Tag: Mutya

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Finding your own Adonis

Earlier, because of the extreme heat, I was able to consume a lot of fluids. I could feel that my tummy was about to explode. I was afraid. I knew that I was in a state of fluid overload.  I waited for a couple of minutes, just to give time for my body to excrete the large amount of fluid. After I successfully eliminated the fluids, a good friend sent a text message, saying that I need to call him (ASAP).

Because, he is a friend, I immediately called him.

“Mikee, hindi ko na kaya ang stress sa work, punong-puno na ako.”

In my mind, (Am I a member of the Department of Labor and Employment?”) I further explored. I gave no judgement.

“The stress is killing me. I couldn’t sleep. Pati sex life wala!”

“In that last part, I can help you if you want”, I said.

Then he laughed.

He said that calling me, made his day lighter. (Flattered much), I offered a coffee, but he said, he has to go for Sunday worship. I did not insisted.

Back then, I remembered someone. His name is Adonis. He is a hemodialysis nurse. He is a specialized nurse who can pull fluids and wastes from one’s blood.

He knows how filtration works. He knows his limits and goals. When he feels that you are overloaded, he will increase his permeability and blood flow. His hands will manipulate the pressures. You can see the patient’s vital signs improving. You can breathe easily if Adonis is with you in the bedside.

He knows all about the anions and cations. He knows how to infuse positivism and extract negativity from the body. He takes the necessary steps to prevent electrolyte imbalances.

Work and life becomes easier with him. After the day, he smiles and says,

“You are good now, patient is stable. But ensure that you control fluid intake and note the output.”

Yes, our life is full of everyday stress and pressures. We can feel that our efforts are not enough to meet our goals. We fail to satisfy our superiors and in return we feel that we are less—inferior.

Sometimes, you can sense that the sky is falling; you can’t breathe, sleep and have sex.

You need to have an Adonis to absorb and cleanse your system. You need to find that hemodialysis person, who can lighten your load. You need to search for that someone who can help you set the goals and has the balls to say:  “that’s enough,  it damages your system.”

Without this person, you will soon find yourself drowning in an ocean full of expectations and dissatisfaction. We can take so much work to challenge our capabilities but our body and spirit have limits, thus we need support. We need someone who can antagonize the toxins, who can increase our creatinine clearance so that we can freely excrete the excess in our body.

Without your own Adonis, failure is imminent, it can lead to death.

Go find your Adonis.  He is just around!

 

Love,

Mutya

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The other side of LGBT love.

I am a first-hand witness on how their sugary relationship had started.  It was like a fairy tale which I closely tracked for a year and a month, before it finally reaches the season finale. It is disheartening seeing that two heartstrings are disbanded because of physical —————————————-distance.

It was I think, May last year, when I first saw them together.  Upon opening the door of our apartment located at the fourth floor in Makati, I always see their shadows hugging, eating while sharing one spoon, and sometimes giving the other a pleasurable massage. It was like watching the El Gamma Penumbra performing their act of love. Their message to the viewing public—respect the love we have.

In my mind, “what a scene”!

There were times when one prepares the food for the other. Well, during that time, I don’t have someone to pack my own food before I go to hospital. But inside my consciousness, were feelings of happiness and excitement. Imagine, two lovely men could even love and live like real husband and wife. And I was their (yaya).

There is hope in an LGBT relationship. There is an excitement.  I forced myself to believe.

When I and my friend left Makati for Pasig, the sweet relationship continued. It even survived the traffic of EDSA. In fact, they always see each other in SM Megamall where they watch movies together, eat in a pizza parlour, buy couple shirts, beauty products and read some books.  Every time I see them together, even after our exodus from Makati, my faith in love over lust significantly prospers.

Not until today.

Distance and physical absence cut the threads of their love. This news makes me queasy. I am not good in giving advice, especially about love. I want to extend some help but this is not my area of specialty.

LGBT relationships are complex. It has special needs, it is unique.

This is different. Yes, I am a fairy tale lover; I could always visualize the ending.  I am as well a fan of love story movies; I could even predict their script. But aside from these, I am, in my own right, an expert in creating LGBT love stories.

In my composition, I can play with the characters. I can make them have sex inside fully booked in BGC, I can command the characters to have some adventure in Sagada where they eventually found out their sexuality, I can kill a character, I can modify their traits, I can make him fall in love unconditionally.

