tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78318819060729669152024-03-18T21:18:27.023-07:00my jonesmy rants, my job, my loot, my shoes, my shirt, my mind, my insanityizewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-89770013260505001922010-09-24T14:38:00.000-07:002010-09-24T14:38:56.246-07:00right...so this is the joke...<br />
<br />
<br />
... you really have to be out of my league.<br />
<br />
ouch.izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-51113846994390078842010-09-09T11:20:00.000-07:002010-09-09T11:20:31.071-07:00better than thouTo JRA... fine. Keep telling yourself that you are better than I am, that you are higher. And that you don't have to reply to my messages - because you think that I'm beneath you. Knock yourself out. The way I see it, your shoulders are going to tire on supporting a head that's bigger than they can handle. Goodluck with that attitude.izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-8619030640386697472010-06-09T22:25:00.000-07:002010-06-09T22:25:30.584-07:00freakin' hot, stillraining in June<br />
<br />
still it's hot<br />
<br />
freakin' city of concrete...<br />
<br />
can't sleep <strike>well</strike> at night without airconditioning.<br />
<br />
and I thought summer is over.izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-75230610349100609832010-06-07T08:52:00.000-07:002010-06-07T08:52:47.626-07:00the planI was planning on continuing with the sorting of my documents, a.k.a. accumulated pile of garbage, tonight. That's the reason I left work today on the dot. But lo and behold, I turned on the TV and watched for a couple of hours, and then now I am stuck in front of the computer updating my Facebook account, and this blog. Way to go, self!<br />
<br />
I now highly doubt that I'd be done with the sorting tonight. I even have to shred the unwanted papers tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Lots of work in store, Ize. Lots of work in store. (Okay now, get your butt off the chair and start working!)izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-35970308106282758272010-06-05T19:51:00.000-07:002010-06-05T19:52:13.614-07:00weekend activities<span style="font-size: small;">My brother and his family will be coming here in Manila for a month-long visit. Their arrival date is on the 10th (Thursday of this coming week), so the household help and I are doing general cleaning here in my apartment.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Yesterday, I cleaned the bathroom. I scrubbed everything, from the tiles to the toilet bowl. I noticed the the floor grout has been worn out, so I'm thinking of replacing it. Still, I'm figuring out how I am going to do that (it would be my first time to do such a thing), or if I'm going to do it at all. If I do, and if my father sees it, it's either I'd get a praise (if it turns out good) or a good scolding.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Anyway, today, I'm cleaning up my room - which I will have to evict, for my brother and his family to occupy. I give way for them since my nephew is used to the cold weather in Illinois, and my room is the only airconditioned room in the house. It's also good that the rainy days have arrived, that I wouldn't have to suffer from the scorching temperatures while only making do with an electric fan.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I'm thinking of where I'm going to put all my garbage (aka accumulated stuff that I'm not sure if I really need to have around).</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">And just like any other clean-up day, I have my stereo turned up with funky music playing the whole time. Nothing's more motivating for a physical activity than funky music. :)</span>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-583920784919653342010-06-01T08:43:00.000-07:002010-06-05T19:02:46.110-07:00frequent flyer<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I just booked my second flight out of the country today. Cebu Pacific announced airfare sale for trips to and from Hong Kong. I booked a trip to HK with four friends from August 21 to 23. :)</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I wasn't expecting to book anything these days since yesterday's thoughts. Looking back at my March 14 post, I was looking at this HK trip as an "extra" trip, since I was really planning on going to Singapore this July. Anyway, those unplanned trips really push through. These travel buddies of mine, we were initially aiming for a trip to Singapore this July, but the airfare isn't a match for our budget, so...</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hong Kong, here we come! :) I hope we have a good time there, just as the way we had in South Korea. :)</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-78210103546399079232010-05-31T12:11:00.000-07:002010-06-05T18:56:32.584-07:00flight plans<span style="font-size: small;">I have been looking at airfare deals lately. Together with a bunch of friends, I'm considering going to Singapore or Macau this July or August. There was a sale of tickets to Macau by Cebu Pacific, and to Singapore by PAL, during the weekend, but strangely I didn't have enough enthusiasm to book a flight. Maybe I'm too excited for the arrival of my brother and his family to the country next week. I miss them so much, I haven't seen them for two years.</span><br />
<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anyway, the plan of going back to South Korea on October looks bleak because of the northern half throwing temper tantrums. I hope the situation doesn't go worse. It would be a waste of life and resources for stupid politics. I don't know about the North, but the South is too beautiful to be damaged due to conflict. I long to visit Seoul and Busan again.</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-91680792213899304312010-05-30T07:53:00.000-07:002010-06-04T10:32:08.628-07:00ain't it hot?<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's June in an hour, but the Summer heat has not yet relented. We have experienced heavy rains last Friday, and some rain this afternoon, but it was as if those were just temporary relief from the torture of El Nino.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And in an unpleasant coincidence, my air-conditioner has not been working properly. All it could give was medium cool - I'm suspecting a problem with its compressor, but what can I say? The aircon's 8 years old.</span></div><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Can't take it anymore.</span><br />
<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When is this hot ordeal going to end? Argh!</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-11395332200132785122010-05-03T09:57:00.000-07:002010-05-31T12:13:04.294-07:00habeedee self!<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">hayss. 31 na ako! :)</div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-36276375824778963652010-03-28T07:07:00.000-07:002010-06-05T19:52:57.608-07:00hottah!<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Something must have triggered my </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">sumpong</span><span style="font-size: small;">. I can't really identify the specific culprit, but I highly suspect that it's an effect of my monthly menopause-inducing medication.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It started when I was preparing to go to church, and I was deciding if I would take our household help with me (who has been going to church with me since I resumed this my religious obligation) or not. Suddenly, I couldn't think of bearing her company. I know it's unfair, she hasn't done anything wrong. Or maybe I'm starting not to appreciate her presence because when she's around she just sits or stands there and says nothing at all until I talk to her. When I go silent, she goes silent too.