PAIN MY STRENGTH. (a must-read)

Today’s December 27, 2010. The memory’s still fresh, like it happened only yesterday. I was at Chong Hua Hospital, 12 in the afternoon, busily typing long messages in my hand phone with tears rolling down from my eyes.  “ I ‘m giving up. I do not know what have I done to her to treat me like this! I am going home right now and I will leave my duty.”

-December 13, 2010.

 People were staring at me; doctors, nurses, and some, strangers. My heart was filled with so much pain and hate that not a tiny part of it I had ever felt before.  I talked to my friend and told her the accusations someone brought me. I had often seen that person’s evil eyes scrutinizing every part of my being, yet, she have found out things I am not made of. I began dialing another set of numbers after that talk. “Mam? She’s accusing me of watching that concert you had last Friday. Why is she doing this to me? ”. I was speaking to my dearest friend and sister in so many times.  “I will leave the hospital right now, I can no longer bear the pain mam, and I am not feeling good about this!” The feeling was hovering my entire being, I could no longer think clearly, and all I was seeing were the tears filling up my both eyes. I never cried so horribly my whole life.

I had to find her. The building was so huge that I found my way running up and down hoping to catch a shadow of my instructor. I went up again to see if she was there, no, not even a single trace. I couldn’t leave right away, that would be abandonment of duty. Almost an hour had passed and we all went downstairs to do our final circle, she never returned from a lunch break that would normally cost us 30 minutes. She was gone for an hour and a half.  My sight caught her, but my feet wouldn’t let me go near her post, nevertheless, I had to, I must. I silently approached her and asked permission for me to go ahead among the other students, and unsurprisingly, she didn’t give me the grant. I was even more humiliated in front of everyone; well, if she had realized that one. At that moment, I was filled with hurt, rage, and, disrespect. I was supposed to see our level chairman (per instruction by the dean) after our duty but my mind was getting weaker just as my heart did, even triple times.

I went to a place where no one can ever find me, I traveled to another where none of them can ever see me crying, and stayed there for so long. I was crying my heart out, no longer answering everyone’s calls. My spirit was dampened that I was close to being insane. I began telling everyone to leave me alone, even my own mother. I haven’t realized I was already asleep in that prayer room for 4 hours and tears were drying out my face. I checked my phone and saw a bunch of text messages from friends, clinical instructors, and from my mom. Then, something suddenly came into me; it somehow enlightened my soul, and made me walk out of the room. I went again to a place where I and my friend would often talk of matters of the heart; anything under the moonlight. There I saw myself lying down the huge ground and silently crying again. However, those were tears of strength, no longer pain nor weakness. I had to face her, I had to make her realize her mistakes, and I needed to make her feel the pain she had caused me. It was not proper of me to think that way, but who could have blame me? When a person’s dignity is being stepped on or when you feel so humiliated without knowing your lapses, wouldn’t you feel the same?  I wouldn’t deny, I HATED her so much!!

“Les, your mother is waiting for you at home, she’s crying so hard and she wants to see you now”. I was awakened by this message from a person whom I had pained so much too. I walked hurriedly away from the oval and took a cab on my way home. I saw my mother crying and hugging me so tight when I arrived. I was speechless for a while and I could no longer voice out everything. Pain was still inside my heart, I realized.  I talked to my mother and narrated everything.

****A RECALL*****

December 9, 2010.  I was given a chance to talk to the right person, the one in authority to hear my concerns, and understand what I was going through. She was of great help. She told me to come out of the dungeon where I was hiding and to write everything in pen and paper. Not that I am the editor in Chief of Penlight, the urgency just came out from within a person who deserves a little of what we call respect. After hearing all that has happened and after the outpour of pain in my heart, the tightness was at least loosened out.

December 10, 2010. My mother’s birthday and the final day of the Breakout Concert. I was at home, not having plans of going on duty, decided to face my laptop, and scribbled down through the letters on my keyboard. My hands found its way into my mind, my spirit was suddenly uplifted, and my heart was shouting out all the worries, all the pains, and all the devastations. At 2pm, the 8-page letter was done and was finally ready to be dished out to everyone. I went to school at 3, processed my letter of absence, and left my masterpiece on her table. I was shaking, I couldn’t identify where was the fear coming, but, I was pretty sure I had to fight what’s in my heart.

If you’re wondering a lot about the letter, I may perhaps give you just the excerpts,  for the benefit of your curiosity as well.

