out 8th floor now. or if my speculations are correct, ugly people do like to be surrounded by uglier things. harsh... anyway, 3rd isn't so bad and i remain thankful for it. yeah, i know, i could be a sore loser. but in my defense, i don't get competitive a lot of times. i dont.

now, congratulate us.

(you're not bowing low enough fool!)

it's been a bad day, please don't take a picture

it's been a bad day, please don't take a picture

spare me the self-esteem crap. there really are times when i just don't feel good about myself no matter how much endorphins are loaded in my bloodstream. and i'm not talking about a bad hair day here. just a bad day which is significantly different to a blah day in n times infinity ways. days when i just want to withdraw from all social interaction and just weave straw.

no amount of introspection could make it better, only worse. hoping is pointless. harsh realities come into view. and the weather, affirms the negativity.

i feel like trash and my migraine is only making everything worse.

i won't commit suicide but i can see why some people do.

this is not a test

this is not a test

i wanted to blog. i wanted to blog so badly that i dream of wanting to blog. but after that seemingly long hiatus, i dont know where to start lashing out my thoughts. they all seem to be tangled in my cortex (i am currently re-reviewing for a final exam), and i need major detangling soon. i dont need an emergency lobotomy, silly (maybe you do)! but i do need quiet time which is hard to get by these days. i don't know...the world is full of senseless buzzing.

i hate routine. at home lying around, doing nothing all day is not routine. work is routine. school is routine. the bus i take to school everyday is routine. fastfood is routine. basically, everything i associate with school is routine. yes, even rob is routine. >gasp!<

i'm not complaining... or maybe i am. im not even sure if i am already. its a whole big grey area now. routine makes you dull. i hate it. i'm not sure if the grayness or the predictability is wearing me down.

habit is a recurrent, often unconscious pattern of behavior that is acquired through frequent repetition. as opposed to routine which is basically the same but more mechanical. to put it simply, i hate it. tradition is one thing, but routine is entirely different.

but is it possible to do away with routine? not exactly. imagine doing everything for the first time... everytime. that's pretty much what it's like without it and its tiring. but as much as we sort of "need" some degree of routine, we also have to have an "anti-routine" element, which is sometimes impossible to maintain if the system runs on a circuit of overlapping routines. we have no choice but to, dare i say it, go with the flow.

spice up with variety as tolerated. do not overdo it. a dash would be enough to try to do things differently everytime. and i don't mean a hundred-and-eighty degree change. just please for the love of all things, avoid being mechanical.

and i would like to end with a bridge that's stuck in my head:

Hands down this is the best day I can ever remember,

I'll always remember the sound of the stereo,

the dim of the soft lights,

the scent of your hair that you twirled in your fingers

and the time on the clock when we realized it's so late

and this walk that we shared together.

The streets were wet and the gate was locked

so I jumped it, and I let you in.

And you stood at your door

with your hands on my waist

and you kissed me like you meant it.

And I knew that you meant it,

that you meant it,

that you meant it,

and I knew, that you meant it, that we meant it.

the inevitable happened

the inevitable happened

i have been delaying this far too long. had it not been for a chewing gum incident which rendered a part of me broken, i wouldn't have. yes, i was terrified. ridicule me if you must. i'm 18 years old and i'm scared of the dentist (which, mind you did not keep me from having trips to the dentist prior to this incident). as a result the inevitable happened, i underwent a minor surgery, the extraction of my second molar.

i opened my mouth as the dentist surveyed my teeth.

"we're good to go. either you have tooth extraction or root canal.(handing me a mirror)"

root canal wasn't an option. i have decided. it's either you take it out or you do.

"extraction, doctor."

"but if we do, we would have to install a crown jacket. do you know what that is?"

i know doctor.. but humor me tell me what it is. stalling...

"no doctor"

"ok its like this, (holding out a mold), blah blah yadda yadda"

i couldn't care less about a stupid crown jacket. take it out pleeease.

"so that' it. what do you say?"

"uhmm... i'll ask my mom first"

"ok. open your mouth"

i opened my mouth and closed my eyes. the dentistry tools are too scary. this i cannot see. with eyes shut i felt her (the doctor is a she), rub flavored topical anesthesia on the affected gum.