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But I couldn't consider that as a trigger to my ill temper today.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Later while at the church grounds, walking towards the door, I noticed all the </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">palaspas</span> <span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">vendors blocking the way of the church-goers. Some parishioners even stop on their tracks to buy the weaved palm leaves, which cause even more slow-down on the flow of people going to the church. One middle-aged female vendor blocked my way in a swoop with a</span> <span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">palaspas</span><span style="font-size: small;"> she's selling. I was instantly annoyed as the leaves would have hit my face had I not slowed down. I gestured that I wasn't interested, and I think I had frowned at the woman. I know I've lost grasp at the essence of the season because of the way I acted, but the scene on the church ground at that moment hardly showed "Holy" nor respect. Behind the sight of the sea of </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">palaspas</span><span style="font-size: small;">, I saw trade - the exchange of goods for money - and the sellers do not care where they make the transactions.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And then I saw people bunched at the front door of the church. I opted that we go for the side doors and I was right - there were not much crowd there. We were able to get inside the church, no sweat. But inside there were hardly any vacant seats. And the people that were seated, sat in a spaced manner that one would not consider squeezing into those spaces. (Pinoys have huge personal space.) We decided to stand on the sides until the end of the mass.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At first I was absolutely fine. Until more and more people trickled in. With my hot flashes, I barely stopped fanning. And then there were too many people around me that the effect of fanning has diminished. I feel guilty about not being able to properly pray. Every now and then, distractions pop out in front of me that makes my mind wander. And then with little space to move due to the crowd around me, my claustrophobia started to kick in. I was starting to feel like screaming in my head.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I decided that we get out of the church immediately after the blessing. Just as the people were raising and shuffling the </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">palaspas</span><span style="font-size: small;"> in the air, we were on our way out.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At the street, it was sooo hot as the sun was directly shining at us. Jeepneys lined the lanes, making it impossible for other vehicles to pass through. I was already feeling bad from the heat when I spotted a taxi. I hailed it and told my companion to get on board. Once inside the taxi, I felt relief from the heat due to the air-conditioning. But then, something else made me even more sick - it smelled like rotten, thawed fish inside the cab. I wanted to barf but held it. After a few minutes I asked the cabbie to pull over, feigning having to buy something at a shop along the way, paid the fare, and got off with my companion. We hailed another taxi.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We headed to the mall, which is a bad decision. While half of the city's populace were in churches, the other half were in malls. Too many people undergoing retail therapy. And the crowd is maddening. Some people just stop on their tracks, insensitive of those behind them. And then, while I'm about to check out a merchandise on a rack, someone gets in the way... and stays there. (Hmp!)</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It felt like my head's going to expand, so I decided to buy take out food and go home.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Home. I locked myself in my room. Felt the ire filling my head. I screamed a soundless one. And then I cried.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Feels a bit better now.</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-38653493853730093592010-03-14T10:29:00.000-07:002010-06-05T18:57:22.082-07:00severely itchy feet<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: bold;">SG on July</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Barely a week after arriving from Korea and I'm planning another out-of-the-country trip with my friends. This time it's the (mer)lion city of Singapore.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We're planning to have our visit on July - the end of the Great Sale. But aside from shopping, our - of course - agenda is to see the attractions of the city and immerse in the culture as much as we possibly can. And one way to do that is have a food trip. Apparently (and luckily), food sits in the center of Singaporean culture.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm excited at the thought of seeing another foreign land, but this doesn't match what I felt when I was about to go to Korea. Maybe it is because of the effect of Hallyu, or because the landscape is so different from what we have.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: bold;">Cebu (or Palawan) on June</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My brother and his family will be having their vaykay from the States on June, and they plan to take the family to Cebu for a few days. However, I will try to persuade my brother to spend our vaykay in Palawan instead. I'd love to see the subterranean river and the powder-dust like sands of Honda Bay.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: bold;">Macau/Hong Kong in August</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">If I could squeeze this trip in, I would! Really!</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: bold;">South Korea in October</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yahoo! I hope this pushes through. It would be my first autumn. :)</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-19973943261309990022010-03-14T08:39:00.001-07:002010-06-02T08:27:03.695-07:00withdrawal symptoms<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">this is the difficult part after touring South Korea... the withdrawal symptoms!</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's not just that I'm afflicted with wanderlust, but I fell in love with the cities of Seoul and Busan. A week after I've come back from my travel (with friends) to the "sparkling" land, I still have images of these two cities flashing in my head. And at night, I still dream of being there. On my waking hours I still could smell the food, feel the biting cold in my skin, and hear the incomprehensible chattering of foreign tongues. I miss South Korea!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEZUmODnuIKExwnSmtJlBiD2T2leAxKRz2h-NYy3jP7EdzUAq_pXjVk_q43nKHOKdjl0Lx-vtDq-f1j6_n3xPe5cRWJP6IqDjpFD7-ZJcsyXi-YfcE-SkzTZYgCcZZ-QUPXB6WfjuI04o/s1600-h/issa006.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448526022647060962" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEZUmODnuIKExwnSmtJlBiD2T2leAxKRz2h-NYy3jP7EdzUAq_pXjVk_q43nKHOKdjl0Lx-vtDq-f1j6_n3xPe5cRWJP6IqDjpFD7-ZJcsyXi-YfcE-SkzTZYgCcZZ-QUPXB6WfjuI04o/s320/issa006.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 270px;" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi99mwpQn0vmgm6FNx7hhfMjnx7uS7oW9zNriMAsLpSC8ATbefP2xjAEHUhcysSpRq8-1ac_g7DKs6UhF99AEWIVY5WI_dcPGP59m6x4y2zW2yLyhJSDLPUVhPVEu00IuYEC1OxTtKNEdY/s1600-h/group009.