She taught me real estate when I was young and naive
When I was lost, she told me of Engr. Cruz's review classes
From then on, I became a broker, a realtor, and so much more

She showed me the Mirror of the past, present and future
And warned me -
that it was treacherous to shape ones actions according to the mirror
In the sacred halls of UST Hospital of course,
In the sacred halls of Lothlórien.

All these she showed me even the scars on her body
Living testament to her part in the great battle of Middle - Earth.

So it is only fitting that I write an ode for her
Before she leaves for America -
Before she leaves for Valinor.

Greatest Lady of Ñoldor, know that you are, and will always be,
my constant star.
I will love you and hold your hand
Even when the moon no longer shines
Or this wretched body withers like all mortal men.

It may have been an accident when I met you that night in SM Megamall
On my way to the treacherous Mount Doom
Then again, you of all people taught me that there are no accidents in life -

Only magic. Only hope. Only love.

It was the morning after the devastation of Typhoon Undoy. What seemed to be a beautiful day turned out to be a nightmare for most of the residents in Metro Manila. And since I was spared, I felt it was my duty to help at least in among those whose lives have been ruined.

Survivor. I like that word. You see a few weeks ago I was also invited by ABS CBN to help the survivors of the Superferry Tragedy. In the wake of an even greater disaster, we are left with wondering why these things are happening. We have been, afterall, good followers of the faith.

How then could a God be so cruel to make us suffer just so he can claim he has dominion over all life? It is a God only the zealots can understand.

Of course to the intellectuals we can blame it on so many others things. Things like Climate Change, Global Warming, or even the sheer stupidity of opening those dams when the rain was at its peak.

Then again, when faced with an overwhelming tragedy, when lives and properties are lost, it is only human nature to seek consolation that there is a greater meaning in everything that is happening to us.

When I went to Krus na Ligas to volunteer for the medical/dental mission after the typhoon, I came armed with knowledge on Disaster Coordination, Infectious Diseases, Biblical passages and yes, even Post traumatic Stress Syndrome. Then I met Anna, the girl in the photograph who told me about her ordeal and realized that in the end, words are all we really have.

There was once a place where legendary martyrs of the Philippines used to describe as beautiful and inspiring. There was once a place where Filipino poets and painters watch in awe as the proverbial bangka passes by ferrying commuters from Laguna de Bay towards Manila Bay.

That is all a memory now.

In a medical mission last August 1, 2009 in Mabunga Pasig, I was honored to see for the first time the historic Pasig River. Robbed of its former glory and with the dreadful stench of feces and urine, I can't help but wonder how we virtually abused this once beautiful river.

Global Warming. Overpopulation. We really made a mess of this world.

And just when you thought all hope is extinguished, comes the romantics. Described by some as desperate as the river itself, they believe that things can and do change. They believe that there is still time for regaining the former glory that was once the Pasig River. They believe that by taking care of our environment and our fellowmen, we can ensure a better world for our children.

And so goes my tribute to them. My ode to the romantics.

To the Live for Others Movement of Mabuga Pasig - the women who work desperately and tirelessly day in and day out to care and live for others. May you continually be blessed and may you never lose that spark that makes you all so endearing and inspiring.

And to nameless others who continually fight for our earth.

I have a confession to make, she told me. And with those simple words, she caught my attention.

My name is Nancy and I am a Breast Cancer Survivor.

In a medical mission in Tambo, Paranaque last May 24 2009, a 65 year old woman came up to me complaining of numbness on her right and left hands. With a history of breast cancer status post radiation therapy, status post surgery, before I could even speak, she told me up front that whatever tests I was going to order for her she will not be able to afford it. She had no money.

Discussion closed.

So I told her a bunch of technical stuffs like recurrence, Batson's plexus, and statistics to scare her until halfway I realized, how pathetic I was.

This is human being who told me she just survived something horrific in her life. Someone who just went through hell and somehow among all the physicians in that room, she wanted to share her story with me.

So I stopped talking and started listening. Intently. About how difficult it was without money even in the Philippine General Hospital. About how the 4 other women she was in the same room with in PGH eventually fell to the disease.

I listened as she told me how she was transformed by the grace of God and how she was willing to serve him until the end.

It was at that moment amidst the noise, the confusion and the squalor that pervades all medical missions that I realized, I had a lot to be thankful for.

There is a lesson we can learn in the recent fiasco involving Dr. Hayden Kho and Katrina Halili that speaks to all of us.

Lessons like looks can be deceiving. Never trust anyone and when all things fail, there is always a sunshine after every storm. Or a good PR.

What I find appalling though was the swine flu epidemic suddenly lost momentum after the sex scandal. I mean who cares about schools being closed when where is a scandal? Sex always tops the bill when it comes to making headlines.

Being a physician myself, I could not understand how a fellow physician could actually tape himself knowing that the truth, especially when there is evidence, always comes out in the end.

We all have our share of "wild days" that's true. I mean, hell I have more than my fair share. We are only human of course. What is an abomination though is when we use our "wild days excuse" to destroy another human being. We could argue of course that katrina wanted it. I mean look at her in the video. What however we sometimes forget is that there is always the element of "consent" that should always be respected.

Just like in the crime of rape.

I support Katrina Halili and her efforts to stand for herself. Of countless women who have in time and again committed mistakes and yet were willing to stand in the fire.

As for my colleague, I hope that you'll understand the gravity of the situation.