"ok gargle first"

i did. blindly following orders. after which she gently massaged my cheek. the events that followed, the tools she used and everything else from there on (except lucid moments when she asked me to gargle) are remembered through closed eyes. i couldnt bear seeing the tools. i didnt know why. i have handled scarier looking tools in the OR but i just couldnt stand the sight of these implements being used on me. until all movement ceased...

"ayaw ka yatang hiwalayan ng ngipin mo..."

apparently they're having a hard time taking it out. it wont leave me. but i have decided. more force was introduced. i couldnt open my eyes. i consciously did not want to see their faces while taking it out.

then i felt it. freedom at last!

"ok tapos na."

her words were liberating. i opened my eyes. a feeling of relief and a weird sense of liberty overcame me. she made me bite hard on a ball of i didnt know what (at that time), to stop the bleeding i suppose.

it's over. my right jaw was numb and i felt my lips were so swollen and i couldnt feel a thing, but i felt relief.

at last its over. now i just have the post-surgical pains to deal with.

and we wake up to the painful reality that is college

and we wake up to the painful reality that is college.

although my butt was practically glued to my sheets and getting out of bed is never an option, i unwillingly dragged myself to school. semestral break's over and we have been zapped into reality by 20 000 mega watts of unadulterated/overwhelming schoolwork. two weeks into the semester, and we have already been made to swallow papers, reports and a migraine-inducing long exam.

plus, in case you havent heard EVAT has begun raping our pockets and burning holes on our allowances. everything's skyrocketing but sadly our poor purses get left behind as we get lesser value for our peso. i just hope the benefits will be greater and more tangible this time, it wouldnt hurt to tighten our belts just a little more (but then again, it would, but we all have to make sacrifices), just make sure your eyes won't pop out, or else, EVAT will haunt you even in your medical bill.

however, this does not mean we have to be passive taxpayers, instead be vigilant consumers without overthinking because it can very well induce nasty stress-headaches which can be quite disabling.

remember, the following consumer goods are devoid of VAT:

- fresh produce from the market such as rice, fish, vegetables, eggs and meat

- house rent which costs less than or equal to 10 000 a month

- tuition fees, books, magazines and newspapers

- sari-sari stores, carinderias and other businesses earning at most 1.5 million pesos a year.

what does this tell us? to eat home-cooked foods instead, eat vegetables, to stay in school, read, support small-scale entrepreneurs and respect deadlines imposed by the landlady, understand economy, practice it.

this is a public servic announcement from yours truly :)

bum dee bum dee bum dee bum

bum dee bum dee bum dee bum

planet bum used to be paradise, but for some reason especially when you're bumming far too long, it isn't so fun anymore.okay, so i'm the queen of procastination, and i don't get anything done until the last minute, and i'm supposed to be enjoying this, but, hell i'm bored out of my wits and i've practically done everything in my power to stop it. i need to get out of the house. pronto! and as if the gods gave conspired, it kept raining all day today, when we're supposed to be out on EK. as a result, plans have been postponed indefinitely. i should have known something like this was going to happen. something like this always happens anyway. weirdly, i am kind of indifferent about this.

in the spirit of bumming, let's see what's on TV:

- breakfast shows, it's all over TV. you just have to pick one. your choice does not necessarily mean it is the most sensible. anyway, they are all alike. probably, you just need something to jump start the day (or load it with enough sedatives to render you on coma). yes, and there it is, pinoy big brother. guestings, features, more guestings. it's just there, early in the freaking morning. and wait, what are they doing? they're playing that song again and what? wtf?!? everybody's dancing. nooo... wait. what is this? i'm dancing too. get me out of here!

-late morning talk shows, where nobody actually talks. it's just littered with... well, you know what. i want to hurl myself out the window, but then again our house is just a storey high and throwing myself out the window wouldn't be so dramatic as it is utterly hilarious. oh no, not again. that song. everyone's dancing!!! even Boy Abunda, for crying out loud! it's scary! that song is seriously driving everyone nuts. it's like that Darna movie, where the antagonist (snake-haired woman, mother of all kontrabidas,Cherie Gil), hypnotizes people into getting into a zombie-like state. only this time, its a song.
-the usual spanish and asian telenovelas. are you seriously going to watch this? huh, huh?

