I won't start this entry by saying "It's been a long time since I wrote something here" or "It's been a while". No. I just did. Ugh. Back to the point.
Charlotte Church's playing "Lullaby" will perhaps be succeeded by a pop song. It's five in the morning and I've been up since 1:30 AM. Posts of 'Congratulations!' and 'Good luck!' flood my news feed. Not for me, though. All these things pushed me to write this down. Still with me? Good.
Today, March 29 2012, Thursday, will be the 7th Commencement Exercises of my dear Alma Mater, Santa Rosa Science and Technology High School, which I (and will forever) fondly call by the moniker SayTek. It has been three years since I last went up that stage, pretty much fucked up my speech only successfully concluding with the phrase that first popped into my mind when I was told that I would graduate as batch valedictorian that tearful and emotion-scrambling afternoon: "Aim high! Fly high! SayTek Hi!"
Back to the present. I'm all occupied with non-academic stuff that I ended up reading my blog posts from my Multiply account, nonchalantly while another batch of alumni register in my high school's registry of existing graduates. May they find their way in the harsh realities of life that they now face. College bites. Hard. And you only have seconds to recuperate. Hold on. Steadfast, you hold on. Never give up. Never walk astray. This is life after high school. Welcome to reality.
====
Previous paragraph written in time with the music's tempo. No time to check it. Just my mind throwing up.
Summer, please come. Or not. I have summer classes to busy myself while the Sol Invictus shine its brightest this year and the Azure Expanses is at its bluest. When will I ever get genuine happiness? When?
One more year.
Showing posts with label should study. Show all posts
Showing posts with label should study. Show all posts
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Saturday, January 14, 2012
First but never my last
It's the weekend before the most dreaded week (so far) of my year. Or month. Whatever it may be, it's the first of the many and instead of preparing for it - hoarding food by the bulk, sleeping for hours and hours and making a post-Apocalyptic video of my version of St. Augustine's St. Augustine's Confessions OR simply by studying - here I am, telling myself to get my lazy ass to read pages of lectures, force-stimulating my vestibulocochlear nerve with my review mix and pretty much psychologically torturing myself with mental images of worst-case scenarios. In a nutshell, I keep pressing on my panic button.
So what would any sensible human do in such situation? If I consider myself sensible enough, it would be regaining my top spot among my nerd-friends in Game of Nerds, scrolling across the Hot and Trending pages of 9GAG until I have read every single newest post (but, who am I kidding? There will always be a new post in 9GAG *facepalm*), giving into Facebook and Twitter and pretty much getting myself into the convoluted alleys of the Internet. And, oh, writing a blog entry about it, if I may add.
My blog title says it all, indeed. I am currently turning these brain farts into readable text that some of you might give the decency to read until this point. Still want to go on? Well, read on, my dear Reader. Read on, I say!
The past two weeks were a blur of sleepless but coffee-less nights, sensation-dulling of the printer humming as pages after pages of duty papers spew out from its paper feeder, body-constricting duty uniform and sleep-inducing afternoon classes. These, I have to endure up to now. Gratefully, never had there been a moment of self-inquiry whether the path I trekked was the right path. Friends verbalized theirs, I kept mine under lock and key, never to surface in my vulnerable mind. However, it's only a matter of time when someone has the key to its hiding place. This week, it will resurface and it will be gnawing on my very existence, questioning the choices I made and pretty much f*cking up with my life.
'Happiness is a warm puppy', according to Schulz, the Beatles counteracts with, 'Happiness is a warm gun'. Not that I relish on the though of having killed somebody here. It's just something I came across while I was surfing the never-ebbing waves of Internet. It is a big world out there. Your internet browser is your vessel. Good gracious, I hope you're not using IE or you'll sink before you even get knee-deep out there! Google is one of its many ports, busy with people finding their way into the tonic-clonic nature of the Web. Some get hijacked by pervert viruses as they get themselves into dirty business, some get stranded in a Circe's Island-esque website scrolling mindlessly until they're transformed into wild beasts, while some are typing away what bugs his mind and others read what bugs his mind.
