Week 11, 2012: Saturday morning

 

I may have to call this on-going seven-photo-a-week project "Saturday Mornings" because I take most pictures in that time period, but I shall resist the temptation—at least, for now.

Linked

I just learned that this blog got linked in MV Logos Hope's official website. Many thanks to the staff! My friends and I certainly had a blessed time inside the floating bookstore.

Week 10, 2012: Illustrations by H. K. Browne

I'm currently reading David Copperfield by Charles Dickens. The English author calls this work his "favourite." I bought my copy at the MV Logos Hope a week ago. The edition I'm using is published by Wordsworth Classics and features wonderful illustrations by H. K. Browne.

Congratulations, UP College of Medicine Class of 2017!

It's this time of year when I'm getting more than the usual number of traffic, mainly referrals from Google. And then it hit me: the list of qualifiers to the UP College of Medicine Class of 2017 is finally up. Here's the list published by UP Medics, the College's official student publication. Congratulations!

I know a couple of names in the roster—a friend's sister, people I once saw loitering around Albert Hall, a former classmate—and I'm happy for them. Clearly it's the start of a new chapter in their lives: more sleepless nights, more studying than they've ever done before.

I wrote To the Freshman of the UP College of Medicine two years ago, and nothing much has changed, I guess. If your name is in this list, that entry might help you. But here's a tip I didn't include, one that can make or break your day—where to eat a hurried one-hour power lunch.

George Müller: a life of faith and prayer

I first heard of George Müller when Kuya Lito (our youth pastor) spoke about him as an illustration one Saturday afternoon. The subject was prayer. So here was this man, George Müller, preacher from Bristol, who housed and fed a thousand homeless children in 19th century England, who lived by prayer and faith alone, and who advertised his needs to no man but to God Himself. His prayers were answered in the most extraordinary situations. His life was a testimony to the Lord's faithfulness and greatness.

Prayer—rather, prayerlessness—is something I struggle with daily. I wanted to be challenged and encouraged. I figured I should read about the life of someone who has matured and emerged victorious in this crucial Christian discipline. Thankfully, a kind friend from church, Ate Milaine Espino, offered to lend me a copy of one her books, George Müller: Delighted in God written by Roger Steer.

Week 9, 2012: Aboard the MV Logos Hope

I met old friends from college last Saturday. We had breakfast at an old restaurant along Ongpin Street called Saludo's.



Some of us went to Logos Hope, a ship with lots of books inside it—some 5000 titles, we were told.

Chronicling a month-long state of a heightened sense of responsibility

I was the block's appointed OB-Gyn liaison officer (LO), a post I held for a month. Not that I deserved it, of course: I was volunteered by my wretched blockmates out of spite. I say that lovingly.

As the LO, I coordinated the scheduling of posting assignments, relayed both early and last-minute announcements to the block, pleaded our requests to the course coordinators, and answered a number of questions about the most minute, insignificant details. This was a glorified secretarial job, but for a person like myself who hardly keeps schedule print-outs, let alone commit them to memory, who lives by the day—by the hour, actually— the task was a major challenge.

Sisters

She looked pained, the patient lying on a stretcher parked inside cubicle three. She had broken teeth, bloodshot eyes, and fuzzy hair—a woman who hadn't slept through the night because she was bleeding. She seemed ten years older than the age she would later confess to: 35 years. Only a little more than a quarter of a century, when you think about it, and still so young.

"Hello, Ma'am," I said, "I have a couple of questions to ask you. Can you give me your full name?"

I couldn't quite get her mumbling—either her provincial accent was too strong or she was too weak to properly enunciate. "Can you spell that for me, please?"

Week 8, 2012: Produce

Pag-ibig

We did a cover of Yeng Constantino's Pag-ibig for our Valentine's Day surprise for the Class 2014 ladies.  I myself would have opted not to join the production had it not been for Franco's insistence that everyone be involved. They needed a bald man. It would feel morally wrong to refuse Franco.

The best mother in the world

During idle moments at the Labor and Delivery Rooms of the OB Admitting Section, I try to imagine what it must have been like on that April night in 1987, when my mother gave birth to me, her smallest little boy.

