things you learn about Corticosteroid Therapy

(a piece about incompliance)



Steroids are a little like Love



At first, you thought you don’t need it, until you get it. At the start of the course, every pain or inflammation seems to be the cure for it. Every erosion or lesion, you apply it. Every bad compression or congestion magically disappears as if Jesus touched it. Give it to a baby inside a womb and it makes your lungs ready to suck in the air that will make you breathe in that much needed fuel for your life. It gives a temporary immunosuppression, but that prohibits the body to attack itself therefore making it therapeutic.



Steroids are somewhat like Love



It’s better if you start low and go slow, specially on special cases. You gradually increase the dose to reach an optimum therapeutic level but you have to be watchful for any side effects and immediately reformulate if there is. Either you change what kind of steroids they are, or play around with the dosage, either way it’s a risk. It’s like jumping on a cliff with inviting waters below: the jump will always be a risk, sometimes you get bruises while falling, or might not even reach the water at all, but if you did reach the water, it might heal you. Sometimes it is looking with the risks that make them worth it. Most of the time, it scares the best of us.



Steroids are Exactly like Love



Your blood goes paranoid and trigger-happily releases all arsenal of immunity. Your bone weakens. You deposit unwanted adipose. Your hormones explode like fireworks. Your body gets alarmed due to being overwhelmed. And then you feel cold. And you chill. And get susceptible to infections. You open your door wider to more pathogens that will try to contaminate you. And eat you. And kill you. Your normal flora decides a mutiny and attacks you too. And then you panic and stop the drug –



--- and when you stop it, you’re a different person. Sometimes your body will not be able to catch up to your mind, all the more it cannot catch up to your heart. You feel weak. Weaker than before you were even sick. You’re left asking the reason behind it. You should’ve listened to the one who prescribed it. You should’ve been vigilant in watching side effects. But you thought you knew better, you drowned in the drug, thinking that it would numb everything and it would fix everything... and in trying to do so, you’re left with none. You shouldn’t have done it in the first place.

bliss

Our little boy turns 2 this 21st. It’s been 2 years since dad asked us if it’s okay to adopt a baby and look how time flies, he’s 2 years old, though a little speech delayed, the rest of his milestones are slightly fine, I still believe the rest of his milestones are still going to catch up to his age. But actually, I’m ok if he’d be stuck in that cute form, those small cute little limbs and his tiny movement as if he’s like a battery operated toy that says “mama” on cue, growls when we say “lion”, poops randomly and farts and smiles as if he’s so proud of it. Cute.

In mornings at home, he’d wake me up by shouting at me or pressing my nipples, and god, his smile? Getting to see that smile, first thing in the morning will let you forget you have upcoming exams the days after. He would giggle at me and pat me, and when he knows he got my attention, he runs away, knowing that I will chase him, and I will carry him and put him on my tummy and he’d try to balance himself, and of course he’ll fall, and I’m going to catch him. Sometimes, he plays with my iPad, watches the animated apps, play donut ninja, fruit ninja, and talking carl. And then he’d throw my iPad away. He would run around the house, laugh, hum a tune, get my phone and pretend he’s calling mom.

What he doesn’t know by that time is that he is helping me get through one of the worst emotional whirlwinds of my life. Each time he’d look at me, he brings me some of my sanity back. Sometimes, I talk to him, saying how I wanted to trade places with him for a while and feel the bliss of innocence, on having nothing to think about, and having Cerelac for breakfast every day. There are times that I would just hug him until his eyes pop out and his rib cage almost break, because for some reason. It makes me feel… Home. And secure. And in the rare times that he hugs back, it makes me feel… Loved. During these times, it was all that I need: a confirmation of being loved back. There was one time when our little boy fell asleep on my shoulder, and all I was hearing was his tiny little breaths, his limbs clasped on my clavicle, and I, at that time, was a total mess – an emotional wreck and unstable and hostile and just had a very, very bad birthday. Sylar was silently sleeping on my shoulder, while I was silently weeping deep inside, carrying him. His warmth. His innocence. His silence. His peaceful sleep. My rants. My contemplations. My questions. I really felt like God was trying to tell me something that moment: that maybe all I have to is to just close my eyes and let God fix my trials according to his will. That I don’t have to fight against his so-called ‘magnificent’ plan. That maybe this is for the best. That I just have to put my head on God’s shoulder and let him mute the world and let me breathe. Let me sleep. Let me escape. And when I open my eyes, I’ll be hoping for the best that hopefully God has made my world a better place while I sleep. If not, I’ll wake again on the next day, and on the next, and the next – I just have to keep my Faith in him that everything’s going to be alright, because it will… I was humming a familiar lullaby, as my eyes were slowly lacrimating and dropping to his tiny little arms, and in the next days when the little baby and I hug each other, I felt I was healing.

  Sylar’s actually the reason why whenever I get the chance, I go home to QC instead of sleeping in the dorm. He’d clear away the dark clouds above my head by merely clapping. He’d increase my endorphine levels by playing with me. And he peacefully walks me to my sleep as the last vision of my eyes that day is him, sleeping. I always hated kids. Specially tiyanaks (pero di sya mukhang tiyanak). But this kid, he saved me. And he still does, every time I needed saving. He saves me, without him even knowing.

