you're not the green I thought you were.

Mildly colorblind in the green and yellow spectrum.

And so was the explanation of Dr. Vigo on my test results on colorblindness.

We were goofing around in the Surgery Office when Dr. Matic asked us to scoot to the Eye Center for a study being done by his wife. It was fun arranging the colors into the spectrum, but it was admittedly difficult. The pegs had a certain order of shading, and it seemed that some pegs were of the same color. The pink and violet hues were a breeze, but the yellow and green pegs were sort of hard to arrange (for me). Damn it.

Some people say that only men are affected by colorblindness. That is partly correct, for the congenital type. There is also a acquired type, which includes medication, poor diet and smoking. I guess this is where I come in. I'm just happy that I can identify green from grey, even if I'm slightly impaired in distinguishing tints (which I didn't know before). I was slightly depressed afterwards saying I was ready to devour a plate of yellow and orange vegetables to salvage my remaining photoreceptors.

I remember a good friend, she would say that a dress was wonderfully blue when it was violet. I don't know if she's just confused or can't see the color right. One of our junior interns is also suspect to the condition, since he is having difficulty in identifying hyperemia (something red and swollen) from one that is not.

Impaired. That is something that we can be, without even knowing it.

In extreme colorblindness, one can only see the blue and orange shades. No green, no red. A colorblind man can't identify a woman with lipstick. Or a ripe banana from an unripe one. It may seem funny, or ridiculous. The sad part is some find it later in life, and is unsuitable to aviation, or jobs that requires color discrimination.

But being colorblind is the least of my worries.  I was just thinking, what if some people's emotions were the same? That in the spectra of anger, love, joy and sadness, they can only feel two extremes? Able to love without anger or experience joy without love?

7 tweaked.

joycie | 12:32 AM

You're Getting Old When...

You get a babysitter for a rare date night and your husband eagerly takes you to one of the happening places in Chicago. But all you can think about is how the crazy traffic, filled up parking spots and long lines were stressing you out. You tell your husband to get you out of there pronto, end up in one of your pre-Evan favorite date venue, much quieter, less happening and happily sip your margarita. Content.

Doesn't my mom look great? Another reason for me not to fear aging. My nephew Miguel looks so handsome (Tom says he could be an actor) and grown-up too. My youngest nephew Job, what can i say, he's the cutest ever!

A strange thing happen when you hit 39, your friends start to freak out about turning 40 next year. I don't really get what the fuss is all about. Turning 50? Hell yeah! 40? Nuh-uh. For me it's really just a number, a state of mind. I certainly don't feel a day older than 30. Physically I am at my healthiest, strongest even. I have biceps to prove it (power lifts with your child as weights for 3 1/2 years). I can now run 17 miles (27 kilometers) too. How many 18 year olds can say that? I believe I still look around 30. Just ask Tanya (that's why we are friends haha).

But nothing made me more aware with the passing of time than when I registered for Facebook. People I haven't seen for 15-20 plus years have aged. "She looks 50!" I'd silently exclaim only to realize after doing a bit of mental calculation that indeed she is around that number. It feels strange.

It is just not everyday people but in Hollywood too, the sexy, young actresses that you grew up with. I started noticing this after watching "Sex And The City" in the widescreen and got preoccupied by SJP's crow's feet. It got worse this year with Nicole Kidman's sagging neck (made more wrinkly in contrast with her tightly botoxed face) in "Australia". Or the obvious age gap between Sandra Bullock (make no mistake, she was HOT during Jay Leno's recent interview) and Ryan Reynolds. The only fortysomething actress who doesn't look like she aged at all is Jennifer Aniston. For now.

Let me make it clear I am NOT saying I look younger than these gorgeous women. It's just that the movie cameras magnify the slightest imperfections. Not even all the ethereal special effects lighting can make Diane Sawyer, 63 look less older when contrasted Rihanna's 21 year old, youthful face. Why even bother to go through that trouble? It just made it all the more weird.

You're getting old when you see non-celebrity people get interviewed (like in Oprah or TODAY or CNN) with their names and age are shown as captions and you do a double-take. "She's only 35? You mean she's 4 years younger than me? No way! You mean I should look older than her? But she looks old. Am I really that old?"