(The 4^th paragrapgh)

March of 2008, it was several months to go and I would finally be in my junior year in college, but, I was diagnosed with Hepatitis B that it left me with no choice but to rest. I was getting weaker each day, and my body could no longer compensate the demands of my daily activities. My classmates were a lot worried about me, my clinical instructors wanted me to fight and go on in the battlefield. But, I decided to stay at home for the next 365 days. A year had passed since that very day I stepped out of the campus; I asked myself if I’m still fitted to go on with the course. I wanted to shift to a new direction in life, but, my mindset of stopping from what I thought I wasn’t good at ended the moment when each of my clinical instructors made me realize the value of becoming a registered nurse someday. A nurse in my perspectives is someone who cares every aspect of humanity and will not break any part of it.

I am not writing this one with a heart to inform anyone any aspect of hate or revenge to what my TEACHER has brought me. Memories are what make us as a person, either good or bad, what’s important is we learned from our mistakes and mishaps. However, the most unbearable feeling is when we get hurt without giving recognition to what has led a painful situation to take place. I had been hurt so many times, and certainly, we all do. We make mistakes, we fall, we get hurt, and we hurt others as well. Yet, what has happened to me recently made me open my eyes to the reality that there are persons bound to hurt us in the most unexplainable way.

DECEMBER 7, 2010 was the right moment for us to execute our knowledge and skills learned for the past 3 years of our nursing study.

                “I do not want any familiarity between you and your clinical instructors, regardless of any personal attachment you may have with them”. She was looking directly into my eyes. At that moment, I have had mixed thoughts, was it half or fully meant?

                I had 10 patients to handle. I needed to do NGT feeding, Tracheostomy care, suctioning, and more. It was clear to me that I was the PCI for a number of students, so, I had to attend to their concerns. I didn’t complain and I didn’t dare ask her why the task wasn’t equally distributed. Perhaps, at the back of my mind, it was just a coincidence. For some, it would have been injustice.

DECEMBER 8, 2010. Teacher’s Day.

               

On Teacher’s Day, I was there 7am. I had specific duties being part of the Nursing Student Body Organization. I sent messages to several of my group mates asking them about the venue of our morning circle. But, no one dared to make a reply. With my own initiative, I went straight up to the 5^th floor to see our clinical instructor for fear that I might be marked late or absent. When I took a glimpse of her inside the faculty room, I silently approached her and asked if I could have my attendance checked. I was surprised when I heard these words, “Mao na siya nga studyante ay”. Yes, she was looking at me.

  Then, she told me to look for my other group mate who was bringing the attendance sheet. So, I followed. When I was done affixing my signature, I was surprised when my group leader informed me that our instructor wanted to see me again. She was so furious about my improper attire. I got nervous that I had to go directly inside the faculty room. She has just come out of our level chairman’s cubicle and I asked her why she wanted to talk to me. “NGANONG NAG BLACK T-SHIRT MAN KA MISS PINO??. I was startled by her tone of voice, but, I had to compose myself and answer appropriately. “Miss, I was here early to prepare for the event. This is also our attire as part of the NSBO team. But, I brought a white shirt, I will change lang miss”.  But she never heard anything and went on blathering at me in front of so many people, INCLUDING CLINICAL INSTRUCTORS AND STUDENTS. I felt HUMILIATED. I hid at one corner, I had to breathe so deep, and gather back my thoughts.

(To explain:  when I had a talk with the instructor, she quoted that she wasn’t shouting at me, and even asked me why would I feel humiliated? She told me this : “dili gyud ko ganahan nimo Miss Pino, presko kayo kah. And you’re too much close to your clinical instructors, you’re even manipulating them. So, you mean to say nga gi humiliate tika? In what way? Maybe you are not used to being reprimanded by your clinical instructors lang maong naka ingon ka ana”.  Miss, if there were instances that I had manipulated my instructors, I could have seen myself sitting in front of the disciplinary team, and would you think “competent and intellectual” persons would choose to be manipulated? I had been reprimanded so many times in my life miss, BUT NOT IN THE MOST HUMLIATING WAY. Yes, I am also very close to a handful of clinical instructors, but, not that I had asked too much from them nor had I stepped beyond our boundaries. If you may not know about this, I had been a class president for 5 terms, one reason why most of my teachers recognize me. Within those times, I had fought so much for a lot of persons. Even to the point of losing my own identity as a person. I might have decided wrongly when I went to Mam Piluchi over a very minute matter between an instructor of ours against my entire class, but, I learned from my decisions. Mam Piluchi’s words were engraved in my heart that each time I had the toughest problems to face, it was her I would confide on. She reminded me to have a heart that judges well. 

