<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544</id><updated>2009-11-10T06:40:17.397-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scrubbed Out</title><subtitle type='html'>A blog about life in and outside medicine, experiences, joys, fears, laughter, tears, friends, and anything from what I think is a life, or something like it.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>70</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-2085250918581746915</id><published>2009-11-09T08:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T06:40:17.414-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To This Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SvhKWiytxGI/AAAAAAAAASk/i5nnTSdSz6c/s1600-h/9935_1257750367222_1333519417_30730846_2592987_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SvhKWiytxGI/AAAAAAAAASk/i5nnTSdSz6c/s320/9935_1257750367222_1333519417_30730846_2592987_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402149504188007522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gazed up sleepily into her eyes and she let out a small laugh as I cleared the cobwebs from my head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaaghh, I dozed off again, and she wasn't giving me a hard time about it. I was on duty last night and despite the malaise slowly overpowering my body, I urged myself to go out to a nearby coffee shop to get some reading done. Getting up, she said we'd better get a move on if we wanted to get home alive and not have me dozing off at the wheel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew better than to argue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While driving, flashes of the past few years go by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember seeing her coming up to class with books clutched close to her chest, the early morning sunlight streaking down her shoulder-length hair, and that ever familiar twinkle of her eyes. She gives me a smile and moves into their room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember hearing her humming softly and singing quietly in perfect tune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know of her quick wit as we shared a laugh over a joke no one else seemed to get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always admired her for being smarter than I am as she often appeared to effortlessly answer questions on exams that she would never openly admit on knowing the answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember her quiet understanding about the upsides and the downsides of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The flashes go by like the lamp lights outside the car window. She was quiet as we went home with sleep slowly setting in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this day, she is still the same smile that lifts my spirits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this day, she is still the laughter that picks me up when I am down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this day, she is the hand that reaches for me when I reach out for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this instance, she is the angel that wakes me up at this nearby coffee shop and kept me from being sprawled across the floor, passed out in exhaustion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this day, she saves me every waking moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-2085250918581746915?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/2085250918581746915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=2085250918581746915&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/2085250918581746915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/2085250918581746915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/11/to-this-day.html' title='To This Day'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SvhKWiytxGI/AAAAAAAAASk/i5nnTSdSz6c/s72-c/9935_1257750367222_1333519417_30730846_2592987_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-6110155902628886773</id><published>2009-10-30T23:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T19:33:39.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>525,600 minutes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SuzzHjk0CQI/AAAAAAAAASc/v1HJwrzBsTQ/s1600-h/DSC00243.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SuzzHjk0CQI/AAAAAAAAASc/v1HJwrzBsTQ/s320/DSC00243.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398957364444662018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year ago, I was a scared, excited newly sworn-in doctor who was curious about his decision to train in internal medicine and fresh from a year of a great PGI-ship in Silliman (hence the title of this entry, piano music in the background). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it has been one year. When they said time would fly by once you got into residency, they weren't kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm done with first year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I'd miss having a ward with my name on it (as well as my phone number plastered all over the walls), the incessant nurses who page me every time anything went wrong from simple spelling errors on orders and deciphering unintelligible handwriting to actual codes, as well as the daily grind, DTR's (direct-to-rooms) among a whole lot of first-year stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm moving on to subspecialties this year -- my first one is a personal favorite, neurology/endocrinology. I'll be going through a host of medical fields, cardio, gastro, nephro, you name it. Not to mention the added responsibilities of a second year medical resident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't forget extended time at the ER and ICU - the dreaded rotations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, I'll miss my surgery dreams but I'll still practice shadow stitching and knot tying when nobody is looking, and I'll miss out on earning more and living the life moonlighting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm on my own adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I started out, I didn't get how people get into internal medicine. Yes, some part of it appealed to me then -- diagnosis, patient interaction, being in charge -- but I didn't get the dynamics of the field, the medication interactions, the fluid management and a whole lot of other stuff I could fill in but I won't. Now I have an idea of how much understanding it takes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I fully understand it yet, but trying to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm one year in. Two more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two more and then the rest of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-6110155902628886773?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/6110155902628886773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=6110155902628886773&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/6110155902628886773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/6110155902628886773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/10/525600-minutes.html' title='525,600 minutes'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SuzzHjk0CQI/AAAAAAAAASc/v1HJwrzBsTQ/s72-c/DSC00243.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-5256874184758833870</id><published>2009-10-13T02:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T03:06:15.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My vote</title><content type='html'>Elections are fast approaching, and each candidate who is hoping for a shot at the glory of the presidency are out there, reaching out to people through media -- written, radio, and largely TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate traditional politics but I cannot deny its entertainment value. When election time comes, you can't help but get the latest fix of who is stacking up the most dirt against who -- from affairs and corruption to digging up old unpassed bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every election time, we renew the hope of reviving our country from traditional politics and the entrenched corruption, yet who do we have as candidates? The same breed of people who were running the country in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is why I've always been drawn to candidates who offer a reasonably radical change from the usual suspects, the usual program of change and the usual traditional politics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time I voted, it was for the late Raul Roco -- which was a good couple of years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I'll get to vote this year, with residency and all. But if I do get the chance, Noynoy will most likely be at the top of my list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think someone who is running that actually doesn't want to run qualifies as a good sign. Having someone who does not have a premeditated plan to grab the presidency is somewhat refreshing in this power-starved government.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether I change my current opinion and whether I actually get to vote remains to be seen. I challenge you to convince me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Conrado de Quiros said it best that Noynoy would probably be the only candidate among the rest where people will not mind being cheated on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's probably true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-5256874184758833870?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/5256874184758833870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=5256874184758833870&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/5256874184758833870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/5256874184758833870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-vote.html' title='My vote'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-5265064639507387706</id><published>2009-10-09T05:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T07:08:30.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deadlines</title><content type='html'>Definition: Days I dread because I have to have something on that day to show for an effort spread out over a given period of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the span of the next two weeks, I've had deadlines shoved in my face from a thick wad of census papers and evaluation forms, case reports, my first medical grand rounds, journal appraisals, and presentations for each one. I've driven myself crazy, sleepless over the past few days just to keep up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've caught a few breaks along the way -- a cancellation, being assigned to the Outpatient Department (though ER assist isn't really an easy rotation) and of course Tonette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all through the muck, I realized that it has almost been one full year of internal medicine residency under my belt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hopefully, hopefully, I'll move up a year level come November 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's one deadline I welcome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-5265064639507387706?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/5265064639507387706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=5265064639507387706&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/5265064639507387706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/5265064639507387706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/10/deadlines.html' title='Deadlines'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-3847627978288889253</id><published>2009-09-21T05:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T06:55:41.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deaths That Matter</title><content type='html'>There were a couple of deaths that mattered this past two weeks -- well, it probably did not matter to the rest of the world who did not know them but, they were intertwined and I was right in the middle of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my ward, I had this patient, Mrs N who was suffering from gallstone pancreatitis. She had a poor Ranson's Score on admission and on re-evaluation 48 hours after. Her abdomen was distended with fluid and she was starting to get a yellow tinge to her sclerae and skin. But she was a fighter and gave it all she had -- smiled through the air hunger because her diaphragm was being pushed upwards by the fluid in her abdomen, followed all the restrictions, and was an over-all good patient. A doctor could not have asked for more. Her husband was always there beside her, encouraging, making her laugh, and buying the expensive medications without question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over in the ward next to mine was another patient, Mrs R who just found out she had lung cancer and was suffering from malignant pleural effusion (fluid in the lungs) for which she had to undergo an insertion of a tube into her chest to drain out the fluid. Pneumonia was quickly setting in and the infection was overwhelming her defenses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, on one fateful day, their paths crossed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. N's condition worsened. She underwent an ERCP to remove the stone which was done without a hitch but a few days after that, she began to bleed. She vomited and put out blood, her blood counts were still high indicating an infection and her blood gas measurements showed severe acidosis (yup, that's bad). In the hopes of monitoring her better, her attending physician wanted her transferred into the ICU but she was number 8 on the priority list, which was not too soon enough for the attending. She told me to ask a favor from the one on top of the priority list -- Mrs. R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the time, Mrs R was morbid but stable. Her blood pressure had not dropped in two days. I spoke to her attending and to her and she gave me a smile, "It's okay doc, you can give my spot to her, she needs it more than I do." