Falling Apart

This past December, I had a cold. It was pretty bad, but I got through it, and probably got other people at work sick as well (way to spread the love). This January, I had another bout of cold, but it lasted for about 2 days. Hurray for the immune system. This past Thursday, I had a sore throat that eventually felt like a cold, what with all the aches and pains and headaches and stuff it brought along. Then just when I thought I was getting over that, the weekend brought in a scratchy throat, sneezing, dry coughing, and stuffy nose. Dry air or allergies? Ugh.
I'm falling apart at the seams.
Pity me.
::cough, cough::

My Masochistic Valentine

So I haven't been to the dentist for over a year now, not because I choose not to go, even tho everybody knows exactly how much I enjoy going to the dentist, but because for a while, I didn't have health insurance. When I did, however (thank you SBHCS), I kinda forgot about going. Silly me. Fast forward to last week. I make an appointment to go see Dr. T., my wonderful teeth specialist. Wouldn't ya know it, the earliest appointment I could get was none other than Feb. 14, valentines day. Not that I had big plans, mind you, but still, going to the dentist on such a day somehow does not make for a very wonderful hallmark memory. So, this morning, I trudged out to the driveway, and for 15 minutes, proceeded to scrape, chisel, and thaw my frozen car out of this miserable arctic blast. When I finally left, I realized that I was late for my appointment. Super. Having forgotten my cell, I could not phone the office to tell them I was running behind. I certainly wasn't planning on speeding, although I was quite tempted, despite the slick road conditions. I figured, no dentist's appointment is worth getting my ass in a wreck. Sure enough, I pass by 3 accidents on the way. 2 spinouts and one pickup that lost control and ran straight into the woods. Hopefully everyone involved was ok.

The dentist's office. Luckily, the 10am spot cancelled so I was ok. Dr. T. did his usual schtick, cleaning, x rays, flossing and prodding (dear God, the prodding). I so hate that torture device that more or less resembles a hook/pick on a handle...you know, the one they use to scrape out your gumline (or right below it) and poke right through in between the spaces of your teeth, yea that one. It was enough to make my ass pucker. As if that wasn't enough, Dr. T tells me that I have a cavity brewing in my lower right molar, the very last one. Marvelous. And here I thought it was just going to be another routine visit. So I decided to consolidate all of my woes and have the repair work over and done with. Two novacaine shots to the jaw later and the right side of my face felt like Rocky after 14 rounds with Ivan Drago. Then the drill starts. Black chunks of old filling fly all over the inside of my mouth (lucky that the suction was going) and just when I thought the worst was over, the pain hits me. I thought "wait a minute...I just played the part of the pin cushion so that I'd spare myself the trauma, but still, that drill is doing a world of hurt! What the fuck?!" (Now try saying that with a vacuum in your mouth). I raise my hand, and the doctor says, "oh, that part of the mouth is always hard to numb just because the teeth are the thickest and are set deeper in the jaw. But don't worry, the drilling is almost over." For the next 2 minutes, I was seeing this nauseating color of orange as the bone-jarring pain lingered...the funny thing was, however, I was beginning to tolerate it. Who knew that I'd put up with pain similar to the one caused by chewing tin foil, but more painful. Feeling a might disturbed I asked myself: "Am I liking this? was I a closet masochist?" That scene was starting to come out straight from Little Shop of Horrors without the singing. I was quite surprised that my pain threshold was higher than I thought. It almost became a challenge, actually. I started thinking I was Bond being tortured, but sadly, I couldn't come up with any brilliant one-liner comebacks. Nor did I look like the part as I sadly drooled and swished the nasty chunks out of my mouth.

Then I snapped out of that weird-ass twilight zone by Celine Dion's "My heart will go on" being piped through the speakers. Merci bou coup, Celine. With the new filling all finished, I left the office with a clean bill of dental health, a floppy cheek and lower lip, and probably a sizable copay.

Moral of the story: Valentines Day sucks. Keep the roses, throw away the chocolate and brush your teeth.

P.S. My dog threw up on my bed.

