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"
my iPod turns 4 today. And the ultimate gift I can give her is the gift of Life. You see, she drowned in a Sink in UST a few months ago because I was too much lost in the music. I thought the little splash wont harm her so I shut her down, hoping that tomorrow, she'd still be around as if nothing happened.
When I came back to the dorm, she had a 2-day seizure. The iPod became a blinker, and hour by hour, she experienced neurologic deficit and her GCS fell to 3. The worst number that scale coulod give cause even the best surgeons and doctors pray their Hail Marys and Our Fathers louder cause hope is slimmer. And then, after many attempts of resuscitation. Her finals words were, "Oh my God im so inlove, I found you finally, makes me wanna say, oh oh oh oh"... she only gets life when she's docked on the speakers but she never seemed like the old iPod I loved before. She doesnt know my favorite songs, the ones that I play when I need to study, when I need to relax, when I need to chill... At that time, she didnt knew. She was just a box of damped up memory that somebody put in.
I missed her. I missed how she whispers to me the perfect melody, taking total control of my mood. I miss how she rides my sorrows and how she empathize my failures. I miss how she wraps my ear and charge my olfactory nerves with the rush I needed to stay awake.She gives me solace of faith when I need it, said in the perfect tone. In the perfect voice. There are times that she fails me cause she's too tired to play background on the moviegenic sunsets I was watching, or she's too shaken to pump me up while jogging (yes, I jog...sometimes) ... But most of the time, she performs. And she performs well. She's very reliable during trips cause she was the only one awake and singing with me when im driving from Manila to Zambales and back. She tucks me into bed when I can't sleep. She gives me unlimited access to porn in even inappropriate times. She gives me feel good movies. She shows funny videos to cheer me up. She's stubborn sometimes refusing different formats. She refuses to listen, she always want to be heard. But despite all that, I Love her.
Tonight marks the 4th year of our relationship. Rare for me and a gadget to last (hindi nasira, hindi naholdap, hindi naiwan sa taxi). She's proven me that there may be times that I neglect her or forget her, but after a few caresses and clicks, I know that her heart's still with me. She knows she's been a part of me, and I'm sure I'm a part of her. Of course, cause she only has me.
She doesnt need to say it to me but I know she's jealous with my relationship with the PSP, the Laptop, my Books, and my real Girlfriend, but I know, she's all too willing for a 1 hour-a-day relationship with me. Because she knows that when we are together, I simply close my eyes, and I forget. I put her loud, and my cranium explodes. I tone her down, and then I sleep. And that, is enough for her to say to herself that she had a life well lived.
Today I had her operated a GreenHills Hospital and the surgeon said we'll change her heart. And in a matter of minutes, she's back in my arms again. No post op or Recovery time. No prophylaxis nor pre-op. Plus I got her a cool new black silicone jacket to keep her warm and cozy from the harsh environment she has to face.. She's now back to life again. And it's her birthday today. There may be cooler versions of her out in the market now with sleekier and waaaay hotter features and apps, but I'll remain to be simple and contented with Her and I. She will always be the best Graduation gift a pre-med student will ever wish for.
(unless somebody gives me an iPad, I'd leave her in a heartbeat haha)
Happy Birthday iPod!
Today, my former batchmates in Med will be walking out of the Arch of the Centuries as part of the ritual of the Baccalaureate. God. Time flies so fast. I can't believe it's been 4 years since I was a part of the College of Science, 4bio1 our class was behind the Medicine graduating class. When they did a roll call for each college, "The Faculty of Medicine and Surgery"... and all the 400+ doctors were standing and cheering and jeering, and I was left in awe of their defeaning shouts as the students were growling proud.
And I said to myself, In 4 years, I'm gonna be there.
But today. This is the in-4-years-im-gonna-be here day. Unfortunately, I'm not part of the Quadricentennial Chorva Batch anymore. Not that being one makes me an extra special doctor and, really, not because you're graduating 2011, your diploma will glow and blink blink that number. It wont give you "extra powers of healing" if you graduated that year. But still, it hurts that Im not part of it anymore.
Man, time flies fast. Very fast. And in 4 years, I have grown a lot. I have a way higher tolerance to stress whether it's academic, physical and emotional. I see things now in a lot different light. I have levelled up on alcohol tolerance and written quite a lot of blogs. And you know what? A big part of what I am right now was because of the failures I had in the past. I learned how to suck it up, and fucking move on. I learned how be a Man. I was forced to adjust, to grow up, to evolve. That's because of the fast paced life that is Med, because of the demands and honor of the Fraternity, because of the Solace that DWTL brings me. There are a lot of times I question these mishaps, and it's good that I do. Because in the process of questioning, I discover a lot of answers that teach me to be better.