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you sure?" I asked again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes doc, it's ok. I feel fine at the moment. Maybe if, God forbid, I have problems, I'd like to ask the same favor from the other patients." she calmly said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I said my thank you's, and Mrs N was transferred into the ICU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, I learned that Mrs N gradually deteriorated and was intubated, and a combination of disseminated bleeding, severe infection, and shutting down of her kidneys were among the few problems she was facing and had to undergo dialysis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What made matters worse, was that Mrs R's BP fell. Her vital signs were unstable and infection was also taking over her system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was tried in vain to find a spot for Mrs. R to take so she could be moved into intensive care and I managed to move her up from number 8 up to number 4 and all the way to number 2, but, alas, they had no more money. Their lands had all been sold to keep up with the growing hospital costs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have the heart to face her again knowing I failed. I talked to my co-resident in charge of her ward and even found out, she had expressed the desire to be transferred into the ICU, but the family had decided on a DNR status knowing full well the prognosis of her condition and the financial situation they were in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She passed away the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Mrs. N was also losing her battle with her pancreatitis. The infection, the bleeding, the acidosis all took its toll on her body and she gave in and passed away the next day was well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before she passed away, as what I heard from the ICU staff, she pulled her husband to her side and said, "Thank you for loving me. Even up to my death, you're still here by my side. Thank you and I love you." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing that, I was awash with emotions -- sorrow, guilt, failure and then later admiration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Mrs R, thank you for showing me the meaning of what selflessness truly is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Mrs N, thank you for showing me the meaning of what loving and what never giving up and finally letting go should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've long posted that there will be many deaths on the roads we've taken, some harder to accept than others, some easier to let go, but what matters most is how we let it affect us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I close, I want to say, you mattered to me. You have affected my life in more ways than you know and I will carry the memories of these past few days with you as I go on treating patients and helping them through disease and in living my own life as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you. Rest in peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-3847627978288889253?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/3847627978288889253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=3847627978288889253&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/3847627978288889253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/3847627978288889253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/09/deaths-that-matter.html' title='Deaths That Matter'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-4615709839053615637</id><published>2009-08-30T01:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T05:45:14.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lessons Learned</title><content type='html'>Another month, another last minute last-day month post. At this rate, I'd be out of the blogging world in no time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, August has come and gone the miles of hallways I've walked while doing rounds have officially crashed my body's odometer. Yet despite a fever (of unknown origin) and a depressed immune system, I forge on (jeez, the dangers we go through to take care of others, and sometimes forget ourselves).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson number 1: Fate is twisted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've noticed that in a residency, there is always that certain consultant you mess up against. My co-resident Mush manages to get by with his slick hairdo and eyebrow-raising with most consultants, but goofs up against a certain cardiologist, who has corrected him several times from brand names to updates. Another co-resident Ian, drew the ire of a particular neurologist since I introduced him as a newly accepted resident, and since then he accidentally lost the signal of an important telephone call while updating him and he had vehemently emphasized they were not done talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my part, I seem to spaz out with a certain pulmonologist from seemingly being nervous on updates (I try to talk fast, so I finish fast, so forgive me for seeming out of breath), to not intubating a patient in distress (the patient's family had opted not to intubate the patient, and he was sleepy-slurred in giving instructions).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fate is truly twisted as much as it is wonderful sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson number 2: The beating you get in a conference or some Q and A, is inversely proportional to the amount of preparation you had for the said event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faced with an unexpected turn at presenting a case at our weekly ICU Conference (which IMO is a bit weird being we present and defend management that are entirely not of our own choosing), I chose yet another doozy of a cardio case of Digitalis Toxicity. I wasn't ready having just prepared the slides the day before with Tonette. So basically, cramming was the only option. And that I did, thankfully, I managed to study the right stuff, and came up with some original facts for everybody to digest. (Hah! Hyperkalemia is protective for DigTox! But up to what level, I really don't know).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson number 3: Sleep when you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss going back to sleep when waking up in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vow to write more. But with the upcoming deadlines, aaggghhh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case reports, census (censi or censuses?), ECG's to read, books to read, reports...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;September 30 it is. Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;=========================================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations to Stephanie for passing the boards!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-4615709839053615637?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/4615709839053615637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=4615709839053615637&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/4615709839053615637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/4615709839053615637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/08/lessons-learned.html' title='Lessons Learned'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-7174725782595256752</id><published>2009-07-22T05:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T09:11:11.321-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's to July...</title><content type='html'>I can't believe I haven't posted for July yet. Not a single post -- until this one and on the last day of month at that (don't get fooled by the date)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a busy, busy, BUSY month for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Doctors have this end of the month thingy called a Mortality and Morbidity Conference where we discuss all of the bad cases and deaths and see where we could have been a bit better to save this patient or that, but mostly really just nitpicking at diagnoses and theoretical/diagnostic dilemmas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the task of presenting that particular case. Oh and what a doozy of a case it was. They say it was a pretty hard case to present -- loaded with cardiology with a dash of infectious disease and nephrology -- and I got roasted at the podium. I was sweating in a fully airconditioned room trying to answer questions from mundane basics to intra-operative cardiac surgery! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good news, I got through it without them telling me I failed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad news, I have to do it again in a couple of months. Aaaagggghhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mentor once told me that a back-breaking residency is necessary to getting better in the chosen fields of medicine you want to specialize in (you still haven't told me why Doc Ness....hahaha).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I can understand the back-breaking part, the physical willingness to do all the legwork to get a few more tidbits of knowledge here and there, and I've always gone the extra mile to get that, but the veiled insults and sarcasm, the stereotyped first impressions, I don't see that helping me any.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I Love You, Man&lt;/em&gt; is a funny, funny movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine seeing a teenager with a double outlet right ventricle and so much future in front of him, undergo a total correction of his congenital anomaly and walk out of the hospital on his own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Small victories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have to contend with Christie telling us she's not coming back after her scheduled vacation leave. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meant when I said to her that, if she's better now than when she first came in to this residency, then no one can take it away from her. She's all the better for it. If she stops now, then no one can blame her, because that's a decision she'll have to make for herself. But &lt;em&gt;Ate Christie&lt;/em&gt;, no consultant, no senior, no person, nor animal can talk down to you and make you feel any less than what you think you are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We -- Mush, Len, Ian, Jeff, Gladys, moi -- think the world of you and would love to have you come back, not only because it would mean one more to share this load we have on our shoulders, but more importantly, you are our glue. You keep us together and for just that, we'd love to have you grace us with your crazy, zany humor on August 8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love just gets you through the day -- sometimes you realize it, sometimes you don't. But when you have someone who lets you sleep when you've gone the past 36 hours without it, or helps you with work, well you just can't go too long before you realize how great it is, to have someone love you back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thanks hon.&lt;/em&gt; I wouldn't have survived July without 'cha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-7174725782595256752?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/7174725782595256752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=7174725782595256752&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/7174725782595256752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/7174725782595256752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/07/heres-to-july.html' title='Here&apos;s to July...'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-7936018642165884861</id><published>2009-06-28T07:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T08:29:14.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We Will Remember</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ey_fowOcRxA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ey_fowOcRxA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I join the world in mourning as we lay rest to Michael Jackson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still vaguely remember, I was 8 years old running through our living room and my dad's stereo was blasting "Off The Wall" and "Wanna Be Startin' Something." We all had our favorite Michael Jackson song -- "Man in the Mirror" and "Human Nature" comes to mind -- mine will always be "Rock With You."