  So if one day, you’d be reading this, my brother, Sylar. Thank You. I Love You. Happy Birthday!

Love,

Your Rockstar Kuya

who hopes he’d be sending you to a good school by the time you’ll be reading this,

Power Rangers slash Boyband

When I was a little kid (define 'little', baby), I used to believe in the concept of Power Rangers - that with the right set of  friends, we know we could save the world - at age 10, I didnt know from what it needed saving from, but I know that it needed saving so badly.

And then came High School

We were actually more than just 5, but through the years, we'd been the most consistent. We didnt call ourselves power rangers, (but Just in case, I am Blue) - there had also been close friends here and there, and  we were not the "it" barkada from Highschool. We're probably also the boyband who humbly eat lunch together with each other and each other's girlfriends. We'd have overly corny theme songs that reminds us from each relationship, and we'd be each other's, "tangina pare, ang labo nya talaga", we'd patiently listen, and sometimes pretend to listen, and give out advice, which most of the time, not followed, and we're the one who says to them, "sabi sayo eh. gago ka kasi"  - we'd jam along the songs of Slapshock and Linkin Part and act like we're so cool. We'd wear Elephant pants and Blings, and hide our illegal cellphones on our underwears (mind you, 5110s are hard to keep near your crotch) However we were so diverse, we came from different sections and different personalities and liked different chick types. Just like the power rangers. one was a Geek, one was Cool, one was Wacky, one was a Dancer, one was Gay (HAHAHAHA) The power rangers had a lot ahead of them.

Now after 12 years of Friendship, I really thought things would change much. I thought we'd have a password that only we will know, or a Brand New Theme Song as we morph in and Pledge our undying allegiance to one another - through Chicks and Porn, through Hearbreaks and Weddings,  I thought we'd have a shiny, common costume with a silly big helmet the will not fit me, and worse: wearing tights.

We were still the same, but still so different. We still laugh at each other's exes, and flaws, and like a boyband we know the songs we sang and who we offerred it for. Even after years since Highschool Graduation, we were there are We'd still patch up and lick each other's emotional wounds, and celebrate through triumphs and graduations, jokes and consultations. They will definitely take me as the God of father of their Kids and, paunahan nalang kung sino ang kukuha kung kanino. If one day, I will run away from home, choose one of these 4, and I'll be there - maybe drunk or crying or being stupid (never mind JC, he's on FL, but hey, we never know) - we'd fight over alcohol, and talk on who's paying for what, and be the little kids we were back then. It was fun being with them once again. They were the witness to how I've been, to who I am right now, and theyre ready to understand everything I do, no matter what - actually, even if they dont understand... They know why I'm emotional, and overly unstable, and idealistic, and lazy, and too much talkative, and miserable, and obese, and attention deficit, and exagerrated --

-- They know about that, and together, I know I have the right set of friends, and we can tag along to save the world,

at 25, now, I realized:

It was not just the world that needed saving.

I did too.

To JC, Elpol, Alex, and Burn - Cheers to 12+ Years of Friendship. And definitely beyond

woot to Ramos, JJ, Kurt, Gelo, Gaspi, Diego.

(Inspired from Jared Singer's 'Toybox)

Grief is a form of Fire

It was a Friday, and as far as i can recall, it was almost always a friday, and almost always borderline saturday, almost always the same problem, almost the same hope, always the same result. the facts that happened that night wasnt any different, just wrapped differently. though i could have choosen to ask myself press 'repeat emotion sequence', but that night, I felt different. funny how everytime it happens, it further proves a point, and pushes me further away.... after every time I believed, it came to this point... for that night, I felt numb. Alcohol was doing a great job numbing it and diluting every bitter punch to wrap the bad taste it leaves... and the smell of the smog of the October air and fresh rain was letting me make it sink it all in without too much contemplation. It's letting me breathe it all in and face it like a man, and exhale any ill feelings. It was hard to do, but I knew I was doing it for me - I knew it was for the best. I waited and 

 waited, even though I know I was waiting for no one,

...until the clock stuck 3AM, there I was, standing at my dormitory window, and it seems like the whole world was silent waiting for the next time my phone sings.

i lied in bed with eyes wide open arms folded and had there not been any roof and pollution, i know i would've conversed with the stars and ask why the freaking universe is not letting us work this out. but of course, the universe will not answer that. instead, it will give you a deafening silence and let you figure it out yourself why. maybe it will give a little falling star here, or a twinkle, but that's about it, it will still leave you perplexed and hungry for explanation... maybe the answer will just hurt me, maybe i'm not ready for it yet, but most likely, i'm not gonna get the answers that i needed. maybe i just have to let it be. maybe, i really just have to let it go. 

grief has 5 stages. i've heard that for a few good people, they could sneak their way out ang go right away on the 5th stage, acceptance. for some, they dwell too much on the first. or second. or third. and repel too much on the fourth. 

