it isn't just about the turkey

It is Thankgiving weekend here in Canada and I was invited over to Kuya Masselle's and Ate Lita's. It is a time to reflect on the years past, to be grateful for the blessings received and to look onward towards the future. More importantly though, it is also to relish the present, to re-connect with family and friends, and make new ties. No wonder Pinoys living abroad have taken to this tradition. It certainly goes well with two of our great past times, kwentuhan and kainan. I swear I must have eaten food enough to last me a week and then, may pabaon pa!! Thank you po!


tsibugan na!

Kuya Masselle's annual "craved for" turkey


crispy, yummy turon


pose muna tayo

the turkey after -- did I not say it is craved for?!

through the screen

Just now, I have logged off from YM. Being on-line with my family is a daily ritual. However bizarre it seems, my kids have adjusted and wholly accepted seeing me through the computer screen. Maxine would chat with me about school, her friends, I would hear her rave about Pokemon games on DS and her fave mag, Total Girl. Lomi is tinkering with his new toy car, taking it apart and then putting it together. Nikki, who at most times used to ignore me, to my delight now talks her jibberish at me looking straight at the camera. I watch as they all sit together, heads bowed down, as they draw (well, Maxine does, Nikki scribbles and Lomi writes his favorite words). I see Nikki finishes ahead and looks disinterestedly at her sibs' creations. She makes for the bed and says, "Mama! Look!" and she jumps up and down, landing on her bum and laughing out loud. She then pulls, as she screams, on her big sister and brother and orders them to jump as they all held hands. Such a little tyrant! They land a big merry mess on the bed. Up and down, over and over. The laughter drowns Nanay Linda's worries about the bed holding up to such a "beating". But who cares. A bed is just a bed. Easy enough to buy one. These memories are priceless.

losing the future

Dying. It is a subject not many will be comfortable talking about. This afternoon, I had attended a discussion centered on withdrawal of care. Back home, I think this would be similar with the concept of HPR or "home per request".

My first experience dealt with a 24+ week gestation infant who required a full blown resuscitation which I had supervised upon her birth. A day three head ultrasound had revealed bilateral intraventricular hemorrhages with parenchymal extension. We had a family meeting which I thought was just to disclose these findings to the parents and the implications for the future should she survive this acute phase in her care.

It was more than that. "It is our professional recommendation to withdraw life sustaining technology."

The silence that followed was deafening. The mother began to uncontrollably sob. Her husband's tears welled up in his eyes. Sound medical evidence corroborates this advice. But still, I had this unbearable weight on my chest that just threatened to suffocate me. Their pain was so palpable that I hope never to fathom what they went through.

They say when a parent dies, we lose our past. When we lose a partner, we lose our present. But when we lose our child, we lose our future.

Since then, I have been numbed. I have been involved not infrequently in such discussions. To cope, I intellectualize things. It really is for the best. I have learned to detach my emotions....at that moment. Once I get out, I feel so spent. I so want to hug my own kids and count myself blessed that I have them.

The death of a child will always be an unwelcome reality, more so a newborn infant. I marvel at the indomitable love parents have, how else can any feeling human being come to terms with saying "hello" and "goodbye" in the same breath?

let there be light

This morning, I was blow drying my hair in my room and Pat was doing some ironing in hers when something very unexpected happened. I couldn't believe it when it did.

My hair was still wet and the dryer just stopped. I thought I had pulled the plug accidentally but it was still snug into the wall outlet. I heard Pat exclaim, "Brownout?" Huh?

It turned out, a fuse blew and our bedrooms and more importantly, bathroom, had lost power. I sent an email to our super to attend to it and promptly got a reply that the building maintenance people would see to it within the day.

I came home rather late from work. As they say, when it rains, it pours. I had to attend to a 25 week triplet birth and a near term hydrops baby. It was pushing 7 pm when I saw the outside world again after being cooped up in the unit. It was already getting dark. My thoughts were only on a long, soothing hot shower to ease my aches and pains. I dropped my stuff onto the sofa. Going in to the bathroom, I flipped the switch and still no lights! Crap!

Imagine my dismay.

However, this did not dim my plan of a leisurely evening. I will not be deterred. I let the water run in the bath. I lit my tea lights. Lovely. It was better than what I had imagined. Now this is the life.

If only candle power could make my hair dryer come to life too.

the view from my window

When I can afford the luxury of lounging in my bed, I find myself looking at my window. There, I see Maxine's "sun-catchers". These are her glass clingy crayola art creations which she toiled over as I was away on call at the hospital. She would hang them one by one for me to discover as I awoke from my post call slumber.


Maxine literally brings the sunshine in to my room with her sun-catchers.


A unicorn, flowers and a present for me!


My private ocean even in the winter.

I've got mail

I came home exhausted from work yesterday evening. Out of 32 babies in the unit, there are six who are really sick. I have three of them. So that is how my day went. I felt relieved handing over to the night team at the end of the day. I dashed for a quick exit. As I entered the main door of my apartment building, I glanced at my postal box. Junk mail. Don't you just hate it when it gets overflowing with flyers and promotional brochures. They are the reason why I make regular trips to the recycling bin. I was about to ignore them and just leave them there. Hopefully the guy who stuffs them in would see how full it is and will not put in any more.

But what the heck. There may be a good buy somewhere. My credit card balance is down to zero now. Woo-hoo!

I took them all out of the box. Once through my apartment door, I threw the thick wad of mail on the table. A fat blue envelope caught my eye. It was the kind that comes with a stationery set. I picked it up and instantly recognized Jun's handwriting. At the upper left corner it read: From Papa, Lomi, Maxine and Nikki. At the middle of the envelope: To Mama Donna. I carefully opened it and out came pictures, letters, drawings and scribbles. My eyes poured into them. These are certainly worth more than anything I could have wanted but at no extra cost.

the Talk part 1

Ate Fe dropped in at the house last week. During her visit, she pointed out to Jun that Maxine, our 9 year old, is growing up quickly to becoming a fine looking young lady. "Dinatnan na ba sya?" Truthfully, my poor husband did not see this coming at all in the near future. In other words, he was caught off guard and in near panic. What if? How does he explain this feminine phenomenon to her? Of course, the hotline led straight back to me.

"Mama, I think it is time." Time for what?
"The talk." You do it papa.
"Me? What do I know?...I know how to count the cycles and you know..." Men.

I wished I was there. I felt this needed to be done face to face so that I could assuage her fears. Sigh.

Hopefully, this can wait until December. Please Lord.