Running behind

I feel that everything around me is moving at a much faster rate. Maybe the earth's solar rotation is increasing in velocity or maybe I'm just getting bogged down more and more by certain things that I have become slow. A few years ago, my father asked me about marriage. I told him that I might not even be ready for a while. I was 22 back then. Four years later, here I am contemplating the fact that my father started a family when he was 25, leaving me wondering if I'll ever be ready. I suppose not, considering my personal track record. Past relationships were all too short, too few and far between. The few that stand out the most have left their battle scars, enough to make me skiddish about the idea of love. I think I'm completely over one thing then I find out that I'm not. Not entirely, but just enough to keep me awake at night. It feels like all my other friends, my past loves have moved on with their lives, have reached new levels in their careers or relationships...getting promoted, engaged, married, getting pregnant. And here I am, slowly bringing up the rear.
I'm happy and grateful about my acceptance into med school, but I wish I was already in and doing work just so I can say that I'm on my way, that I too, have moved on and maybe even gained some speed. Perhaps I'm overreacting and I may just need a little sleep.

Joyeux Noel

Cuz I've got a golden ticket!!!

At 11:51am, I received one of the most important phone calls of my life: the call of a medical school telling me that I have been offered a seat in their upcoming class!

Everything is so surreal right now...and it's running up my cell phone bill. I've been calling friends and relatives all day. I don't think I even got much work done at the hospital. I've been jumping up and down, smiling like crazy. I'm pretty much like Charlie, when he got his golden ticket. No, better than Charlie, I dare say.

In the same token, as I made these phone calls, I'm realizing how much I have to thank for and how grateful I am. There were times when everything just looked backwards, or I felt like I was hopelessly stuck. There were plenty of moments when I could've easily given up. But if it weren't for those special people (you know who you are, and if you don't, just remember the time you've spent with me and made me feel better when I was down...yep...you're special too) I don't think I would've made it this far.

A good doctor I know told me today that life is a series of races; that every finish line is another starting block. Another friend of mine reminded me when I called her today that the key to finishing a race is to RUN. This is a new race for me as I enter into a hard life in medicine. There's plenty of "running" in the near future, but looking at it right now, I feel that I can go on forever. A new door has opened up to me and the possibilities are staggering in number. I'm nervous, but I'm excited as all hell and I welcome this challenge wholeheartedly. I've been hungry for change for so long, it just feels overwhelming to know that I'm standing at the threshold of it...like a boy who just got a date from the girl of his dreams...

For those who prayed for me, thank you and may your own prayers be answered 10 times over.

For those who helped me, my help is yours always.

For those who believed in me, I will not let you down.

I love you all!

-CD

P.S. I was offered a seat for the class of 2011 at UMDNJ-SOM in Stratford, NJ, for those of you keeping score. Ciao.

The season...tis approaching

For me, Christmas brings a feeling like the one you get when you know you're going to a big party. As soon as November rolled around, I busted out my old Bing Crosby Christmas tape and played it in my little radio until I wore down the ribbon to the point of breaking. I got into the habit of making holiday decorations instead of buying them, so there was lots of colored paper and bits of scissor scraps all over the place because I'd be cutting out intricate patterns or just doing crazy origami pieces for the tree. And the tree itself was unique too...since spruce pines are hard to come by in the Philippines, we used the coconut palm instead. Then there was the yearly project with my father: the making of the Christmas Star Lantern or "Parol." I always looked forward to this because it always amazed me how creative my dad can get with the lantern. One year, he took the flowers of sugarcane reeds and used them as the main coverage for the lantern. It looked like a large, gorgeous velvet star. Oh, then there was the traditional "simbang gabi" or "night mass" which was actually celebrated at 4 in the morning. Again, I wasn't much of a catholic as a kid and waking up in the buttcrack of dawn for church was not my idea of a good time, but the smell of incense during mass was always a good memory. That and the home-made rice cakes (bibingka) people sold outside the church made the waking up more tolerable and half the time, even fun. Then there was christmas eve/day when mom would come back from the US to celebrate the holiday at home. My dad prepares a big homecoming party for her. And after the midnight supper, she becomes our Santa Claus. She brought presents from abroad and we would stay up all night opening the packages and trying out our new toys/clothes/etc. What really sticks out in my mind right now is the smell of the bags of irish spring soap, chocolate, and apples as the balikbayan boxes were opened. That whiff of freshness mixed in with fruit and the sugarry scent of Baby Ruths and Twixes and Butterfingers...all wonderful smells hitting you at once...there ain't nothin' better =).

Anyway, that's my Christmas memory. What's yours?