Good marriages are not just accidents. They are the result of hard work and understanding.
The universe is in us.
Tearing through the veil of darkness
Breaking every chain, You set us free
Fighting for the furthest heart You gave
Your life for all to see
East Ave 101: How To Manage A Toxic Duty
And just like that, I say goodbye to OB EAMC. Ended up with Day 1 by accident—bunutan para fair. Really wanted Day 2 para may Christmas and New Year breaks. Little did I know I would have the best duty group ever. I will sorely miss my senior and junior interns. OB was extremely fun because of you!
East Ave Duty has got to be the Kick-Ass Duty. Walang binatbat yung iba hahahaha. Thankful for the upper that is my duty group!
A Day Like No Other
It was another day at the Liwanag clinic.
It was a day that was no different from the rest. We waited for patients that afternoon, but only one came for a consultation. Just before we were about to call it a day, we were told that a resident in the barangay, a mother butler from St. Peter’s Parish, was suffering from bedsores that needed our attention. She suffered a stroke not too long ago, that without much pity or second thought, left her crippled, bedridden and simply unable to help herself. Her husband stood at the clinic door that late afternoon. A dazed look was on his face. He did not have to plea as we felt his desperation from a distance.
He lived alone with his wife and a 10 year-old son, with no close relatives to lend them a hand. He was from Bicol, while she, from Davao. And because he had to work as construction worker during the day, there was no one to take care of his wife. He was only fortunate to have known a neighbor willing to look after his son. After her stroke, it did not take long for his wife to soon suffer from bedsores. He was told, at first, that the bedsores would heal if he gave it proper care. Proper wound care, he did give—but proved not enough for her wounds. Her bedsores grew to ulcers, the ulcers grew much larger, and new sores started in new body parts which caused him alarm.
He recounted his story ever so slowly as we walked deep into the community, turning at little streets we never knew existed to visit the once-healthy mother butler who so selflessly served the church. As we reached their most modest home, we discovered how the little sore has grown to the size of a fist, and also, become visibly infected. There was pus around the wound, and its foul smell engulfed their small living room. She did not have fever, but she was in obvious pain. Helpless, we stood in the room. We quietly watched the husband carefully change his wife’s dressing.
Quietly, we watched him save his wife. Quietly, we watched him love his wife.
I looked at them and felt saddened. I felt awful. There was nothing tangible we could do or offer, and advise was all we could give. We laid out specific instructions for the patient’s urgent confinement so his wife would get better.
"Mahirap po ang buhay,” was his retort.
He had to give up work for a while to accompany her, but that also meant not having the salary to pay off their hospital bills. Mahirap po ang buhay resounded hard in my head. I wanted to get angry at him for choosing to leave their provinces where they could live close to family. Things then would have been much easier. But I couldn’t—didn’t know any better. I saw poverty. And I saw how poverty was a complex issue, weaved into different aspects of human life. Poverty was not all economics. I had ignorantly believed that, but saw now that it was a problem that defied boundaries and limits. Poverty does not also solely root from laziness, or from the unwillingness to help oneself, because these people were far from lazy. They worked hard, but were stuck in a rut. They worked hard, but were simply unlucky.
And it was at that most unexpected moment, I realized the importance and impact of community work. Helping the poor is not the government or church’s sole responsibility. They will not suffice. They also do not give us the license to turn blind eyes and deaf ears. It is social responsibility, it is justice, it is doing what is right, it is doing our part.
Because really, those who are given plenty are given plenty so they can offer help to those who need the help.
I miss my blog. It’s been a while.