Despite my passion in writing about homosexuals falling in love and even succeed in having one, (I have an award winning piece which I want to share here soon), I can feel that I am powerless and useless.

Tonight, I want to rewrite their love story, I want to alter the plot, but in reality, though, I want to close the distance, just for my friend to finally be with his lover again, as in tonight, I am not a magician, nor I am not God.

Now, I have no choice but to accept that there is another side of this kind of relationship. Their story goes on a different route as expected, but it’s only time and fate that can predict the finality. Now, I want to see both of them happy, in their own separate ways. I want to bless them with high hopes and positivism that after the rain, a rainbow will appear, and sooner or later, when wounds are already healed, they will face again, hopefully, as stronger characters as before, ready to love again.

Love,

Mutya

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Finding meaning in a doctor’s order.

Her name is Chariza, we commonly call her Doc. Cha. But don’t be fooled by her seemingly kind and uncomplicated name. However,  this is just a veil; a silhouette of her real power.

She can conjure typhoon, she can resurrect the dead, and she can bring out all your fears, in fact, she can destroy or build you.

Yesterday, when I stayed under the rain—wet and tired, I remembered one of my favorite doctors back when I was working in one of the best hospital in the country. Back then, I was assigned to the adult medical intensive care unit. I always want to be in that area of specialization because of the challenge. I want to experience the independence to manipulate equipment, to give high alert medications, to perform CPR, to change diapers every two hours and carry-out unusual orders.  I was very enthralled; finally, I will experience what is written in the books.

I will tell you a specific story, my typical, normal day with doc Cha.

It was my first day without a preceptor. Everyone was very busy that time. Each has to care for two critically-ill patients.  I saw nimbus clouds as she approached me. She immediately opened the chart and wrote a kilometric order. But before that, she asked me.

“Bago ka dito?”

“Yes doc.”, I answered with my gastric contents starting to reflux back to my esophagus. Reality check, it was not heartburn, I am not pregnant, either.  It was anxiety.

Upon sensing my anxiety, she added another kilometer of orders, which you need to carry out within an hour. Because of its impact, I can still fully remember it.

“Turn to sides every 2 hours, apply air mattress, apply anti-embolic stockings, request for Sodium, Potassium, Ionized calcium, magnesium, Renal Panel 2 (erasure), Renal panel 4, Start erceflora, MV shift to SIMV, Sputum GS/CS, Chest XRAY in AM.”

These orders are just part 1 out of 10 for the whole 12 hour shift.

Indeed, Doc Cha is extraordinary. She is a teacher in disguise that every nurse should experience. Despite her everyday terrorism, back in my mind, was a thankful soul. Not everyone has the chance to be stretched into their limits. She sees the resting and hidden potential in every nurse. She believes that in chaos and disorder, knowledge can be derived.

Only with doc Cha, I was able to perform sponge bath continuously until patient is afebrile. I knew it was her own method to teach me that to achieve a certain goal; you need to do it, continuously.

Her favorite was to order chest x-ray  as in (now), but every chest x-ray, bedside CT scan, I got the chance also to examine what is inside my chest— my heart. There were times, when she asked me if what is more important, the heart or the brain?

I knew that for her, it is always the heart.

When I knock on her room, her typical response.

“Sandali lang Mikee, I’m praying.”

When everyone, is saying no pulse, she replies, “Meron pa!”

When everyone is hungry, she orders a pizza.

She is optimistic, she is active, and she doesn’t sleep.

Every time I feel very tired and with feelings of retreat or surrender, I always think of the days when I sat on the floor, during at the end of my shift, counting the gauze and bandages, perspiring, , hypoglycemic, knees trembling, waiting for Berns, Nash or Jervie, but, more importantly, smiling, savoring the victory from a well fought day. I would look at her, and say.

 

“Salamat sa Diyos!”

Her reply: “May bukas pa.”

Then laughter fills the cold and tensed unit.

 

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The Miriam inside of me.

When I was little, every time someone bullies or hurts me, without second thoughts, I would look at that person from head to toe, and admonish them in the presence of other students who are eating their packed lunches.

I became notorious for using fiery words during my elementary and high school, even until my college days though I became a bit demure and meek. My inspiration and model back then was Senator Miriam Defensor-Santiago.

Let me tell you a story.

