a flying tale

Sudbury is a city in northern Ontario. Way North. When the deep freeze was here in January, Toronto temp was in -20'sC and Sudbury was in the -30'sC almost -40'sC, I think. This past week I have flown round trip for patient retrievals thrice now. It is a 45 miute flight with clear weather but conisderably longer if the weather is a not. Like today. I got woken up close to 7am to fly there with a team member. A five week old with a tachyarrhythmia unresponsive to adenosine and amiodarone. At the Toronto Island Airport, we were met by the flight crew (the pilot, his first officer and the air medic). We were told it was not the best weather. Hmmm.... The plane was tiny. Just three seats in the passenger cabin and an empty row for our 300 lb transport incubator and other equipment. The flight itself was smooth enough. Midway, the medic, who sat in the back with us, said that visibility in Sudbury was zero and we may have to land in an alternate airport. About close to an hour later, I felt the landing gear going down. I looked at the outside. Hmmm...it was all a white haze. Very thick cloud cover? I motioned to my partner who just woke from her nap. So, are we going to even attempt a landing? As I thought this, I felt the wheels hit land (thank you Jesus!). I swear, even though as the plane taxied on the runway, I could still not see much outside except for the thick white haze. I could not help but right then exclaim a thank you to the pilots. They were doing their own high fives. Apparently, there was another plane who attempted to land before us but aborted the landing as they had missed their spot for touch down. Whew! Now, the flight back is a whole different story. The short of it is, however smooth the flight coming in to Sudbury was, the trip going back to Toronto was a tad turbulent. With such a small plane, I felt every sway and bump. What's eerie too is to hear the propeller and the machine. I closed my eyes. Childhood memories flood into my mind. Paper airplanes. It sure felt like I was a passenger in one.

And I live to tell the tale...

small planes and the police car

My head is in a whirl.
I started my clinical service rotation for neonatal transport on the first of the month. What a first week.
I have been out on "runs" six times now. On two occasions, the venture was in northern Ontario so that we had to ride in a 6 seater plane...not the best thing in the world especially when there is a lot of turbulence in the air. Good thing, I was able to keep my insides in.
In another instance, the team was already out for a baby with a difficult airway, I was summoned in for assistance. The hospital was about a good 40-45 minutes away from the downtown Toronto core. So, how did I get to them in 25 minutes? Call for police assistance, of course. This was at 3 in the morning. As I approached the car, I said that I would not ride at the back. Who knows who and what has gone on in there. It looked pretty menacing. The patrol car "flew" on the hi-way 401 at 160 kph. The officer casually remarked about how fast we were going, looking sideways at me to check if I was alright. No sweat. Ahh..finally, someone who drives like a Pinoy!!
As he slowed in front of the hospital emergency room entrance to let me off (lights and sirens on), the ER staff jumped on to their feet...awaiting the worse, but then out came little me.
I write this now and I think, what awesome memories....

longer days

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!

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?

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.

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! :)

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.