Monday, November 26, 2012

An era has ended


THE ERA of the Two-Week Rotations has ended.

I didn't like Rehab Medicine that much, a fact compounded by my ignorance in all things anatomical.

I liked Orthopedics; the residents weren't just brawn. They had brains, too, but didn't have to brag about it. And they remembered our names, which made us feel human.

I loved Otorhinolaryngology (or ENT). The people were warm and kind, and I finally saw what the larynx looked like.

Ophthalmology wasn't as breezy I had thought it would be, but I had a good run.

SO THESE PAST four weeks, I did things I normally couldn't do without hesitation, such as:

  1. Having meaningful talks with friends. Faith, family, future plans, and personal matters—these were the subjects that often cropped up. I praise God for the gift of friends. I think I haven't done, nor can I ever do, anything to deserve them.
  2. Going home at 12 noon. Twelve noon. Can you believe that?
  3. Having both Saturdays and Sundays free—well, almost. 
  4. Wondering what to do for the rest of the evening. I mostly did some catching up on unfinished novels (David Copperfield, On a Winter's Night a Traveler). I also watched movies that friends highly recommended (Jiro Dreams of Sushi, Last Night, American History X). I wasn't disappointed.
  5. Going home to my brother's apartment in Quezon City
  6. Swimming. There's an old pool on my building's rooftop. I'd go there in the evenings, mostly to finish some laps 10% of the time, spending the remaining 90% afloat, watching the stars and praying.


THOSE PAST FOUR WEEKS were moments when I cried out to God for deliverance. With so many things in mind, my only recourse was God Himself. John Piper wrote about a similar experience:
There are mornings when I wake up feeling fragile. Vulnerable. It’s often vague. No single threat. No one weakness. Just an amorphous sense that something is going to go wrong and I will be responsible. 
I turned to Psalm 61 often:
Hear my cry, O God;
Attend to my prayer
From the end of the earth I will cry to You,
When my heart is overwhelmed;
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I. 
For You have been a shelter for me,
A strong tower from the enemy,
I will abide in Your tabernacle forever;
I will trust in the shelter of Your wings.
The imagery of God being a refuge in times of trouble was enough to lead me on. Praise be to Him for His living Word!

Hearing kids wailing and crying and shouting at the Pediatric ER was a wake up call: the Era has ended—and my free time with it.



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