Year-End Graduation and Closing Remarks

After taking a break from volunteer teaching for 2 years, I went back to it last January at a Filipino-owned learning center as a Nursing Assistant instructor. And so far, I have produced 3 batches of graduates this year. It felt good to serve the Filipino community this way, plus I always wanted to be in the academe (I was a school nurse/educator before in PH).

It makes me both proud and a bit stressed (but in a good way as in Eustress) because I finally have to let go of my students into the world and wherever life takes them. Graduations are always emotional because many of my students are housekeepers and nannies who want a better life and opportunities. And I have witnessed their sacrifices and even met them halfway (giving them exams in cafes or extending classes, etc.) to support them in their journey. Yes, mother hen me’s heart is full.

Me and 2 of my graduates

We held the commencement exercises at the lovely Abu Dhabi Country Club on December 11th – a joint ceremony between 2 sister schools. Now, somebody volunteered my name to give the closing remarks. Even though I was informed of this two weeks before the graduation, I only drafted my speech two days before the event. It’s not a good habit, but my brain was designed to work best with constant pressure since high school.

I was a bit surprised at the rapt attention I received while delivering that speech. Because let’s face it when it’s time for the closing remarks, people are already antsy to take photos on the stage with their friends or busy craning their necks at the buffet table offerings. But yeah, they were all ears and it made me happy – my Karak Chai-fueled writing was worthwhile.

Anyhow, here is my closing speech for the said event:

To our school directors, our distinguished guests, esteemed colleagues, families, and friends, and to our dear graduates, a pleasant afternoon.

Today is a significant day for our graduates and their families because it marks the culmination of their hard work and dedication. Despite the challenges, you faced in the duration of your studies, such as juggling work while memorizing concepts and steps in procedures, missing sessions because of sudden work schedule changes, or even financial matters. You still managed to finish your courses – some on time, some a few weeks delayed. But here you are, dressed in your academic gowns and receiving the fruits of your labor – your completion diplomas and special awards. I am immensely pleased to tell you that we are all proud of your achievements.

I, together with my fellow instructors, wish to thank you for your eagerness to learn as shown by your efforts. Give yourselves a round of applause. Likewise, for demonstrating camaraderie towards teachers, management, and amongst yourselves. The wonderful memories we’ve made together in the months you’ve spent with us will surely remain in our hearts even after leaving the walls of our institutes.

Our school does its best to equip you with not only the required knowledge and skills but most importantly the right attitude. For those who took up courses to start anew in another country be it in the UK, Finland, Canada, or wherever in the world it may be; or restart their careers by forging a different path, do know that it won’t be easy and there will be obstacles along the way. But don’t fret, don’t be discouraged, just hold true to your vision, to your purpose, to your ‘whys’. And regardless of your religion, never forget to seek Divine guidance when weathering the storm. After all, there is always light at the end of the tunnel. Just have faith.

We would also like to thank all our instructors for their fervent commitment to helping our students become better, if not the best in their studies. Your enthusiasm and selflessness have inspired our learners to also persevere. You are instrumental in producing the graduates of today. May we keep the fire burning as we continue to teach, touch and transform more lives.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank all the people behind today’s successful event – to all the committees involved in the preparation of the program – our guest speakers, our emcee, the coordinators, the technical team, and everyone, your hard work is greatly appreciated.

Cliché as this sounds, this commencement exercise is not an end but just a stepping stone in the realization of your dreams. We hope that you will become good ambassadors of our school and will not allow selfish interests to tarnish your integrity. Always choose to be kind to the people you will encounter as you pursue your careers or chosen fields.

And so, on behalf of (insert learning center names), we wish you well in your future endeavors, and may the odds be ever in your favor! Thank you very much!

Holiday Drunkenness and What to do When You or Somebody Starts Vomiting

It’s party season again!

It’s the most wonderful time of the year where all the good food, music, people, and booze are overflowing! Though alcoholic drinks liven up the party, too much can actually do the opposite.

As a nurse, I’ve functioned as a caregiver during certain events where people go over their alcohol limit and make a mess – figuratively and literally. So here are some tips I can give you from the perspective of a healthcare worker and as someone who’d been there done that:

1.) When you start feeling nauseous, try to position yourself comfortably (preferably over the toilet or sink for easy clean-up) so you can vomit as needed. Don’t stop yourself from vomiting because you may end up choking. Let nature take its course.

2.) Get hydrated after vomiting, if still conscious, frequently with water or fluids with electrolyte content such as Pocari sweat or non-caffeinated sports drinks. You can also make an Oral Rehydration Solution (ORS) with 1 liter of clean water, 6 teaspoons sugar, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Take frequent sips instead of gulping down a glass. Staying hydrated will also help lessen if not avoid a bad hangover in the morning.