Yes, you are getting old when you have that inner dialogue going on more constantly these days.

You are getting old when you watch the "This Is It" Michael Jackson movie and realize that the icon that was part of your growing up years, whether you are a fan or not, is now dead so thereby a thing of the past. You are getting old when you actually feel nostalgic and sad at the thought.

You are getting old when you feel lethargic the whole day of Sunday because the night before you had a date with your husband and had two (yes only two) many margaritas. And for the whole of Sunday you feel (and possibly look) every second of your 39 years.

Does it scare me? Not as long as I keep a healthy lifestyle. Really. But ask me again when I turn 50.

4 tweaked.

geri | 02:32 PM

Dyspepsia!

And there he goes to the comfort room AGAIN.

My brother has been vomiting and having diarrhea all day. And all day, I have been calm, composed and doctor-like... although deep inside I am this close to bringing him to the hospital. Of course I'm doing this with maximum tolerance. After all, he is 17, not at risk of dehydration, and able to tolerate intake. It would be a embarassment on my part to bring him there, only to be sent home.

I assured him that the stomach discomfort is something he has to deal with, and will eventually wear off. To make the best of the situation, it was my time to scold him about his poor eating habits (junkfood, coke, skipping breakfast, eating out) I already gave him a combo of Esomeprazole, Ranitidine earlier this morning, and Domperidone when he still wasn't relieved in the afternoon. I know...I am failing my Internal Medicine, and Family Med teachers right now. I'm just extra aggressive when it comes to family. I want them to feel fine right away, or I'll be bothered that I'm not doing things correctly. I am also sticking to the traditional, we made him a cup of tea, and some hot soup. On the crazier part of my mind, I am on the verge of putting efficascent/white flower/vicks with a cross sign over the stomach...good thing, we just dont have it at home at the moment.

When I first took up medicine, I imagined myself, fast forward to the future, being at the bedside of my relatives, or having their children drop by at my clinic, or knocking at my door when they were sick. They also think the same, even saying ' walang bayad kapag nagpatingin kami ha', when I was starting out. Of course I will do my best to look use my knowledge to look after them. I just never expected that when it comes to loved ones, the pressure to perform well is much greater.

My parents especially. They are both in the healthcare field, and I have never been confined, EVER in my entire life.  The younger me had such a low tolerance for malaise, and will stay in bed even if it was just a nasty cold. When I went to the province two summers ago, some of my relatives were asking me to look into their aches and discomforts. My mom answering for me. And so I smile and agree, and feel my brain shrink. Like my confidence.

But that was before clerkship and internship. Medical students know nothing but theories until they step into hell, oops, into the hospital. And only then will they find out who is sick with what. And what sallow skin, pale palpebra, or rhonchi are. I hope that through the daily routine and madness, I am becoming better at what I am trying to become.

As I type, he reports to me that he has nothing more to barf. Darn it. I ask if he is feeling better...he just slumps on the sofa, and procedes to watch tv.

Ok, just two more bouts and we're off.

2 tweaked.

joycie | 10:17 PM

Life Simplified American Style

A couple of things happened to me the past two days that made me thought, "this is what I am going to miss about the U.S. when I retire in the Philippines."

I may like the simplified "adult" transactions here in the US but I believe childhood Philippine style is much better for children with their simple games and toys. Here's a toy my sister sent for Evan which I only gave to my son recently and as you can see it was a hit.

The other day I was at the library, after much hemming and hawing and much searching, I finally reported a lost book. Except for the Harry Potter book that was in our Honda when it got stolen, out of the more than a hundred books I've probably borrowed from the public library since I arrived here 6 years ago I have never lost one. That I can log online and check my library account plus the the "courtesy notices" emailed to me 2 days before the deadline helped a lot. A lot of overdue fines, yes, but misplaced books? No.

The library then informed me that I will have to pay a $16 fine (Harry Potter was $18) for the "Thidwick The Big Hearted Moose" however if I found it within 3 months I can take it back and get a refund. What do you know, as soon as I returned home Thidwick was waiting for me on the coffee table. Tom found it while vacuuming. Yay!

