Tsundoku and the story of my three new books

I LEARNED A NEW WORD today—tsundoku, which means "the act of buying books and not reading them." I like this word because I'm guilty of hoarding books, although I do read most of them. My problem has to do with the finishing of books. Alert me if there's a Japanese word for that, too.

About the shrieky teenager who could not steady her hands

FRANCES INVITED me to join her in a travel writing workshop conducted by Lonely Planet guidebook editor Greg Bloom along with other local travel writers. It was at Fully Booked, Bonifacio Global City, Taguig. Minutes into the workshop I had flashbacks of a similar campus journalism workshop I had when I was in elementary, the days when I had awful grammar, limited vocabulary, and bad lead sentences.

What your next-door neighbors probably think of you, if you're studying Medicine

I'M NOT YET done with Maria Reiner Rilke's The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Briggs. The tone is depressing, for it was written when the author lived alone in Paris, plagued by poverty, left to fend for himself. I'm stationed at the Psychiatry out-patient clinics in the morning. I see many depressed people. Reading this novel helps me see the world from their perspective.

Excessive, but of the right kind

AFTER WEEKS of waiting I saw The Great Gatsby in cinema. I went to the 7:10 pm screening and was disappointed at the rather low turnout of viewers. I was surprised when, just a few minutes before the movie began, I spotted AA Agdamag, Jopi Arce, Tel Almanon, and Karla Araneta—classmates in med school—squeezing themselves in my row. I'm used to watching movies on my own, but they made great company.

It's May 16

AND MANONG RALPH celebrates his 28th birthday today.

I can't thank him enough for the Christ-like example he showed me. I was drawn to Jesus when, ten years ago, I saw him praying and reading his Bible inside our room, as if he were talking to a dear friend, his face a combination of seriousness and delight. It was around that time when he shared the gospel to me, as a beggar, after having eaten in a feast, would instruct another how to get to the banquet. Then I realized that Christ radically changes lives. Christianity is real. For that, I'm eternally grateful.

Block Photo 2: Neurosurgery (May 8-14, 2013)

Photo credit: Agnes Custodio

NEUROSURGERY (NSS) wasn't a walk in the park as it was originally endorsed. At the ER I was monitoring five patients, three of them hourly. As the intern-on-duty I had to make sure all the CT scans were scheduled and performed, and the plates and necessary lab results should be available before the residents made rounds, usually at 10 am and at 8 pm. The job was mostly clerical, bordering on being a glorified errand boy, but it was the least the interns could do to help out in patient care. The NSS residents, chronically sleep-deprived, already had too much in their hands to start with.

The Good German

I RECOMMENDED Truffaut's The 400 Blows, a black-and-white 1959 French film classic, to my friend Ching some years ago. She later told me the movie lulled her to deep REM sleep, such that when she had woken up, it was already night time. Sleeping through a film was something that had never happened to her before.

Ching's confession, which still amuses me to no end, has led me to rethink my movie recommendations. I should pattern my tips to my knowledge of other people's tastes, which can change like the weather. Not everyone likes old films from way before the technicolor era. Not everyone likes films where they have to read the subtitles. My friend Leeca, for example, rejects all films I tell her to watch, saying, "Title pa lang, nakakaantok na."

Browline

FINALLY FOUND the time to have my prescription lenses ground for the new pair of browline glasses I had ordered online. The fit is perfect, and I like it.

Out-of-town

THE SLEEP-DEPRIVED neurosurgery resident instructed me to accompany a 60-year-old patient to the Philippine Heart Center for a CT angiogram, which our hospital cannot do, as it does not have the necessary equipment. Heart Center is in Quezon City, about 40 minutes away from PGH, and very near my brother's apartment.

Because it was my first out-of-PGH patient conduction, I had no idea what to expect. Inside the ambulance I studied the patient's history, just in case I'd get asked. I didn't want to embarrass my home institution by displaying my ignorance to the world. The patient had an aneurysm in the brain; unless surgical intervention was done, the vessel could burst any minute, possibly causing irreparable neurologic and mental function, even demise.