I was in Grade 3 when I first ran as a Senator in our class elections. My adversaries back then were from Grades 5 to 6. I was the youngest and the smallest at that time—perhaps due to malnutrition. Thus, I was the last candidate to deliver my platform. I told the electorate:

“Behold, promises are made to be broken. I am asking the sky now to hit my opponents with lighting, if they are lying.”

Then a lightning struck, disturbing the solemnity of the miting de avance. On the next day, I found out that I won.  Again, my inspiration then was Sen. Miriam Defensor-Santiago.

Even during the toughest times, my faith to the Lady Senator did not falter. When there’s no food to eat, I think of it as a sign of climate change affecting food security. When there’s no electricity in our house, I think of it as a manifestation of the government’s incompetence in addressing energy problems. We seriously didn’t have proper supply of electricity until I graduated from high school.  Despite all of these, I know that Sen. Miriam was with me—pushing me to study harder and not surrender.

Here’s another story.

I was ambitious, that’s why when I was in high school, I ran as President despite contradictions because I was only in my sophomore year. There were three of us competing for the highest position in the school. I was afraid then; I was still the smallest and the thinnest. But I saw Sen. Miriam in the horizon.

I knew I needed to win.

It was a bloody speech.

At the end of the canvassing of votes, I was proclaimed President. I know that it was Sen. Miriam who made me win. However, just to note, it was my friend Alfred Dicto who became the Fidel Ramos of my life, defeating me in my second attempt for re-election.

For sure, without Sen. Miriam in my head, I wouldn’t be able to surpass all the trials in my life. She was the only person—despite the absence of many—who remained at my side. I even memorized all her speeches and I impersonate her perfectly, gaining awards by doing so.

Why am I doing this?

I already learned my lessons. Before I pursued development work, I was a nurse, taking care of critically-ill patients. I have witnessed both life and death almost every day. I learned that while you still have the chance, go and say your piece—do it now, because time is a bitch. Today, you could be sleeping in bed; tomorrow, you could be inside a coffin.

My dad passed away last year due to lung cancer, just two hours before I reached home. It was the most painful experience I’ve ever had. In my hand during that time was a poem. I wrote it while I was en route to Iloilo. I never had the chance to hug him. I failed to deliver the best care for him.

This time, I don’t know how, but I want to care for Sen. Miriam. Not only because she is a previous Senator, but because she is someone who influenced me in so many ways. I want to give her the most meticulous care she deserves. I will provide her adequate oxygenation like how she provided life and excitement in the Senate. I will monitor her electrolytes, like how she monitored the financial spending of our country. Feed her if necessary, like how she fed students with wisdom. Give her bed bath, like how she made “sabon” corrupt public officials during hearings.

And once she is already comfortable, I want to read the Constitution to her, before she sleeps.

I may be sad right now, praying ardently that the Lady Senator will soon fully recover. That God will help her because she contributed a lot to this country.

Nevertheless, I know inside of me that the Miriam spirit will always be alive—burning like a torch, ready to share the fire with everyone else.

I hope that my little story will reach you, Madam. Like how you touched my life back when I was in Grade 3.

Thank you so much.

Love,

Mutya

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Reform Education now.

He eagerly and exhaustively told me his everyday struggle as a teacher in a public school in Metro Manila. I was eating cold, hard rice coupled with Pinaksiwan na bangus, but his narration is much harder to swallow.

“It is not a joke to be a teacher”, he said. I could not distinguish if it was a signal of anguish or desperation. I continued to listen.

“There are 11,000 students in our school, 60 students per section, there are 30 sections.”

Bangus halted in the middle of my esophagus. I grabbed and swiftly sipped a cold water from my James Reid glass.

“Because of the scarcity of rooms, our school don’t even have a library.”

“Kulang din ang upuan.”, he added

I stopped from chewing the talbos ng kamote. I looked at him in the eye.

“In my class, out of 60, only 5 pay attention.”

Ernie is only one of the hundreds of thousands of Filipino teachers who are suffering from severe educational depression and suppression.  The problem can be viewed in two ways:

One, is the amount of students. The government funds allotted for education is not enough to provide quality education for students. We are pushing that every child should receive proper education but how can you provide an acceptable quality education in a 60:1 ratio? In a school without a library? With teachers whose salaries cannot feed their own children? What if we educate only the deserving, striving students and let those who are idle to enroll in private schools and pay for their own tuition? There must be a distinction and limit here, to save the greater majority we need to do some adjustments. People’s taxes should educate deserving and potentially good students only, educating the otherwise in unwise spending.

