Since I came back from my short vacation, I have been quite closeted with work in the hospital. I am back on my routine....well, not quite. I am not on clinical duties, per se, but do attend the neurodevelopmental follow up clinic. So I have the luxury of going to work at 9am instead of 730am. Thank God for small mercies. The thing is though, I have been catching up on my research work that I find myself leaving the hospital almost always nearing 7 in the evening. Today is a different story though. The last two patients in clinic did not show up. I could not believe that I am stepping out at 3pm!! And just to make it real sweet, I decided not to do any research today :p
Unbelievable. It is 430pm and there is still daylight...okay, it looks overcast as it has been raining the whole day. But still, a few weeks ago, it would be pitch black by now. And with the light of day, I can appreciate that most of the snow has melted away.
Could it be? Winter is over?!
As Balki (Bartokomous of Perfect Strangers -- remember this one?) would exuberantly say, "It is time for the dance of joy!!"
Woo-hoo!
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Saturday, February 7, 2009
stuck
I have been sitting in front of the computer practically the whole day. And the tragic thing is, I haven't been surfing the internet at all. Well, okay. I may have browsed a few minutes here and there. I have been struggling with putting a presentation together and have been stuck with slide 7 since 5pm!!!
What to do? what to do?
Spend a sleepless night in the hope of getting unstuck?
Or just sleep on it?
What to do? what to do?
Spend a sleepless night in the hope of getting unstuck?
Or just sleep on it?
Monday, February 2, 2009
national anthems and the superbowl
I was down the past weekend with a cold and felt crappy. To top it off, I was on call and went to a community hospital to attend to a sick baby on Saturday which had its sad and tragic ending. On Sunday, I needed a pick me up. My nose was all red and raw, a consequence of the growing mound of used tissue at my bedside. Having Nyquill RTC did not help me get over my jetlag. I was in a continual haze of drowsiness.
I turned the TV on and caught Jennifer Hudson singing the Star, Spangled Banner. Now, I am one of those people who, regardless of the originating country, always feel a swelling within my chest and a catch in my throat when I hear a national anthem being sung. The way I figure, I sense the patriotism and the loyalty attached with every revered song and is a source of pride for any citizen of the world wherever from. I share in these feelings. Weird? That is just me.
It was Superbowl XLIII. It has been years since I have seen an American football game. And just what I needed to see.
I was talking to one of the staff neonatologists today. He asked me how I was. I began to describe my lousy weekend but had a great time watching the superbowl. He is a distinguished and scholarly type and expressed great surprise at my choice of a "great time". And this is how I explained it to him. Granted, it is all very much gritty bodies banging to each other with all the grunting and all is very raw, muscled, earthy and grimy, dirty. But that all seem to make it very grounded and human. The part I love best though is the moments of exhausted triumph and jubilation. An accurate bullet pass completed after having evaded a sticky defense and the wide receiver trotting midfield to a sprint for the endzone. Or barreling through a wall of bodies and at the very bottom of a flesh pile up, successfully scoring a touchdown. Those are great moments. The body is exhausted and yet the spirit is resoundingly alive. Wow.
I turned the TV on and caught Jennifer Hudson singing the Star, Spangled Banner. Now, I am one of those people who, regardless of the originating country, always feel a swelling within my chest and a catch in my throat when I hear a national anthem being sung. The way I figure, I sense the patriotism and the loyalty attached with every revered song and is a source of pride for any citizen of the world wherever from. I share in these feelings. Weird? That is just me.
It was Superbowl XLIII. It has been years since I have seen an American football game. And just what I needed to see.
I was talking to one of the staff neonatologists today. He asked me how I was. I began to describe my lousy weekend but had a great time watching the superbowl. He is a distinguished and scholarly type and expressed great surprise at my choice of a "great time". And this is how I explained it to him. Granted, it is all very much gritty bodies banging to each other with all the grunting and all is very raw, muscled, earthy and grimy, dirty. But that all seem to make it very grounded and human. The part I love best though is the moments of exhausted triumph and jubilation. An accurate bullet pass completed after having evaded a sticky defense and the wide receiver trotting midfield to a sprint for the endzone. Or barreling through a wall of bodies and at the very bottom of a flesh pile up, successfully scoring a touchdown. Those are great moments. The body is exhausted and yet the spirit is resoundingly alive. Wow.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
iba na ang may miles
Since 2006, I have crossed the Pacific Ocean eleven times. It is no jet set lifestyle. Any travel I do is out of necessity...for my own sanity.
Air Canada is very happy with me.
I, on the other hand, was not very happy being cramped in economy each and every time.
But, things took a different turn on my last trip.
I remember Ma saying before, "Why pay extra for First Class? When the plane crashes, everyone has the same fate regardless of class."