but for me, Grief, is a form of Fire. You deny first that the fire is already harming you for you thought It was just getting you warm and getting you through the cold night. then you'll start to realize the fire is stealing the air you're about to breathe, it consumes what is supposed to be inside your lungs. And then the fire grows and it starts to 

 chase you, and the next thing you realize, you are standing in front of your dormitory window, at 3AM, thinking if you're willing to jump from the building, or be consumed by the fire - either way, you're dead. And as the fire wraps you, you find yourself conversing with the stars that cannot give you a concrete answe - that cannot give you an answer in 

 the first place. and as the fire burns every single, living hope in the ridiculous little fairy tale, you inhale pure fire just to get your life over with. no matter how painful it will be.

then again, Grief is a form of fire, but fire doesnt have to be a bad thing. it purifies and neutralizes all emotions and memories whether good or bad. it kills all probable pathogens, that even the most minute contaminant won't have a chance of cultivating back. fire could make you catalyze the cooking process and not just let the goddamn sun do all the work. Fire makes even the hardest of metals glow, and be forged into the most lethal of swords. Through fire, they bend, get molded, and they don't break. 

Sometimes, we don't understand why we should take all the heat and let us be engulfed in the fire, but I guess it will all be clear once we get out of it... as crystal clear as your reflection in the shiny sword that will be made out of it. 

so right now, i'm letting the fire burn in me until it kills all hope and toast all pathogens of regret. i'll let it get all the air it wants. I would let it wrap me and devour me, the Universe could even play a background music for all I care, until it will take me higher, and higher, and around and around, until, I, too, will be part of the smoke, and the smoke will thin out, until the air becomes breathable again, and then, It will all be clear. greif will then turn into gratitude, and bitter will be called a blessing. i just needed the fire to be a vehicle, as I ride along its wake.

the war of heart and mind

A line has been drawn in the brain - and no, it's not a Sulcus, it's deeper. Along the Temporal Lobe, they chose to battle, riding along the Highway of Papez – two movements who was usually going the same way, chose not only to diverge, but to go against each other. One is Reason – where logic and facts stand in constant, where black is black and white is white. And on the other end, lying near the Hippocampus, is Emotion – where it breeds color and breathes life, where inspiration taps the best of potential.

 

The War of Heart and Mind has been waged. People all throughout history have had these epic wars inside of them. Some more than once, and some lasted a whole lifetime. Some ended up in regrets, and some set themselves free. But the hard part about this battle is that there is no algorithm to follow on what to do, and what not to do. No rules to delineate, and there is no definition of right or wrong. What makes it even harder is that, after one side wins, there will always be that what-if that slaps you back. That what if and could have beens, and might have beens, that will haunt you – or maybe not. And no two stories are the same. 

 

Emotion was throwing fireworks of colors. For a while, the brain was happy. He was happy. All it needed was a confirmation that he is loved back. Selfish, maybe, but that was his drug. That was his fuel to keep the hormone flowing.

At first, someone else was poking on his cranium. Until, someone else also did it. And someone else also did. Until opinions became suggestions, and suggestions became wake up calls, and wake up calls became bitch slaps – suddenly, reason woke up and picked up ammunition, and aimed right at the middle temporal sulcus.

 

And then they shoot. Facts. Facts. Facts. Fuck. Emotion just stared at the sky, and smiled as they braced for a landing.

 

And then emotion spoke: “Just let me be happy. Please”

 

Reason heard it. And stood for a while, and put the shooting on hold, for reason remembered something: Never had he seen himself so happy like ever before. Never had he been more proud of himself, never had he gotten to be appreciated so much. From appreciating his works, to the way his eyes sparkle, and even the way he snores. Yes, never been that happy.

 

But then, one day, Reason started to get on its feet once again. He thrown more facts and more missiles to Emotion, but they all came back to him with a note, written all over it.. “I Love Her” – it was a Trump Card. A Two of Diamonds. An Immunity Idol. An Exemption – yet reason kept on sending and resending his messages so that he could make his point. Until Reason gets tired of the war. Now I understand the schizophrenics. 

 

Emotion on the other hand, tried to remain vibrant and high and hold on to every single sane thing he could hold on to. Pride was kicked out of the equation. He kept on throwing the same thing, and is not letting reason get the best of him. His drug must remain at a steady state. Because, Emotion thought: this is my story. The story I asked for, and this is it, and I know it – there is no way in hell I will let go.

 

Emotion stood there and gave everything he can. Reason, was there too, not giving up without a fight. It was the epic war of Heart and Mind. Where the price in unknown, the rules are unsettled, and no one knows when this will all end. It drains too much CSF and Brain waves, too much necessary or unnecessary lacrimations, rants left and right, and opinions from other people.

 

After it all, the Two became tired. Botch catching their breath at an imaginary battlefield they stared point blank at each other. And said their last piece for the day before they settle

 

Reason said: You have done what you have to do, and actually even more than you are expected. Yes, I am proud of you for that. But, dude, leave some sanity for yourself. Leave some love for yourself. And even pride. Yes, you Love her, maybe I won’t contest that anymore. But, The fastest way to kill a relationship is to try too hard to fix it. Just let it be. Let God fix it, and pray for the best.

 

And Emotion said: I understand you for being that way, but I guess you cannot blame me from this spell. Maybe you’re right, I should not let this consume me, but please let me keep even just one flicker of hope. If it dies, so be it. But leave the probability of it for me, let me miss her from time to time, let me reply to her messages, let me feel what I used to feel – let me keep a dose of hope in my pocket, you can have the rest. In the mean time, I will cast my own prayers, you can cast yours. And let God do the rest. You are right, maybe I’m trying too hard.