Two, our teachers. In order, to drive the best from each student we need teachers who are passionate and driven enough to inspire his/her students.  With the present set-up, It seems that politics and nepotism are in effect vs. the core competency of the individual. Each teacher should teach a subject closest to his/heart, brain and soul. Increase the salary of those who are performing well, promote those who are exceptional irregardless of age or sex.

These problems are multi-dimensional. What we need is a reform in our educational system. Consider education as a privilege and not a right. I don’t know on how to solve this, but the departments involved should start on actively listening to the younger generation. The educational system should evolve.

All our country’s problem are rooted from poor education, there is no change if we continue with this framework.

Sad to say, if I have to give an oral recitation and performance grade to government agencies involved, It would really hurt me if I will give a passing grade.

It’s time to send  to your principal, division superintendent and Department of Education heads their report class cards showing their  grades, with the remark:

Pagbutihin sana sa susunod na pasukan.  

 

 

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Mag-BLOG like Judy

Uupo siya sa harap ng computer, tapos maririnig ko na lang ang kumakaripas niyang mga daliri. Mabilis ang pagtype niya ng mga salita. Tanging paglunok lang ng laway ang kanyang pahinga. Tatayo siya, tapos pupunta sa water dispenser at iinom ng malamig na tubig. Susulat ulit. Lulunok ng laway. Iuunat ang hita. Tatayo. Water dispenser. Inom ng malamig na tubig.

“Kung blogger ka, hindi ka napapagod.”, iyan ang sabi ni Ate Judy sa akin.

Tuwing break niya sa trabaho ay nagsusulat ito ng mga bagong blog. Noong nakaraang taon ay sumikat ang blog niya na “Date a girl who rides the MRT.” Ito ay nalathala sa mga malalaking network. Ito ay isang rebolusyon para kalampagin ang inutil na sistema ng MRT/LRT sa kalahkang Maynila.

Nakikita ko kay Ate Judy si Jose Rizal, bagamat mahinhin ito sa paggalaw, ngunit ang talas at gilas ng mga salita ay kayang impluwensiyahan ang mga tao. Hindi bala kundi labanan ng tinta.

Si Judy Santiago ay isa lamang sa mga blogger na walang pagod sa pagbabahagi ng kanilang mga saluobin sa mga isyu na hinaharap ng lipunan. Tinatayang may 25,000 bloggers sa Pilipinas.

Pero bakit hindi natin sila marinig?

Bukod sa mahina at mahal na internet koneksyon, ay walang opportunidad para mapabuti ng mga bloggers ang kanilang mga angking kakayahan. Naiipit sila sa mga malalaki at nag-uunpugang mga websites at blogs na nagbebenta ng sabon at kung ano-ano pa. Walang batas o regulasyon din na nagpapakilala sa kanila bilang mga importanteng myembro ng lipunan na may maitutulong sana lalong-lalo na sa larangan ng komunikasyon. Hindi naman siguro masakit kung merong Blog consciousness month, o blogging act of the Philippines.

Kung magagamit ng maayos ang blogging sa Pilipinas ay malaki ang maitutulong nito para maabot ng ating bansa ang mga magagandang hangarin nito. Sa pamamagitan ng blog ay maihahatid natin ang mga makabuluhang mga isyu. Maipapakita natin ang ating demokrasya sa pamamagitan ng blogging.

Ngunit walang magagawa ang mga kagaya ni Judy sa ngayon.

Ipapagpatuloy niya pa din ang pagbabantay sa mga nangyayari sa Maynila. Isusulat niya pa din kung paano malugmok at mahipuan ang mga babae sa MRT at kung paano nawawala ang moral at galang ng mga kabataan tuwing nag-aagawan ng masasakyan pauwi.  Dahil kung ititigil niya ito, tuluyan ng lulutang ang kasinungalingan at panlilinlang, hihina nang hihina ang boses ng mga karaniwang tao.

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Paano makakuha ng True Love sa Pasig Mega Market

May nagtext, sabi niya bakit hindi ka na nagsusulat sa brightgays. I told him, “I don’t have any inspiration to write.

Medyo napatagal ang reply niya.

“Open your FB messenger.”, reply niya.

Binuksan ko naman ito at yun, lumabas ang picture niya.