I have always been a volunteer ever since my medical school days up to now especially with AMDA and AMMS. Call it atonement since I cringe every time I hear the word charity being misused of course many many times. And I guess what I learned from my experience especially in meeting selfless people like Dr. Fe Del Mundo and Dr. Primy Chua is that there still are physicians, in the defense of my profession, who never let the title of a physician get into their heads. Who, no matter how impoverished treat people with respect.

This is what the oath of Hippocrates was meant for.

Yes. I said yes for the first time to an out of town medical activity for 3 days in a province I have never been with a group of people I have never met.

I do have a friend who lives in bataan though but I guess that doesn't really count. Anyway bataan is a province subdivided into 11 municipalities with its own history of anguish, terror and Death Marches. No wonder some of the medical technologists who stayed with us kept insisting on seeing the ghost of a white lady while we were there.

Of course I never was the type to believe in something supernatural. Although I have to admit there is something rather eerie about the place, I didn't get the ghost vibe. Still there is sadness in that place. A sadness so deep I cannot even begin to fathom it. So I eventually decided to take it slow and simply enjoy as this soft orange hue covered the afternoon sky in Balanga.

I watched until the world unfolded, so beautifully, right before my very eyes.

I found something interesting in you tube by jonathan reed...



I am part of a lost generation
And I refused to believe that I can change the world
I realized that this maybe a shock but
"Happiness comes from within"
is a lie, and
money will make me happy
So in 30 years I will tell my children
they are not the most important thing in my life.
My employer will know
that I will have my priorities straight
Because
work
is more important than
family
I tell you this
Once upon a time
Families stayed together
But this will not be true in my era
this is a quick fix society
Experts tell me
30 years from now I will be celebrating the 10th anniversary of my divorce
I do not concede that
I will live in a country of my own making
In the future environmental destruction will be the norm
No longer can it be said that
My peers and I care about the earth
It will be evident that
My generation is apathetic and lethargic
It is foolish to presume that
There is hope.

And all of this will come true unless we choose to reverse it.

It was 3 years ago when I first encountered a patient with miliary tuberculosis in San Lazaro. And at 54, he was emaciated and almost dying when I met him. Dying with no one, not even a relative to be with.

I never got his name.

Three years later, I saw again another patient but this time he was or should I say is 18. True to its course, tuberculosis afflicts third world country like a plague from all age group.

So there I was, sitting across a crowded Emergency Room when lo and behold, like a beautiful rose, I saw tuberculosis again in the flesh. Something I will never forget.

And so goes the paranoia and the fear. Also something I will never forget. Just like the Meningo scare and all those dreaded infectious diseases. And it was only much much later after wearing two masks and bathing myself with alcohol that I realized I was talking to a person. A real live human being with wants, needs and dreams.

Lucky for this 18 year old guy though I told him, he had a family who can take good care of him. A family who is willing to shoulder the 6 month intensive treatment.

So I write again this ode for the generations after me so that you will never forget the lessons of pathology, microbiology and pharmacology. Be safe. Be paranoid. Be extra careful.

And finally the last most important lesson of all - be kind.

So I took the xray, referred the patient for a sputum exam and started treatment hoping that I would have done justice to that man in San Lazaro.

It is funny though that I never got the name of the person who taught me the most valuable lesson of all.

I should have just joined my dark cherub and not take the job that day but I decided not to go with her. So instead I almost got infected with an almost deadly disease. Almost. I'm exaggerating because the final diagnosis was actually that of a Cryptococcal type of meningitis but I couldn't take the fear that there was a possibility of a meningococcal meningitis. There was no rash which was diagnostic for Meningococcemia but just to be safe, I, together with everyone in that hospital took Ciprofloxacin(Ciprobay) 500 mg once as prophylaxis. Afterall no lumbar puncture was ever done.

Panic. You how it is. People scurrying and wearing masks all of the sudden. Fear and anger gripped the entire hospital staff. And just like that everybody forgot about the patient.

Except me.

You see I could not stay away from her eyes. There was pure madness. I understood what was happening to her. How slowly her higher brain functions were being ravaged by that elusive organism. Meningitis. That's how I know what it means. She was just 68 and she just came from quiapo church when all the symptoms started. I must have seen her when I went to a medical mission few weeks ago. She must have been happy then. I picture her praying inside the church. Praying to that man in the picture.

Seizures. More seizures. I gave her a dose of Diazepam 1 ampule. Her level of consciousness was deteriorating fast. Advised for intubation. And just when I thought, how could the God she worshiped be so cruel, she finally expired.

And the world I knew suddenly turned upside down.

There's a song I always remember every time I hear the word Guardian Angel - Kermit's Rainbow Connection. Its sound's childish, I know, but a long time ago when I still believed in angels, I always thought angels lived in rainbows.

Why are there so many songs about rainbows? And what's on the other side.

It was then decided with that song in mind that my next pit stop towards finding meaning and touch was the toy giving mission among pediatric patients in Metro Manila.

Back then of course, I didn't understand Kermit when he said that rainbows are visions and only illusions. And I guess after biology, philosophy and my travels with nihilism and existentialism, I am proud to say that I still do not understand him.

Who says that every wish would be heard and answered when wished on a morning star?

So I concentrated on what can be understood and described in detail. Wishes. Dreams to a certain extent. And since we all wished for something when we were children, I concentrated on that longing for better toys and bigger G.I Joe's.

What I found was something that cannot be described - a child's smile.

I wished for so many things under the star every night. Better grades. Becoming taller and more good looking. Wishing that I will have my love returned. And although I never got them, I am grateful that for that brief Christmas moment, I made a child smile.

Someday I know, I'll find it - the rainbow connection. The lovers. The dreamers and me.