I had to be strong. It was Teacher’s Day and I still had a very long day to go. But the pain hiding inside was unbearable, so, I went out of the campus and cried my heart out. I was so glad that one of my advisers went with me to give comfort. At 10am that same day, I went in the quadrangle for the event was to begin. I worked myself so hard to forget what had happened. I laughed with my co-officers and I even executed some of the games we prepared for the teachers. Rain poured, yet, we were still there, trying to impart our tribute and send our love to those very special persons who have molded us through the years. That was on a TEACHER’S DAY, the very day when A TEACHER HAS BROKEN MY HEART.

I was also shocked to have known that one of my dearest friends who’s now abroad and an alumna of the same college suffered POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER because of the same clinical instructor. He was spending his in-house review last year, when his surrogate parents have witnessed his struggles and even called our NSBO adviser to help them manage him. He would curse, cry, and he went wild every time he remembered the horrible incidents. A classmate of him asked, “when will you get through this?”..”Ma heal ra ko kung mamatay to nga ci!!”, was all he had answered. He’s MARK GILBERT MILALLOS. With those words, it suddenly came into me that I was not alone all along. I guess there were a number of us who went into the same trauma. There’s ate MINERVA GOZON, an alumna as well. She was filled with anger when she heard of my pain, and also shared her story of humiliation. “DILI MAN KA MA R.N KAY BOGO MAN KA!” Can you just imagine your teacher telling this to you? In front of the entire hospital staff! Perhaps, she would be surprised to know that ate Minet is now a FULLY REGISTERED NURSE!

Well, I wasn’t that bad too. I gave the instructor a chance for her to explain the problems she has with me. It was a one-hour talk that ended with more HURT and more humiliation. Half of me regretted the decision of talking to her, yet, another half felt fulfilled for clearing out the real score. As a student, I also hear a lot of comments, all of which were filled with words that might have ruined her dignity as a person. But, I never judge instantly. I treated her just as how a student should treat her teacher. I had maintained the respect that I assume everybody needs. I truly respected her. Nevertheless, SHE IS WELL-KNOWN TO MANY AS A TEACHER WHO IS INCONSDIERATE, WHO WILL NEVER CHOOSE ANY PLACE OR TIME; IF SHE’S FURIOUS ABOUT YOUR ACTIONS, SHE WOULD REALLY SHOUT ON YOUR FACE. All of us felt FEAR. I am also certain that a lot of graduating students also feels the same. I even encountered one of my classmates telling me how shame ate him when the instructor reprimanded him in front of the nursing staff in the same institution. I also had a talk to a friend who told me he almost gave up his course because of the same instructor again. All of them, I may say, experienced the same, but NONE, showed up and complained because of FEAR.

These incidents might be simple matters to everyone, perhaps, of no importance. To me, and to all those students who have experienced the same fate, it is a big challenge. It is a challenge that every individual in our institution feared to act upon. I am not speaking for myself alone, but, I am shouting this one out in behalf of the nursing alumni, who in their fresh years of dwelling in UC, have experienced the same terror as mine. The instructor has left me a scar. She has brought me hate that up until now I am fighting against it inside. It is the humiliation that truly stabbed me; it is the lost respect.

DECEMBER 15, 2010. CONFERENCE with HR head, our beloved dean, level chairaman, SAO Director, my mother, and ME.

                She arrived first in the President’s Office. I was with my mother sitting outside the room when our SAO director welcomed us. We were let in first while she was asked to remain outside. I was told to state everything that happened between us. I looked into the lawyer’s eyes, and with confidence in my voice, I started narrating all the incidents. I knew my mother was crying. In my mind I said, “I have to do this Ma, she has to be dealt with”. Word for word, I spoke with strength and vigor to gain justice. It was a very emotional and meaningful talk, moreover, the conversation was full of truth. Our Dean was looking at me, just as our SAO director, and never was an instance had I looked away. In my heart, I need not be afraid, for I know I was speaking nothing but the relevance of the facts.

                After almost an hour, it was her turn. She went in and we left her inside. I could clearly hear her loud voice banging in the four corners of the room. Then, I heard our Dean, and the atty. explaining something which I could no longer grasp. Earlier, I was asked by both of them if I’m ready to face the instructor, and I said yes, and with so much desire in my heart, “I AM READY TO FACE HER ATTY”, I spoke. I found myself seated from afar. My mother was beside me while the instructor was at another corner. The Dean re-stated all the statements I wrote and validated if all of those were true. I never thought twice, ALL THOSE THINGS STIPULATED IN MY LETTER TOOK PLACE, WERE SAID, AND WASN’T JUST MADE UP.