-then its a carnival. noon time variety shows. woohoo! everybody knows how much i loathe these. i'd rather be a hermit than go through excruciating pain by watching these people make a fool out of everyone else. if you want to torture me, you know what to do.

-more daytime soaps. the ones in channel 7 are fun to watch just because you can laugh at the bad acting and super cliche dialogues and storylines, but it is equally painful if you watch far too long. and oh, watch out for that piercing headache, it's bound to come after.

-well, my favorite time of the day would be late afternoon, when i can watch cartoons. yay! they seem to be the only ones making sense now. it's quite hard looking for something sensible to watch. even the news is not making sense anymore. is it me? or is it?

holloween

holloween

local TV is a riot on Halloween. its absurd and utterly pathetic. all this media hype is driving everyone nuts as our minds are literally fed with useless and irrelevant information. just like this:

newscaster: ano na ang mga huling kaganapan dyan sa Manila North Cemetery?

field reporter: maayos naman ang lahat dito, paparami na ang mga tao, maraming nakumpiskang alak, baraha, patalim, na nakikita sa video ngayon.

newscaster: at ang puntod ni (so and so)?

field reporter: nagtirik ng kandila at nag-alay ng bulaklak ang pamilya ng namayapang si (name of dear departed here), dumadami na rin ang mga taga-suportang nais dumalaw sa puntod ni (so and so). sa puntod naman ng namayapang si (name of deceased matinee idol here), pila-pila ang mga tagahangang nais masilayan ang kanyang puntod, at ayan nakikita niyo sa video nagtitirik ng kandila ang mga kaanak ni (matinee idol). binisita na rin ni (name of murdered celebrity's daughter here) and puntod ng yumaong ina kaninang mga alas-tres ng hapon blah blah blah (useless shit you shouldn't care about). yadda yadda.

you turn on the tv for the 6 o' clock news and that's what you get. and all you ever wanted was your daily dose of current events.

well, apparently tv networks have this habit of feeding us with more than what we need to know. information overdose... overkill... imagine if these information were converted to calories we'd all be Obese type 5 by now, wallowing in lard and blubber. we'll all die of heart disease.

i mean so what? do we really need to know how much people actually visit these dead people? should we care about how every single celebrity remembers the dead? do you seriously want to know how much candles are burning on some dead guy's grave? come on...

and as much as i like useless information (or rather seemingly useless information), this one's so useless that it'd be accumulating cobwebs on your brain.and i tell you, you don't want cobwebs. they're too contagious. and by contagious i mean, viral. it will seriously corrupt your hard drive (i hope something's in there). scary.

as precious airtime is being wasted by pointlessness, people just have to be selective. feed your mind only with what adds to your brain. and if you're in for a good laugh, go ahead watch it. it can be funny at times until such point where you get annoyed but you'll laugh nonetheless. anyway, it will be another year before you see it again, or maybe waiting time will be less if election seasons coming, but let's not go into that now...

don't want anything fancy

don't want anything fancy

just a simple greeting. thanks for putting up with me for two years. you are technically my longest online relationship (considering there are none). here's to many more years of bashing, lambasting and plain old angsty joyful blogging.

Happy Birthday Bloggy!

try Googling failure.

hit the I'm Feeling Lucky button.

voila!

google has a warped sense of humor...

this is what nothing else to do is like

this is what nothing else to do is like

i swore to sanity i'd take this break seriously and if it ever came to that point, i'll be "careering" it to death. i'm officially officially on break mode meaning laziness levels are like up to a 100+

and as expected, nothing blogworthy, or anything i'd rather openly share on this journal ;) has happened over the past few days. my time is spent mostly in bed or on the couch either sleeping or making up for lost quality time with the tv. or in any case, i'll be busy geeky-fying myself. neurocizing! as how, the demi-goddess of ultra-geekiness, heavens bless her, Zafra (see, even the name parallels the ring of the Hindu godof destruction Shiva) would put it.

