Nightmare

The Medicine Auditorium was occupied with Doctors from different departments gathered for an Anual Clinico Pathologic Conference when I arrived. It was an overwhelming crowd. I am actually contented being seated at the back where I had a perfect view of what everyone is doing.

Today I thought of my younger self, back in time when I am fuelled with determination. One fine young lady, I supposed, bursting with strong points and promises. I was once standing in front of the crowd voicing my eagerness to someday wear a white coat with a stethoscope hanging on my shoulder, top of this is completing my name with 2 letters added after my  father’s—M. and D.— letters that empowers a good reputation.

The Class prophecy I read in front of the crowd (which I personally wrote) was the only way I could tell the world that I have a dream—that I wanted to be someone if only given a chance. During those times, it was rather impossible for someone like me to afford a Medical School, and survive it as well.

I can specifically picture out how gloomy I was to be listed as BA Psychology when all I wanted was a Science Degree in Biology as a Pre-Med course even though I was not assured yet of pursuing Medicine. I finished BS Biology and Medicine too. I was always secured. I always believe in myself. I am strong. I was once undistracted.

Today as I return from a 6-day hiatus, I remember all these. I desire to be revived. I want to breathe once again, of good hope.  I need my nerve back.

But how can I possibly finish my end when I am, in reality suffocated with anger? There, I found myself running away from the auditorium after being reminded that I'm shattered. I fail to compose my intentions. I was made-up to regain my strength but still too weak.

I found myself crying as if this agony cannot be fought. What really hurts most is a part concealed until becomes a little obvious…that I’m losing myself along my fading dream.

Behind the Scene

I’ll be on my Duty post (this supposedly be every 3 days) at the Emergency Room which will likely last 26-30hours depending on whatever circumstances may come about—my fear is not to be able to manage emergency cases amidst exhaustion and being mentally drained; I am more distress on dealing with some people whom I wish I'm not working with.  

Life behind this profession can be likened to a life of a poor hearted lad whose downfall of other people is the one that is  keeping them high, whose weakness is keeping them even stronger, whose darkside made them shineout and each scar they reveal from people made them beautiful. Pathetic way of becoming great. Our degree wont make most us any kinder (to each other), that is one thing. 

If this is one of the thousand ways of surviving, I cannot argue then. For there is a need for each and everyone to come out, not just alive but great...by all means

I am not a  perfect kind. I at times can become mad. I guess, as long as we dont messed up during the play and we keep this all behind... we are all doing this good. 

Life behind this nobility...

I shall survive this. 

Going back

Four days and I wanted to count more (if I could still do that) but that would be impossible, even unnecessary. I've been out of my training for four days (leaving my team no notes) which is a clear evidence of how unbecoming I am. 


This is probably the nth time I did not stand firm for what I wanted to turn into. This is the nth time I tolerated myself to waste another piece of me.
I am not running away this time.

You know me by name, perhaps, you know part of my story

I had enough of this poor situation, weak heart, lost spirit. I’m heading my way to the journey I longed for.

I’m walking a little step backward because I crossed boundaries.  Those extra miles I had, perhaps, made me lost my direction.But today, I’m heading my way to the journey I longed for. 

Today I decided to be trained to be the woman whose hands are instruments to save lives. My days won’t be like the days of people around me. My training won’t be as easy and will never be a smooth sailing because I have a scar whose pain I know will persistently linger. 

For as long as I’m on the same ground with the same people to interact with, there will always be someone who will remind me of my flaws (unintentionally as they can be). My days will never be the same. Chances of random things may jog my memories that will awaken the pains that once brought me to my disgrace. 

There will be kind of days--difficult and tough. There will soon be days I’ll surely find myself in one corner deep breathing to ease tension that could probably kill my remaining hope.

This agony will definitely stay—but I’m decided to pick the broken pieces of me, pieces that will soon cause deeper cuts to stir-up consciousness.   

I resolved to be preoccupied with things I needed to regain whatever was lost.

I’m taking back every single thing that was taken away from me—that includes my self-respect, my moral, my reputation.

SAHM: Stay-at-hospital/home-mother

My very own Princess

2 years, 8 months and 20 days being a mother to this lovely daughter, but there are only 332 days of which that I become a full-time hands-on mother to her. The rest of the days, I spent time at the hospital to take care of  other people. Pursuing an MD degree isn't easy. We had to stay in the hospital for a 24 hour duty, 10 more hours of from duty status at the hospital before heading ourselves home; so we're given a 14-hr rest (that includes spending time with your love ones too) then go back for another 10 hour pre-duty status at the hospital then another 14 hour rest before the next duty starts. Physically tired, sleep deprived, mentally drained and emotionally tortured.

Becoming a doctor is a tough decision. A decision you actually have to renew again and again each time you feel like giving up. 

Going home tired and sleepy to your daughter whom you know waited for you maybe the worst feeling especially that instead of using part of your 14-hour rest in playing with her, you needed to work on your reports that is due the next day. On the other hand, how exhausting is it in your part that instead of sleeping straight through the night you have to wake up every 2 hours because you needed to change diaper or make a milk formula. 

I almost give up. Perhaps I really did in some point. But I stayed. I stayed becoming a physician and stayed being a mother in the hope that someday I'll be good with both. I'll make a way to make it all work. 

I'm staying. Someday, sacrifices will make sense. 

Never too late

The road I've chosen to become the woman I am, perhaps, is a long one.

I should have followed everyone else’s track who had chosen a straight path from a Pre-Medicine to Medicine proper but I didn't, not because I wasn't able to but because I don’t want to- I'm not even sure with that. 

My Med life has been complicated apart from the fact that pursuing the kind of career is difficult, expensive, uncertain, a sacrifice by itself.  

In some point I felt exhausted and had a job instead. I became an HR assistant who made sure that the comfort room of 200 employees was functional each day. I became a payroll-master which was obviously way too far from my interest but able to do extremely well because I want to prove myself that giving up med school was worthy.  Then I became a mother—I had one lovely daughter who just turned two this month. 

So I have no way to be pissed by questions like “Aren’t you in Residency training yet?!?” I can't be jealous with friends who graduated on time and is now seeing their own patients, My parents are supposedly proud of me by now showing off my name with an MD to relative and friends.

Then again, I was back in field and had my medical clerkship completed—almost.  I decided to be challenged and make sacrifices—sacrifice indeed.  Relationship with my partner has been through serious ups and downs which almost ended the wonderful side of this kind of life. Tough.

This journey is about to begin J the thing is, I already know which way to go. I am determined.