                “Lamia nimo mo himo og storya Miss Pino oy!” Everyone was looking at her now. I wasn’t terrified, and besides, I had gotten used to her IMPROPER MANNERS. “Calm down Ma’am, this is her letter, you let her explain first”, the Atty. tried to compose her. So, I went on re-stating some lines. And again she stood, “That girl is making stories!” she said it in a high tone. “Ma’am, she is not a visitor, her name is Lesley, she is not that girl”, Ma’am Dean spoke. I was also stretching my patience and trying to control myself as much as I could. I had to respect her still and I should remember that I was there to explain, not to begin an uneducated battle. She was also given the chance to speak. I was no longer surprised when she denied some of my written statements, and she even told me I was exaggerating the events. She wasn’t that observant to have realized her actions. “You could have brought your notebook so everybody may see that you were not complying your requirements,” she told me. “Ma’am, the student doesn’t have the appetite to work on her requirements because of the problem you both have”, our level chairman explained. The instructor answered, “Aw, iyaha sad na! Kay sa ako wala ra gyud, she’s making all the fuss”.  “Aw di bah, kay lain-lain baya ta ninyo,” our chairman answered back. As I was listening to the conversation, I told myself, “Is she always like this? She never listens to people. I wonder who she is at home or how did she even rear up her own children”. I was judgmental at the moment, but, I had to resist my emotions.

                She also mentioned, “I asked their group leader to check the attendance during the concert and told him to see if Ms. Pino was around”. Why would she want to find out if I was present during the concert? Anyway, she might have been OVERLY CARING or she was just being a plain INVESTIGATOR. I was a little bit surprised when Ma’am Dean asked her, “Ma’am, why is it that you assigned the group leader to check the attendance? Where were you during the concert?”. “I went outside together with another clinical instructor ma’am”, she answered.

                Later, I found out that the act was pure “abandonment of duty”. She left her students inside the coliseum and went out with several clinical instructors. She has her own reasons, “That was an honest to goodness mistake ma’am, I gave them a chance since they were telling me they were very sleepy and decided to watch the 6:30 pm show”. That wasn’t the point. She should have been watching them the whole time, checking whether her students were still there or not, but, she wasn’t found inside.

To explain: Now, can you tell me ma’am who’s abusing her power? Can you tell me what’s right and what’s not? Even you yourself cannot distinguish which is proper. I wasn’t assuming anything, but, you admitted your inactions. IT WAS VERY CLEAR MA’AM, YOU ADMITTED YOR INACTIONS. You even insulted Ma’am Dean, in front everyone. Our eyes and ears weren’t covered; we heard all the words coming out from your mouth. We heard EVERYTHING.

                “Bahalag I terminate ko ninyo after Christmas!”, she shouted. “Ma’am nganong naka ingon man ka nga I terminate ka namo? Dili man na mao ang reason nga naa ta diri”, Ma’am Dean answered. Then, she said, “I know you will file all those papers against me!” I was just listening to their argument, thinking how to begin an interaction, and how to start saying the words in my mind. I chose to remain silent. The instructor was very mad at that moment.

                After 4 hours, we had to settle down and decide. I was still hurting inside, I must admit. I didn’t know where the confidence came but I spoke to them these words, “I do not want to challenge anyone of you inside this room, but, ONE HAS TO GO. If she will not, then, I will withdraw myself from the institution.” I saw the reaction on Ma’am Dean’s face, but, it was what I truly felt. I could not stand seeing the instructor inside the campus for I had so many things to handle and I fear that my responsibilities may end up undone because of her presence.  Our level chairman talked to me. She made me realize that it was indeed a challenge for me to face the painful experience, yet, I have to remain strong. I am on the brink of graduating from my course and it would not be the right time to give up.

Acceptance was a fact I had to face. If indeed my actions showed motives of too much closeness to my clinical instructors, it shouldn’t be her problem; it should have been the primary concern of the clinical instructor herself. And if any case it was, she could have talked to me privately. None of my positions in school gave me the privilege to act differently or to abuse any power vested on me, because I am just like any ordinary student.

The oppression has got to end. She has ruined my dignity as a person; she has destroyed a part of me, and had once made me thought of stopping. I humbled myself amidst the confrontation, amidst the hurting words. All her students need is for her to reach out with an open heart. I pray to the Lord that she may realize the value of being a teacher to her students, a teacher who’s not just the director, but one who can also be the actor. We may have different principles in life, but whatever she’s got, I hope it would be for the benefit of her learners. We are called learners because we are made to be formed. Being a clinical instructor for so many years, she has formed her students in many different ways. I am unfortunate to have been formed by her in the wrong way just as the other hundreds of students who are still battling against the shame she has instilled in them. As I always say, HUMILIATION IS NEVER A SOLUTION TO A PERSON’S MISTAKE, may it be the most unforgiving.