Nakita ko ang Saturn, Uranus, Neptune at Pluto. Pumasok ulit ang kapangyarihan sa aking katawan. Kaya ito na susulat na ako ulit para sa mga tagasubaybay ng Brightgays.

Kahit favourite ko yung eleksyon at mga anik-anik sa politika, I will put this on the sidelines for now. This week we will explore the mysteries of the Pasig Market and how will you find meaning and love on it. Hali ka, tuklasin natin ang Pasig Palengke, ang isa sa pinakamalaking public market sa Maynila.

Ang aking  araw ay hindi kompleto kung hindi ako makakadaan sa Pasig Palengke. Ito ay compulsory para makadating sa bahay. Bagamat naiinis minsan dahil sa masangsang nitong amoy ay may mga araw ding nasisiyahan ako.

Sino-sino ang makikita sa Pasig Palengke?

Mga bruskong lalaki sa Meat Section:

Pagpasok mo sa Palengke ay makikita mo ang nagbebenta ng karne.  Kung gusto mong makakita ng mga macho at naghuhubaran na mga kalalakihan ay ito ang section na para sa inyo. Pero walang nakabra dito. Usually, ang men to women ratio sa meat section ay 9:1. Ito ay nagpapakita lang na kung karne ang pinag-uusapan unang-una ang mga lalaki. Katulad ng pag-ibig, mag-ingat ka, dahil minsan akala mo sariwa ang karne yun pala ay double dead na, sawi, naghihintay lang ng may bibili, mura, at nakakamatay. Pero huwag kang magkamali dahil matalim ang kutsilyo ng mga lalaki sa meat section. Makamandag sila.

Mga maiingat na kamay ng mga lalaki sa vegetable section:

Dito mo makikita ang mga lalaking nagbebenta ng samot saring mga gulay. Patok na patok dito ang talong, upo, sitaw at iba pa. Kung laki at haba ang batayan mo sa pag-ibig, dito ka sa vegetable section. Sabihin mo ang laki at haba na gusto mo at ibibigay nila. Napapasaya ka ba sa haba at laki ng isang pag-iibigan? Ang mga lalaki dito ay mahinhin, ang mga kamay ay maingat dahil ayaw nilang masugatan ang mga dahon at gulay. Minsan may kamahalan lang ang mga gulay nila.

Mga matatamis na ngiti ng mga lalaki sa fruit Section:

O, ngayon, kung wala pa din kayong napupusuan ay punta na tayo sa fruit section. Ito ang isa sa mga malini sa section sa pasig. Dito yata maraming mga lalaki na nakapormada, nakapaligo at mababango. Makikilala mo sila kung nakangiti sila paparating ka pa lang. Sasabihan ka na matamis ang pag-ibig nila yun pala hilaw pa. May iba naman na sasabihan ka na special ang prutas yun pala galing lang sa bakuran lang nila. Matatamis magsalita ang mga nasa Fruit section kaya pisilin niyong mabuti at maging mabusisi sa pagpili ng mga prutas. Tandaan baka artificial ang ginamit na pampahinog dito.

Iyan ang tatlo sa mga lalaki na nakilala ko sa Pasig Mega Market. May mga myembro naman ng minority block sila ang :

mga nagtitinda ng buko juice na nagpapakitang gilas sa pagbalat ng buko, pero minsan mas maraming tubig gripo Vs tubig galing sa buko,

ang mga lalaki na nagtitinda ng damit pambabae, kahit hindi bagay at maganda sa iyo ay ipipilit talaga,

ang lalaki na nagbebenta ng bigas, maraming brand, may sticky, clingy rice, meron namang mumurahin na tumitigas habang tumatagal, may black rice, may mabangong rice,

may mga lalaki ding nagbebenta ng halo-halo na pati pawis niya ay nagiging sahog na sa paninda,

at may mga lalaki na nagbebenta ng plastic kahit pinagbabawal na.

Ngayon, ipinakita ko sa inyo ang Pasig Mega Market sa ibang perspektibo. Oo, mabaho ito pero ito ang katotohanan, ang mundo at buhay ng tao ay hindi mabango sa lahat ng panahon. We have our own taste kung ano ang nakakahiligan mong kainin.

Karne ba? Gulay? Prutas? Buko Juice? Platic?

(This article is part of Mutya Perspective- using new lenses to ordinary things and events.)