currently, i'm on the greek mythology diet and memories of our high school english class plays suddenly come to mind. couldn't help but laugh. our group as i recall, chose to perform pygmalion and galatea, not because we liked it, but because it was short and it was easy to portray plus, there were i think less characters needed. this was freshman year. so Pygmalion was this woman hater guy/ sculptor who ironically enough, fell in love with one of his works, Galatea. naturally, a non-livng thing as a sculpture made of stone and ivory could not respond to the worldly desires of men, so with this dissatisfaction and, dare i say, perversion, Pygmalion prayed that Venus would make Galatea real and they could have real sex (of course, that was not directly stated in the text, but only a moron would say this was not implied!). so anyway, being the hopeless romantic goddess of love that she is, she agreed to Pygmalion's wishes. Galatea was now human, of flesh and blood and passionate desires. it all boils down to the two having sex (again this is implied) and ultimately bearing a child. everybody gets some and lives happily ever after. end of text.

as a high school freshie, so innocent and naive, uncorrupted with the ways of the world, i actually thought it was all fairytale like. but now that i'm more learned, and i actually get to think about it, i say, it's creepy. sends shivers. think Pinocchio. and imagine Gepetto was actually a phedophile? freaky huh? this is exactly what happens in the myth of Pygmalion and Galatea. think again. does the Machete series actually allude to this tale of smouldering passion and desire? more like it.

so what is it actually telling us? that weird sexual preferences are favoured by the divine? that the perv gets away with it because of his extreme desire and passion? or that hope and prayer prevails?

i don't actually know. i'm too freaked out to.

people love complaining

people love complaining

i have been extremely lethargic lately, and the worst part? i shouldn't be. not now, not with all the stuff i should be doing for the semester's end. i'm on slow-mo and the world (or at least my academic world) is on fast-forward turbo. i can't keep up.

and as if a great conspiracy is at work, i'm having migraine twinges...again. with episodes of nausea.now, i literally cannot function. i suspect a certain undisclosed person caused me to have migraine attacks. oh if words could kill...if only they could... you are sooo dead right now.

plus, i ran out of meds (or i lost it, can't remember, too tired to think). it's prescription and i lost the damned piece of shit paper. so how is this? we're supposed to go gallery visiting again at 10 and my head is still throbbing. it doesn't get any better than this.

sembreak is like a few steps away, but i can't feel it. make me.

what the fuck were you thinking?

this was what i have been avoiding all along...

and although i thrive on stress

this is not the kind i'd rather be living on.

got it?

but then again, maybe not.

on giving up

on giving up
one day you wake up. you're late for class but you can't seem to get yourself out of bed. every movement is a feat, a bitter pill to swallow. you wish everything would just go away, or better, if you could just go, diasppear into oblivion. if only sleep could wash away the burden.

your fate is resigned, you decide.and you give up. for some reason, you just can't continue going on anymore. you have been so fed up with life.you have finally reached super saturation. you need to stop, breathe and think. recollect your thoughts. vent your feelings. cry if you must. after all, repression is breeding ground for rage.

after which, you get a clearer view, a broader perspective. either you go on or give up altogether. at most times, you continue at other less frequent times, you don't. you weigh your options, you either stay or get out of the system. you want out. you realize you are just human and life as one is not without its limitations.

sometimes giving up doesn't mean defeat but rather holding on, to life, hope and sanity. when life blows hurricanes your way, you don't resist. instead, you bend with the direction of the blow. in the end, you remain standing, you survive, molded and strengthened by the wind.

this might be a terrible attempt at consolation... but i certainly hope it will do. :)

taft me now

taft me now

person A: "bakit parang ang sakit sa baga ng hangin?"

me: "friend, behold...this is taft."

beloved taft avenue's air pollution levels have gone totally out of control. as in literally, you breathe in smoke and dust plus, if you're lucky enough, the aroma of either rotting garbage (read as gar-badge) or shit (apparently, a lot of people think taft is just a long stretch of toilet cubicles). if you wouldn't die getting run over by an 18-wheeler truck that sees red as "go", you would, however, from apparent intoxication, carbon monoxide poisoning and/or later development of a lung disease, you choose...