I always treasured my clinical instructors. I was once given a chance to teach, way back 2 years ago. It happened when I joined CWTS Facilitator’s League, I was 17, yet, I felt the feeling of being a TEACHER. At a very young age, I learned how to deal with students from different walks of life. I learned how patience works, how much I needed to exert effort on everything that I wished to do, and above all, I taught myself how to stay flexible at any given circumstance. I always believed that our dreams as individuals begin with our mentors; they are one of those persons who would ultimately mold us to step into the next plateau of our lives.

Practicing Clinical Instructor was all I have waited. I always loved guiding, teaching, and leading people. However, the exposure will only remind me of the hurt my teacher has brought me. My last year in UC is so much filled with colors. Those are colors that represented love, hate, friendship, and forgiveness. A single incident almost ruined everything, almost destroyed my dreams of becoming the person I wanted to be.

I actually do not know how to end this post, but, to everyone, I just want to leave you this short, yet, inspiring message: “When someone tells lies or stories about you, of course, your ears aren’t covered, but what comes into your ears shouldn’t directly hit your heart. You are bound to hear but not often to listen; You are bound to listen but not often to feel. Life has its subconscious aspects that are left untouched for so many years, but, time has its way of telling us that there are things we need to experience, and that the best way to overcome those is to remain in the face of truth and justice.”

Me? I wasn’t that brave at all or brilliant, I WAS JUST BEING TRUE.

*I may learn how to forgive but not this soon. All my life, I had been facing the reality of not having a father by my side, not even seeing his shadow. However, I had forgiven him long time ago. In this fresh situation with my educator, it may take a while before I could get through everything. Today is December 30, 2010, I will pray to the Lord that He may enlighten my soul to lead me into a heart of forgiveness. In time, I might see myself smiling at her, but, as of this moment, I AM NOT CERTAIN.

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Success for my mother..

"When her baby cries, she hurries to make a bottle of milk. She cuddles him hard to lighten up a smile. Everyday, her mind and her body builds fatigue without complaining. "For my child", she says. Her shoulders are strong to carry, and her hand is wide open for a magic touch only a mother could do."

When I was a little child, about 4 or 5, my mama was away. Distance was the hardest. Well, I couldn't blame her for wanting to provide everything that I needed. She was a baker, not a typical one for me. My mom cooked well; from filipino to american dishes. At one point of my life, I had forgotten a part her. I called my aunt sally "mama" (my mom's look-a-like), sometimes I called my mom "auntie". Sort of confusing though coz i never got to see both of them often. My grandma took my mom's place for quite some time and my grandpa was always a father figure to me. Mama went home once a week. She used to bring me clothes to wear, food that I had to share with friends, and those little things a lil girl needs.

There came a time when my mom was to marry someone new, drastically 'new' to me. It was like a heavy blow on my grandma's part. She went into a process of getting-used-to no longer being with me. The new family I was into had to travel thousands of miles away from my hometown..I struggled to adjust and embrace a new living. As I was growing, my entire family always tell me this: "You're like an old woman trapped in that tiny lady's body".. Haha! I didn't fully understood what was that all about not until I turned 12 or something. I spoke like an old woman, i acted like one, and I think like I lived for a century. They used to give me candies and jellys in replacement for my service of course: I needed to sing my spanish song!.  I can still recall the exact words of that very precious creation. It was a living resemblance of my grandma's love for me. "y jano es tas masa me lado corazon" (pls bear with the spelling)..