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448526003631496466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi99mwpQn0vmgm6FNx7hhfMjnx7uS7oW9zNriMAsLpSC8ATbefP2xjAEHUhcysSpRq8-1ac_g7DKs6UhF99AEWIVY5WI_dcPGP59m6x4y2zW2yLyhJSDLPUVhPVEu00IuYEC1OxTtKNEdY/s320/group009.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 214px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I am also in serious envy of that country - their advancement in technology, social systems, and citizens' discipline. If only our government officials were truly honorable and true to their duties... if only we Pinoys were patriotic enough... maybe this land of ours could even be in better state than theirs. We Pinoys show so much potential in intellect, talent, and </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">diskarte</span><span style="font-size: small;">. Our land is so rich in every aspect. Sadly, so far, </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">hanggang</span><span style="font-size: small;"> potential </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">pa rin tayo</span><span style="font-size: small;">.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Pero hindi ko pa rin ipagpapalit ang Pinas. Manigas sila sa inggit, ako nakatira sa isang</span><span style="font-size: small;"> tropical paradise.Maybe this is just the effect of being plucked out of an environment that I've been in my entire life. New sights, new sounds...</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">What amazes me more is the (general) niceness of the Korean people. One allowed us to take the cab first in a taxi stop even though he and his friends got there first. "You are guests. We take care of our guests," he said.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In Busan, an ajumma gave back my extra 20,000 won after I mistakenly gave her 3 pieces of 10,000won bills to pay for a 3,000won pack of bread (thinking I gave her 3 pcs. of 1,000won bills - I was confused with the number of zeros), and then gave me the change to the 10,000won.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And the food... the food! </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Hindi sila nagtitipid sa</span><span style="font-size: small;"> ingredients. My friends and I found Crown Bakery, a bakeshop/cafe in Insa-dong where they serve goodies similar to those of Bread Talk. But you would say "Bread Talk, what?" if you saw their goodies. I had a pizza bread - its bread is almost twice the size of BT's and the topping is sooo thick! They used mozzarella that really forms a string when you bite off it. </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Isang</span><span style="font-size: small;"> bread </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">lang, busog na ako</span><span style="font-size: small;">. And their prices for their products are just right. </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Mas mahal pa ang</span><span style="font-size: small;"> same type of food </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">dito sa Pinas</span><span style="font-size: small;">.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Before going to SK, I was excited about the thought/possibility of seeing an actor in one of those novelas, but when I was there all I could do is wonder at the sights and think of immersing in the culture as much as I could with the little time we have there. </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Walang </span><span style="font-size: small;">K-Pop </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">sa utak ko</span><span style="font-size: small;">. I enjoyed whatever it is before me, wherever it is I am in.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I highly recommend to anyone visiting SK to go to Busan. That city is just beautiful even in the cold of snow-less winter. Check out exhibit A: Yeongdo Park</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi406ZdQcDFJj1h96sqSwIjhzUQUFu3pn4zFL7iKfI-41_7z2e3tRVBBgexbPOPcAt3VGZssK6eZJIdc3CTPm_gL3rUfnRRb_dHurWtnXDR6dDQSKnrL2Vxqt8fJ1tOcIy0xiTgl5Gb1Fs/s1600-h/sights001.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448523436277265410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi406ZdQcDFJj1h96sqSwIjhzUQUFu3pn4zFL7iKfI-41_7z2e3tRVBBgexbPOPcAt3VGZssK6eZJIdc3CTPm_gL3rUfnRRb_dHurWtnXDR6dDQSKnrL2Vxqt8fJ1tOcIy0xiTgl5Gb1Fs/s320/sights001.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 214px;" /></a></span><span style="font-size: small;">Taejongdae Park</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TOwBw1OGVQW3AepCtUClH_TJcLhZocJq4McE-FHEvGjk_YfcbfIovm8RGWzfLp9ozWO6sZedwohoiHn18iMJKayQwaCpKPX9BMr_VfB2qlAuk_YZP9U5VrINRKKSN9IWPutf9grcEYU/s1600-h/sights003.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448525994113658578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TOwBw1OGVQW3AepCtUClH_TJcLhZocJq4McE-FHEvGjk_YfcbfIovm8RGWzfLp9ozWO6sZedwohoiHn18iMJKayQwaCpKPX9BMr_VfB2qlAuk_YZP9U5VrINRKKSN9IWPutf9grcEYU/s320/sights003.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 214px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-18443287177027188662010-02-25T04:32:00.000-08:002010-06-02T08:27:31.308-07:00you know you're addicted when...<span style="font-size: small;">... despite it triggering hot flashes that could almost make you cry, you still drink coffee.</span>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-40193277689331224202010-02-24T07:49:00.000-08:002010-06-02T08:27:53.528-07:00seoul preps III<ul><li><span style="font-size: small;">reserved rooms at Seoul Backpackers today. I tried to do that thru their website's reservation form yesterday, but I didn't get a reply, so I sent them an e-mail to make sure my request goes thru. Fortunately, I did, because that's only when I got a response from them. I wonder what the point of having an online form if it doesn't work the way it should.</span></li>
</ul><ul><li><span style="font-size: small;">thinking about going to the mall tomorrow before work and do some canvassing of stuff to buy for the trip. that is if I get up earlier than 9AM tomorrow. it's up to the lazy me.</span></li>
</ul><ul><li><span style="font-size: small;">still haven't finalized the itinerary - although we don't plan on sticking to a definite course of things to do. it would be a great help to have a list of alternatives of places to go or things to do. it's still winter in Korea, some tourist spots may not be as pleasing to visit as they should in summer or autumn.</span> </li>
</ul>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-55941106054035188892010-02-21T09:38:00.000-08:002010-06-02T08:28:43.334-07:00seoul preps II<span style="font-size: small;">Got my Korean visa.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Now is the time to really buy stuff I need for the trip... such as:</span><br />
<ul><li><span style="font-size: small;">hiking boots</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">traveler adapter (for all those e-gadget charging needs)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">memory cards</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">camcorder</span></li>