It is indeed a dulling two weeks for me. And it's just for starters. It was the last day of my first duty week. I was apprehensive because I was expected to do a decent bedside conference with nothing but a collective 12-hour sleep in a week to keep me sane. 'Twas a mess, to cut it short. Then we went to the bedside to introduce him. He was obviously in respiratory distress, yet he kept fussing and removing his oxygen face mask with what little-energy is left of him. I tried to make him comfortable by explaining how the precious gas will ease his breathing. He can't speak since I met him four days ago. But today, I heard his soundless pleas of 'Wag na' and 'Salamat sa lahat ng ginawa mo pero 'wag na'. It was heartbreaking, at the very least. I never gave up on you so please never give up on yourself, was what all I had in mind. Every strand that attached me to impressing individuals with academic prowess that I may possess was severed that very moment. It was my primal plea to convince him not to give up on himself, on life itself. We had to continue with the bedside conference of other patients. By the last bedside, a bantay beside my patient ran into me, telling me in a rushed voice, 'hindi na sya nahinga'. Something dropped inside me.
Like a lead weight just fell in the floor of my stomach. I told the student-head nurse of the situation and drapes were retrieved for privacy. My instructor told the confused-me to check for a pulse and for any signs of breathing. I shakily went to check for a carotid that would have graded 1+ and breathing that surely was escaping from the frail body of the poor man. I reported what I have observed. The doctors came to the bedside to take over and the most dreadful word in the ward was uttered, 'CODE!'. They wheeled in the crash cart but somebody shouted that he had signed a DNR order. He expired before my very eyes. The student staff-nurse went to the side of the grieving wife. I stood opposite them, staring blankly into the yellow gown. My brain went dead for a second and the most stupid and childish thought popped into my mind: I am currently touching a dead body. I pushed it out of my mind but there was nothing left. Good thing I got the hint of consoling the grieving wife. I gently rubbed her back and more tears flowed in her eyes. I dared not speak for minutes, thinking it would be break the frailty of the situation. I then asked her if she needed a time to herself and she gave a little nod. I walked back to the station and tried distracting myself with charting for my other patient. Queries of 'OK ka lang ba?' buzzed my ears and with nothing but a squeak, I replied that I'm OK, but their non-belief in my response was etched in their faces. Even my neat handwriting was replaced with unintelligible lines. It dulled me in a different way. It was my first and definitely not my last.
It may be desensitizing if I am to witness countless remakes of the scenario. What bugged me more is how healthcare professionals cope with such a thing. Do their humanity get rubbed off after seeing people expire before their very eyes. But that's what is expected of them. Not that I am against their apathy or seemingly-false sympathy, but they entered a field where things like these are meant to happen and keeping a firm hold is what they can only do. This is my first. It wouldn't be my last. I have to hold on.
It tried to resurface. That creep that I tried to lock away in fear of consuming me. For a second, I thought every precaution I made to distance it away from me fell into the abyss. There will be a crack in the wall, I am sure. Only thing I can do is hope that whatever come my way these coming days wouldn't do much to rub salt into the wound.
This is me, trying to get a luggage out of my mind. I hope my brain weighs a little less after posting this. Yes, it definitely weighed lighter. Back to studying then. Ciao~
So what would any sensible human do in such situation? If I consider myself sensible enough, it would be regaining my top spot among my nerd-friends in Game of Nerds, scrolling across the Hot and Trending pages of 9GAG until I have read every single newest post (but, who am I kidding? There will always be a new post in 9GAG *facepalm*), giving into Facebook and Twitter and pretty much getting myself into the convoluted alleys of the Internet. And, oh, writing a blog entry about it, if I may add.
My blog title says it all, indeed. I am currently turning these brain farts into readable text that some of you might give the decency to read until this point. Still want to go on? Well, read on, my dear Reader. Read on, I say!
The past two weeks were a blur of sleepless but coffee-less nights, sensation-dulling of the printer humming as pages after pages of duty papers spew out from its paper feeder, body-constricting duty uniform and sleep-inducing afternoon classes. These, I have to endure up to now. Gratefully, never had there been a moment of self-inquiry whether the path I trekked was the right path. Friends verbalized theirs, I kept mine under lock and key, never to surface in my vulnerable mind. However, it's only a matter of time when someone has the key to its hiding place. This week, it will resurface and it will be gnawing on my very existence, questioning the choices I made and pretty much f*cking up with my life.
'Happiness is a warm puppy', according to Schulz, the Beatles counteracts with, 'Happiness is a warm gun'. Not that I relish on the though of having killed somebody here. It's just something I came across while I was surfing the never-ebbing waves of Internet. It is a big world out there. Your internet browser is your vessel. Good gracious, I hope you're not using IE or you'll sink before you even get knee-deep out there! Google is one of its many ports, busy with people finding their way into the tonic-clonic nature of the Web. Some get hijacked by pervert viruses as they get themselves into dirty business, some get stranded in a Circe's Island-esque website scrolling mindlessly until they're transformed into wild beasts, while some are typing away what bugs his mind and others read what bugs his mind.
