pitter patter

three weeks to go…

reminiscences of the school year that was will always lead me to the moments which have defined who i am and who i will become not only as a future physician but as a person.

though i started out medical clerkship as lost as a shipwrecked seafarer i’m still thankful for the mistakes i’ve made. i’ve always told my friends that problems in the present will always be fodder for future entertainment. the memorable "clerkship moments" shall indeed keep me laughing well into my old age, cause really, what medical clerk hasn’t had their fair share of bloopers?

how else could i have ever had such unique, crazy, tiring, and unforgettable experiences?

the first time i inserted an IV line on an actual patient, not an orange or pomelo (at the er, on a patient with appendicitis)

the first time i had a code blue with my co-clerks (male surgery ward)

the first time i wrote on a physician’s order sheet (surgery recovery room)

the first time i sutured on an actual patient in the OR (vertical mattress stitches, after a cyst excision in the occiput)

my first OR (assisted in an open cholecystectomy)

my first thora bottle change (male surgery ward;  i’ll never forget cause i was able to use the skills outside the hospital)

when i scrubbed in on an open heart surgery (mitral and aortic valve replacement; surgeon had me touch the heart and hold the prosthetic valve steady while they attached it!!!)

first time i received food from a patient (apparently for good patient care…chowking lauriat meal)

first time i tied a knot while closing on a patient (appendectomy)

the first time i ran a code blue by myself (San Lazaro Hospital)

my first autopsy (legal med rotation; assisted on a 3 year-old, i was asked to run the bowel and look for the ruptured appendix and also dissect the adrenals; was also asked to close)

the first time i saw a severed leg (legal med rotation, surgery er)

my first and hopefully only death threat from a patient (psych ward; patient with bipolar II)

the first and hopefully only time i got bitten by a patient (medicine er, patient in hepatic encephalopathy; had bite-mark bruise on my right arm for 2 weeks)

running up and down all the floors of the ust hospital pay and clinical divisions in the middle of the night, going to each nurse station, looking for any vasopressor i could get my hands on (for a dying indigent patient)

hip hop abs under the stars in sapang palay!!!

the first time i cried, and i mean really cried buckets, for a patient (the 9 day-old boy in NICU who died, i’ve written about him before)

receiving my first ever professional fee (gyne opd; patient insisted on giving me P 500 even after insisting that we were a free clinic! result: pizza for those on duty)

the first time i delivered a live baby girl (Fabella Hospital)

when i took the oral revalida and signed my contract (knowing that 3 consultants and the med school believed me to be a sane and competent physician enough to grant me the degree doctor of medicine…made me cry)

it may not seem like much to others, but in these moments i was either awed, amazed, frustrated, exhausted, exhilarated or all of these at once. the blood, sweat and tears are worth all the lessons i’ve learned. the sleepless nights, the aching legs, the sleeping on the floor… i wouldn’t have lived it any other way.

thankfully, i’m no longer as lost as when i first started…

on christmas night when i was six years old, i heard santa’s sleigh bells on our rooftop.

it happened after i had fallen asleep in my sister’s room on christmas eve night. i was awoken from deep slumber by a thump on the roof above the room followed by the sound of soft footfalls. having been on a mystery novel phase with my sister at the time i quickly turned on the silver flashlight we kept under our pillow a la nancy drew. silence. i could feel my heart thumping in my chest. in my mind, we were either: a) being robbed  b) being visited by santa or c) having a serious rat problem. being the irrepressible child that i was i hoped that the answer was b. a few moments later, the unmistakable sound of sleigh bells (y’know, the one you hear on tv and in the movies…) followed by a few rustling noises on the rooftop confirmed what i had sorely wished for. by the next morning my sister and i woke up and saw gifts in our christmas stockings. i had gotten a beautiful brunette barbie with a pink poufy dress, like what i had asked santa.

this was probably why i believed in santa far longer than other normal kids. i wish i could just believe in things the same way i did as a child. all that mattered to me when i was six was that i heard what i heard, and i believed. now at 24 years old despite screaming evidence, i can, quite amazingly, choose not to believe. denial sure is a bitch that gets better with age.

at age 6 i believed in something because of what i heard. now, apparently, i wouldn’t believe in something even if it pranced around smugly right in front of my face.

this realization comes after having received confirmation that i will be graduating with the degree doctor of medicine this april. it’s that huge reality check that reminded me of just how much i have grown, and just how different i am now from the little girl that i was then. heck, if i had met four years ago the person that i am now, i wouldn’t be able to reconize myself.

i guess there comes a point in every person’s life when he or she actively and willfully chooses to leave childhood behind, and i’m not talking about merely turning 18 or 21. it’s a decision that comes after having realized that real life and all its problems are coming, and that there’s no escaping it anymore. for me, this is it.

i sure miss those sleigh bells. even in the summer.