I remembered a speech that was said by Steve Jobs:
"you cannot connect the dots moving forward. you just have to move, and move on through life. And you have to believe in something: in God, or Love, or Karma, you gut, your destiny - whatever- as long as you believe in something. And those dots will connect one day and form a beautiful picture"
There are times that we wonder why some points from dot to dot would not connect. Sometimes, the dots really dont make sense. But I know, that if you just step out of it, and give it some time, you'll see how it's all planned out. Stepping out of it gives you perspective, in the right time, you'll see the bigger picture.
Part of that "Better Karl" is that im not writing hate and bitter blogs anymore. And this is definitely not a bitter blog because my friends are graduating, and I have to wait more for my turn. Because I know, I'll get that 'MD' attached to my name one day. Not this year, but I know I'll get there. And I'd still be their colleague. And they will refer patients to me. Paying Patients. :)
Vicky Belo was an irregular student in Med (rumor still yet to be confirmed). Steve Jobs was a College Dropout. Abraham Lincoln lost so many elections until he became president. Everyone's got their own story of setbacks, and failures, and trials.
This is mine, then so be it.
To my Graduating brods, Graduating Bio Friends, Graduating Subsecmates, Graduating Drinking mates, Graduating Classmates, and Graduating Strangers... Congratulations on your MD.
I'll get that one, myself, soon. In the mean time, kampay muna! Cheers.
(written 1week before Vday)
He was at Dangwa. And He was drowning in a sea of flowers.
Of Red and white and pink and yellow and wet and moist overpriced flowers just for the sake of one overrated day. Where women become goddesses counting roses and petals and cards while they float with the cheesy balloons. Where men spend their money on expensively packaged flowers and food and wear red, and hope that at the end of the night, they get lucky. One overrated day when opportunistic establishments horde everything they can suck out of everyone’s emotional pockets…
…while the rest of the world becomes bitter. The one who will sleep the night out or wonder on the next year’s or the next next or the next next next… because the whole day is just rubbed in their face: that they’re single.
My mom went to Dangwa yesterday and joined her as she buys her annual obligatory offering to the Our Lady of Lourdes in our baranggay in Zambales. And it dawned on me again: Vday is back.
Fortunately, this year, someone out there started to say to me ‘I Love You’ back. I checked many times if I was just hallucinating or imagining stuff but the last time I checked: she’s real and she’s human and she’s in the right physiologic mind to say those words to me. So Im not gonna worry on crumbling and crawling my way to sleep and just let this day pass and hope that next year would be better. This year, that ‘someone’ is not imaginary anymore. And part of me still can’t believe it.
But unfortunately… God plays another irony. She doesn’t like Valentine’s. She doesn’t celebrate it. I told her na ako naman magpplano at wala kang dapat gawin. Ayaw parin. “e kung puntahan kita sa bahay o sa work?”, reply nya, “basta wag kang mag suot ng Red. At bawal ang surprise. At ayoko ng roses.” – oh Jesus Christ. She doesn’t like roses? I don’t get that – but then again, either way, I can’t maximize Vday cause Ill be out of the country the first half of the day and she’ll probably be stuck at work or still in a faraway place – bottom line is:
I’d still be sleeping the Vnight off. Again. Not that I’m bitter or anything but it’s just funny how God plays an irony sometimes. You wait for someone special for a special V Day but she doesn’t like V day at all. Haha. But then again, who am I to complain? Im having a Love Story to die for. <3
It’s amazing how someone who’s once a stranger suddenly meant the whole world to you. For years I’ve been partly bitter of the fact why does the world have to celebrate the peak of chuva-chuchu hormones – during that time I have all the reasons to complain because I’m watching from afar. And it’s just rubbed in my damn face that I might as well be just contented with self stimulation.
So as I get through this year’s Feb14 with a happy heart, there’s a part of that heart still goes for the ones whose hearts are still alone but still keeps on believing. To the ones who would courageously walk along Dangwa even though without a special someone but still clinging on that, ‘may-araw-din-ako’ belief. To the people who are happy for their friends, and still hoping that one day, they will be too. To the ones who got hurt, but kept that Faith. To the ones that understand that Love is not just BF-GF but also, mother and child, friend to friend, brod to brod – they understand that Love comes in many ways.
And yes, this also goes for the ones who are bitter. To the heartbroken ones. To all the NBSBs and NGSBs. To Priests and Nuns who are not allowed by God to Love others aside from Him (That’s kinda posessive, Lord. Im just saying). To Kris Aquino and her very public sex life. To every single soul who haven’t met their half yet –
Everyone has a Love Story in store for them.
One that will knock them off their feet.
The story where that they will tell their friends, and kids, and grand kids.
Everyone has a Love Story to tell or about to be told.
All they have to do, is to Believe.
As for me, after a long time, I can finally put the two words beside each other:
Happy Valentine’s