3.) When somebody is throwing up, JUST LET THEM BE. Don’t talk or touch them unnecessarily. The body can become ultra-sensitive at the peak of intoxication, and touching or speaking can add more stress to the person. Ensure their safety as well as their privacy (and dignity – don’t take videos or photos of them like that!).

4.) When the person passes out, help them recline comfortably with head turned to the side, or put them on their side to prevent vomit aspiration. Keep them warm with a small blanket or a jacket draped over them.

5.) Observe closely if further medical attention is needed by the person. Alcohol poisoning is a serious deadly condition that happens when large amounts of alcohol are consumed in a short span of time. Check if they have trouble breathing, seizures, or don’t respond to any attempts to wake them, then call for help ASAP!

6.) Do rest the following day. Listen to, and respect your body.

7.) Keep in mind that you don’t need to binge on alcohol to have fun. Especially when you’re no longer that young (and you have a bunch of medications to be mindful of)! Getting drunk is not cool, it makes the night a disaster for everybody else. As you sip on a glass or two, just remember that your gift of presence is what really matters.

Happy holidays and stay safe everyone! Cheers!

Hope Blooms: Marc the OR Miracle Baby

Photo by Jorna Itum-Torremoro

While cleaning up and sorting my external hard drive, I saw one photo of me way back in nursing school wearing an OR scrub suit for a case completion duty. I love that special area despite the strict protocols and expected high precision, along with the blood and smells. I also enjoyed Operating Room case completion because it allows me to enhance my practical skills with lesser pressure since it’s not graded. Plus it’s more fun when assigned in the same clinical group with your buddies!

It was halfway in one of those completion duties when I got paired with my college bestie Marc – a vivacious summa cum laude material – with him as a scrub nurse and me his circulating. We were both thrilled since it’s the first case we’d be working on together. Then the NOD notified us that a case was called in, so I went to the assigned OR theatre to prepare together with her. A few minutes later, the patient came in the OR – a middle-aged lady for Cesarean Section. My Clinical Instructor knew that this would be my 10th CS case, so she was pretty confident I can do the necessary preparations without her breathing down my neck.

Well, nothing prepared me when I took off the blanket draping the patient’s lower half and saw two tiny arms sticking out of her vagina. Before I could say anything, I just saw the small fingers twitch slightly. Wide-eyed, I turned to my CI but she assured me that it was just a reflex and that the baby is long dead. After all, the baby was stuck in that position for four (4) hours now so the chances of survival are zero. I looked at my patient, she was too weak to say anything and was half-asleep. I felt heartbroken seeing her situation but was also apprehensive. I know what I saw, and I just had this strong feeling that maybe this baby was still alive somehow. But the NOD came over and with finality said, “He’s dead, and it’s one of those days you get these sad cases. You’ll get used to it.” That was harsh but a reality of this profession. I also found out in the endorsement notes that during assessment in the ER, no heartbeat was heard via Doppler hence the baby was declared deceased.

Minutes later, the operation started and it’s the first CS I’ve assisted that was so solemn even the boisterous OB-Gyne who performed the procedure was unusually quiet except for giving instructions. She took the little one out of the uterus and said “baby out” while she laid him gently on the mother’s torso. Almost automatically, I went a little closer to the OR table to see this little angel gone too soon. Clasping my hand in silent prayer, I looked at him and to everyone’s surprise, his limbs twitched, and he croaked in an attempt to breathe. We were all stunned and looked at each other like “OHEMGEE!!! He’s alive!!!” The anesthesiologist immediately yelled out “PEDIA! PEDIA! WE NEED PEDIA!” that sent the Circulating NOD out of the theatre then came back with the pediatrician in tow, who scooped up the baby swiftly and went to the adjacent OR theatre to care for the newborn.

Joy and hope flooded the somber room that the OB-Gyne cried out excitedly to the mother, “Ma’am, buhi imong baby!!! (Ma’am, your baby is alive!!!)”.

I was a little teary-eyed as we had this celebration of life. I looked at our patient as her eyes filled with tears of joy. Then the doctor asked her,

“Ma’am lalaki imong baby, unsay imong ipangalan? (Ma’am, you have a baby boy, what would you name him?”.

I guess it was the overwhelming feeling of happiness mixed with anesthesia that she just smiled back at us wordlessly. Then our CI loudly said to the mother,

“Ma’am, gusto ka ug Marc? (Ma’am, do you like Marc?)”, the patient nodded happily.

The usually chatty Marc was speechless too. Well, he just went on a rollercoaster ride of emotions being the scrub nurse, who not only has to deal with the pressures of the procedure but also of the unexpected turn of events. When he heard that the baby will be named after him, he let out a laugh as the doctor told him “Oh, may miracle baby ka na! Swerte yan! (You now have a miracle baby! That’s lucky!)”