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His death makes me feel, among other things, old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His death renews my fear and my strength in my mortality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can only hope to be remembered once we pass, and Michael Jackson will live on in his music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Michael, you made all of us who heard your music moonwalk together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-7936018642165884861?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/7936018642165884861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=7936018642165884861&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/7936018642165884861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/7936018642165884861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/06/bye-michael.html' title='We Will Remember'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-2259728821472256389</id><published>2009-06-25T04:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T09:08:54.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Through the Day</title><content type='html'>One of the best things about being in medicine is that I get to meet people -- some I get to like and even get to be friends with, while some I just can't stand to see the sight of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I arrive around 6:45 am and get off the elevator, I enter the ward rooms I give a smile to Lolo G who is finally going home after spending nearly a month in the hospital. Their family is pretty remarkable as they've pulled together to get Lolo G through obstruction, intussusception surgery, post-op stroke and hypokalemia, to finally going home. They aren't the richest patients, but as people they are just as wealthy as most people. They've never grumbled about the costs, or the treatments, but trusted us to do the best thing. Now I'm just happy to see Lolo G smiling, toothless as he is, as his wife and daughters share a laugh around him. We go through a hundred wars with disease, dilemmas, and treatment failures, but I'll take them all on to have even just one victory such as this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave to go on with my rounds, I see Mr D's family. Their outlook is not as good. His disease is an intracerebral tumor bleed and with alcoholic liver cirrhosis, makes it impossible to operate on, not counting the money they don't have for the surgery. The hemorrhage, plus the encephalopathy has gradually taken over his consciousness and is slowly bringing him to the brink. I look at his mom, every so often tears flowing down her face at her beloved youngest son, and pleads to me to help her. My heart breaks knowing full well the prognosis. I give her a "hang-in-there" smile and move on. Mr D would pass away that night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each patient has his or her own story, his or her own life, and happenstance has made me a part of theirs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just amazed at this job sometimes -- I guess, it's just me realizing all over again, I love what I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times that I just feel really really tired, burdened by responsibilities and the demands that the residency program and the profession brings, but at the end of the day, when I get the chance to lie down and sleep, I realize, I wouldn't have it any other way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-2259728821472256389?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/2259728821472256389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=2259728821472256389&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/2259728821472256389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/2259728821472256389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/06/getting-through-day.html' title='Getting Through the Day'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-9157665396348694739</id><published>2009-06-07T05:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T07:35:50.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sabbatical Recall</title><content type='html'>Today is the last day of my 1 week vacation leave -- a week where I didn't have a life in my hands, nor did I have to call and update any consultants on the condition and lab results of their patients -- and it nearly isn't enough to recharge the past 7 months of toil, sweat, and tears, and to come back and do it again for the next couple of months. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's definitely better than nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My co-resident Mushar has his leave planned out already (though he did take a one-day "leave" to contemplate his life plans last month) and it consisted doing utterly nothing on the first day but a DVD marathon, the next day would be touring his hometown, the third would be a visit to the beach, and you get the picture -- relaxation and nothing remotely related to medicine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm a different animal, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;June 1&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a plane home, which was probably the more cost-effective way to travel, but there is always something relaxing, something spiritual with a long and quiet drive home. But after the reverie of Erving's wedding the day before (my heartfelt happiness and joy to Erving and Kay), I did not have time to prepare, so the plane it was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I settled into my room, and brought out my reading stuff (yup, part of my idea of a vacation is doing some work without the pressure), and did what I sought most of the week to do...sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I did mostly that, and watch a little bit of TV now and then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;June 2&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frequently checked with all the blogs I follow, and it seemed everybody was taking the week off as well, except for Doc Ness of course. I attempted several times to write but nothing really came to mind (I failed in the attempt to make up for all my unblogging times by blogging everyday during this week), so I just let it go, content to browse the web for news and sports rumors about my beloved Pistons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to starting on reading about my case, a supposedly rare case of Thrombotic Thrombocytopenic Purpura (everybody I've mentioned this to seem to be of the opinion that this isn't as rare as I thought it was, but well, it's incidence is 3.7 per million, I'd say that definitely isn't run-of-the-mill). I got to see SUMC again, and see a couple of friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw Kea as well, and she's pretty big now. We went to &lt;em&gt;Manong&lt;/em&gt; Roy's &lt;em&gt;despidida&lt;/em&gt; party, as he's finally off to Canada to join &lt;em&gt;Manang &lt;/em&gt;Rhea as immigrants. See you guys when you come home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;June 3&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smoke tested the right car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pored over the charts of my case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Transferred some notes into my trusty notebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rode the afternoon away on the motorcycle -- gassed it up to a full tank and took a quarter off just riding around the city. It is another way to get a tan in Dumaguete without going to the beach. Sadly, Taster's (Home of the world's BEST BURGERS) is closed temporarily for renovations, as is much of the city's asphalt roads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;June 4&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing like wind in your hair zipping through the city streets on the motorcycle. Couldn't find Ver or check if Aning was really pregnant na. Congratulations.(Though I've been hearing she is, she vehemently denies it. Nothing wrong with that Ann.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ai-ai arrived today. I missed my little sister (hehe, she's big time now)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;June 5&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Magic got dumped on in Game 1. I've always rooted for the underdog, except when the Pistons are playing, but 25 points? In the NBA Finals? Jeez, c'mon Howard you can bowl over Bynum and Gasol on your off-days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jassen and Carol arrived. She's a cool girl, and I'm happy for my brother. Anybody who makes my brother happy is all right by me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the family got together to pray, and celebrate all of our birthdays. I saw my nieces and nephews running around all night, and the food was as sumptuous as always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be leaving in the morning. I have Tonette's Date and Walnut cake, Sans Rival for the people at the hospital, and Pianono and Chicharon all around (I think they ate the Pianono at the time of this writing na, Mama Gaya, next time na lang).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;June 6&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in Cebu. I got to ride on the extension all the way to Cebu and my back ached all over. Got some work done on my census, and took Tonette out to dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The week is almost over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;June 7&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last day of freedom. I did my rounds of my ward and saw what kind of patients I'd be up against once I sign my name into the attendance logbook tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed quite a bit on the rumor that went around the hospital that I'm quitting residency (don't tempt me, haha), and was touched that a couple of friends (yup, brothers and sisters in arms, if you will) would call you up (wake me up, for that matter) and asked me to stay. Sorry if I played around a bit, but I'm stuck with you guys for the next couple of years, (or you are stuck with me, deal with it), that is until the next time I go on leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Right now&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My back still hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'm still on the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost to the Hornets while playing NBA 2K9.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'd better get a good night's sleep so I can get up early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The week was definitely good while it lasted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-9157665396348694739?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/9157665396348694739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=9157665396348694739&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/9157665396348694739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/9157665396348694739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/06/sabbatical-recall.html' title='Sabbatical Recall'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-5348795727321253092</id><published>2009-05-21T01:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T10:58:26.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On The Lighter Side...</title><content type='html'>In my last conversation with my mom, she said she got scared while reading my last entry, (somebody has to do it, ma) but she also said she had a laugh at the juicy fruit comment. Whoever says that being an ER doctor or any doctor for that matter is a cool, profitable, and easy job, is dead wrong. It often comes to the point of arduous toil, and yeah sure you get some money out of it but not often commensurate to the effort unless you get a really really big practice and it is a big responsibility to have another 's life in your hands, yada yada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've posted so much about medicine, residency on this blog, I guess I'd like to turn the attention of you who read this blog (however few you guys are, hahaha), to something, well, light... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/ShUSqbDwj1I/AAAAAAAAASE/bnVp6EvgHwU/s1600-h/090520-archie-hmed-8a.hmedium.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 255px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/ShUSqbDwj1I/AAAAAAAAASE/bnVp6EvgHwU/s320/090520-archie-hmed-8a.hmedium.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338193453344919378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Archie finally gets to choose!