</ul><span style="font-size: small;">... and all other things I think I need but probably won't be able to use.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I'm half-excited, half-scared. It's my first time out of the country, and me and my travel companions are doing it DIY. (The idea of restricted itinerary doesn't appeal to us.) And the first-timer me is doing most of the research and preps for our itinerary.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">And we even have the guts to travel by train from Seoul to Busan - and then back to Seoul all within a day.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I hope this trip goes very well as I plan to go back to see Nami Island and the Korean Folk Village by September with my folks.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Goodluck to us.</span>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-27395584994615715232010-02-21T09:07:00.000-08:002010-06-02T08:28:59.195-07:00that bbq feeling<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I started having my lupron shots a month ago - that med that's gonna cause me temporary menopause (to stop new cysts from growing in my ovary) for a month, and since I'm in a 6-month program, I get a shot once a month till June.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's only the second month, and the low level of estrogen is already wreaking havoc in my body, i.e. hot flashes, night sweats, sleeplessness in the night, sleepiness by day, and mood swings. My hot flashes ain't the kind you experience when you blush when you see your crush. It's the kind of feeling you get when you run a marathon and then suddenly stopped on your tracks - it's a burning feeling from the inside. It starts at the back of the neck, or at the upper back, and then spreads (sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly) to the torso and the limbs. Even when inside an airconditioned room, I sweat like I was under the midday sun. Imagine me in the office, fanning myself to cool down while everybody else is donning a jacket. What's crazier is that when I cool down, I cool down to a chill. And then I get goosebumps from the low temperature.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Now I understand why 'occasional crying' is a menopausal symptom - the roller coaster temperature, when it happens in short intervals, is enough to drive you crazy. And frustrated. And irked. So irked, you cry. And then you get the mood swings.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Now you know how it is to menopause," my doctor told me, "remember that when you get old."</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Think about that. All that suffering plus mid-life crisis.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So, to the kid reading this: don't get irritated by your middle-aged mother's fits. (Glad I wasn't when my Mom went through this.) You don't know how it is to be barbecued from the inside every now and then.</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-29459591675106175772009-12-16T01:34:00.000-08:002010-06-02T08:29:09.988-07:00skweez!<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Arrgh! Feels like all my blood and innards are going opposite directions. My doctor re-adjusted my binder so tight that it makes breathing a bit difficult. As for the benefits, I could easily getup and walk around because it gives the needed support on my lower abdomen. My doctor advised me to not take the binder off for tomorrow's 8-hour travel to my home province. When we get to the province, that's when I can take the binder and the gauze off.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The knot on my stitch was already removed. I was a bit terrified when, while changing the dressing of my wound, the doctor took out a pair of scissors. I wasn't warned for any pain today. I could only imagine the pain I went through more than two decades back, when the stitches on my finger was removed. It felt like being stitched again. But to my relief, this time, only the knot was removed. The thread that was used is absorbable.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Okay, that's all I could type for now. I need to lie down. I'm feeling a tight squeeze around my waist.</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-82784268535630120122009-12-07T22:00:00.000-08:002010-06-02T08:29:20.047-07:00here we go<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Checked in for the surgery tomorrow. I got to the hospital with my Mom. My Pops will follow after the color-coding for the day lifts at seven.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Overheard folks at the waiting area talking about pre-surgery jitters. "It's gonna be okay, they will give you a shot to calm you down before the operation," one of them told the other.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">"I think I'm gonna need that too," I thought.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Although I'm a picture of strength, inside, my heart was staging a mardi gras. "Sheeeeet... they're going to open me up!" I was screaming in my head. Still, I managed to smile and talk confidently to the admission clerk.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When we got to the nurse station, they asked us who the patient is, as both my Mom and I looked okay. I said it was I. And then they asked for my age when they filled out my patient record/form. I said "30," and the nurses gave me a second look. They thought I was much younger, they said. I was flattered, but still scared.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A nurse ushered us to my room. And then I was told that I am no longer allowed to leave the room. So my Mom, went back to the apartment to fetch my Pops. Before they got back, a nurse took my blood pressure, and then a medtech took 5cc of my blood for tests. She had a little difficulty looking for a good vein. It was a painful extraction.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">While I was alone, I continued to pray. Up to that time, I couldn't believe that I'm about to go through surgery. I was feeling like I was strapped into a roller coaster with a thousand loops, and there's no going anywhere but through it. Like I was pushed on a slippery slide, I couldn't do anything to stop my fall.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I tried to get my mind of it by reading books.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And then my parents arrived. And then another medtech entered my room and asked to extract another 5cc of my blood, saying the first sample was hemolyzed - about which my mother was wondering (she's a medtech too) because it's too soon for the red blood cells to rupture. The medtech couldn't find the vein on my other arm, so she extracted blood from my left wrist. (Ouch!)</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Before 9PM, I had my dinner. I was told to eat a lot.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At 9PM I was given an enema. A few minutes after, I pooped out everything I ate. (Ew.)</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I had a hard time sleeping.</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-82016969218704567002009-11-28T07:03:00.000-08:002010-06-02T08:29:48.776-07:00seoul preps<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I got into a tour sched, with a group of peeps from work, to South Korea. So far, I'm doing all of the preparations for the group's trip: from booking, re-booking... to setting the itinerary.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It would be my first flight, and of course, my first foreign trip. It's just odd for me to think that albeit going with a couple of non-first-time-fliers, I'm the one who's doing all the preps. Maybe I just want to make this trip as hassle-free as possible. That being said, I'm even going back on learning </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Hangul</span><span style="font-size: small;">, the Korean language, because I've learned that street signs in Seoul rarely have English translations. Although I've heard that people in Seoul are very friendly and speak some English, it would help a lot if I would know how to read signs. Anyway, I got time until March (the tour schedule) to learn the language, and I've heard that it's quite easy to learn unlike Nippongo.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As per my last research, and our group's latest agreement, we would spend the 4-day trip as follows:</span></div><ul style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><li><span style="font-size: small;">Day 1 - Manila to Incheon: get to Seoul and check-in to a hostel immediately. Get a ticket for KTX (bullet train) for a trip to Busan the next day.</span> </li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">Day 2 - Get up early in the morning and hop on a trip on the KTX to Busan, spend the whole day there, and then get on a KTX trip back to Seoul before nightfall. Go to Namdaemun market for souvenirs.</span> </li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">Day 3 - Get around Seoul on-foot. Stroll early in the morning at the Cheonggye stream, see the palaces, visit Hongdae (where Coffee Prince is), and go to N Seoul Tower.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">Day 4 - Hop on a train trip back to Incheon, go to Sindo Island to visit the Full House filming location, go back to Incheon airport. Back to Manila.</span></li>