It is indeed a dulling two weeks for me. And it's just for starters. It was the last day of my first duty week. I was apprehensive because I was expected to do a decent bedside conference with nothing but a collective 12-hour sleep in a week to keep me sane. 'Twas a mess, to cut it short. Then we went to the bedside to introduce him. He was obviously in respiratory distress, yet he kept fussing and removing his oxygen face mask with what little-energy is left of him. I tried to make him comfortable by explaining how the precious gas will ease his breathing. He can't speak since I met him four days ago. But today, I heard his soundless pleas of 'Wag na' and 'Salamat sa lahat ng ginawa mo pero 'wag na'. It was heartbreaking, at the very least. I never gave up on you so please never give up on yourself, was what all I had in mind. Every strand that attached me to impressing individuals with academic prowess that I may possess was severed that very moment. It was my primal plea to convince him not to give up on himself, on life itself. We had to continue with the bedside conference of other patients. By the last bedside, a bantay beside my patient ran into me, telling me in a rushed voice, 'hindi na sya nahinga'. Something dropped inside me.
Like a lead weight just fell in the floor of my stomach. I told the student-head nurse of the situation and drapes were retrieved for privacy. My instructor told the confused-me to check for a pulse and for any signs of breathing. I shakily went to check for a carotid that would have graded 1+ and breathing that surely was escaping from the frail body of the poor man. I reported what I have observed. The doctors came to the bedside to take over and the most dreadful word in the ward was uttered, 'CODE!'. They wheeled in the crash cart but somebody shouted that he had signed a DNR order. He expired before my very eyes. The student staff-nurse went to the side of the grieving wife. I stood opposite them, staring blankly into the yellow gown. My brain went dead for a second and the most stupid and childish thought popped into my mind: I am currently touching a dead body. I pushed it out of my mind but there was nothing left. Good thing I got the hint of consoling the grieving wife. I gently rubbed her back and more tears flowed in her eyes. I dared not speak for minutes, thinking it would be break the frailty of the situation. I then asked her if she needed a time to herself and she gave a little nod. I walked back to the station and tried distracting myself with charting for my other patient. Queries of 'OK ka lang ba?' buzzed my ears and with nothing but a squeak, I replied that I'm OK, but their non-belief in my response was etched in their faces. Even my neat handwriting was replaced with unintelligible lines. It dulled me in a different way. It was my first and definitely not my last.
It may be desensitizing if I am to witness countless remakes of the scenario. What bugged me more is how healthcare professionals cope with such a thing. Do their humanity get rubbed off after seeing people expire before their very eyes. But that's what is expected of them. Not that I am against their apathy or seemingly-false sympathy, but they entered a field where things like these are meant to happen and keeping a firm hold is what they can only do. This is my first. It wouldn't be my last. I have to hold on.
It tried to resurface. That creep that I tried to lock away in fear of consuming me. For a second, I thought every precaution I made to distance it away from me fell into the abyss. There will be a crack in the wall, I am sure. Only thing I can do is hope that whatever come my way these coming days wouldn't do much to rub salt into the wound.
This is me, trying to get a luggage out of my mind. I hope my brain weighs a little less after posting this. Yes, it definitely weighed lighter. Back to studying then. Ciao~
Friday, November 18, 2011
Mum's the word...NOT! and other caffeine-induced
I guess I wasn't supposed to see anything like it. At least not in real life. And not just two feet away from my judging eyes. Let's start the story when things got really weird this day. I started to dig on a packet of instant coffee powder to help me stay alert during the holy hours of one to two in the afternoon. Well, it did help me get through the lecture. But by the time the lecture was over, I was left high. As in coffee-perky-quirky high! Thank goodness I was in that state to get real quirky for a meeting. Time to go home and I am getting real bored (still coffee high) telling you all these things. The next chapter of my chronicles is about having to wait outside your door for half an hour with a brimming and impending full bladder for one helluva stressor. I got in and boy was I surprised to see.
At first, it was plain logical. Who wouldn't get close when two individuals have a something in common. Then it became uneasy when they laid their bodies next to one another during the periods of rest. The closeness that no bond can be forged that quickly except by a really binding act.