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between Betty and Veronica that is. Yup, we all read the strips once or twice, and personally I'm a fan. I read in an article linked on msn.com that publishers are gonna make him choose between girl-next-door Betty Cooper and sophisticated-sassy Veronica Lodge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say he really can't go wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how about:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/ShWUIKgiO6I/AAAAAAAAASM/MWJZ8zSa8e0/s1600-h/idol53_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 173px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/ShWUIKgiO6I/AAAAAAAAASM/MWJZ8zSa8e0/s320/idol53_500.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338335801298271138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;This guy.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Kris Allen pulls off the ultimate idol upset by upending apparent favorite Adam Lambert for the American Idol crown. Not to take anything away from the cool laid-back sound of Allen whose stylings I can definitely agree with, but I'm thinking there were a whole lot of people who didn't want Adam Lambert to win, than actually voting wholeheartedly for the eventual winner. Personally, I liked Danny Gokey's voice and got to appreciate the sound of Allison Iraheta's voice, but Allen's victory definitely sits well with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/ShWWEM_YXtI/AAAAAAAAASU/WoOkjtyCH4s/s1600-h/sleep.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 294px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/ShWWEM_YXtI/AAAAAAAAASU/WoOkjtyCH4s/s320/sleep.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338337932268297938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Good night!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-5348795727321253092?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/5348795727321253092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=5348795727321253092&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/5348795727321253092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/5348795727321253092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/05/on-lighter-side.html' title='On The Lighter Side...'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/ShUSqbDwj1I/AAAAAAAAASE/bnVp6EvgHwU/s72-c/090520-archie-hmed-8a.hmedium.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-2730904397577660913</id><published>2009-05-11T04:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T10:26:42.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ER Forays of A Newbie</title><content type='html'>Our training program here has one quirk not found in other hospitals in Cebu (or so I think) -- first year residents get to go on duty at the Emergency Room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup, First Year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason given to us was that it would double our exposure to ER duties, and we get to see more cases, and get experience on how to handle these patients first-hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get the logic, but that doesn't make the anxiety of being alone at the desk fronting the Emergency Room doors any less stressful. It takes triple the testicular fortitude to survive and conquer the fear of what comes in through those two swinging doors. So scared am I on nights prior to ER duty that I fear and depression drives me to my knees in prayer that everything would go smoothly (but it rarely does) and that He will be with me every step, order, and IV insertion of the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing for sure though, ER duties certainly have given me so many moments:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WORST: There was one time when, the outpatient consults were endless into the wee hours of the morning and right up to endorsement time, and after I got received (the next shift comes in) I literally had to run from room to room, ward to ward, get all my X-rays and scans, ECG's to get ready for endorsement (grilling time), and needless to say, I got fried to a crisp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEST: Just recently, at my last ER duty, we had someone come in, in severe respiratory distress. He was brought to the hospital by two of his neighbors after they found him knocking on their door for help, all blue and air hungry. We didn't know what he had because of a really poor medical background given to us, all the neighbors knew was that he smoked and drank a lot, was admitted the year before and a handful of medications in his bag. It was a cross between respiratory and cardiac, which is which we didn't know. He flatlined for about 5 mins. We treated him as best we could and revived him to full consciousness. To see him writing his name on a piece of paper, considering he was probably walking towards whatever light at the end of the tunnel he was in, is joy immeasurable to me. Now he has a second chance to be able to make peace with a family he has left behind, and that is just gravy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FUNNY: An order on a referred patient's chart: "May eat juicy fruit - not the gum."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SCARY: There was a time where I had no activity at the ER whatsoever for the whole afternoon of a weekend duty, the calm before the storm if you will. Then it got crazy as first an arrested patient came in, probably a massive heart attack, followed in seconds by an electrocuted patient in ventricular fibrillation (a really scary heart rhythm). Needless to say again, everybody got plenty of action and exercise that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DRAINING: You get to take on really demanding patients from expats who think they deserve top billing because they earn dollars for a living to aristocrats and the psychologically-off patients who think they are the only ones in the ER. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COOL: I once said that if I could not become a surgeon, I'd be the one at the foot of the bed manning a code, shouting lines like "We need an ABG stat," "Start Dopamine 400/250 at 10 cc/Hr," or "This ECG shows an ST Elevation in Leads II, III and AVF, Morphine 2 mg now, O2 at 2 Lpm, ISDN drip at 10 cc/Hr, and Aspirin now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm getting to do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe not as confident, not as fluid nor as collected as I make it to be, but I'm definitely working on getting there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been so long since I last posted that I'll be going on another ER duty in the next couple of days, so, gulp, here we go again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-2730904397577660913?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/2730904397577660913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=2730904397577660913&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/2730904397577660913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/2730904397577660913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/05/er-forays-of-newbie.html' title='ER Forays of A Newbie'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-621051044582587954</id><published>2009-04-11T05:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T05:54:04.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lull of Lent</title><content type='html'>Cebu is surprisingly quiet for Lent -- that is compared to the regular hustle and bustle of the regular work week. I still remember celebrating the Holy Week in Dumaguete and recall the near empty streets, the processions, and the one of the few days of the year, or if not the only day, where we don't open up shop at the market to sell meat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came from duty on Maundy Thursday and we were on skeletal duty (to the nonmedical people, meaning only those on duty would be roaming the hospital). After endorsement, I was on my way home, and I the lesser-than-usual number of taxis and jeepneys driving around, the malls were closed and the quiet was a nice change from the honking and the revving of engines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent most of the day sleeping, enjoying the peace and the sedative effects of the mid-afternoon breeze and went to say a few words of thanks at the church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Friday was even more serene and beautiful and I took time to breathe in the freshest air I've ever inhaled since I've been in Cebu. I took the time to do some long overdue cleaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was always the best thing about the Holy Week -- the peace, the quiet, the time for reflections, and in the same way I've always ended it, a prayer of thanks for Him who came and saved me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course gave me a schedule where I could enjoy two skeletal duties in a row.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In connection, a couple of my posts that I remember having fun making or just simply made my day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2008/03/who-wants-to-be-superhero.html"&gt;Who Wants To Be A Superhero?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2008/05/some-good-things.html"&gt;Some Good Things&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2008/07/pedestal-for-mellie.html"&gt;A Pedestal For Mellie&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2008/07/its-little-bit.html"&gt;It's A Little Bit...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.&lt;a href="http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2008/09/piano-by-starlight.html"&gt; Piano By Starlight&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;a href="http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2008/10/batch-1-set.html"&gt;The Years Gone By&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;a href="http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2008/11/death-becomes-you.html"&gt;Death Becomes You&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;a href="http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2008/12/in-sickness-and-in-health.html"&gt;In Sickness and In Health&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;a href="http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/04/behind-half-rimmed-specs.html"&gt;Behind the Half-Rimmed Specs&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-621051044582587954?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/621051044582587954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=621051044582587954&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/621051044582587954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/621051044582587954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/04/lull-of-lent.html' title='The Lull of Lent'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-3766436834574892469</id><published>2009-04-05T03:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T13:50:23.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Behind the Half-Rimmed Specs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SdvPkvSIQ7I/AAAAAAAAAR8/yhkxgCvFjQI/s1600-h/TBR+logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 127px; height: 74px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SdvPkvSIQ7I/AAAAAAAAAR8/yhkxgCvFjQI/s320/TBR+logo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322075614743118770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh, introspection. Where does one begin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lying down in my quaint rented bedroom, staring at the dirty-white paint on my ceiling, I paused to think how to write this next entry. As sleep slowly drifted and took away my conscious perception of the night, I took off my glasses and just stared into the blur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two sides to my life at the moment, the one that exists and the one that exists in my head. The basics are out there -- Dumaguete City, Physical Therapy and on through medicine, though I never knew exactly why and how I came to be the doctor I am today and residency is the imposing and prevailing presence in my life at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blink and pause to think about what I could do had I not chosen this path. I still love to lose myself in music and song as I float my fingers over a piano, or find solace and freedom in the lyrics I can make with a simple melody. Or had I worked hard enough, could I have played a sport for a living? Or anything remotely related to sports? How about movies? Me and showbiz...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blink again and realize, I'm drifting off into slumber. Well, I guess while I'll do medicine, I'd do all those other stuff on the side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reflecting on the day that has passed, I still remember the mortalities that mattered, the mistakes and the right decisions, the days where I was too tired to think and the good days where going into a patient's room and giving good or bad news came easy. There those really depressing days where I'm tempted to stop and rest and those days where I feel really good that I did something right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I twist in bed and accidentally roll over onto my glasses and I quickly remove it from under my shoulder and place it on my side-table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These glasses don't hide a Superman, but I'd love to be a mild-mannered doctor and leap tall buildings in a single bound as well. I'd be the Philippines' alternative hero to Manny Pacquiao. I'd stop bad guys left and right, arrest corrupt officials, get rich, save lives, be someone, and the whole world will remember me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I wake up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stare into the streaming sunlight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to work again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe tonight I'll dream another dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take a bath, stuff all my books and clothes in a bag, take my glasses from the table and got ready to go though another day. Oh the joy...