</ul><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It would be a fully-packed trip, but we would actually be missing some places that we would like to see like the Korean Folk Village (filming location of "Jewel in the Palace"), and Nami Island (filming location of "Winter Sonata"). If I can have another opportunity next year, I would go back on September to visit these two places in time for autumn. Nami Island would be gorgeous by then.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm planning to get my visa this December, and then book the hostel accommodations for the group. Something tells me I make be a good travel agent. :P</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm even researching the weather, and what clothes do wear on March. :)</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-77316030258657880512009-11-28T06:47:00.000-08:002010-06-02T08:31:05.413-07:00surgery schedule<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Went to the doctor this afternoon and had my surgery scheduled. It will be on the 7th of December, so I will have to be admitted to the hospital on the 6th. The doctor advised me to eat a lot until 10PM on the day before the surgery. After which, I should go fasting.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I asked a little more questions from the doctor, which got me scared a little bit. For one, she told me that if the cyst would be very difficult to remove, they would have to take the ovary with it. So I'm praying that it won't be the case. And then, she confirmed that the incision would be vertical, like in an appendectomy. Another thing she told me is that they would still have to biopsy the cyst before they could determine whether it is endometrial, if so I would have to have injections for six months to temporarily stop my menstruation.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I went from relaxed to a bit nervous. I'm so worried about the possibilities. And I'm praying and hoping for the best.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So far, my facade is holding up although I feel like cracking inside. I need a lot more prayers. I need to strengthen my faith.</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-74694040570337880832009-11-21T03:11:00.001-08:002010-06-02T08:31:15.329-07:00scared and all<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sometimes I see myself as a strong person - whenever I get into a difficult situation, I cry but then I force myself to go through it. I've lost count of how many times I've psyched myself that "this too will pass," "this is just a phase," and "I'm just being too negative." I create a hard shell to protect the person inside that only wants to cry.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Prayers really help. I pray a lot especially during tough times like this. Like this time, that I have cysts in my ovaries: four little ones in the left, and one, 5cm., blood-filled cyst on the right.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">How did I find out? I've been bleeding in between my periods lately. Normal spotting doesn't look as red as the blood coming out of my body at a time that it's not supposed to. At first, I thought it was UTI, which also worried me a lot because it could have meant something somewhere in my urinary tract could be majorly bleeding basing on the amount of blood that's coming out. But I don't have the severe UTI symptoms, like burning feeling when you pee, or severe pain on the flank area. So, I gathered my guts and went to the hospital for a consultation. Good thing I did.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The OB-GYN first interviewed me about my symptoms, and then asked me to lay on the bed then she pressed on my lower abdomen, searching for a lump. She asked me if I felt any pain, but I didn't. That's when she recommended me for a trans-rectal scan.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">You read it right, it's trans-rectal. As in right up the arse.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I went back after a day to have my TRS. And boy, was it painful, if not uncomfy. I would have opted to spare the reader the details of this, but I've decided I'm gonna document this. If you, the reader, feels queasy about this, skip this paragraph. Okay, so a probe, bigger than my thumb was stuck up my arse. The doctor told me to push, but the shy and uncomfy me wasn't able to do so. Next thing I knew, the probe was already in and I felt a tear. (I know, ew!) I had to endure that for about 5 minutes. I couldn't decide on which to focus my attention to: the discomfort and the pain, or hearing that I have cysts in my ovaries. Then the doctor said, "okay, just a little bit more and this is gonna be over," to my relief, but then again the phone rang and the assistant said, "hold on, I'm gonna have to answer that." I wanted to grab her arm and yell, "No! Stay here and let's get this over with!" But even if I tried to, I wouldn't be able to do so, since she zapped off to get the phone. I was so thankful that the phone conversation didn't take long.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After the scan, I headed immediately to my OB's office, but I was informed that she's yet to come at 1PM. At it was only a little past 11AM.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I decided to go home for the meantime, because I didn't want to wait and contemplate at the hospital. I called my boss and informed her that I'm gonna take half the day's work off so I could have the follow-up consultation. I didn't tell her about the cysts, so I think it was the reason why she asked me if I could have the consultation on another day. But I insisted and told her that my OB only comes to the hospital in the afternoon. She agreed.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At home, I got to contemplate and go anxious about what I heard from the doctor who did the scan. I refused to read the printed result that she gave me. Negative thoughts bombarded my head and I went to tears. I prayed, begged, pleaded...</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And then my Mom called, asking how I was. I haven't told her about me going to the doctor yet, at the time. And so I told her, but spared her the details. I told her that I was yet to have my follow-up consultation and that I would be telling her about it after.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It broke my heart thinking about the possibilities and me not telling her everything. I worry about my Mom too, since she has a heart condition. I didn't want her to worry about something that I don't even know the answer to. If I'm gonna tell her anything, I had to know exactly what I'm having first.