Things to like in Hannibal

1. Will Graham's eyeglasses. They look great on him.

Hugh Dancy plays him well—the FBI special investigator who can relive the crime and see it from the killer's perspective. His gift defines him: he hates working with others, he lives alone, and he has the most terrible dreams. He has night sweats, is sometimes found somnambulating, and is almost always bothered by something. Sounds like a psychiatric case to me.

Block Photo 1: Psychiatry (May 1-7, 2013)

I ASKED my block if we'd care to have our group photo taken. For posterity, I said. "We should invest in memories" were my words exactly. Agnes said yes, she'd bring a camera. The next day I noticed that she carried a bulky handbag. When I inquired what it was (I was hoping she had brought homecooked meals to share with everyone), she said, "Didn't you ask me to bring a camera? Here it is."

An SLR, ladies and gentlemen. Just what I've always dreamed of having: a blockmate who knows ISOs, shutter speeds, and the Golden Period. I told her we should make it a ritual of sorts: the post-rotation portrait.

My patient thinks I'm immortal

AT THE Psychiatry Ward, my patient, diagnosed to have schizophrenia, sings his heart out, much to the dismay of the other psychotics in the area.  The song is a familiar OPM classic whose title I forget. He reminds me of my brother Ralph who, when taking a shower, sings as if the world were his stage. As I retrieve his chart from the nurses' station he asks me, "Dok, totoo ba na ang mga doktor hindi namamatay?"

Something about ballpoints

AFTER YOUTH FELLOWSHIP this afternoon I decided to get a new cheap pen, another Parker Jotter ballpoint, to replace the one I had lost at the Delivery Room toilet last March. That pen, which had lasted me two refills, jumped out of my scrub suit when I took a leak.

Ode to PGH interns

AS I WAS walking around the campus this morning, I noticed a sign beside the medical library. "1 day to go!" it read—one day before my internship begins; one day left before their internship ends.

Photo credit: Intern Ma'am Chubby via Twitter.

I'm merely hours away from donning my white coat and resuming the old life I was happy to leave about a month ago. And although I'm grateful for many things, I want to take this time to thank the 2013 interns I had the privilege of meeting and working with—both from UP and from other med schools. As of the time of writing they're now relishing their precious moments of freedom. I can imagine them waking up tomorrow with no thoughts of updating that long ward patient census. What freedom!

Songs before the battle

AFTER MY MORNING reading ritual I listened to Wes Montgomery's Round Midnight at 5 am.

Four days before internship

HAD DINNER at Wai Ying in Binondo. I always eat there when I'm in the area.

Never mind the fracas caused by customers who can't find their seats—the place is always packed. And understandably so: the food's really good. So I was surprised there weren't too many people on a Saturday night.

Was it an island?

WENT out of town today. Island Cove in Cavite—heard of that before? The weather was perfect for an outing: sunny with no possibility of rain.

Snacking and strangling

Hizon's in the 70's. Nothing much has changed. Photo taken from the store's Facebook page.

AFTER my haircut I had afternoon snacks at Hizon's, located at J. Bocobo St. corner Arquiza Street, Manila. I always order the special cheddar ensaymada. It's best served grilled, but you have to explicitly instruct the waiter. I like it there because it's quiet and homey, devoid of noisy college or medical students. You want to finish a book in relative silence? That's the place to go to.

My laughter fix

YOU CAN READ the transcript below.

I DIDN'T KNOW A BOOK can make me howl in laughter until I had read P.G. Wodehouse's Jeeves in the Offing. The characters act as if they'd been pulled out of Dolphy's films, but the humor is unmistakably British.  I would've preferred Pinoy comedy anytime—the world has never heard a more hearty laughter than that of a Filipino's—but local scriptwriters always feel the need to elaborate or explain the joke, which is the surest way to kill it. Wodehouse never commits that mistake.

When something/one other than God sits on the throne of our hearts

IDOLS are things, ideas, people, or entities we value more than God. We're all idolaters in our own ways, satisfying our lives with money, sex, power, good works, and, yes, even religion, instead of God Himself.