It was truly a memorable case for all of us as the procedure went well and ended in a cheery mood. We were all glad to hear from the pediatrician that the baby was okay and miraculously survived such an ordeal.

Looking back on that duty, I could say it’s one of the testaments to God’s will. If it’s meant to be, it will be as they say. I don’t know what became of baby Marc after that, yet I do think that he is destined for something great. Although I know very well that a case like his is rare, I couldn’t help but affirm my belief that hope blooms even when things may seem dire.

If Life is so Short: Musings from an ER Encounter

Earlier, while playing music randomly on YouTube, I heard Music Travel Love’s cover of The Moffat’s hit “If Life is So Short”. And I couldn’t help myself but pause and think back to that time in college when the reality of life’s fragility hit me hard.

Each moment that passes is time lost.

In 2006, I was in my third year in nursing school when I had my clinical exposure at the Emergency Room of Davao Regional Hospital (now renamed as Davao Regional Medical Center). As a public hospital, it’s no wonder how extremely bustling it is and the various ailments encountered than in private healthcare institutions. On an afternoon shift (3 PM – 11 PM), our group was divided into four pairs and assigned to different areas of the ER, and we will then be rotated to other areas after two hours until we finished the shift. I was assigned with a male classmate at the Medicine area, which honestly I dread a little inside because it’s always swamped with patients with diseases that may or may not be contagious.

Late in the afternoon, I was assigned to look after an elderly man who was rushed to the hospital due to shortness of breath and body weakness. A tall man yet emaciated and a little pale, with eyes closed while rubbing his chest with every shallow breath he took. As per practice, I established rapport with him and took his vital signs for an initial assessment. Based on his verbalized complaint and observation upon admission, the nurse-on-duty asked me to perform an ECG procedure on the patient and put the ECG strip on his desk for resident-on-duty to see it. After doing the procedure, I attached the strip on the patient’s chart, which the NOD glanced over then went to check the other patients.

I went back to my patient to talk and ask him if he needed anything at that time. Before he could speak further, he suddenly started coughing violently, and as it ceased, I saw streaks of blood mixed with his saliva dripping on the side of his mouth. Seeing it, I quickly got a tissue paper from my pocket and wiped it away. As I did so, he gave me a thankful look. I can only give him a smile behind my face mask and touched his hand reassuringly. I asked him again if he needed anything, but he just closed his eyes and leaned back on the stretcher. I quickly reported the coughing fit right away to the NOD but he just nodded. I know it can be quite frustrating when you’re a family member and seeing it happen, but given the nurse-patient ratio back home, it can be hard to attend to all the patients right away.

No matter how trivial it may be, don’t take things for granted because as we Cebuanos say it: Walay pagmahay na mauna.

Little did I know that when I turned my back to do that report, he had a cardiac arrest so the hospital staff immediately rushed him to be revived at the Crisis Intervention Unit (CIU) along with my male partner. Left alone, I felt shocked by the incident but I have to mentally slap myself and focus back on the other patients left in my care. And the next thing I know, the ROD came out of the CIU and brought out the news that my patient passed away.

It felt so surreal because it was the first time a patient of mine died during my shift. Disbelief washed over me since I just spoke to that man and even cared for him a while ago, and now he was gone! Before I could even grasp the whole thing, I got rotated to another area (OB-Gyne), and the postmortem care of my patient was done by my classmate instead. I carried on the rest of my duty as if the incident earlier didn’t happen. I even went home feeling beat up from moving around patients and performing nursing procedures and then just slept on soundly that night, another day in the hospital.

When it was due to submit clinical rotation papers, I finally had the time to write and reflect on that day. It was that time when I finally had time to process how I felt about it and accept the fact that life is indeed short and fragile which can be gone in a snap. Although it was just a brief encounter with that patient, the lesson he taught me will last a lifetime. I learned from that experience to live life as if it’s my last…

to grab opportunities, savor happenings, and simply being alive at present.

to readily apologize to those I’ve offended and forgive those people who hurt me.

to show my love for people I care about every single day.

He taught me that all we have is here and now, that tomorrow is never guaranteed to be ours. And that whatever we can accomplish today, we have to do the best we can, not next time.

Amidst this pandemic, hearing the late 90’s hit song coupled with the memory of my patient’s encounter, their message resonated and become more relevant than ever. With everything so unpredictable… like I’ve lost loved ones, friends, and acquaintances to COVID-19 unexpectedly, I think we should all be more vocal and overt in expressing our love for others. Tell your loved ones ‘I love you’ frequently and loudly, spend time with them whenever you can – even a phone or video call can be precious because you can never tell if it’s going to be the last time you’ll hear that voice.