 

....

 

The air was still thick, full of smog and cloud, but there were no ramblings anymore. No one won and I think no one will. One day, they will flow into one road again, and pick up what was lost and heal each other’s wounds, and patch up each other damages. They will rebuild each other again, and maybe Reason will say sorry, maybe Emotion will apologize. Only God can tell.

 

And as both Reason and Emotion were tired, one wave of waves came in that was even more powerful than the both of them: it was Sleep. It purifies, it pacifies, it makes you forget, or live out a subconscious fantasy – either way, it’s an escape.

 

 

...And then I will wake up. And live one day at a time, then sleep again. And the cycle will go on – and the War of Heart and Mind: I just know it will one day settle – hopefully with her (says Emotion) maybe without her (says Reason) – all I know is that one day, Everything is going to be alright.

in closing...

It was Day 488 for Tom and Summer. It is less than day 300 for Me and Her. We didnt have a final conversation, maybe I'm letting Tom and Summer do it for us...

(Tom)...."you know it sucks realizing that everything you believe in was just complete and utter bullshit? Sucks. You know, destiny, solmates, true love and all that childhood fairy tales... nonsense... You were right, i shouldve listened to you"

...

(Summer) "No tom, you were right.... It just wasnt me you were right about"...

...

So, I guess this is it. The old familiar feeling that I just want to sleep or drink away but at the end of it, when you wake up whether with hangover or none, it still lingers and stings. Sometimes I choose to succumb more into the sleep to forget the pain, but, eventually i'd still wake up to the reality of it...that I cant run away from it. It is something that no matter how hard i try to catch in words, it still falls short to how I exactly feel about it. You know it's weird? I've lived 24 years na wala naman siya, how come, at this point, I can't see myself moving forward without her?

I miss her. I miss how her voice whispers to my ears to say goodmorning, the way I hug her and i say 'ambango moo' and she says 'ang asiiiim mo', the way she cooks for me and how it puts a spell on my mood and accuse her na ginagayuma nya ako. Ill miss how painful it is for me to watch her cry, how I say sorry even it's her fault, and how I ask her parents or cousin to help me get back at her. I miss how we could stand not talking to each other because our mere presence beside each other would be enough for me to feel that I am loved. I miss finding solace in just hearing the air that she breathes, and comfort in her tiny little hands, and the rush that her lips bring unto mine. I miss how sweet she is, and how she embrace my flaws and immaturities, I miss how she love me, I miss how we created a world where it is only she and I.

I will miss her. Although we may not have a lot of memories to keep, the lessons I have learned from this relationship will last for the rest of my life. I have redefined the words 'patience', 'benefit of the doubt', and have put the threshold of love to a higher level. I have never thought I am capable of things I have never thought I could do, dealt with unimaginable situations, became paranoid to the highest level - although there is no concrete explanation until now for everything that happened, I guess I'll never get all my answers, maybe not even up to now, but I know someday I will understand why - they will all form a perfect picture when I one day look at it in retrospect. Rob Thomas said it perfectly in one of his songs: ''let the clarity define you, in the end, you will only just remember how it feels"

Oftentimes, we ask ourselves and the end of each relationship, 'were we really loved?' or, 'are there any things that you regret?', 'have the things we've done been properly compensated, or given back?' - we ask selfish things and speak as if we were victims of our relationships, but in the end, we get to realize that the more pertinent questions are "did we really love unconditionally and wholeheartedly?", and "did we try our best to make it work?" - the latter questions will render the first ones useless, because the first ones could be out of our control, but the latter ones, it's all up to us, no matter how uncontrollable things are it's all in our control, therefore we should do it in the best way we can. The first questions are up to fate, but the latter ones, it's in our hands....

So, the question is, did I really Love her?

I have tried to understand Feng Sui, dealt with her friends, patiently waited for hours but still got ditched, she had the worst of mood swings, i waited and made efforts that I never thought I am capable of. I had all the reasons before to let go, but i needed only one reason for me to hold on to: I Love Her. Beyond her mood swings and instability, beyond reason and feng sui traditions - regardless of looking stupid, regardless of the doubters of our relationship (specially to that fat guy who keeps on honking that im delusional), regardless of the complications and criticisms - i didnt mind them all. I swallowed my pride that i choked on in but still swallowed it back. I have loved without considering my own feelings. I neglected myself and my reason just to make it in line with hers.... Damn it. Sometimes, the heart wants what the heart wants.

If that was not loving, then i know what is....

Unfortunately, now, we're over. What more better day to pick, but on my birthday? :( i know that I did what I have to do, and I was there where I was supposed to be - she wasnt.

So, It's over. We're over. :c

....

Someday she will move on. She will be loved by a guy more than I loved her. He will be perfect for her, and they will have their stars aligned for them, he will be pure chinese so that there will be no more issues, Maybe he will be more goodlooking than I am (just maybe), but i wish her only one thing - i wish her hapiness. the true genuine hapiness she craves for, the type of hapiness that is more than she ever felt from me. She deserves all the best things in the world. Maybe God said, I am not the best for her, and I have to be man enough to accept that.