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-3766436834574892469?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/3766436834574892469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=3766436834574892469&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/3766436834574892469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/3766436834574892469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/04/behind-half-rimmed-specs.html' title='Behind the Half-Rimmed Specs'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SdvPkvSIQ7I/AAAAAAAAAR8/yhkxgCvFjQI/s72-c/TBR+logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-3542011995436844449</id><published>2009-03-16T17:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T18:36:00.341-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Medicines Are Funny Funny Things...</title><content type='html'>I am a really funny doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the time, while I'm giving prescriptions to my patients, I find myself asking if the medications I'm actually giving really do work. I wouldn't go as far as saying I doubt every medication I dole out, but I find myself skeptical most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take for instance, cough medications. I've given my share of cough medications over the years I've had in medicine from internship to residency, and none of them seems to really stop the cough. Mucolytics, expectorants, antitussives, antihistamines ugghh, they seem to just not do the job. So, if asked what medication I'd want to give to patients having cough, on instinct, I'd say water. After all it still is the best mucolytic, in my opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's different if you know the problem, say TB or Pneumonia, for which we can treat the cause of the problem. Antibiotics are great drugs. But again, there are stuff to consider like resistance, the bacteria you're up against on whether they're wearing Amoxicillin shields or Cephalosporin-proof vests. So you end up with just a grand old time figuring out what to give until the sensitivity testing comes out, that is if there are discs to use or microbes that grow on the cultures. Which is why most doctors start out with really broad spectrum antibiotics nowadays and work it down once the testing comes out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neuroprotective agents for strokes? Hmmm, skeptical, though theoretically sound.&lt;br /&gt;Appetite stimulants? Nothing more appetizing than a well-cooked and seasoned meal.&lt;br /&gt;Vitamins? A good diet is still the way to go, in my opinion. Vitamins will not save your liver if you keep on drinking alcohol or your lung if you keep on smoking. Most people think all they need are vitamins, asking for them left and right, and I make a face, but when all that's said and done, what they need is a healthy lifestyle, a healthy diet, a good dose of exercise and proper hygiene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, I'm not trashing medications nor am I trashing my own profession. I love my job (though it's been often described as having a degree in knowing nothing) as we often get to save lives provided we get the right medications to the patient. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there are drugs I believe in, after all, I'm still in Internal Medicine, say adenosine. I marvel and I hold my breath at the same time while watching that long, long, really long pause on the scope and gradual return to sinus after a supraventricular tachycardia. There are others like beta-blockers, epinephrine, norepinephrine, and a host of emergency drugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There still is good old Paracetamol, which when combined with a properly done tepid sponge bath brings down any fever in a matter of minutes. The nebulizations are pretty dramatic as well. Cardiac-wise, warfarin and aspirin have been pillars of the medical arsenal for a very very long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Medicines are really funny things. Some work. Some don't. Some you just can't see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's why doctors are around to figure stuff out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we ever do. Hehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-3542011995436844449?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/3542011995436844449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=3542011995436844449&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/3542011995436844449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/3542011995436844449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/03/medicines-are-funny-funny-things.html' title='Medicines Are Funny Funny Things...'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-6267136560097696144</id><published>2009-03-15T04:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T05:49:52.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kaleidoscope World</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/Sbz5ZoS1M7I/AAAAAAAAAR0/hsrtWmRX_xA/s1600-h/DSC00941.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 244px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/Sbz5ZoS1M7I/AAAAAAAAAR0/hsrtWmRX_xA/s320/DSC00941.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313395879098790834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Francis M passed away last week, I didn't think I'd be that affected, given that I never knew the guy, I didn't avidly follow his music nor did I patronize his clothing line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when news of his death broke out on the news, I could not help but feel the loss being shared by the members of the entertainment industry. It was more than just another showbiz personality passing away -- definitely, more than just that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well to me, Francis M played a big role in MY generation. Sure, we all did the dance to "Man from Manila" and "Mga Kababayan" way back in grade school. Some of my classmates even went as far as to imitate his clothing choices. At that time, he made rap cool. He was Philippine rap, hence his showbiz-imposed coronation as the king of Philippine rap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I most remembered about him during the days when I'd be playing marbles beneath the calachuchi tree in my grade school or sweating in the midday sun playing basketball with my worn Grosby rubber shoes or whether I'd just be sipping my Hi-C Orange drink in one hand and a 5-peso bag of spicy hot peanuts in the other, was that he championed the Filipino. And for that, I'd always feel connected to him in some way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I grew older, in my opinion, so did his music. I grew to like his Rap is FrancisM album and particularly liked "Meron Akong Ano" and the Royal Tru Orange jingle "Ito ang Gusto Ko."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But his masterpiece, in my opinion, had to be "Kaleidoscope World." It became an anthem for peace, equality, pride and a host of other things and it helps that it has great melody to groove along to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew with Francis M. That is why in his passing, I can't help but be sad, not just because we've lost a pioneer in our entertainment industry, nor is it because I feel my age with his death, but it's more because my generation has lost an icon that championed Filipino pride, music and equality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest in peace FM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truly, Every color, every hue&lt;br /&gt;       Is represented by me and you&lt;br /&gt;       Take a slide in the slope&lt;br /&gt;       Take a look in the kaleidoscope&lt;br /&gt;       Spin it 'round, make it twirl&lt;br /&gt;       In this kaleidoscope world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A FreeMan with &lt;a href="http://francismagalona.multiply.com"&gt;A Free Mind&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-6267136560097696144?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/6267136560097696144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=6267136560097696144&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/6267136560097696144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/6267136560097696144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/03/kaleidoscope-world.html' title='Kaleidoscope World'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/Sbz5ZoS1M7I/AAAAAAAAAR0/hsrtWmRX_xA/s72-c/DSC00941.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-2057774840550681811</id><published>2009-02-23T14:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T15:29:38.514-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching Up</title><content type='html'>It's been a while since I faced the blogger screen and typed my thoughts away, but now that I have my own connection, (woohoo!) I'm looking to do it more often, not as often as Doc Ness does, but once in a while, as opposed to never. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Residency is all I've had on my plate since starting almost 4 months ago, and it is pretty evident that it's about all that's happening in my life because all my latest blogs are about it. I have to admit, that there are times when it's really hard to get up in the morning and letting go of 5 precious minutes of sleepytime and get dressed for work. But it has not come to the point where I hate going to work, so forge on we shall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random thoughts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. We began residency 4 months ago with initially 4 doctors. Of the first 4, one quit. The next 4 came in last January, 2 quit (after 1 24 hr duty! arrghh). It's hard to lose a co-worker, sort of a brother/sister-in-arms if you will, who came in with the same purpose as you did, and cover for the same person's workload after he/she is gone. But now, we are at full strength again, and hopefully we make it through together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Residency has become survival of the fleetest (fastest walkers get labs first, and do the appropriate intervention and finish their rounds first). When I slow down, literally, from my regular walking pace, my fellow residents whizz past me. Everybody walks fast. Well, it helps that I take big steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I did not know Dr Madamba personally, but I knew him as one of the institutions of pediatric practice in Dumaguete City, and even had 1 check-up with him when I was a kid when my pediatrician was out of town. For him to go in the manner that he did (he was shot, for those who did not know) is a tragedy and I hope the perpetrators get brought to justice. Not only does the city lose its only allergologist albeit in pediatric practice, it loses one good doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I sit here with the Eraserheads reunion concert CD on the player (thanks hon), and they still sound good. Some good things never do last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Slumdog Millionaire wins Best Picture! Truly, one of the best films of the year. If you haven't seen it, you should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Congratulations to old friends and classmates who passed the boards -- Jeanette, Laurje, Jouie, Rainier, Ver, Chiong, Pura, Dinkoy, Siao, Nevi and all those who took the February 2009 boards. Welcome to the club. With your license comes great....you know the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I'd like to apologize to Nevi, Cindy, Baby Boi, Carrie the other day. They passed by the ER and I was busy as heck with a full house and I wasn't able to chat. Uhm, my mood was less than pleasing during that time, but I think I managed a smile in between writing orders. Congrats guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to catch up on some sleep, err, work with today being a skeletal holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh the simple joys...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-2057774840550681811?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/2057774840550681811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=2057774840550681811&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/2057774840550681811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/2057774840550681811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/02/catching-up.html' title='Catching Up'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-3142150253680586890</id><published>2009-02-08T04:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T05:09:52.