It only took us about a year and a half in the states. We decided to travel back and start a new living where our hearts truly belong. Not long enough, my mama and my stepdad filed for a divorce. I was glad back then. Our was house constantly banged and echoed with voices, shouting and screaming. They have never gotten well with each other months after their marriage and never been into a progress. Funny to say that during my commencement exercises, I had to choose between the two. Who would climb up on stage and who's going to sit down and watch. I had to transfer from my school in the urban to the very little rural school in our province. My mama had to make the toughest decision, to stay with him or to let go. And she chose the latter. I'm as well glad she did the right thing. I was then reared in a catholic school. During my freshman year, I was a total pain in the ass.! I never followed instructions given to me; well; I had my own  set of rules of course. I was good in english, and I wouldn't brag, because it's the only subject I got interested to. My teacher would suddenly call me in the middle of the street andmade me hurry because an essay contest was about to begin. Or my classmates would chase me outside the campus to get back because we had no representative for the poster-making contest. oho! Apparently, I always got into our class ranking. The strong spirit never left me, though, at times I was reprimanded. I was never stubborn, I only had this feeling that we all deserve justice and fairness by all means. So, when my teacher would tell me, "Lesley, you clean the female comfort room, that's your punishment for being 10 minutes late." I just smiled and turned my back after she spoke, as if I never heard anything. Why on earth would she command me to do such thing? If she tells me otherwise to say sorry or sit down outside until the lecture's done, I wouldn't have to think twice.Well, they all got used to "me" being "me". They never ever have seen me failing my grades nor ignoring my responsibilities in school. Just don't step on me. I have had a bunch of friends, well of course, I didn't know who among them remained true to my back, but, they definitely made my HS life worthwhile, including my class advisers. They molded me to be where I am now. They were mothers who gave me pieces of advice when I felt so desperate after minute failures. They helped me walk the through the long journey. I graduated with honors and my graduation day was a memorable one. With all the support coming from my Mother, my advisers, and my closest friends, I managed to pull the strings and made it to the end.

College life was never an easy one. I had faced those thick-paged books, joggled over the NCP's, memorized every bone there is in our skeletal system, or even learned how to perform the simple hand washing technique.Nursing was never part of my historical nor my futuristic plans. For the benefit of being so "dirty", I say dirty because I was never organized with my things, it was destiny who brought me into a field that would teach me a lot! A part from being clean now of course, I am slightly "organized". Of all, I learned how to manage my time very well. Time is your number one enemy in nursing, except if your born naturally "lazy".  I was glued on being a class president for a number of terms, I joined CWTS Facilitator's league, and became part of the NSBO.At the end of my second year, my health was not doing good and I had to rest for a while. Actually, it wasn't just a while. The whole 365 days made me MORE SICK! But, I recovered though. I came back and went through a lot of responsibilities again. I thought I had escaped those, but, being wrong sometimes hurts. NSBO is something I considered a life beyond just being an ordinary student.

 PENLIGHT on the other hand, made me enhanced my writing skills. Before, I was an assoc editor, now, I am Editor-in-chief. The offer of becoming one confused my decisions at the beginning. I wanted to focus more on my academics, but, later I found out it was even more than an accomplishment serving the department publication. When I furnished the first journalism workshop, my heart leaped with joy seeing the class presidents actively participating, and hearing positive comments from everybody. It was an ultimate success. Not long, we also came up with the monthly newsletters, by which all important events,awards, and recognitions of the college were announced. Everyone's encouragement were so powerful that I had made my heart love the task. It wasn't a task after all, it was a privilege. My staff is now working very hard, and me harder. I have to do it and I'm loving it.

Now graduation is very near, I'm stuffed up with pressures. I don't wanna fail the re valida, but, I'm thinking I will. I am not prepared, honest to everyone. Whatever it takes, I wont fret because I will do my best with all my knowledge. UC has made me a true person, one that exists for a certain purpose. I found my heart in the institution; it watered my abilities, made me withstood all the hardships and gave me the fruit of all my sacrifices: happiness. Months from now, I'll tearfully leave my alma matter, but, I am very proud to say that I will still be helping it in any way that I can.  All of you totally wowed my college years. For long I had been all alone in life,  with my MOTHER the only person hearing and understanding who I am and who I ought to be, but, unexpectedly, you ALL made me whole. My joys of being with you is incomparable and is beyond anything I can ever dream of.

When I look back on how life has brought me here, I smile with tears falling from my eyes. See at how that little girl astonishingly fought for everything she has eyed on. How at a very young mind and heart had she made her thoughts of achieving a tiny part of  what we call success "possible". Her mother was  the only one she had, her armor, and her protector.

"You may not know, I'm one of those million kids on earth who never had a biological father, deeply saying! I have not much to say about him, I barely saw even his shadow. Perhaps on a photo my mother showed me once, now, I hardly know where it is." Still, I am very thankful for the bounty of things God has gifted on me.

(entry finally done, Feb-17-2011)

I Learned the Hard way but Learned BIG.

BY: Ms. MCL Villegas


Student life was never a bed of roses for me. I can still remember how it was way back 2003.  
There might be things that as students, we are obliged to do such as having complete notes in my lesson plan notebook which served as a passport to our fundamentals of nursing class; having white shoes & cap; bringing functional BP apparatus, stethoscope, and penlights in RLE just to save yourself from the mischief of having extension duties. It was even considered a mortal sin, when a single strand of hair shows untied. I really cannot understand why nursing students are bombarded with all the requirements to bring both in the clinical exposure and in school.