Someday I will move on. But for now I will contemplate all I want, there will be times that I will well some tears, sometimes, I will call my friends and rant about it, and sometimes I will write about it, sometimes I will just pray, I will do everything I can to put reason to everything that happened. No foul words will be said, and no pin pointng will happen. For whatever happened, happened. All i have to do now, like what a good friend said, is to 'refind, refine, redefine, and redeem' - I will embark again on the beautiful journey of finding myself once again, on discovering the things i missed and lost along the way and celebrate the things that i have gained. I dont know if things will get better from here on, whether there will be aftermaths and addendums, but i take comfort in the fact that in the end, everything is going to be alright. If it's not alright, then it's not the end yet... Last sunday, while walking to receive communion, God had arranged the choir so wonderfully and sang a song for me, and it said, "Do not be afraid, I am with you" -and i cant help myself but lacrimate and hold my sister's shoulder - for in that very moment, I knew that im not going through this alone. That God is with me, and that should be reason enough for me not be afaid. God is with me and he sent angels to get me by...

I will move on. I have to move on. I have loved till it hurt me. Loved till it hurt me more, it's about time that I should love till it will hurt no more.

Someday, I will be loved. Whoever she is, she will love me more than i deserve to be loved. And i will love her like the universe has never seen anything like it before. I will be there at a snap of a finger, or make it appear that i am there by mere closing her eyes, and she will always remind me of which love is worth fighting for, and which does not. I will love her with all my hypertensive heart and the complications that will come by it. I will see to it that she falls in love with me everyday, that each day will be more reason to love me more.

All she has to do, is to say she loves me back.

To say she loves me back -

- wait a minute, these are the words that got her into me, but why am I still selling the idea to the next women after her? Havent I gotten hurt before that these should be enough to say enough?... After thinking of these long and hard, i realized one thing: even though the burning ambition for that love-story-to-die-for had me crashing and died trying, instead of giving up, the more shall I be excited and more longing, because I know The next one will be better than the last, and unto the next one, and to the next one, until one day i will stumble upon the best - and that best? She will one day walk down the aisle for me as the most beautiful woman the world has ever seen. She will walk in those perfect smile, and each step will be filled with grace, she will be the one, she will give herself to me wholeheartedly and unconditionally... And by that time, it will all be clear to me:

that the reason why everybody else didnt work out, was because it paved my way for Her and I.

I thought for the past months that I already have her, but, God said otherwise. I was asking God why he gave me to her, or her to me, but Maybe i only have to take comfort in the fact that maybe, it is for the Best. For whatever best it may be. I have to accept that, little by litle. 

So please join me as I Pray to the Lord,

"Dear God.

I guess there is no point in asking why you have given me this story. There's no point in becoming mad at you because what's done is already done. So i guess my prayer will not be rooted from anger but of gratitude...

You know what, Lord?, from this I have appreciated my friends and ruled out fake friends (i really got disappointed for some, specially the fat bastard who's just projecting his insecurities) I learned that my family is bigger than I am, that money does not always equate hapiness. And most of all, Lord, I have learned my capabilities and boundaries, that there is a type of pain that teaches you and makes you strong, but there is also a type of pain where it does nothing but destroy you - in a way, i have seen the art of distinguishing that. May the pain I am feeling right now pass by quick and I know by doing these, it's a step closer... Until tomorrow it will hurt less, and then a lot less, until one day, i will reach a place where remembering everything that happened wont hurt me anymore.

Please take care of Nishi. I have no idea where she is right now, but please, please keep her safe. If we really are, indeed, meant to be, i'll just leave it all in your hands, and not on me anymore. Hindi na ako aasa. Ikaw na bahala, Lord. As for now, I'm gonna have to move on. You know the reasons why, and I know you'll understand. I love her. And as I cross the timeline of saying i love her to i loved her, may it not be a road of bitterness, but of understanding, that maybe we are not just meant to be. I cannot say that it doesnt hurt because it does hurt, but your plan is bigger than the two of us. So, Lord, I let it be. Just please bless her, take care of her, please send people to remind her not to skip meals, and not to oversleep. Send people to tell her that she's pretty and her lips are hot. Have people remind her to always choose to be happy, that there is more to life than what she think it is. Please send her someone who will make her happy more than I did... For her hapiness, is also my hapiness.

I have nothing else, lord, to say, but thank you.

for all that has been,

and for that will be,

may it be according to your plan.

May it be for the best.

I may not always understand what your perfect will demand

But i have to trust you in this, Lord.

Amen.

-i am not begging for sympathy or pity or whatever you may misinterpret this. If you don't know me, I am posting this because this is the way I deal with things, writing is how I figure things out and publishing them in notes and blogs is my way of 'setting them free' and reach wherever they may...especially the bitter feelings, because I dont want them rotting in my sheets. If you're interpreting this as otherwise, it's not my problem anymore. Thank you.