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Before 1PM, I headed back to the hospital. My mind was further screwed while waiting for my turn at the consultation. I kept on praying. I prayed for good news.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Consultation time. I handed the scan results to the OB, and she read it before she spoke to me. And then she explained to me the anatomy of the female reproductive organ. And then, part by part, she explained the scan results to me.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She told me that aside from the cysts, my right ovary is filled with blood. One of the theories that they, doctors, are looking at at such conditions is that part of the flesh in the uterus that turns into blood during menstruation had slipped (or somehow found its way) into my ovary, hence the blood. And the blood doesn't go anywhere. The ovary just gets filled up, menstrual period after period, and the risk in that is that at some point the cyst could burst. (Another doctor told me, another risk is that the cyst could twist along with the ovary.) She told me that there's a treatment where I could get injected with a drug that would stop my menstrual cycle for 6 months, until the cysts would disappear. But for cysts more than 4cm in size, the drug would have little to no effect. The drug can only help me with my smaller cysts in my left ovary. But for the one in the right, I would have to undergo surgery to have it removed. It has to be removed in order to save my ovary.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My hands turned cold and sweaty at that instant. The doctor tried to make me laugh, but I forgot what the joke was. I laughed a little and she seemed to be relieved. I must have looked awful to her.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And then I asked if I need to undergo surgery immediately. She told me, "The sooner, the better. But it's all up to you. You have to get yourself ready for it." I had to pick the date.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">First, off I was told that I was going to be opened up. And then I have to choose when they are going to do it to me. If that's not pressure enough...</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I couldn't believe myself while I watched me utter these words: "Sooner or later, I'm gonna have to have it removed, so I think we should do it within the month." I said that I'm gonna wait till my parents arrive from the province, and then we will schedule the operation.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So what's the good news? There's no mention of the "C". And my prayers might have been heard because I didn't shake and cry upon hearing what I did. I realized all that when I left the hospital and played the scene again in my head.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I told my friends whom I got to talk to, about it, right away. I wasn't seeking for sympathy, I was looking for a hand to hold and an ear to tell my concerns to. And it helped because I got to laugh while telling the whole story. And then I had the guts to call my parents to tell them about it.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I was laughing and (probably) sounding confident while I talked to my parents. My Dad even said, "I'm not worried because you don't seem to be afraid of it." I told him, "I'm actually nervous, but I know that I have to go through surgery sooner or later, so I'm choosing to have it the soonest possible time so the risks are lesser." What can I say? Though I worry about them worrying about me, lying to my parents has become a difficult thing for me to do.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I talk about it to my friends whenever I could, so I would feel less stressed about it. Although I'm thinking that I might be talking too much about it already. Anyway, nobody has complained about it yet.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I try to rationalize. I keep remembering why I should undergo surgery. I keep on praying.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm so scared. The last surgery I had was when I was nine, when the tip of my left index finger was amputated after getting caught in a doorjamb. I had surgery twice for it, because after the first operation (the emergency procedure) the bone was trying to protrude to they had to remove a bit off it. That entire experience wasn't pleasant at all. And then I'm having this.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Part of me is melting with fear, and part of me is trying to stay tough. I cannot be weak, at least for the sake of my family. One who has gone through the same thing might think that this is not at all a big thing. But for someone like me who go nuts at the slightest illness, and has never had a surgery in the abdominal area... this is major. Especially that I was told that the procedure is similar to a caesarian operation. My abdomen is going to have a scar. (That's one thing I'm being sentimental about, too, as absurd as it may seem. I plan to take a picture of my tummy before the surgery.)</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Right now, I'm battling fear. There are times when I stop and think and couldn't believe that this is happening to me.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Apart from the surgery, I'm going to have to go through temporary menopause for six months after the operation because of the medication that I will have to go through to temporarily stop my menstruation. The doctor said that my hormonal cycle is one of the things that feed the growth of the cysts, so it has to stop for a time. The cache? Menopausal symptoms. And according to the literature that I read, there are 35 symptoms. Among them are: mood swings, hot flashes, sweaty nights, insomnia, depression, and all the things that we've witnessed our mothers went through at middle age. Menopause twice in life. Go figure.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I have warned my officemates of how I might be next year once I undergo the treatment. At this point I'm already asking for their understanding. I'm already explaining things to them so that they would know that whatever mean thing I do, it wouldn't be me, but the lack of estrogen. I'm even researching on ways to ease the symptoms.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Of all the symptoms, I fear depression the most, as I have had bouts twice before already. And it wasn't a pleasant thing at all. Talk about wondering what use there is trying to live life. You wake up in the morning and find no enthusiasm to do anything at all. And then you're constantly bombarded with bouts of anxiety. At some point I didn't know who I was. I questioned my very personality. What was the me within these flesh and bones. Good thing, I love life too much to give up. Again, prayers helped a lot during these episodes.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I've been through depression, and I know how painful it is in the mind, in the heart, and in the spirit. I fear going through it again. I hope that my prayers will again be heard. I pray that I don't go through depression again.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here I am, scared and all. To think, that vain people purposely go under the knife to change the way they look. I wonder where they draw their courage for that.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So this is me, psyching myself for that surgery. It only feels okay when I think of holding on to The One Above for strength.