Relaunching the Kalbo, Kalbo, Masamang Tao series on the day we looked decent

AFTER FOUR YEARS our uniforms already possess the dirty patina of time, some remnants of dried blood and smelly bodily fluids which I shall not enumerate here lest you vomit—oops, I just named one. Naturally we welcomed the opportunity to wear something decent other than our uniforms for the topic conference on placenta previa. The consultant was curious why we looked so good, Pinggoy breezed through the slides like a pro—so I take it that we did well that morning.

We had brunch after the conference and before the public health lecture. The restaurant's lighting was perfect for a photo shoot. Like ignorant, noisy high schoolers we took random shots of each other. Thankfully there weren't too many people around. I'm sharing some of the photos.

Some men from my block: Pinggoy Dañguilan, Jegar Catindig, Casti Castillo, myself, and Bryan de Gracia. My friends tell me I looked like an English schoolboy. Meanwhile, look for Crisostomo Ibarra!

block three men

Take no one seriously

I DON'T KNOW where my copy of Oswald Chambers' My Utmost For His Highest is—a friend must have borrowed and forgot to return it. That book has radically changed me. I read it in 2004, the most memorable and transformative year of my life, for that was when I came to know Jesus Christ personally. Imagine the excitement I had—a baby Christian—as I studied the Bible, relishing every word of it, and making sense of hard concepts like faith and justification and forgiveness. It was exhilarating, not unlike the way a man gets preoccupied with the woman of his dreams—but the experience was so much more.

Decisions

THESE PAST WEEKS I've been wrestling with a decision can impact my internship year significantly. I won't go into details, but suffice it to say that it involves me being given an extraordinary opportunity I do not deserve, something I owe to God's overflowing goodness. Taking that opportunity means I may have to give up on the other good things I've come to cherish these past four years.

Reflections on my Hospice rotation

Excerpt from the paper I submitted for my rotation at the Supportive, Hospice, and Palliative Medicine of the Department of Family and Community Medicine, University of the Philippines - Philippine General Hospital.

week 40, 2012: Pole

I READ Elizabeth Kubler-Ross' book, On Death and Dying, two summers ago. The stages of grief that Dr. Kubler-Ross proposed took on a new light as I read about patients in denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. The images on my head of people suffering and dying and of the doctors telling them they don't have too long to live were distant, impersonal vignettes. At the time my hospital exposure was limited to short interview sessions with patients assigned to me, so I didn't know what the situation really was at the Philippine General Hospital. I was both inspired and challenged, of course. Taking care of the dying seemed like the sort of thing great doctors did well. I wanted to be a compassionate doctor, and, idealistic as this may sound, to be the best doctor that I could be.

In search of new glasses

I MIGHT buy new glasses any time soon. That's been on my checklist for the longest time. The last time I bought a pair was in September 2011. Incidentally Manong Ralph got new ones last week. I tried the glasses on, and they fit me well. I shall implore him to hand them to me once he gets sick of them—which I hope will happen very soon.