If I should one day have a son

If One day I will have a son, i would have him enter the world, in a slow motion the-matrix style manner. he will be like Neo for he will be the one. he could even wear shades for all i care. Whether he'll go out from her mother through a birth canal or through her abdomen, whether against his will or not, whether term or preterm, i want the first moment when my eyes meet his eyes, my skin touches his, when my lips kisses his delicate, moist body, i want that scene to be spit into milliseconds and further milliseconds more. I will have every single gasp, and grimace, and movement, recorded and not a single thing missed.

 

I would tell him that that it's okay to cry because that will be the best indication that he is filling his lungs with air. 

I would tell him that it's ok to clench his fist, that means his muscle is toned good and coordinated

I would tell him to shout all he can, because that means he wants to be heard, to be welcomed, to be understood... That he needs something

I would tell him it's okay to sleep for 18 hours or even 20 hours a day if he want, as long as he would promise to wake up the next day.

I would tell him to smile on contact as early as the first month not just because the doctors suggests so, but because our world becomes colored and more complete and vibrant and draws a smile on me and her mom, too, just for a simple reflex smile.

 

I would have him perfect

And damaged

And sweet

And bitter

And brave

And scared

And everything

And something

And nothing

Whatever circumstance life may require of him

 

I will set him loose to the world and he could do everything he wants, as long as he own up to his actions and stand by it. To stand by repercussions and consequences. To savor the good things, and control the bad. I'd tell him it's ok to make a few little screw ups in this life, but heck, don't abuse that privilege.

 

I will tell him to be careful with breaking hearts, and take care of his heart as well. I'd remind him that girls are fragile and complicated and gives you a bunch of headaches and not to mention erections, but all the more you should love them, for in that labyrinth of trying to figure them out, of trying to reason out that it doesn't matter if her dress is blue or red, of bending pride and mumbling apologies, one day, you will see beyond that. And you will become a better man after.

 

I will tell him, "Son, She will make you feel something that even alcohol and basketball can't give you, she will make you  choose between her and your friends, or brods, or family or tv shows, and it's okay if you don't choose her. But it's also okay to choose her, as well. Whatever you decide, because you know what? I know you wont listen to my advise anyway, even to ur mom, and to your friends, and even to yourself - if you get hurt, it's okay. In case that happens, I will make a stash of wine in our living room, and i hope you figure out one day that i left it open for you. Break it in case of a heart emergency. Or better yet, run to me. tell me about it, son, i won't scold you, maybe ill laugh at you for a while, but hey, the drink is on me anyway. And yes, I wont tell your mom what we talked about. But please don't expect me to fix things up for you, no, i wont do that, i can only suggest and strongly suggest and forcefully suggest to you, but then again it's your call. Its your heart and penis anyway.

 

My son, I will tell him,  the world out there is harsh on you, and you will be prone to infections and discrimination..

It will be not okay to cry, for it then be called weakness.

I will not be okay to clench your fist because it will be called anger, or if you're unlucky, will be called rebellion.

It will not be ok to shout and have a say, because you will ruffle sensitive feathers no matter whose side you will take on. Even of you take none. 

It will not be okay to sleep because you will miss out something that needs doing, theres always that something that needs to be done.

 

But dont let them them convince you, cause otherwise, they will. 

 

But in case of bad days and rainy days and gloomy nights and drunk early mornings at the end of it all, you can always scoot beside me and your mom in our bed, we'd lie beside you. On both sides. No mater how big you will be. Or how bad alcohol smells on you. Our hug will be powerful enough to shut the world... And there will only be us, three.

 

You can cry, 

clench your first,

say all you can, 

Or we could just sleep 

-whatever you want, my little boy, you are home.

 

There may be times, my son, that you will shout a me, 'buhay ko to' and all that stupid lines you watch on tv ('akala mo lang wala pero meron meron meron'), but always remind yourself that we dont do this just because half your chromosomes are from my testicles, and not because i spent a lot for your goddamn guitar lessons, basketball lessons, different workshops, gym membership, school and clubs and shit and not expect a return of investment - it is because of the simple fact that I Love You (yes i got that one from Vilma Santos)

 

...maybe we're stepping in your world probably more than you want us to be... I understand. But hear me out just this time... Son, it was because when you were born, the world was in slow motion, and all the world was you., you entered the universe and we let you into our world with warm hands and teary eyes, in that moment i remember it's as if im on that room again, the smell of the operating room, the sound of your cry, and slipperiness of your skin, and you... at that moment... you were just everything we have, full of life, full of hope, and full of promises, full of tears. In that very moment, we cried with you. 

 

Perhaps we're stepping in your world more than you want us to be... For that, im sorry. We just cant accept the fact that one day, we have to step away from it.

 

If this is you, son, one day  reading this... If ever I didn't live up to your expectations, i am sorry. But from this sorry, at least know now what not to do. Don't idolize me too much that you'll even copy my mistakes. 

 

Write your own book, make your own path, tell your own story.

 

Remember, son, You are better than me.

You must fucking be.

 

 

(this is inspired from Sarah Kaye's "B" / "If I should have a daughter", one of the best works ive ever seen)

You

He watched her walk into the aisle of glorious music and slow motion scenery and smiles like the sun that glared the whole room






He looks at Her and He melts.






Finally, he held her hand, look at her eyes, and said






"You.






You are the reason why every other girl didn't work out.