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tales from the Residency Dark Side</title><content type='html'>I had my first complaint this week. Or at least I think it was for me. And I don't think it was deserved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a patient the other day, something like a 29 year old female complaining of chest discomfort, squeezing in character associated with shortness of breath. I saw her a bit later in the afternoon and came into the OPD with an ECG in hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nada, sinus rhythm, non specific ST and T wave changes (for lay speak, perfectly ok).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the interview, I found out she has had this complaint fairly recently, she recently took the bar and was awaiting the results, and the night prior, she got into an argument with his brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No history of heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes, and the like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretty much came up with an anxiety reaction or a hyperventilation syndrome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, sure, it still could have been something more severe like a heart attack and the like but practicing here in the Philippines have forced doctors to sharpen their clinical skills and all the years of internships (though not much yet) told me that this was nothing like that. I could never, in my right mind, order for stress testing, angiograms or even cardiac enzymes for a clinical setting like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I proceeded into what was like a 15-minute discussion of her symptoms, explained that her ECG was ok, and advised her to come back should she have any further problems. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her if she had any questions, and she told me she was fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, while at the ER, the nurse received a call from the insurance coordinator relaying a complaint that someone consulting for chest pain the day before was not properly diagnosed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pretty certain it was her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody can't be pleased. Would she have rather welcomed the news that she had coronary blockage rather than an acute stress reaction? And after spending the time I did to explain to her and her boyfriend, the nature of her reaction, I get that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'll take that, 1 undeserved complaint in 4 months from a well-attended patient, that's a pretty good rate, I'd say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe some people just have a funny way of saying thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-3142150253680586890?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/3142150253680586890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=3142150253680586890&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/3142150253680586890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/3142150253680586890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/02/tales-from-residency-dark-side.html' title='Tales from the Residency Dark Side'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-4249330292364376184</id><published>2009-02-01T03:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T03:50:02.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Small Blessings</title><content type='html'>I think we've all received this text message:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little birdie in the sky&lt;br /&gt;Dropped a poopoo in my eye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then something like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I thank the Lord, that cows don't fly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get the message, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't help but remember this message as residency life goes on for me (gasp, going 4 months of Internal Medicine, who would have thunk it?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went on rounds with one of my consultants the other day and came to a really well-off patient in the suite room on my floor. While doing the usual check-up -- BP, physical examination, pulse rate, a random scan of the labs and ECG -- the usual chit chat came to discuss his many medical problems and previous hospitalizations. He had Coronary Artery Disease (fancy medical term for heart blood vessel blockage), hypertension, Diabetes Mellitus and had underwent bypass grafting, percutaneous transluminal angioplasty, and a pacemaker insertion all in the last 8 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He casually chuckled and said that he had too many problems and it was all because of how old he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My consultant shared a laugh and said, "Well, you have lived a full life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My patient said, "Well, you know, life is like money, you can never have enough of it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There it was, the lesson for the day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, this statement was coming from a guy who owned companies (plural) and had loads of money, but he longed for more days to his life as well. It helps that you have money to spend during those additional days too, but what caught me was how simple a thought it all boiled down to: You can never have enough of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I was brought back to how I measured my own life -- the sleepless nights, the endless reports and assignments, the proddings from our superiors, the way we drag ourselves out of bed EVERY morning -- and stopped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized, I didn't have to look at it that way. I'll try my darndest to look at the small blessings -- the extra hour of sleep I get for finishing work early, sharing a cup of coffee, studying with the beautiful woman reading &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;William's Obstetrics&lt;/span&gt; across from me, helping people get well, the mystery and allure of diagnosis that got me into IM in the first place -- the small blessings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's true, you can never get enough of life. One would want to suck it's marrow for how many days we are given. But the funny thing about it is that we don't have that expiration date stamped across our foreheads, so even though how much likening the need for life to money, it isn't measured with the latter, it's measured in blessings -- the blessings of how we lived it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thank God for the small blessings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for yet another day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to do rounds again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-4249330292364376184?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/4249330292364376184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=4249330292364376184&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/4249330292364376184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/4249330292364376184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/02/small-blessings.html' title='Small Blessings'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-2983940217034815834</id><published>2009-01-17T19:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T21:32:29.769-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tinseltown Gets Scrubbed Out</title><content type='html'>Ahh, don't you just love the movies?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From my earliest recollection of going to the movies with my family, and the Betamax tapes stacked up in the corner of our bedroom when I was a kid, to the new-fangled special-effects laden movies and pirated torrents of today, I've always seen the imagination and cinema of movies as my refuge from reality along with books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is why I love the movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To narrow down 10 of the top movies of all time would be, difficult, in every sense of the word. I've seen too many movies, and loved most of them, hated some, laughed with and cried from, and each of them cleaves a place for itself in my wildly imaginative psyche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, like most of those submitting entries for this TBR, one has to try. And so Scrubbed Out's Top 10 movies are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. &lt;em&gt;The American President &lt;/em&gt;- I happen to have the biggest crush on Annette Bening, but, I love this movie because it gives us a glimpse of how love works, even for the most powerful man in the world and it's just funny seeing a president find time to date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;em&gt;Indiana Jones / The Goonies&lt;/em&gt; - Hidden treasure, adventures, and good times with good friends. What's not to love? I used to imagine myself riding a horse with a Fedora on my head and using my whip to swing over a crevasse of snakes and alligators, and finding a hidden pirate ship with loads of gold bullions and jewels beneath our house. Now, I don't think of those things as often as before, but the thoughts do cross my mind. I wonder what's under my apartment? Hmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;em&gt;The Count of Monte Cristo&lt;/em&gt; - Betrayal, revenge, intrigue. So much weaved into the storyline and I loved how Jim Caviezel played Edmund Dantes in this movie --cool and calculating. Don't you just love it when the good guy who goes through heck get his due in the end?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;em&gt;A Knight's Tale&lt;/em&gt; - For the witty dialogue and the rags to riches story of a squire-turned-knight. It's a perfect blend of comedy, action, drama, romance and good music. I like how seamless the movie transitioned into modern and medieval times with great and fun performances from the late Heath Ledger as William. See ending line of #8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. E.T. - A score for imagination. Who doesn't love what ET brought to our world? I mean, aside from Drew Barrymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Braveheart - I loved this movie so much the first time I saw it that I was trying to speak Irish for a week. But I eventually gave up, but watched the movie again, and again, and again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Shakespeare In Love - Yes, this movie stars Gwyneth Paltrow, but I don't like her as much as Annette Bening, haha. I think the movie is beautifully made and rightfully won the Oscar for that year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Love, Actually - Great great movie. And well, this movie holds more meaning than just the actual movie for me. But several love stories being told, intertwined beautifully into one story involving among other people, the Prime Minister of England, his secretary, two porn stars, divorcees, a widower and his housemaid, in a story you just have to see to love. Oh Keira Knightley is in this movie too! Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Mr Holland's Opus - I love music -- and music with movies are a plus. Here Richard Dreyfuss plays a music teacher who has, as a goal in life, to compose the perfect symphony, and keeps putting it off to teach and make an impact on the lives of his students. He is a music teacher with a deaf son and goes to war against the educational system that cuts art programs in school. He ends up retiring without his symphony but realizes that his each student became the notes of his real legacy and in the end, a fitting tribute as his students render him his completed masterpiece. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Hook - You have to love Spielberg's imagination in this movie. That Peter Pan grows up and goes back to Neverland and to save his kids, he has to find that Peter Pan again. Now why couldn't I think of a storyline like that? More than just the story, the fun, and the general makeup of the movie, this is the last movie that I can recall that I watched with my mom, dad, brother and sister at the local movie house in Dumaguete. And THAT is why it tops my list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honorable mentions are the sports movies I love to watch: Tin Cup, The Mighty Ducks, Major League, The Replacements, Rad and all those wacky, funny, inspiring, heartbreaking sports movies, I can't get enough of them from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure I've left out some movie I love somewhere, but as of now this is the top 10 list I'm going with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooh, Underworld is coming up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SXK2Oi--3HI/AAAAAAAAARk/eNCnvk8maLY/s1600-h/TBR+logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 127px; height: 74px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SXK2Oi--3HI/AAAAAAAAARk/eNCnvk8maLY/s320/TBR+logo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292492873139149938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-2983940217034815834?