No matter how trivial it may be, don’t take things for granted because as we Cebuanos say it: “Walay pagmahay na mauna.” (No regret ever comes first).

Even Nurses Get to be the Patient

I was just discharged from the hospital yesterday and here I am recounting my flurry of experiences that landed me two hospital days, two intravenous insertions, and two thousand something pesos excess on hospital bill. It was way back 2006 when I got hospitalized so it gets a lot of getting used to staying put and acting like a patient.  

My past 3 weeks was a frenzy of dizzying workload be it physically or mentally speaking. The preparation for the school accreditation, the project paper for my masters, and the domestic life seems to be more tiresome than expected. And being born with a built-in feature of exhibiting physical symptoms of stress after the stressful event is over, it made me confident to juggle such gargantuan tasks. So last January 31, I embarked on an early van going to Davao City to see my mentor for the first time and present what I have done for the past two months. My mentor swiftly went through my paper in a matter of 5 minutes or so and gave her list of revisions to be done for the paper. After almost an hour of uneventful meeting with her, I quickly went to the mall next to the school and had my brunch at Sim’s (the breaded pork chop was heavenly but remind me to skip the buko-pandan dessert next time). Then I hurriedly rode a van going home.

Now I have nothing against people eating while travelling but it simply pisses me off when they eat strong-smelling stuff in air-conditioned spaces. My stressed-out brain and sleep deprived carcass can’t take anymore torment. I couldn’t help myself but feel nauseous and having the urge to throw up every say…3 minutes. Before I could reach the bus stop near home, I alit at Joysh’s humble abode in fear that my control reflexes would go caput and I’d end up barfing my brunch on the driver’s neck.

Once inside their home, I recounted my days of torment and torture then dozed off. When consciousness crept back at me, I felt a weird chilly sensation that I remarked to Joysh that I’m feeling rather cold. She retorted while pouring me her special iced tea that it’s raining little furry animals outside. Unconvinced, I bugged her to get me a thermometer – yes, when you’re a nurse and you feel weird you quickly reach for the thermometer and the BP apparatus. The prickly cold feeling is getting intense by the minute and it felt as if a thousand dancing bears were trampling my head. The mercury operated thermometer read 39.6 degrees Celsius – suffering cod fish! No wonder I’m now feeling like a zombie! Joysh simply chuckled and handed me a pill to keep the fever down, but my body is looking for the comfort of my bed so I hauled myself out of their house and hailed a tricycle home.

The moment I got inside the room it only took me a few seconds to peel off my clothing and jumped in my pajamas. I quickly dove under the covers and lost consciousness again for how long I have no idea. I was pleasantly enjoying my dream wherein Bae Yong Joon is cooking rice porridge and was about to spoon-feed me when my mother’s voiced sliced through my consciousness, I woke with a jolt and Yun-sama disappeared as the lights turned on in my room. I dragged myself to the kitchen and forced my esophagus to swallow a few spoonful of rice. It was a difficult feat not that my throat hurts but because the food tasted like cardboard. Despite the fact that my mom made a wonderful Kare-kare mouth-watering beyond words, my taste buds were futile this time.

I gobbled another Paracetamol and went back to horizontalness. Tick tock tick tock… the relief I was expecting isn’t kicking in and the next moment I checked myself with the thermometer, lo! It read 40.8 degrees Celsius! I said to myself that I need to swallow my pride and let the medical people take care of me (though I’m beginning to feel guilty already as I have the tendency to be bitchy when I’m sick).

Around 10 in the evening, my folks accompanied me to the Emergency Room of my former training ground. When the doctor’s orders were done, I found out the nurses carrying them out were my batch mates during hospital volunteer days. Good thing Nurse Glenn skewered my arm perfectly and got my IV on in a snap. Next  I was wheeled into my room at the Ambassador’s Wing, feeling like VIP only I got this pesky fever and my head is drooping like a humongous watermelon that I couldn’t appreciate this thought. Again as people saw me going to the ward, throngs of acquaintances and friends were ogling and asking what the heck happened to me. Good thing my mother was there as my press secretary to answer their questions and my dad was there as my bouncer to let me through.

As I got inside the room and my stuff settled in, my folks quickly turned the Cable TV on and went channel surfing…yes, ladies and gentlemen… they are getting comfy already. After almost an hour they decided my brother Supy will be staying with me for the night and left.

Finally peace on earth… but not for long as Supy entered the room, he too lunged at the TV remote and told me to play dead until morning. Now I believe the only reason why they’re keen in confining me to the hospital is to:

1. Have watch-all-you-can Cable programs without them paying, and
2. As my mother would put it succinctly, “I don’t like taking care of sick people, there’s the hospital, let them do it.”

February 2, 2010