Well, Ma, Executive First Class is fine, indeed. Worth every penny...had I paid for it. With all the global criscrossing, I earned my hefty share of miles and the upgrade.
Fully laid out on my own "bed", a warmed plate for every meal, limitless wine, being waited on hand and foot, were merely a few of the perks I enjoyed.
Travel has taken on a new level and I could easily get used to it.
It's a good thing, I have a couple of more upgrades up on my sleeve.
Iba na ang may miles! :)
Air Canada is very happy with me.
I, on the other hand, was not very happy being cramped in economy each and every time.
But, things took a different turn on my last trip.
I remember Ma saying before, "Why pay extra for First Class? When the plane crashes, everyone has the same fate regardless of class."
Well, Ma, Executive First Class is fine, indeed. Worth every penny...had I paid for it. With all the global criscrossing, I earned my hefty share of miles and the upgrade.
Fully laid out on my own "bed", a warmed plate for every meal, limitless wine, being waited on hand and foot, were merely a few of the perks I enjoyed.
Travel has taken on a new level and I could easily get used to it.
It's a good thing, I have a couple of more upgrades up on my sleeve.
Iba na ang may miles! :)
Monday, January 19, 2009
my girl
It is my fourth day back in the country. I relish being mom again. As I am still quite jet lagged (read: waking up at 2 or 3 am), I have more than ample time to prepare for Maxine's morning start off before her school bus picks her up. As she eats her breakfast, I brush her thick hair and tame it as much as I can. We do this in silence. Our bonding time together.
This morning though, Jun and I took her to school. For the first time, after much cajoling, she has agreed to use the wheeled back pack I bought for her some months ago. It seems that she avoided to use it because a 4th grader like her does not use a wheeled bag... that is reserved for kindergarten and lower grade pupils who wow each other with their colorfully decorated/ designed rolling bauls. She is an ate na. However, she has been complaining of how heavy her pack has been lately. The few days I have been back, I see how famished she seems to be when she eats and mystified at where all the food goes. I figure though it all gets expended as she goes to and fro bearing her burden of a bag, like a sherpa really. And so today was the bag's first outing. I got the bag from the back seat with full intention of bringing Maxine to her second floor classroom. When we were at the gate, she turned to me and said, "Dito na lang, Ma."
I remember my little girl wanting me to take her all the way to her homeroom.
Ouch.
"Maxine, this bag is so heavy, I will help you and take it up the stairs."
We reach the top of the flight of stairs to the second floor. She turned to me again and said,"Dito na lang, Ma. Ok na ako."
I felt a stab.
Back in the car, I tell Jun my little woeful tale.
I let out a sigh.
My daughter's growing up.
This morning though, Jun and I took her to school. For the first time, after much cajoling, she has agreed to use the wheeled back pack I bought for her some months ago. It seems that she avoided to use it because a 4th grader like her does not use a wheeled bag... that is reserved for kindergarten and lower grade pupils who wow each other with their colorfully decorated/ designed rolling bauls. She is an ate na. However, she has been complaining of how heavy her pack has been lately. The few days I have been back, I see how famished she seems to be when she eats and mystified at where all the food goes. I figure though it all gets expended as she goes to and fro bearing her burden of a bag, like a sherpa really. And so today was the bag's first outing. I got the bag from the back seat with full intention of bringing Maxine to her second floor classroom. When we were at the gate, she turned to me and said, "Dito na lang, Ma."
I remember my little girl wanting me to take her all the way to her homeroom.
Ouch.
"Maxine, this bag is so heavy, I will help you and take it up the stairs."
We reach the top of the flight of stairs to the second floor. She turned to me again and said,"Dito na lang, Ma. Ok na ako."
I felt a stab.
Back in the car, I tell Jun my little woeful tale.
I let out a sigh.
My daughter's growing up.
Friday, December 26, 2008
boxing day
This is my third winter in Canada. My second christmas. My first boxing day.
What is boxing day?
As I understand, from a business' point of view, after the Christmas rush, instead of boxing up their stock, they would rather clear it.
And from the consumers' point of view, it is time to box up their old stuff and time to replace with the new.
So how do these objectives marry? A ridiculous (in that prices can go unbelievably low and also in the way people behave) and frenzied shopping spree.
In the US, this is equivalent to black friday, the day after their thanksgiving each November. Remember the Wal-mart employee who was crushed to death? That was really a black friday.
As for me, I now reflect on my buys and grow aghast at how much I have spent.
Reality check. Cheap buys upon buys equal a mounting expense tab.
Ca-ching for Bestbuy, Futureshop and the Source... but this is nothing for me to sneeze at.
I'm glad this was my only boxing day.
It may just as well mean boxing (read: beating) yourself to pay up.
Time to condition myself now. Mantra: It is all worth it. Repeat 100 times.
What is boxing day?