Clinical Instructors are considered people in authority. Every time I get to see one of them feels like putting myself in danger and not wasting each second to hide if given the chance. I was almost drawn to despair and often asked myself WHY was it always like that? Pleasure was not even in my own vocabulary, it felt like torture!


Days have passed and I am in my senior years. The need to understand my own sense of purpose was intensified in certain situations. There might be minimal exposure I had in the lives of my mentors but those yield a mark for me to understand and to provide me with the answers to my questions in mind. I came to appreciate the simple acts that my teachers have done for me.


Through this literary masterpiece, I would wish to thank you dear mentors for making me think deeply especially at times when I am formulating my NURSING CARE PLAN. Thank you for helping me realize and appreciate the word RESPONSIBILITY in everything that I wish to do.  It made me modify the reasons for my replacement duties. : ) Thank you for instilling the word VALUES in my heart, thank you so much for teaching me PATIENCE and PERSEVERANCE each time you asked me to come back for your signature in my competencies. But most of all, thank you for the SELFLESS service that you had given up to the agony of losing the time to spend for your family. 


These things might go unnoticed to many, but for me these are your defining characteristics that are worth remembering. These will give me the same picture of NOBLE clinical instructors making nursing student experiences worthwhile. 

MY MOTHER OF RESEARCH

To: Mami ROSIELYN D. TAN

When life seems overwhelming and you can't seem to get everything done...

When there isn't enough time to relax and enjoy...

When there is little reward for all your efforts and you wonder if it's all worth it,if this is what life is all about, and if this is what the future holds in store..

Never forget that there are people who love and care about you;

People who want to help and support you through life's difficult times;

People who think you're pretty special;

And people who care a lot about you. 

I couldn't forget St. Vincent General Hospital. The place where we first had our very "makabagbag damdaming" talk.. : P I was a rookie back then on penlight publication and my first assignment was quite heavy. Masters Degree Holders in our college were very few, about 6 of them to be exact. I had to revise my questionnaire, ran through each item, and re-construct over and over again. But what made the journey so tedious was the fact that I had to chase each instructor here and there. Ma'am Rosielyn Tan gave me a hard time, kidding aside. However, the task was indeed challenging : D. She was the very first clinical instructor who made the breakthrough on masters degree, way back 2005, and oh well, I wasn't really surprised. (Knowing her later). Whenever I tried to reach this woman for an interview, she was always stuffed up with paperworks, loads of duties, and so on, you name it!. I was at first hesitant to sit down and start a conversation with her. Ever wonder why?Looking back 2 years ago when I was in second year; I had lots of friends, mostly students and some, clinical instructors. I saw mam  Tan  in corridors, in the canteen, in the elevator, and even in the mall once. Not on the offensive matter though, I could say just by looking at her during those times, she was totally different and mysterious. There was something in her that made me so curious about, and her aura made me address so many questions. She seldom smiled, that's a fact. :D She was strict, that's another proven fact. And she was straightforward and vocal.

I'm not so sure if she can still remember our first conversation. We had it in a near-by "karenderia" outside the hospital. I was so nervous, to be fairly honest.  She's not just a typical person, I suppose. I sought for traces where and when could I start the conversation and I got lucky, she started it for me. Then, she begun narrating her life story. It took me a long while to swallow the food i had in my mouth; I couldn't hold back my tears. Her emotions were radiating and her feelings filled me with so much pain. Somehow, we shared the same story. We talked about so many things; happenings we couldn't forget and struggles we made in life. I was even comfortable sharing my own experiences and what kind of life I was into. We conversed about how we see life, how it affected us, and how we should be affecting it. That was the moment when magic started between the two of us. 

After that very memorable night, we hardly saw each other. I never heard of her for a long time. Not until I stepped through the facade of being a fourth year student that I realized I would be meeting her again. A day before of our first and most grandious event of the year, the Nursing Gathering, I came across her outside our school chapel. She was looking down on her cellphone,  frowning close to crying. I wondered why, so, I silently approached her and started a conversation. The memory is no longer clear but I can vividly recall the words she uttered months ago during the interview I had with her, "SEE YOU IN RESEARCH". I bluntly reacted, I had no ideas about the subject matter though! Then, I heard she pursued her Doctoral Degree. 

We smiled at each other when we were given the chance but, most of the time, I could see her busily writing and scanning some papers on her desk. When we finally had our oral defense for our research study, the nightmare started. I was loaded with so many projects, a lot of responsibilities to look into, and more problems to face. I had no time to work on research that I constantly left my group accomplishing the chapters. 