</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-49332075894595864922009-10-22T08:48:00.000-07:002010-06-02T08:31:26.652-07:00cold, cold turkey<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">... pushing thru with joining the tree-planting activity on Saturday at Tanay, Rizal - despite the oncoming typhoon. We're required to bring a shovel, so I'm planning on buying a small one. (</span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Magpa-sweet ba?</span><span style="font-size: small;">) The only thing I'm not so comfy about this activity is having to be at the meeting place at 5:30AM. My usual waking hour (due to my work schedule) is around 10AM. I just hope the rains don't pour on Saturday. It wouldn't feel so nice being drenched while lacking sleep. soooo...</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">... I'm trying to get off the caffeine hook due to health reasons. Been doing it for a week now. It's amazing, actually, for someone like me who gets a daily doze of up to 2 cups. It seems like caffeine has got a hold on me. I used to be able to ignore my coffee cravings, but now I have to take substitutes like hot choco, or keep myself full so I don't crave for anything more to put into my mouth. I'm a sniff short of getting the chills... I feel uneasy whenever I feel sleepy at mid-afternoon - more so when I smell someone else's freshly-mixed 3-in-1 in the office.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">... Feelin' like I have to curb my shopping drive. Couldn't help but buy, buy, buy things. Have to remind self that I still have to pay, pay, pay bills. It's not easy resisting purchasing nice clothes during a sale. Or a marked-down photographic equipment.</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-64151848316965136952009-10-01T09:45:00.000-07:002010-06-02T08:31:38.073-07:00bits and pieces of the day<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">on my way to work, midday, the rain poured in rage again. it's not a good thing, since a drizzle is already enough to cause panic to people. the cab I was in drove through the side streets of South Triangle, windshield turning white from the onslaught of water. cars had to turn on hazard lights. I was so scared that we would bump into another car because it was so difficult to see through the white-outed glass. I thought of what the flood victims would be feeling at the time.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">heard over the radio that a group of militants are expressing doubts on the intentions of the US troops who are helping in the relief and rescue operations. I couldn't help but swear. how dare them to question the presence of extra helping hands for hapless people who are already complaining on the lack of such? have these people even tried to give anything or participate in the relief operations? lives are at stake, for crying out loud! this is no time for political blah-blahs. these foreigners are helping because they decided that they like to help. whatever their intentions are, what's important is that the death toll doesn't rise anymore, that more mouths are fed, more backs are warmed, that more homes are regained, and more and lives are set right again. if these foreigners have underlying sinister intentions for helping, then shame on them. we wouldn't owe them anything if they use this situation against us. at any rate, I couldn't think of how someone or anyone could have sinister intentions for helping during disasters such as this. oh, but some people... our fellow Filipinos even, have the shameless audacity of protesting against the aid that's coming the way of our ill-fated </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">kababayans</span><span style="font-size: small;">. I hope, for their sake, that these are not the same set of people who waved the banner crying for the president to step down during the burial of Cory Aquino. some people are just crass.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">on the news, a crocodile was found floating on the floodwater of Cainta, Rizal. no nearby zoo claims the reptile. authorities have checked, and so far there's no conclusion as to the truth of this story. but that picture by the one who encountered it is so convincing. I hope the reptile gets caught immediately. the flood victims don't need another threat to worry about. unless they suddenly find a taste for croc meat. we all know how starvation can skew the food chain.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">checked on the oncoming storm after hearing the word "supertyphoon" from Nathaniel Cruz. "Pepeng" ("Parma" to the international community) has sustained winds of 195 kph and gustiness of up to 230 kph. It's already a Category 4 storm. "Milenyo," of two years ago, had sustained winds of 150 kph with the same gustiness. </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Pepeng</span><span style="font-size: small;">'s lowest pressure is at 920 hPA, while </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Milenyo</span><span style="font-size: small;">'s is at 950 hPA. </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Pepeng</span><span style="font-size: small;">: stronger sustained winds, lower pressure. The deeper or lower the pressure, the stronger the storm. Now, if we would recall how </span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Milenyo</span><span style="font-size: small;"> was like... let's hope for the best for this country.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">told the staff who would be on duty tomorrow to bring change of clothes and toiletries to get ready for what could happen due to the storm. some suggested to chip in for food.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">let's pray.</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-43622751363292775692009-10-01T08:39:00.001-07:002010-06-02T08:31:48.404-07:00broken<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">broken dreams. broken lives. broken homes. broken spirits. broken souls.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Friday, the storm was merely a news item. It was just like an insignificant part of the daily stories mixed up in the lineup of things to tell the world. "</span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Oh, another storm. It's gonna be a rainy day tomorrow.</span><span style="font-size: small;">" By nightfall the nightmare started to creep in. Only, no one noticed it had until the next day.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Saturday morning, I even almost had the tenacity of going malling. I looked out the window and observed the rain that has not stopped falling since the previous night and tried to encourage myself to go out despite the torrential downpour. I was planning on counting on my rain jacket. But there was a tagging of two poles in my head - feeling a bit lazy to go out because of the rain... but itching to roam. Laziness go the best of me so I didn't step out of the house. I didn't know until the afternoon that it was a decision for the best.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I "forced" myself to be a couch potato, in spite of my head screaming to go out. I slumped on the sofa and switched the TV on, only to begin witnessing the wrath of the storm that was above us. I couldn't believe what I was seeing when they showed what seemed to be a sea in the middle of the city.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">One of the anchors of the noontime news program wasn't able to make it to the studio, as he was stuck in Ortigas. There, he witnessed and reported on the collapse of the Corinthian Garden wall, resulting to what looked like a waterfall dumping all that its got onto EDSA. And then news on situations from various parts of the Metro poured in. Town after town, city after city submerged into floodwater. Dams announced schedules of water release.