As I understand, from a business' point of view, after the Christmas rush, instead of boxing up their stock, they would rather clear it.
And from the consumers' point of view, it is time to box up their old stuff and time to replace with the new.
So how do these objectives marry? A ridiculous (in that prices can go unbelievably low and also in the way people behave) and frenzied shopping spree.
In the US, this is equivalent to black friday, the day after their thanksgiving each November. Remember the Wal-mart employee who was crushed to death? That was really a black friday.
As for me, I now reflect on my buys and grow aghast at how much I have spent.
Reality check. Cheap buys upon buys equal a mounting expense tab.
Ca-ching for Bestbuy, Futureshop and the Source... but this is nothing for me to sneeze at.
I'm glad this was my only boxing day.
It may just as well mean boxing (read: beating) yourself to pay up.
Time to condition myself now. Mantra: It is all worth it. Repeat 100 times.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
a christmas like none before
The past couple of days has been snowy and icy. Yesterday was overcast and rainy. Whatever Christmas spirit I had went down the drains much like the slushy snow that melted with the precipitation. I got invited to a Pinoy family get together last night, Christmas eve. The invite was from a co-worker in the unit. I did not want to go but she was insistent. Admittedly, my well thought plan was to stay in my pyjamas and drink all the hot chocolate I wanted. Lenny (my new laptop and friend) and I needed to get seriously acquainted. Oh well...
I had my leche flan and cassava cake on hand (yes, homemade! and I make a mean banana bread laden with chocolate chips) as we waited at the porch for the door to open. There were dreadfully sombre looking snowbanks and despite the festive display of lights on each homestead, it seemed isolated...I did not see a soul. Quite a complete contrast to the multitudes of loitering people back in the P.I. on this same occasion. Finally, the light from within swathed and beckoned us to come in.
The family is big. Think three generations. The patriarch is a 92 year old who has as much vigor as a 20 year old. He and his jovial 86 year old wife bore eight children. Among all of them, I lost count how many children there are ranging from 9 to 29 years old. I felt like an intruder. But they were so warm and genuinely happy to have me there. I felt so mopey inside that I held back tears threatening to break my ducts. This is what Christmas is about. Sharing. Giving. Laughter. Love. Family.
I wondered how my dad would do...how we all would do. First christmas without Ma.
As per our tradition, more of Ma's really, the piece de resistance was turkey and stuffing, gravy and cranberry sauce prepared then by aling Miling and now, aling Rosa. It was a great ceremony for her to carve it as we sit down for noche buena after coming back from midnight mass. I remember finishing my share and yet I always find my plate brimming with more.Then after dinner, we would pose for pictures galore as per our in-house photographer, Ma. Exchange of gifts that followed would never fail to elicit squeals of glee and delight from the kids. More pictures for Ma to take.
This christmas would be one like none before. Melancholy and remembering.
A time to be thankful for what and whom we have cherished. A time to further enrich existing relationships and embark on new ones.
Strains of "I'm dreaming of a white christmas" could be softly heard then.
I shivered.
"I'll be home for christmas" played in my head. Next time. For sure.
I had my leche flan and cassava cake on hand (yes, homemade! and I make a mean banana bread laden with chocolate chips) as we waited at the porch for the door to open. There were dreadfully sombre looking snowbanks and despite the festive display of lights on each homestead, it seemed isolated...I did not see a soul. Quite a complete contrast to the multitudes of loitering people back in the P.I. on this same occasion. Finally, the light from within swathed and beckoned us to come in.
The family is big. Think three generations. The patriarch is a 92 year old who has as much vigor as a 20 year old. He and his jovial 86 year old wife bore eight children. Among all of them, I lost count how many children there are ranging from 9 to 29 years old. I felt like an intruder. But they were so warm and genuinely happy to have me there. I felt so mopey inside that I held back tears threatening to break my ducts. This is what Christmas is about. Sharing. Giving. Laughter. Love. Family.
I wondered how my dad would do...how we all would do. First christmas without Ma.
As per our tradition, more of Ma's really, the piece de resistance was turkey and stuffing, gravy and cranberry sauce prepared then by aling Miling and now, aling Rosa. It was a great ceremony for her to carve it as we sit down for noche buena after coming back from midnight mass. I remember finishing my share and yet I always find my plate brimming with more.Then after dinner, we would pose for pictures galore as per our in-house photographer, Ma. Exchange of gifts that followed would never fail to elicit squeals of glee and delight from the kids. More pictures for Ma to take.
This christmas would be one like none before. Melancholy and remembering.
A time to be thankful for what and whom we have cherished. A time to further enrich existing relationships and embark on new ones.
Strains of "I'm dreaming of a white christmas" could be softly heard then.
I shivered.
"I'll be home for christmas" played in my head. Next time. For sure.
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