in times like this, when i'm on the verge of serious toxicity, what with all the papers and school stuff i have to do, the exams and all, the toxic soup that is the air, is not helping at all. more so, it worsens the condition. as a proof, now, i have colds, tenacious phlegm and migraine. i may not live to see the day when people start bringing with them oxygen tanks to work, to school or just when they want to take a stroll down taft (for whatever reason, i could not comprehend). or this might happen quicker than we could say "taftavenuesucksthelifeoutofme".
anyway, if you want to live longer stay away from places like taft. or if you can't, repent now, start changing your life, who knows? taft might just take dear life...

i know he will. :p

you might have heard about this

you might have heard about this...

If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days you would have produced enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee.
(Hardly seems worth it. I don't even drink coffee!!!)

If you farted consistently for 6 years and 9 months, enough gas is produced to create the energy of an atomic bomb.
(Now that's more like it! Now, that's what I call weapon of mass destruction.)

The human heart creates enough pressure when it pumps out to the body to squirt blood 30 feet.
(O.M.G.!)

A pig's orgasm lasts 30 minutes.
(Everybody wants to be a pig now on their next life.)

A cockroach will live nine days without its head before it starves to death!
(Creepy.)
(I'm still not over the pig.)

Banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories an hour
(Don't try this at home, maybe at work)

The male praying mantis cannot copulate while its head is attached to its body. The female initiates sex by ripping the male's head off.
("Honey, I'm home. What the....?!")

The flea can jump 350 times its body length. It's like a human jumping the length of a football field.
(30 minutes..lucky pig! Can you imagine?)

The catfish has over 27,000 taste buds.
(What could be so tasty on the bottom of a pond?)

Some lions mate over 50 times a day.
(I still want to be a pig in my next life...quality over quantity)

Butterflies taste with their feet.

The strongest muscle in the body is the tongue.
(Hmmmmmm......)

Right-handed people live, on average, nine years longer than left-handed people.
(If you're ambidextrous, do you split the difference?)

Elephants are the only animals that cannot jump.
(okay, so that would be a good thing)

A cat's urine glows under a black light.
(I wonder who was paid to figure that one out?)

An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.

(I know some people like that)

Starfish have no brains.
(I know some people like that too.)

Polar bears are left-handed.
(If they switch, they'll live a lot longer)

Humans and dolphins are the only species that have sex for pleasure.
(What about that pig??)

requiem

requiem

existensialism knocks and we realize that we are but humans, and everything will ultimately end in death. it's just a matter of who would go first and who would live to see the last, of hope and losing it.

i have always wanted to go like Morrie. no big scenes, no struggles, no painful defibrillators, no grasping for air, that kind of stuff. i wanted to expire as peacefully as possible. my body turns into a smoke version of me and finally be blown by the wind. perfect.

but, alas, we have to face our own mortality. indeed not every death is peaceful as it is painful. and while age definitely comes with death, death does not necessarily come with age. the moment we live, we are eligible to die. it is a sick package.

which is why nothing breaks my heart more than seeing all these sick children in ward 9 knowing that most of the cases have poor prognoses and even poorer funds for medical care. because of their situation they are forced to fastforward to maturity and when you try and listen to what they have to say, they may talk even more sense than most of our politicians. but sooner or later these kids have to go. and not a single one of them, deserve to be there.

what even hurts me more is that, we can only do so much for these kids. i wanted to save them and take them out of their misery, a bit messiahnic i might say, but there's a limit to what you can do. after resources have been exhausted, there's nothing to do but wait. i never felt powerless in my life. and sometimes, after the wait, you find out you couldn't have done anything more and they finally succumb to death. finally, the misery is over. it's sad. but you know, once in a while we have to have a brush with death to be reminded of life and to be thankful for it.