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/2983940217034815834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=2983940217034815834&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/2983940217034815834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/2983940217034815834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2009/01/tinseltown-gets-scrubbed-out.html' title='Tinseltown Gets Scrubbed Out'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SXK2Oi--3HI/AAAAAAAAARk/eNCnvk8maLY/s72-c/TBR+logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-5014953802060392619</id><published>2008-12-23T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T00:06:38.120-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scroogey</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SVHrgBWAokI/AAAAAAAAARM/fy_iUU6_TiM/s1600-h/TBR+logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 127px; height: 74px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SVHrgBWAokI/AAAAAAAAARM/fy_iUU6_TiM/s320/TBR+logo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283262773231395394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeez, people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Christmas Eve and it just so happens I am in one of those jobs who Bah-Humbug's all the major holidays of the year, simply because diseases do not have holidays. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could that massive stroke wait 'til tomorrow please? Couldn't your asthma have waited just a few more hours? Or maybe you could have scheduled that family dinner next week so that your gastroenteritis wouldn't disrupt my family dinner?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bah! Humbug!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what if people are nicer during Decembers? So what if the cold weather makes you want to stay in bed in the mornings? So what if it's time to spend with people who are close to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parties? Schedule disruptions.&lt;br /&gt;Exchange gifts? Added costs.&lt;br /&gt;Bonuses? Work during holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to boot, I'll be on duty on the 25th of December. At the ER. Uggghh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bah! Humbug!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SVHpugN4zaI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/7z_mf6AJ3PM/s1600-h/1978-toon-past.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SVHpugN4zaI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/7z_mf6AJ3PM/s320/1978-toon-past.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283260823013739938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;CHRISTMAS PAST&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmases at home when I was a kid were always a family thing. Yeah, yeah, I had my share of gifts. But the time spent for those Christmas Eve parties with my mom. dad, brother and sister with all the cousins and the whole clan, was a blast. I'd get excited as soon as Christmas vacation started and I'd get ready for the whole shebang. I knew there would be games, and trivia, and singing and dancing. And I wanted to win everything. And the food was good and there were plenty to go around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Singing, drinking, and laughter filled the night as we waited for midnight to strike and wish each other a Merry Christmas. We'd go to midnight mass and the choir would sing like angels and we'd be right there singing right along with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only were the family parties a blast, but Santa would come along and drop by with some gifts as well! Who knew the guy actually existed?! My brother and I would get that Nintendo Family Computer or Playstation we wanted, my sister would get new dolls and other toys she liked, and our parents right there smiling with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the next morning, we'd get to sleep in from the reverie the night before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now those were Christmases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;CHRISTMAS PRESENT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SVHpgm3n9AI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/jML9Bpsjysg/s1600-h/1962-magoo-present.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SVHpgm3n9AI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/jML9Bpsjysg/s320/1962-magoo-present.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283260584281240578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have entered the whole new world of residency training. And in most hospitals, our work knows no holidays. Yeah sure we get skeletal duties (where those not on duty don't have to come to the hospital) but so often have I been the one on duty on those days that I've forgotten how it feels NOT to come to the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The parties are still there, but with new faces -- a new family, if I may. Surely they can't take the place of siblings and parents, but they are people who share with me the same special day -- people who, like me get to work on these days when the rest of the world is taking a break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gifts aren't as grand, but with more meaning. The singing isn't as orchestrated but more boisterous. The dancing is more zany than actual choreography. But the fun is still there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reunions and classmate gatherings goodbye. I just don't have the time. Christmas shopping? I hate it because I'd have to fight off two dozen people for a shirt and get in line for 2 hours to pay for a book I found in 15 minutes. The hassle is simply not worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah sure, admitted patients go home as much as possible around these days, but those that are left are those patients we really need to keep an eye on -- patients who could possibly die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that brings me back to reality. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;CHRISTMAS FUTURE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SVHqNT9J46I/AAAAAAAAARE/Azbva2h_Duc/s1600-h/gtv1-08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SVHqNT9J46I/AAAAAAAAARE/Azbva2h_Duc/s320/gtv1-08.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283261352298275746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dream of a Christmas where family, friends, and happiness are all around me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, Dickens had that morbid Christmas future where Scrooge gets buried without anybody going to his funeral, but this is MY Christmas Carol and not Dickens'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being with people you care about and love unconditionally is simply the best way to spend Christmas for me. Those days will come -- days where I will watch the smiles on my own kids' faces as they get their gifts from under that Christmas tree in the living room and run around with their new toys, getting hugs and smiles from my parents as they get their second serving of spaghetti, seeing my brother's and sister's families gather for gift-giving and sharing stories, and watch my wife's face glow as she puts on that simple but elegant necklace I got her -- days that will make Christmases worth waiting 11 months for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we'd go to Christmas mass and sing with the choir, thanking Him whose birth we celebrate, for a day in the year where everybody are truly who they are meant to be -- people that care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;RIGHT NOW&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SVHslijAhxI/AAAAAAAAARU/GFxnMsWlkvQ/s1600-h/1121740_christmas_gifts_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 289px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SVHslijAhxI/AAAAAAAAARU/GFxnMsWlkvQ/s320/1121740_christmas_gifts_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283263967555258130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the blog spirits of Christmas past, present and future have brought me back to this keyboard and cubicle in this small internet shop beneath CIM, I've realized I've had a lot of Christmases to be thankful for, as I'm thankful for the Christmas I have this year, and for all the Christmases to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've gotten this much-needed skeletal duty day off from Santa and I'm sure he's probably halfway to Brazil by now, and I spent it sleeping in, walking around the mall, and seeing Tonett at work. Simply put, doing nothing and being a bum. Yup, that's what I asked for Christmas, a break -- a day to be a bum, haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be going on duty tomorrow, and I don't know what it holds for me. Yup, I'll be scared as heck at that ER desk, but I'd be in the company of people who are less scared or just as scared, and in that it's a better thing than spending Christmas day alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I ask myself, why can't people care like this all year long? Is it that difficult to be nice for 525,600 minutes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And until that time comes, I'll take that one time in the year when everything glows a little bit brighter, when people care a little bit more for others than themselves, when everything is about giving rather than receiving, and, in this sometimes Scrooged mind, everything is how it is really meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas to one and all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SVHs4uICcyI/AAAAAAAAARc/sRloPr4havA/s1600-h/1121188_christmas_time.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SVHs4uICcyI/AAAAAAAAARc/sRloPr4havA/s320/1121188_christmas_time.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283264297080877858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-5014953802060392619?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/5014953802060392619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=5014953802060392619&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/5014953802060392619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/5014953802060392619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2008/12/scroogey.html' title='Scroogey'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uMwETG03_pA/SVHrgBWAokI/AAAAAAAAARM/fy_iUU6_TiM/s72-c/TBR+logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-3978037072069870431</id><published>2008-12-18T04:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T15:52:47.367-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's that time of the year</title><content type='html'>I know Christmas is coming but what I did not realize until a few hours ago is that it is just barely 6 days away. No, it is not my first Christmas away from home. In fact, I'm pretty much used to it now. But with this thing called residency training, I haven't really delved into the whole spirit of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How didn't I notice?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are nicer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exchange gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our seniors asking us less questions and offering more suggestions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesser frowns on people I meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cool breeze wafting through my curtains in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People talking about bundles of joy and bonuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How come I did see it until today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, I'm more preoccupied with adjusting to this whole residency thing. Following up laboratories, not killing people, getting ready for endorsements and actually learning as much as I can before I get another crack at the ER are what mostly occupies my mind during the waking hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just hospital-home-sleep and repeat-the-next-day for me right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, an occasional movie and Tonett break that cycle but, as doctors, trainees, and residents, we all live life every three days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I'm nearing my second month of residency and being that time of the year, I'd like to offer some nuggets of wisdom for surviving two months in a residency program:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Make your seniors look good. Even if you end up looking ridiculously dumb. But if you are not ridiculously dumb, you'd find a way to make both of you look good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Get a good history. There's just no substitute for a good clinical history and physical exam. Even if you don't know what the heck your patient is suffering from, I'm pretty sure you'd get killed in endorsements with a poor history and end up with something if you bring all your cards to the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Endorsements and morning reports are not easy things. Get ready for them and plan them in your mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Some allied medical professionals (nurses, PT's, OT's, etc) could be your best friends in the ward, helping you with patients and ward work. But a good portion of them can be the bane of your existence at times from reading too much into a simple order to not actually giving the medicines you needed to give or not referring nada to you at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Move fast. Sweat. Look toxic. Look busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Survive. Just take it an hour at a time. You'll be previous the next day, preduty after that, then repeat the cycle again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Pray. Pray a lot. It helps if you have Him on your side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the day of Christmas draws near, I bid you all a Merry Christmas with trimmings of red, green and gold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere in the middle of Cebu on the 25th of December, I will be on duty, at the ER, no less. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's definitely that time of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-3978037072069870431?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/3978037072069870431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=3978037072069870431&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/3978037072069870431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/3978037072069870431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-that-time-of-year.html' title='It&apos;s that time of the year'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-4260134854390727647</id><published>2008-12-03T03:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T11:54:01.081-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In Sickness and in Health</title><content type='html'>Now that I'm a month into my residency torture err, training, there is a dearth of topics to blog about. But somehow, you always find something that will make you write and share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two people whom I have come to admire these past few days and they aren't consultants, seniors nor doctors for that matter. They are ordinary, everyday, SO's (significant others) of patient's admitted here at the hospital. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have given me a perspective of how "in sickness and in health" is supposed to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, Mr. Tomas (not his real name, of course). His wife was diagnosed with Gastric CA since 2003 and underwent resection and chemotherapy. She was admitted for anorexia (loss of appetite) and body malaise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was everything you'd notice of a cancer patient -- bald, weak, pale. She had bruises all over that I could not explain because everything was normal save for the fact that she had cancer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, she suddenly started screaming at the roof, praying and was restless despite the sedatives I gave her. I've noticed that patients who suddenly start seeing stuff and screaming out Bible phrases have a tendency to start heading towards that proverbial white light at the end of the tunnel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was brain mets. CT scan negative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was encephalopathy. Nada. Nil. Zilch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was going off duty, I walked by Mr Tomas outside their room. I stopped and talked to him for a few minutes and I talked to him about where we stood with treating his wife, and anybody could see the toll of taking care of his wife on his face. His hair was a bit mussed up, eyes bloodshot and teary, unshaven and worry crinkles on his brow. He was standing outside as his two sons tried to calm their mom down inside their room. He thanked me for whatever explanation or insight I could give, mustered a smile and I bid him good night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night, his wife was transferred to the ICU because of a probable seizure disorder probably with the cancer spreading to parts of the brain not easily visible on scans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only imagine what he is feeling right now. Because as corny as it sounds, one could see how much he cared by looking into those teary, bloodshot eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other person is Mrs Cecilia (again not her name). I admitted her husband for the complaint of unresponsiveness and probable severe pneumonia and a stroke. They barely scraped by with money for admission, intubation and a CT scan, and let alone the mounting expenses for antibiotics, heart medicines and the ventilator to the point that she had approached me for a DNR. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insensitive as I was at that time, I was quietly comforted knowing she would be signing that sheet of paper that would relieve everyone of us on duty that day, of any responsibility. I almost even groaned when the attending discouraged her from doing so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm thankful I realized I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I monitored everything about the patient that whole day -- his vitals, his sats, his weaning, his IV's -- she was always there beside him. I could tell she loved him even from the time she came up to me and tears trickled down her cheeks asking for that piece of paper. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave her a smile every time I came. She smiles back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was assigned to another ward at the start of the month, but still I see her from time to time walking in the hallways, bringing a bottle or two of IV fluid. I asked from my co-residents how her husband was doing only to find out they have not been procuring the IV antibiotics and some meds. Sometimes they have money, sometimes they don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But love, in sickness and in health, they have an abundance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to love like they do is how love is supposed to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-4260134854390727647?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/4260134854390727647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=4260134854390727647&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/4260134854390727647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/4260134854390727647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2008/12/in-sickness-and-in-health.html' title='In Sickness and in Health'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-6277673450359454365</id><published>2008-11-24T04:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T05:15:00.498-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pay, Check</title><content type='html'>I got my first taste of a monthly salary last 20th of November and though I've never been given that kind of money in one setting, it felt like it wasn't enough for all the stuff I've been through. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized, I can't hope to have a life and raise a family on this salary. Nor can I hope to help my parents, pay my rent, and other stuff we use money for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I offered to buy my dad and sister dinner, but my dad said I'd better save it for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha, I laugh silently because my brother and my sister earn much more than I do and I've been in school the longest. The return of investment in medicine really is not much. I'd be lucky to even break even in giving back to my parents what they've spent on my education.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such is the state of this young medical doctor today -- wishing I have a cushy (by my standards) job like Gaya's, earning more by moonlighting like Chofi and Benjo, or simply being able to bum around rich like the Mittals and Bill Gates of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say it's bad to keep and save your first salary. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not know if there is truth in that or it's something people make up to get a gullible co-worker to shell out for a round of beers and pizza, but I did get some stuff for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Went out with Tonett for dinner&lt;br /&gt;- Treated my Ward 2C station to pizzas because one of my DNR patients went home, albeit HAMA, alive.&lt;br /&gt;- Bought a pair of sandals&lt;br /&gt;- Bought some groceries (I, as much as possible, will not use my mom's extension credit card)&lt;br /&gt;- Saving the rest for stuff like a house, a car, land and whatnot (Hahaha, well, I have to start somewhere)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be going on duty again tomorrow. Gaaaaahhhhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our chief, Dr. Roa, says we will be flying solo next month at the ER -- that would mean facing acute coronary syndromes, hypertensive emergencies, endocrinologic emergencies, COPD exacerbations, cardiac dysrrhythmias ALL ON OUR OWN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uggghh, I'm dreading next month's paycheck already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-6277673450359454365?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/6277673450359454365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=6277673450359454365&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/6277673450359454365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/6277673450359454365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2008/11/pay-check.html' title='Pay, Check'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127924394391783544.post-8903280533787994729</id><published>2008-11-12T05:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T05:32:11.261-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crossed My Mind</title><content type='html'>It's been a while since I last wrote and a couple of things have crossed my mind since then. I've finished nearly two weeks of residency and well, I'm already stressed out as heck, my calves are aching from tiptoeing through the hospital halls everyday, not wanting to make a mistake, and getting grilled during endorsement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gaya says it's masochism with a purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some thoughts that have crossed my mind have been:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Mostly DEPRESSING. I've been thinking about how tired I've been these past two weeks. Still the first two weeks of a three-year residency and still a loooong way to go. It's not going to be a cakewalk through all the consultants' uhm "lectures" and "constructive criticism." Haha, but I'll take them as such. Hopefully I make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Sometimes FUNNY. Do you guys realize that karaoke or videoke is fun only when all of you who get a shot at the microphone, suck at it? I mean you go out with friends, some drunk, some sober, sing a couple of songs, and here comes someone with Beyonce vocal cords and sings the song right on key, it just defeats the purpose of videoke. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. At one time INCREDULOUS. Did you know that over 400 doctors a year in the United States die of suicide? And a couple thousand more suffer from some sort of depression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Of MOURNING. My uncle Bobby passed away last week. Despite asking nearly all of my aunts, I still don't know his disease. Rest in peace, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Tiyo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. PUZZLING. Why did the Pistons trade Chauncey Billups, Antonio McDyess, Cheikh Samb for Allen Iverson? That was before I realized that Rasheed Wallace and Iverson's contracts are up after this season. And we have tons of cap space to sign at least two max contract players! Woohoo. Imagine...a starting lineup of Rodney at PG, Rip Hamilton at SG, Lebron James at SF, Amir Johnson at PF, and Chris Bosh at Center. With a bench of Arron Afflalo, Tayshaun Prince, Walter Sharpe among others. YEAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Right now SLEEPY. I'm going home now to sleep. Zzzzz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3127924394391783544-8903280533787994729?l=bricalz.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/feeds/8903280533787994729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3127924394391783544&amp;postID=8903280533787994729&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/8903280533787994729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3127924394391783544/posts/default/8903280533787994729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bricalz.blogspot.com/2008/11/crossed-my-mind.html' title='Crossed My Mind'/><author><name>bricalz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12445397806998587672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17872618325493361465'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>