Then this morning I had to return Tom's pills which we found out last night was the wrong ones. Something he has not been using for more than a month. I was also dreading doing this because I remember a few months after I have given birth to Evan for the life of me I couldn't remember what the contraceptive I was taking before the breastfeeding pill. My Ob-Gyne prescribed Yasmin which was very expensive at $75 for 3 months while the ones given by my GP was only $10 per month. But in my foggy state of mind I initially got the Yasmin then paid for it. The $45 difference just nagged me, so before I even left the store I returned the medicine and the pharmacy didn't almost take it back.

So I wasn't looking forward to an argument. I just told myself, just try calmly and if unsuccessful have Tom handle it. For thier sake I hope they won't give me a hard time since this is the second incident when they have given Tom the wrong medicine and my husband is already talking about suing (Tom is especially sensitive about getting his health jeopardized). 

And what do you know, no drama at the pharmacy counter. Just a question if this was a medicine my husband used to take before and that's that. We got our money back.

When will something like this happen in the Philippines? Certainly not in Gaisano Department Store when it takes 3-4 salespersons (one to write your order number, one to ring you up in the cashier, one to check and one to bag) to complete a single puchase.

Sock it to me.

geri | 12:07 PM

Bumping into each other?

Some people call it destiny, some may call it fate. But when you keep seeing this person who has given you a considerable amount of heartbreak, then lets just say, its a curse.

I hate the way he is so unoriginal. He loves sinigang. So I am reminded every time that I enter the canteen. He loves dogs, and they roam the earth. He has an ex-girlfriend who is in the same hospital that I am. His family name is the last name of every 50 Filipinos- like Reyes, or Santos, or Bautista. And his first name is at the top of every person's phonebook. His name starts with double Aa's. Go figure. And every duty in my Pedia Rotation, one child has his name. So suddenly, his name is as common as Jenny or Mark. Or am I just minding it too much? To add to that, my only referral from Orthopedics is also his patient. I get to read his progress notes, he get to see mine. Yuck.

When he was still in the hospital, I bumped into him at the Information booth, at the front of the elevator, at the Emergency Room, at the Canteen. Damn it. Sometimes with his ex. Walking together. Eating together. And catching him looking at me. Which means me, looking at him. Shit. Luckily, I have the advantage of chinkee eyes and glasses. I'd just squint and he'd never know.

When he transferred to a hospital nearer to his home, I thought it was the end of my misery. But no, just when you least expect it, he just pops out of nowhere.

Strike one, September, Andrew and I were walking to this eatery outside the hospital for lunch, laughing about something, when he crossed our path. I pointed him and Andrew just said, "Sya? Ang kapal ha." (for no apparent reason)

Strike two, October, I was on my way home, when I decided to go to a photocopy station. I was watching my steps, when I head him say, "Huy". Damn it. We crossed paths again. And that two second encounter bothered me the rest of the way home. But why?

Strike three, today, we just had a despedida dinner with Ma'am Pearl, who happens to be the BEST ENT resident of all time, for me. We were hanging out at Starbucks in Alabang..and guess what.. guess what..

He was there on the other side of the cafe. With a date. (according to my friends) Which I didn't really mind. We haven't been texting for ages.

I fell in line at the C.R., and he came right behind me. Waving to my friends, (they were obviously enjoying) and then said "Hi "(or more like a "Uy") to me. Whatever.

And so, the teasing begins.  But none of them approves of him and tells me "Buti na lang... (hindi naging kayo, kasi mejo sablay nga na boyfriend)". I just give a big smile, and say that I'm glad too. I truly am. I just don't get the nudging pointy feeling which recurs with every encounter.  It's something that I can't control, I just have to live with it.

They say that when a person has a high I.Q, then equivalent to that is a low E.Q. Though there are many exceptions,  I think this time, I am the rule. Give me a handful of medical cases, and I'd eventually figure things out. But myself, and what I feel, I still can't explain why. I guess that's why no one  gets a Ph.D. in love. If there is, then I guess I 'd like to take that up as well. As if medicine isn't enough studying.

Sock it to me.

joycie | 02:04 AM

Middle Earth

Lord of the Rings? Nope. This is the floors between the first hospital building and the third. Apparently, this is the most benign post of all. The patients are fine, but it takes a lot of walking when making rounds.