Phateros

Phateros

nanggaling nanaman kami ng Pateros nung Sabado. buti na lang mabait si Lord di umulan. pero di rin ako nakapag-sunblock, dang! at dahil magaling kami ng aking partner na si blove, na-assign kami sa Siberia. you don't ever want to be assigned to Siberia, sa mabaho at maputik na Siberia ng Sitio Pagkakaisa A. had we known, na yun na pala yung Siberia, we would never have agreed to be assigned there. kaya nga lang, magaling kami, we took it as a challenge. right... haha.

half way through the survey mangiyak-ngiyak na kami. yung mga kasama namin, patapos na, kami wala pa sa kalahati tapos ang dami pa naming nakalimutang itanong. we just wanted to get out of the place. kaya pumunta kami dun sa suki naming tindahan, to take the break we deserved. after sinukmani, sprite, skyflakes, mr.chips, boy bawang and tootoos nga ba yun? (puro junkfoods), we were so back in the game.

actually, i'm getting the hang of this community diagnosis thing. adventure and bonding to the max ito. sana lang, pumasa kami sa panlasa ni dones. i heard siya raw yung mag-ggrade sa min. oh no! actually, di pa kailangan mag-panic ngayon. ready... get set... panic!

mas marami kaming bloopers ngayon. meron kaming household na sinurvey for hypertension. and there was this family member na 110/30 ang BP, not a very promising reading for aa 20-something adult male, medyo abnormal nga e. halos lagyan na namin ng taning ang buhay niya. medyo tinakot nga yata namin siya. but fear is good, most of the time, fear warrants compliance. siguro naman magpapacheck-up na siya. hopefully. sabay gatong pa ng biyenenniya sa anak niya "hala... wala ka ng tatay...". haha. pinigil ko ang tawa ko nung sinabi niya yun. ngayon, naniniwala na ko sa antagonistic mothers-in-law

marami ring mga bouts of laughter which were most of the time unaccounted for, habang siryoso kaming nagiinterview ng mga tao sa kanilang mga bahay-bahay. ewan ko nga e. baka nawi-wirdohan na sila samin. bahala sila.

tapos yung weighing scale na dala-dala namin. it was the funniest thing. haha. you have to see it to believe it. but it was functional nevertheless. :D eto lang masasabi ko, susmaryosep!

babalik nanaman kami sa thursday. yay! Siberia again... sweet...

some things

some things

only happen to me. just after fervently hoping it wouldn't. parang nananadya.

and i thought lady luck and i were friends. but apparently, she is one tough prankster. pag siya ang nang-trip, iba. expect the unexpected. and you'd definitely believe that nothing is impossible.

there i was minding my own business when some senior girl (thanks to her!) approached me and told me the red flag was on...big time! and scenes from my life flashed before my eyes... oh no! i'm dead. really... ok, no. but i was good as dead. i wished i was dead. i honestly, hoped i would just vanish right at that moment. the thing was, i was in uniform. and i reckon, hours earlier i was actually telling a classmate that that was the worst thing that could ever happen when you're in that godforsaken uniform. or, when you're wearing anything for that matter.

so anyway, i tried to wash it off, but to no avail. it was darn difficult in that dress. so i opted for cover. i was trying to be as discrete as i could but somehow the janitor noticed and told me i should get a jacket and tie it around my waist. like i didn't know that! the problem was, no one seemed to have a jacket anywhere. and every person i asked automatically knew what was going on. practically, the whole college knows. you could just imagine how many people have known.

every person i asked, plus every person within 1 meter radius the time i asked, plus every person on the girl's bathroom and everyone within 5 meter radius from me automatically knew. even the guard approached me and offered that i use the boy's bathroom, when all i wanted to do was to put on my apron. duh i don't need the boy's bathroom to do that!

i literally, wanted the earth to swallow me back whole.

anyway, after everything that happened, i couldn't muster the strength to get on with my life and my migraine was threatening me again. so i skipped class and went home. and that was the best thing that happened to me. for the day, at least.

so here's the continuation

so here's the continuation

i wrote this exactly a week ago. and i have completed the required number of major and minor operation assists. things did not go as planned but i finished everythign nonetheless.