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I was able to get a good picture of what was going on before the electricity went out. And then text messages from the Library staff trickled in. One informed me that he cannot come to work because he woke up to the scene of all his things floating on floodwater - including his clothes. I coordinated for his pinch hitter right away. It was then that I realized how skeletal our manpower is, as it would not be easy - if not impossible - for most of the librarians to make it to the office. Those who were already on duty were forced to stay for hours after their time off. One was stuck in Bulacan when a bridge collapsed and the NLEX was closed. One librarian braved flood and traffic to get to work and sub for those who were already off-duty. Even though I wasn't able to get to work, I spent much of the time coordinating and re-configuring staff schedule just to ensure continuity of the Library operations for the sake of the news programs. It's a chain of responsibilities, if you would look at it. We have to keep the news programs airing so that the public would be kept informed.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I was working like a call center agent, connecting to people well into the night. The next day, I tried to catch up on my sleep only to be woken up again by a barrage of text messages. Alas, I had to reconfigure staff schedule again, as personnel get stuck in their homes, get sick, or get overworked. I thought that I was having a bad day, but thought again when I was reminded of the flood victims.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The first weekday was no less of a chaos: relief and rescue operations here and there, images of flood victims everywhere, houses submerged in water and mud, cars stacked up and jumbled like bowling pins and turtles on their backs... everyone, everything is grinding to make things better as much and as soon as possible. But it's so hard to pick up the pieces from what Nature has left of us.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I had to fight tears as I watched stories of victims air in the primetime news. It feels as if giving goods to these people, or working for relief operations would not be enough to make things right again.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We say that the Filipino spirit is resilient. We haven't seen the conclusion of this episode. Heck, another storm is coming... so soon. It's forcing the flipped pages open again. Maybe we are strong. But the times is trying to test how strong we are. I'm starting to wonder as I watch a father break down in tears as he told the story of how he tried to save his family. "I tried all that I can, but I wasn't able to save them," he said. And then he appealed to his father on TV, "please come and help me. I can't take this anymore. I can't do this on my own."</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's frightening what's happening these days. Here in the Network, and in the newsroom, we are exposed to the events of the world. Bad news after bad news. One coming after the other in such a hasty pace. It's so difficult to keep an upright psyche with all of these. Maybe we had all these coming. What goes around comes around, and our planet is tossing our shit back to us. But no matter how you see everyone to be at fault for what's happening, there's nothing you can feel but compassion when you see who reaped what we sowed.</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7831881906072966915.post-41250291531505809502009-09-22T08:37:00.000-07:002010-06-02T08:32:00.457-07:00stay strong, Inang<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Inang</i> is my only surviving grandparent. Cornelia Orpia Ursua is my Mom's mother. <i>Liling</i> to her siblings and her contemporaries, <i>Cory</i> as playfully called by us, her grandchildren, has outlived many including one of her movie idols, FPJ.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Whenever I would see her, <i>Inang</i> often complains to me about the pains of old age. She would often say, "<i>Matay ak san</i>," (I must be dying.) while holding my hand. I would dismiss that and reassure her that she's way too strong for dusk.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lately, she's been in and out of the hospital. Her body is shrinking, as an old lady would. Having difficulty to breathe often. She's long been having her mood swings and difficult behaviors, which some of her children couldn't deal with. Left in this world by <i>Tatay</i> twelve years ago, despite having seven surviving children and a truckload of grandchildren and great grandchildren, I could see that she is lonely most of the time. She often sits in that balcony, looking at nowhere. Watching her children and their children walk in and out of the compound. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My Mom had offered to take her to our home so she could be taken care of very well. One of my aunts even petitioned for her to migrate to the States, but after a month in Texas she couldn't stand it and flew back home. She just couldn't leave that house in Vizcaya. That house that <i>Tatay</i> built. Maybe there is too much memory in it. I, myself, have so much memories in that old house too.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I never had the chance to bond with my lola. As a kid, I only got to see her and <i>Tatay</i> whenever we would visit them from the neighboring province. As a student, I only got to see her during school breaks. Nowadays, I only see her whenever I go home during my vacation leaves. I had more memories of <i>Tatay</i>. He was the more involved grandparent. <i>Inang</i>, back then, was mostly occupied with matters of the household. It shouldn't be, but whenever she holds my hands it feels a bit awkward. It's maybe because I didn't grow up with that. But I just let her hold my hands whenever she finds them. I just let her tell me stories of how things used to be for her. Or tell me over and over how much I've grown, or ask me endlessly why I haven't settled down yet. I think she was bit concerned when she learned that I'm already 30 and still single. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When I asked my Mom how she's doing, Mom said that old age is already taking the best of her. And I knew exactly what my mother meant when she told me that she plans to sleep over at the old house to be with her mother. I hope I could also make the most of the time that could be left for my grandmother. She's like... my remaining connection to the past. Small or big role in my life, she's one of the contributors to this life I'm living. I don't have much memories with my <i>lola</i> - I wish I had - and I wish I could cram (and make it happen as easy as it sounds).</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It pains me to write this. It's like saying goodbye, but memories or no memories, I sure ain't ready to say goodbye to <i>Inang</i>. Writing this is an acknowledgment of what she is in my life. She deserves every bit of gratitude I could give her. Even if in a blog that she could never read.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">With her unstable health, it feels like my world is changing again. It's part of growing up, it's part of growing old. But it's painful.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I hope she gets well - not for my sake, but for her. With all that she's been through bearing and raising nine children and surviving a world war (and the headaches her grandchildren brings), she deserves every happiness she could get from this world. Every drop of it.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div>izewaterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00629091407473870356noreply@blogger.com2