Nanay tells me there wasn't too much drama during labor and delivery, which explains her amazement at the "unrealistic" portrayal of childbirth in the movies. She practically just expelled me into this world without fanfare. What she truly meant, perhaps, was not that childbearing is painless, but that it's nothing compared to the difficulties of actually raising children.

To the first baby I have delivered

Dear Andriel,

I asked your mother what your name was going to be. "Andriel," she said, her voice hushed, almost like a sigh. I told her I hadn't heard that name before, but that it sounded good on you. Whether your name is a combination of hers and your father's, I don't really know, because I decided not to probe further that night. Your mother was too tired. But she was good, a rarity these days: her contractions were strong. She was able to push you out efficiently, sans the melodrama. She smiled when I congratulated her for a job well done.

I'm writing you now because you're the first baby I've ever delivered. I didn't do it alone, of course; I had a far more experienced OB resident beside me. You may never understand this, but for a person praying for a career in medicine, that event is a milestone, a bookmark in the colorful history of my training. The Philippine General Hospital calls you and your mother charity patients, but I think you were the ones who were being more charitable by allowing me to learn so much from my experience with you.

Week 7, 2012: OB, Valentine's, and a walking pawnshop

We're halfway through our OB-Gyn rotation, but it already feels like forever. Our day begins at 7 am, the summary rounds, where clinical cases are endorsed to the next rotating service. The Chief Resident often calls us to enumerate, among others, the criteria for vaginal delivery after cesarean section, signs of placental separation, and the different types of abortion.

Hair color

I haven't done a proper blog entry on Valentine's Day¹. Let me share a brief episode in the life of my favorite couple in the world. It's one of those times when my parents misunderstand each other, usually about insignificant things, and their reactions are quite amusing.

I called home and asked my father what he did today².

"I went to KCC (the local grocery store) to buy hair dye for your mother, as she had requested, but when I got to the clinic, the secretary informed me she was already in the parlor, having her hair dyed."

Week 6, 2012: Paco Park

In rapid-fire succession

I'm at the OB Admitting Section (OBAS) where I'm posted for the entire day. Patients come in waves, occupying all the benches in the hallway. Meanwhile, clerks, interns, and residents do a hundred things, all at the same time—taking patient histories, doing internal exams, extracting blood for analysis. I'm lost in the frenzy.

Fridays are usually like this. Charts overflow with names of pregnant women branded as high-risk, many of them referred from the out-patient clinics. They have either hypertension, diabetes, ascending infections, or are in danger of pre-term labor—situations that can potentially harm the mothers or the babies inside. Patients who bleed due to abortions—self-inflicted or otherwise—are also a mainstay.

"You're free?" a resident asks me.

Week 5, 2012: Meetings

We had the second week of our Rheumatology-Orthopedics-Rehabilitation Medicine rotation. This was taken during the case conference, where Krushna Canlas discussed avascular necrosis.

How to prepare for interview for admission to the UP College of Medicine

I got an email from a reader asking me for tips for the UP College of Medicine interview. I don't know how else to respond, except to say the standard disclaimer that I was only interviewed once. That singular episode pretty much sums up the wealth of my experience.¹

The idea behind these interviews is for the admissions panel to evaluate the applicants' interest in taking up Medicine, not only as a degree but as a profession. By observation, only half of those who qualify for interview eventually make it to the College. So, yes, it gets really competitive. An inherent flaw of the process is that the interviews are largely subjective. Different people will have different impressions. But the panel members somehow follow a standard questionnaire. There's room for flexibility because they can ask follow-ups to clarify vague responses. They actually jot down the applicants' words for further assessment.²

So what do the panel members want to see in you, the applicant?

The Story of the Phone that Was Lost and Now Found, Part Two

My cheap Nokia, the one that went fell off my pocket during a commute, the gadget I thought I would never see again until someone picked it up in the FX, did the very thing it does best: go AWOL temporarily.

I knew I left my phone near the MSU Cafeteria in campus, but I still got worried. I didn't want to lose all the important contact details. I wanted to spare myself the hassle of having to ask for everyone else's numbers, posting all about my demise in Facebook or Twitter.

Week 4, 2012: Treks

View from Cambulo River, Cambulo, Ifugao.