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.

Time travel: The Teddy bear I used to hurt

My childhood dreams...

When I grew up, I wanted a curly hair like that of “Goldilocks”.

When I grew up, I wanted to become a mermaid and swim the abyss of ocean.

When I grew up, I wanted to own a tree house.

When I grew up, I wanted to live the life of “Richie rich”

When I grew up, I wanted to write and draw as good as my sister. 

When I grew up, I wanted to become strong so I can lift the iron stand and also help my mother with other household chores.

and so on...

But there are two dreams that remain …

When I grew up, I wanted to travel the world.

When I grew up, I wanted to become Doctor Tim. 

I wanted to travel the world.

I can still remember that most of my elementary teachers used to ask us "What do you want to be when you grow up?" or “list the five things you wanted to do when you grow up”. Back then, I always knew what to write. Number one would always be “I want to travel the world” although I can’t stand to ride a jeepney back then because of motion sickness. I remember I even told my mother I wanted to go to Manila, but in one condition. I don’t want a ride. We will just walk! Crazy! Thanks God, motion sickness was long gone to me.

I wanted become a Doctor.

My 20-year old Teddy Bear, my mom got this as her award for being the "dealer of the month" of Tupperware

As I child, jobs such as doctors, lawyers, teachers and engineers are the professions to enter into minds so I've chosen to become a doctor. Mind set. I was also influenced by my mother who works in a district hospital as a nursing attendant. On some afternoons, since the hospital was just a walk away from our home, I was sometimes asked to bring her a dinner. I knew from those afternoons (of inhaling disinfectant, of listening to people cough and children cry, of seeing nurses on station preparing medicine for admitted patients) someday I’ll work as a medical practitioner too.

I’m sorry teddy for doing those to you.

My teddy bear became my first patient at home. I used to make a little cut in its forehead and back then pour in red ink (still stained until now). When the cut appears to be like of a real bloody wound I’ll stitch them using a sewing needle and thread. I sometimes apply lotion and creams too or apply Betadine solution.

I’m a grown up now. I went to medical school after I graduated college but it turns out, it’s not easy. I lose courage. I doubted myself as I study. The more I read, the more I feel I am not geared up.  I was hesitant if I could function effectively in life-and-death situations. I was in doubt if I can handle the responsibility of saving lives.

Little by little I was discouraged by my own fear. My mind burnt out.I became exhausted.

But then again, I knew my dreams. All I really need right now is to gain courage and be back in field.

Sometimes things just don’t mix up

Today’s hottest issue on news TV is about DIVORCE. The question lies whether “to legalized divorce in the country or keep the matrimony sacred”— a clear clash of ideal and real.

 It is by standard to keep marriage sacred no matter how difficult a problem is to handle. The couple should manage because it is part of their promises. However, reality said that the relationships of today are way different than the kind of relationships established by our “ancestors” or maybe by some of our parents who endure the dilemma of marriage.  I am sure that there are factors that surround them that favour a long and a lasting marriage. Long before women were contented staying at home, men was excited when they day ends because someone’s waiting and…they both socialize together—there was a little chance of building a tension to ruin a relationship.

Should we really have to insist to live the same kind of life in a different kind of environment?

Nowadays, temptation is just around. There are a lot of factors beyond everybody’s control as much as they wanted to make marriage a happy ending—that includes individual priorities, level of contentment, the likelihood of falling out of love and falling in love to someone else because random crap happens. Social lives of each say the modern world contributes.

And we have to consider the fact that a cycle of violence inside a relationship is inevitable once started, once tension is build by the modern world:

“Happy relationship—tension builds—abuses takes place—apologies and excuses—Happy relationship”.

And sadly, it doesn’t stop with a “happy relationship” it rather goes all over and over. I think no one likes to stay and exhaust oneself with this kind. The mere fact that it is a cycle then the relationship won’t go any further. It’s not that they don’t try or they’re not responsible with their obligations, sometimes things just don’t mix up.

The willingness then to stay was replaced by practicality. By practical I mean, why should you doomed and hurt yourself if you can be free from pain and find happiness with someone else? To live with someone is quite a challenge. Imagine how hard it is for two different people trying to fill the empty spaces to complete the existence of one another. A sort of a lock and key is essential to gain a stable bond. If it’s not meant for each other, it will never work unless one of them is willing to modify and choose to become flexible so the other will fit in, which is not always the case.

So who are we to let an individual suffer by not allowing them to be free because of “standard”?

No one refuses to go along with a happy ending, every one is dreaming of a happy end so I think when someone want a divorce it is not their intension to be just separated. They want freedom because it is everybody’s instinct to survive. It’s because every one is learning the art of changing their lives especially if it is not worthy to live.

With this, I can never tell that having a divorce is a wrong act.

Puto and Dinuguan

Who would not recognize this Filipino food?   

Puto and Dinuguan. In English translation: Rice cake and blood stew. As always heard, this two are too perfect for the taste of most Pinoys.

At 10:00 am today my sister went inside my bedroom like any other day that she does since the day I was discharged from the hospital. I am not acting like a princess. Perhaps it sounds exactly like one but I am actually still confined to bedrest. 

She brought me a plate with 10 pieces of “Puto” and a bowl of “dinuguan”.

My first bite was quite confusing. Maybe I heard people wrong; there was nothing special about the taste. It is rather absurd. The two won’t blend, not perfect enough for me; I can still taste them as two different foods inside my mouth. I should have eaten them separately instead.

My second bite? I tried eating a spoon of dinuguan first before I made a bite of puto. I was discontented. I wanted to savour what people are talking about. They seem to be very satisfied after each single bite they had.I wanted the experience.

Still, I tried making one bite after another. Adding more meat on top of puto also failed me.  And before I knew it, there was no more puto left anymore! That happened in less than half an hour, so you can imagine how eager I was to be delighted.

I don’t why it upsets me that much. I messaged my friends on how does puto and dinugan became a perfect combination? And how should it be eaten? Is there a proper way? Dinuguan first? Puto first? How?  A lot of them said it taste really good in any way. Some said they haven’t tried yet (quite a relief that I am not behind). I have one friend who replied me with “try Dinuguan with a bottle beer, it is much better!. That was cool.

I love eating puto. It is actually one of my favourites but not to be eaten with dinuguan. On the other hand, I rather eat dinuguan with rice. Maybe even cups and cups of rice!

I guess I needed more for tasting until I can be able to trick my own tastebuds that it is a mouth-watering as they said so.

Desperate

People always try something even it’s quite obvious… that they’ll never be pleased by the same thing that pleases other people.

Argh! Where does that come from? I was just trying to be pleased with Puto and Dinugan out here!

Another Day

I can hardly think of something that could somehow make this journal a drama-free. I know I am making people believed I am happy right now—I laugh and I’m starting to love my new life. The truth is, I am still trying so hard to meet their expectations. 

Originally posted at: cristymay.multiply.com

Expectations

Expectations… I been considering myself the weakest… and feel I am nothing in this world—I know nothing… I am not good… and I was discouraged by life… after I lost my essence and found no meaning of my existence… I just live my life the way where winds wanted me to go…soaring in nowhere… enjoying  the journey with laughter and tears… let it be… let it happen… this is my life—who cares?!?

But why are there still people out there expecting something good about me? “Tims, why are you like that?” or “ei, Timz… why? How come? Is that you? Something wrong?” why are they so surprised to know what is happening to me right now?

This is my life… I wanted to be free… let me go… get lost… let me live my life…I am desperate to be happy…let me be...

I am not good… I am not strong… I am not smart… I am Cristy—and I am so tired of expectations.

Originally posted at
cristymay.multiply.com