They didn't work out because they all gave way for You...






for You and I"














and then, Karl Edejer woke up.

been hacked? or virused?

check my multiply today and friends who were my friends before were inviting me back... meaning, i deleted them? weird. and there's one friend who messaged me "tol, virus yang minessage mo sakin"... and i sent a message daw na "look at you in this video"...

nu ba yan. facebook may virus. pati ba naman multiply. boooo

and so, I write.

This should be a familiar place, for ive been here far too many times that I don't need to acclimatize to the cold and emptiness... and I don't need no assistance what chair to sit on, as if it's been waiting for me to come back all this time... this couch where I sat through years, as I've woven words. I sit here, inhale, and exhale, inhale, and exhale, and little by little, im letting it sink in...






maybe God has a better plan. maybe Feng Sui says otherwise. maybe this is just a test, or just some 'cleansing' to dust it all off so that we'd be smooth sailing right after. All i know, is that I got hurt. Again. And I stared and the screen for a full 5minutes and sighed before I write these words... I mean, again?






Lately it's been really hard to process my thoughts. For sure I know that I did my part in this relationship. I adjusted and bended all I can. I knew I'm up for a ride, but still, i signed up for it. For the thought that I knew it was worth it... But as days go by, it gets blurrier, and blurrier. It gets tougher and tougher and a lot of factors are coming into play.Family. Friends. Feng Sui. Deception. Lies. Regrets. Promises. Emotions. Self. Pride. Complexity. Apologies. Silence. Paranoia. All is sinking in except for logic. And i'm just stuck staring at it all as each of it delivers a blow on me.






And all i'm left for tonight is a prayer...






That Lord, I know, one day, I'm going to see this better. Lord, give me patience. Lord, please take care of her. Lord, give me faith, that one day, I will all be damn better. I'm not going to ask you why is this happening, or if I deserve what's happening. I'm not going to rant why. Because you'll probably tell me that this is what I asked for. But, Lord, why are you making it hard for me? for us? Im sure i'll get my answers soon, but for now, Lord, please be with me. Please. This is unlike any other pain i've had. It's numbing and it's making me crazy. It's debilitating and is something that is hard for me to comprehend. Someday, I will, but Lord, it will only be through your help that I will get there.






Someday, I will understand. Someday, I'll smile at this and see how different I'm dealing these tough times compared to before, and Somehow, I'm proud. Maybe this is one of those lessons I'll get. Someday, things will fall into place. Someday, but maybe not today.






Let's hope tomorrow will be better.

Silver

It wasn't Love at First Sight.



She rejected him many times. And she had a litany reasons why.



But he was a warrior. And he always loved a challenge. Some people sees his confidence as arrogance, including Her, but for me, it's a thirst. A thirst for a Love Story that you will one day tell your kids, and grandkids as your eyes shine with pride how he got through hell for the girl of her dreams.



And after years of courting. While riding on a Bus for Kuya Jed's birthday, She finally said Yes to him. If this happened today, Taylor Swift would probably be singing in the background, singing "It's a Love Story baby just say, Yes"



It wasn't Love at first sight.



But with a megadose of perseverance, confidence/arrogance, and sincerity, stilll, it turned out to beLove.

And it was all that mattered.



...



Twenty Five Years ago, My Dad, a Medical Student, married my Mom, a Bank Teller. You can tell by looking at their wedding pictures that they were so Happy. That they were madly, deeply, in Love. Like Robin and Mariel. Like Ogie and Regine. Like Brad and Angelina. Like Shrek and Fiona. Like Ninoy and Corie. Like Karl and Nishi. Although they're not smiling on the wedding pic behind me as I write this. (Why do most old couples don't smile at their wedding pics. anyway?) when you stare a little longer at their pic, you'll know that they were made to Love each other... But at the same time, looking at it some more, you can also read fear, slightly sneaking in their eyes, scared of the road ahead, you can see a cloth of uncertainty hiding inside their pockets, and a cloud of question marks and exclamation points and ellipses wrapped around them.



What they didn't know back then, was He was going to be one of the Best Anesthesiologists and Pain Management Pioneer in the country, and She will be one of the Top Managers of BPI. He gets to earn from his Surgeries, and She gets to keep all his money. They didn't know that together they'll be treading through a road of the highest of highs, and the lowest of lows. That there will be Diabetes, Fatty Livers, and Hypertension. That there will be Promotions, Graduations, and Celebrations. That there will be Fights, Misunderstandings and Tempations. They have no idea of what God has in store for them, all they knew, and what they held on to, was that they were in Love. And it was all that mattered.



...



I can imagine how my Dad's smile looked like when he was waiting for Mom to walk the aisle. For those who haven't met Dad yet, his smile is contagious. His warmth is enough for you to sit through an entire winter when you're with him. Perhaps I got my people-person attitude from him. And maybe the confidence/arrogance. And the passion. And the drive. And the Heart. I wonder how he felt that day. Was he scared? Did he cry? Was he drunk that night? Did he plan to make a JohnnLoyd exit like in 'my amnesia girl?'