The brain is indeed a supercomputer capable of synthesizing data and coming up with a conclusion, even when not told to do so or at least getting ahead of its owner. Everything just fell into their right places, like the moment when only a handful of a thousand-part jigsaw puzzle pieces are left. The apparent closeness. The juxtaposed Somnus position. The covered sleeping bodies. The balmy summer day statement. Then the keystone of the Arch of Truth: the act that sealed the deal.
And powerful enough to be registered in an individual's memory bank. Had I not interrupted the serenity of the scene, more than what I needed to observe could have transpired. Yet everything went lightning-reflex fast. The arm jerked away, poorly disguised as a stretch in midair. The jig is up, no matter how masqueraded everything was. Moreover, awkward as it can get even more, I had to continue disrupting the aura. To my surprise and other unknown affect, thy judging eye met with the carnal ones, evidently forcing me that nothing occurred as sensual as I had thought.
Everything was a blur except for that fraction of time when everything as diamond, no, crystal water clear. A cranium in anatomic position is supported by the sinewy muscle group of biceps brachii et al. The possessor of the aforementioned muscle group has a cranium rotated laterally, towards the cardinal direction of the owner of the beforehand cranial cavity. The raging brain held prisoner by the latter probably had impulses exploding left and right concluding to the release of earthly hormones. The affect of the former was blank as it can get, probably desensitized by its frequent euphoric confirmation. The scene lasted for less than a second but long enough.
It was a balmy summer day and summer classes are as bum as they can get. Interestingly enough, an interesting activity piqued my interest (still under the influence of coffee!) and that person uttered the single phrase that excited a person until the very day. And it was no lie. I have proof, though deniable it may be, I was satisfied that it was indeed true.
Pardon for the randomness of this post (or is it that random?). Powdered coffee hit the 'high' spot in my brain. Then, 'it' was seen. Then everything went loco. And I have to relieve this craziness inside me.
End.
P.S. If your brain has somehow navigated through the fogginess that is coffee-induced, keep the thought to yourself. I just sincerely want to relieve myself off this pressure or my brain will herniate.
At first, it was plain logical. Who wouldn't get close when two individuals have a something in common. Then it became uneasy when they laid their bodies next to one another during the periods of rest. The closeness that no bond can be forged that quickly except by a really binding act.
The brain is indeed a supercomputer capable of synthesizing data and coming up with a conclusion, even when not told to do so or at least getting ahead of its owner. Everything just fell into their right places, like the moment when only a handful of a thousand-part jigsaw puzzle pieces are left. The apparent closeness. The juxtaposed Somnus position. The covered sleeping bodies. The balmy summer day statement. Then the keystone of the Arch of Truth: the act that sealed the deal.
And powerful enough to be registered in an individual's memory bank. Had I not interrupted the serenity of the scene, more than what I needed to observe could have transpired. Yet everything went lightning-reflex fast. The arm jerked away, poorly disguised as a stretch in midair. The jig is up, no matter how masqueraded everything was. Moreover, awkward as it can get even more, I had to continue disrupting the aura. To my surprise and other unknown affect, thy judging eye met with the carnal ones, evidently forcing me that nothing occurred as sensual as I had thought.
Everything was a blur except for that fraction of time when everything as diamond, no, crystal water clear. A cranium in anatomic position is supported by the sinewy muscle group of biceps brachii et al. The possessor of the aforementioned muscle group has a cranium rotated laterally, towards the cardinal direction of the owner of the beforehand cranial cavity. The raging brain held prisoner by the latter probably had impulses exploding left and right concluding to the release of earthly hormones. The affect of the former was blank as it can get, probably desensitized by its frequent euphoric confirmation. The scene lasted for less than a second but long enough.
It was a balmy summer day and summer classes are as bum as they can get. Interestingly enough, an interesting activity piqued my interest (still under the influence of coffee!) and that person uttered the single phrase that excited a person until the very day. And it was no lie. I have proof, though deniable it may be, I was satisfied that it was indeed true.
Pardon for the randomness of this post (or is it that random?). Powdered coffee hit the 'high' spot in my brain. Then, 'it' was seen. Then everything went loco. And I have to relieve this craziness inside me.
End.
P.S. If your brain has somehow navigated through the fogginess that is coffee-induced, keep the thought to yourself. I just sincerely want to relieve myself off this pressure or my brain will herniate.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)