Babies. Fragile little things. Baby Fiona will undergo operation for her meningomyelocoele. Her parents have been spending hundreds of thousands (250k for the first operation, 100k for the next) just to repair the open defect on the baby's lumbosacral area. She has to stay lying on her stomach all the time. She looks like a pretty normal baby, but when Dr. Sibayan takes off the dressing, yelch. It looks kind of painful to have a big and deep wound over the back. Aw.

Cut-down care for the two babies at the Sick Neonate Unit. The small premature one kept crying as I swabbed betadine all over the catheter on her neck. The big one, with a cranial problem, did not even move one bit as I did the same. Sad. There's another one, 8 days old, who just underwent exlap ileostomy, stuck with a colostomy bag. I can imagine how difficult it must be for a Pedia Surg to do that, tingkering at the teeny organs. Actually, the operation is just the beginning in surgery. After the OR, you have to cross fingers that the patient recuperates. She's looking good so far.

For the bigger patients, I just absolutely love it when appndectomy and cholecystectomy patients are recovering. They groan in discomfort the first two days, then you see them on the third, doing better, getting to eat, and then the best part- sending them home. On the other side, I just hate it when it takes long for them to recover, and you keep on guessing "What is wrong with you?!" We have this patient on the floors who suddenly developed difficulty in breathing, we were all stuck there stabilizing him for 3 hours. I got to do an ABG, whoopee. Sadly my extraction was mixed arteriovenous (daw). But still.

Minors the next day, I got to assist in a breast mass excision with Dr. Ortillo, a female surgeon. Coolness. Kaya lang no small talk, unlike Dr. Santos, who I assisted in a wound debridement, that kept explaining that our site has to bleed. He jokingly said that "Tanggap ka na sa Surgery" I was protesting, but he said "Ayaw mo nun, ibig sabihin, natutuwa ako sa iyo, ang bilis mo eh!" Referring to the fact that I beat him to the buffet table after our O.R. I didn't care, I was starving!

That pretty much sums up the highlights of my 32 hour duty. I'm enjoying my Surgical Rotation, though I miss getting bloody and dirty in the Emergency Room. I feel that I'm missing a lot since at private hospitals, we dont get to do a lot of procedures...I would love to do an Appendectomy or a Chest Tube Thoracostomy. I'm not going into Surgery so Internship is my last chance. At the looks of it, I guess we'll just be leaving it to the residents.

Sock it to me.

joycie | 09:29 PM

Vegetarians

I give in.  I still think that if it was shot in color it should stay color, but sometimes I just can't decide.  In this case, I think monochrome is better. 

Sock it to me.

HK1997 | 11:55 AM

The $0 Toy

This is one of Evan's favorite toys and it costs nothing. It just needs his daddy's 2 fingers and a highpitched voice, meet Toyman:

Toyman sort of acts like a puppet, he can ask Evan anything about the universe and Evan would give him a lengthier answer than if Dad and Mom ask him the same question. I don't know why but Evan loves Toyman. Tom would be typing in his computer, and Evan would go near his daddys and call out: "Toyman are you there?"

I don't know what other magic Toyman has that keeps my son fascinated because this is my husband's and son's world, I mostly leave them alone. Although Evan also has a favorite $0 toy that mommy made too. A pirate sword for daddy and Evan made out of, what else, a cardboard box. On the night I gave it to Evan, my 3 year old even took it to bed with him.

Who says you need toys with bells and whistles to make small kids happy and entertained? I didn't even spend a dime for both.

The "What Begins" Game

A weekly homework for Evan is bringing objects that begins with the "Letter Of The Week". Last night I started playing the "What Begins With the Letter..." with him for the first time. And we were delighted when we would pick a random word and he mostly would name the letter correctly, like T for Tom, G for Geri H for Hannah etc.

I haven't really been working on Evan's "reading" because I have read that it's not good to force a small kids these stuff and it really hasn't been a priority for me. But lately I could see Evan seem more interested by constantly coming to me and asking, "what does this spell" (what does this say?) while pointing to a word on a book.

Since I don't have a structure for how to teach him to read (I feel lost really), I bit the bullet and plunked $30 on a reading activity/study kit (they didn't have it in the library). We'll see how it goes.

2 tweaked.

geri | 04:24 AM