I can imagine how beautiful my Mom was when she was walking the aisle. She looooves attention. She doesnt admit it but she always want to be noticed. Perhaps I got my KSP attitude from her. Also the emo-ness. And the hardworking gene. And the charisma. And the Heart - oh Yes, I said I got it from my Dad. Why? Because they have the same heart. -



But I'm not done with Mom yet. I can imagine how she was walking down the aisle with whatever emo-song playing in the air. How gracefully she'd walk while everybody stares at her doll face. No caesarian sections yet, her ovaries still up and fresh, her body still sexy. Inside her uterus, is a 14wkAOG Incredibly Awesome Baby whom they will soon name, Karl.



In front of God, and the Church, and the Family, and the Town, and the Universe, They promised each to be with each other. To have and to hold, in good times and bad, through sickness and in health. For richer or poorer, till death do they part.



And then, they were One.





...



Now... After 25 years, they are to renew their vows. They'll say it with a lot more meaning, for they've already tested what they said. Through sickness. Through poorer. Through bad times. Through Blood and Shit and Bitches and Bullies and Failures and Fire.



They are to look back on that day, when they said 'I do', and be glad that they did. and still do. and will do.



They will smile at the fear they probably felt back then and pour it with the gratitude theyre feeling now.



They will look back on their pictures, and see how much they've changed. More than just the grey hairs and facial lines, but on how deeper the stories their eyes can tell right now. And how profound the wisdom they can pass to you by just holding your hand.





Now, after 25 years. He doesnt care that he's already the Kick Ass Doctor, and She is now the most hardworking Banker. They already have reached their dreams from themselves. But today, it doesnt matter to them.



Because all they knew,

and what they hold on to,

is that they are

and will forever be

in Love.



That He got Her

and She got Him



And that is all that matters.

a year ago today

One year ago, a guy pushed me to the boundary of life and afterlife by putting a gun in front of head. In that instant, pushing the trigger would mean crossing over from 'here' and 'not here.' In exchange for a China Phone. For a stupid Dual Sim China Phone. With TV.

 

I was that close to crossing the line between a 23 year old medical student about to take his Final Bout in Pharma, to a 23 year old who had a Gunshot Wound straight into his skull, Dead on Arrival. Everything in between, would also be scary. Could be sub-lethal injury, or psychologic trauma, or just the sound of a goddamn gun shooting in the air would make me weak on my knees.

 

We had eye contact for a good 3 seconds. His eyes was shouting anger but still calm and so professional as if he did this for a living. Well yes, he probably does. His voice commanding and disarming, as if his mouth spits bullets that made us mute and paralyzed. It was so weird to feel that a total stranger would suddenly have total control of your life. That that gun was oozing with fear, shooting straight into my eyes. That, if this is the end of one's life, what the hell did I live for? ...Pharma? 

 

So we gave him what they want without a fight. I've always thought that if that day comes, I would definitely fight back... but when an actual lethal weapon is point blank screaming at you, thirsty of money, power, and bursting with greed - you actually have no choice but quench it's thirst and feed him what he wants. He probably got his boundary that night from the Five of us...

 

Maybe he sold those so that he can send his son to school, or feed his twelve kids, or pay for her wife's hospital bills. maybe he's doing it for fun. for the drive. for the power. for the infusion of fear into an unsuspecting victim's eyes. for the rush. either way, he's doing it wrong. and someday, I wish he gets to feel what he made us feel that day. What he makes people feel every single day. How they change the lives of people in just one minute, or worse, end it... I wish someday, they get their own mega dose of fear that's going to be too much for him to handle that he'll choke but it'll be stuck in his throat, unabling him to breathe. And when I see him that way, I'll just watch him die. Watch his eyes sink and spell fear, but this time, the fear is pointed at himself.

 

Right now I dont remember what he looks like anymore, but I wish he's dead. Or suffering from bone cancer or non-hodkin's lymphoma or anything very painful. And expensive. I wish he experiences retrograde ejaculation. Anything painful, I wish for him. I wish him the Worst. That when the time comes we meet each other, that he's not riding a motorcycle anymore, and disarmed, I'd beat his ass up any day.

 

 

It took me at least 3 months to get through the post traumatic stress. Thank God i wasnt injured. Thank God no bullet was fired. and thank God I passed Pharma the next day. But in the next days after that, there were nights I was having nightmares about that incident. That he was chasing me. That he was killing me. That he was whorling me into a hole of knee shakening fear. That that gun in front of my skull, would suddenly mean everything, and that everything will be gone in an instant.

 

So this blog is for you, holdupper - may you experience the worst problems in the world and may you not get over it. I really wish to god that you get killed by a force bigger than you are. And may the fear that you spread along the streets of Lacson one day get to you at the middle of the night and kill you in the form of a myocardial infarction or an angina or a stroke and I hope you won't die because of it, because I want you to suffer. to suffer real bad. And maybe I'd be the doctor on duty that night, and in the case conference, I will then report to the consultant:

 

"30+ year old male, holdupper, filipino, arrived in the ER because of Chest Pain. As a Physician, I let him live by giving him the necessary meds just for him to survive. As his former victim, It was not a priority to relieve him from pain. I watched him scream, and cry, and pray for dear life. His scream was music to my ears, and his face was a sight to see, doctor."

 

" What the Hell? Demerit, Dr. Edejer!"

 

"It's okay, Doc. it's Worth it"