by now, i have assisted 5 major operations and 2 minor procedures meaning i am 3 minor operations away from completing the PRC requirement of undergrad operations assisted for my license (every student nurse has to have at least 5 major and 5 minor assists aside from the other requirements to be eligible for a license). but the college, as merciless as it is, requires students to have a minimum of 10 major and 10 minor assists (a total of 20) to be able to complete the undergraduate program. the good thing is, however, we can complete it anytime during the entire course. with the PGH being our base hospital, completion is guaranteed. mahina na ang 20 assists. normally, naeexceed pa yung required.

anyway, if things go as planned, i'll be able to finish everything by thursday.:)

i'll try to recall in as much detail as possible every case i was able to observe.

first case

OB-OR delivery room

c-section

diagnosis: multiple congenital abnormalities

i was among the people who arrived earlier so i was assigned to the OB-OR which usually had really early cases. at that moment i wanted to curse myself for being too early. too early for my own good. the thing was they give you room assignments and just let you be. leave you there without so much specific instructions as to what exactly you were going to do upon arrival at the operating room. without the comforting (and at times annoying) presence of a clinical instructor constantly, religiously whispering instructions and reminders at the back of your neck, you feel kind of lost. me? i was sh*t scared! i didn't know what to expect from a caesarian section. and no matter how many times i tried to brace myself, no amount of bracing could calm the nerves. my heart was pounding, my head was throbbing along with it in a constant ominous duet. i wanted so badly to back out. yun bang parang gusto mo na lang mamundok at magtanim na lang ng kamote!

so i entered the operating room, did the obligatory pleasantries to the nurses on duty and followed an order to scrub. scrubbing is the act of preparing yourself for contact to an all-sterile field. it involves vigourous hand scrubbing with a brush (that could literally scrub your skin red) and 7.5% betadine solution, gowning (putting on the OR gown) and donning gloves. it's more complicated than you think. you have to be extra cautious and mighty vigilant about sterility. a slight doubt, hint or contact to an unsterile surface and you'll be stoned to death! really... ok no, but you'd either be yelled at by the doctor and or scrub nurse or be stoned to death. or in worst cases both. but in any of the situations you'd have to live with the stigma that comes along the phrase "scrub-out". and i tell you, the stigma is too real, the experience traumatizing that many a nursing student have lost hope in life because of it. just a reminder, whatever you do when in scrub, eat, drink and breathe sterility! for your own sake...

after scrubbing, (my first time ever to scrub) the patient was already on the table apparently anesthesia-loaded. the scrub nurse, the one i was supposed to assist, was busy preparing all the instruments, so for the first few minutes i was on one corner trying to make myself scarce. praying that it should all end. the next thing i know, i was called to come near the OR table and they were already cutting the patient's abdomen. things happened real fast. one moment they were on the skin, and then they were dissecting layers of fat the next. another moment still, and they were already taking the baby out of the mother's belly. remember that scene from the alien movie (i just can't remember the title, i'm not good with movies)? it was a lot lot lot like it. apparently, the baby they took out had an incredibly huge head and a bunch of other congenital anomalies. remember fabella? it was fabella on a whole new different level, bloodier but still the same characteristic stench of amniotic fluid, one that sticks to your clothes long after the procedure is done.

eww... now i can remember its smell as i type this.

so after they have taken off the baby, they took out the even alien-er looking placenta. (i am seriously nauseous now). a mass of dark red, slimy, jelly-like flesh. it was all weird seeing it come out of the abdomen. then afterwards, came the long and boring process of suturing the abdomen. the whole time i was actually imagining what could happen if the patient suddenly awakens and sees this huge opening on her belly. or perhaps the sight of the opening wouldn't bother her but the thick layer of FAT would.

when the procedure was finished, my head was throbbing inredibly that i had no other intention but to get out of the operating room. and i did. since i was at the hospital already, i went and sought medical opinion regarding the headache i was having continuously for 3 days for fear that it could be a tumor or something. no definite diagnosis was made. but i was advised to take medications.the headache resolved. meaning i am tumor-free. after my first operation assist, one thing was sure, i do not ever want to go under the knife. thank God.