During the last several days of preparation, I felt the need to let my hands move, and make my brain work for my group. I had to choose between my extra-curricular commitments and my academics. So, I decided to go with the latter. We struggled so much for everything to be accomplished, I was just glad that my group mates were so much at work. They never failed each other and did their best to meet the deadlines set. I definitely had no sleep, not to mention that the night before our final defense, I was with fellow officers making our way to our adviser's home to give a surprise on her birthday. I went home at 4am. I woke up at 8 and hurriedly type my powerpoint presentation. At 9am, I did a short run through, a small brainstorming for my group, and tackled important points about the topic. At 10 we were filled with anxiety. In several minutes the judgment will begin. And so, my talk started and everything went well smoothly. The moment to lay on the hotseat begun. Questions were raised from the panelists, scrutinizing every bit of entries we put into that manuscript. When our defense started, I stood and supplemented all the answers my colleagues gave. Unfortunately, we failed at a certain point, something went wrong with our study and we needed to do a major revision.  I almost gave up and loosen my grip. As the jurors were evaluating our performance, I silently asked God for enlightenment. I told myself that if I could've given more than my best, we could've made it. 

I thought of a lot of persons and the expectations they had over me. Ma'am Rose Tan suddenly popped out of my mind. I thought of her, I thought the shame it would bring me to let her know I failed. It was wrong to feel that way but nobody can ever blame me. I texted my mom that I'm no longer feeling positive of the result, I sent messages to my mentors and friends telling them I know we wouldn't make it. Several minutes have passed and we were asked to get in and listen to the verdict. The chairman spoke about how our performance frustrated them and each one of us as well. I didn't dare listen more and decided to pack things. But it was a blow when she uttered these words: "you passed". I bursted into tears...It was one hell of a verdict! I wondered why and how they came up with the decision. Maybe, just maybe, it was because of the teamwork and unity that we had. It was one of the most memorable and unforgettable moment in my college life. That I had to pat my back and congratulate my group mates  for doing the job given the shortest possible time. By God's grace, I knew we made it. 

It wasn't just the end of the story. My classmates came to me and cried horribly of their grade. They didn't pass and worst is, they weren't given the chance to do a re-defense. I asked, "who were your panelists?". "It was Ms. Tan who gave the final verdict", they answered in chorus. At the back of my mind I was wondering why mami failed them. I felt so much pity for them that I had the nerve to wait for her to finish the last group who had their oral defense. I had to plead. I reached out to her and asked what had happened. My classmates had the lapses, it was unmistakably true. I tried to asked her if they still had the chance but she didn't give the grant. I accepted her decision because she had the very right to do it and if put into position, I would have done the same. The next day, she sent me a short message. "Les, I'm giving your classmates a chance to re-defend, please tell them to prepare their revisions". It was a miracle God has laid on! I was overwhelmed that I had to breathe so deep. I happily informed everyone and told them to give out their best the second time. I also called Mami Rose and thanked her for the chance, a very rare chance. 


***********************************************************


 Life is indeed full of surprises. Mami Rose was one of those surprises God has given me. I am sharing this simple yet meaningful stories not to brag about how we made it, but how we see life as a struggle and a battle. There are persons bound to ignite us to reality. It was mami rose who made me realize this. She was tough, strong-willed, she lived by her words, but deep within her was a heart full of love and conviction. We convict because we learn. We love because we are cared for. Nobody has ever seen how true she is. If I could only tell people how great this woman is, I'd never think twice. Through mami, I've learned to judge with a heart. She once said, "We are like roses. Oftentimes, people easily notice how sharp our thorns are without even seeing the beauty and color we give off to their human eyes". Precisely. We are usually convicted superficially. Life is sometimes cruel and may sometimes hurt us in a lot of ways. But, it's up to us which path to take, if we will continue to live with it or chose to live in happiness. 

                          My first article in Penlight: THE MASTERS

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Mami Rose, I want to tell you that you are special in so many ways. It gives me a sense of sadness when people are not loved and accepted because they are misjudged. I cannot change the fact but I would like you to know from my heart that you are loved by me, by people who are true, and who live without pretensions. You are more than just a teacher, you are a mother at heart, a mentor, a guide, and a source of inspiration. 

It's God's plan for me to have met you, that's true. I hope you continue to inspire lives and radiate happiness mami. Don't let anybody pull you down, never hold back the desires of your heart, and pursue what you want in life. Don't think of what other people may say or what kind of mentality they may assume about you because what's important is how you see life and how you deal every bit of it. I guess it's the most important aspect of friendship is "We accept each other because we love each other for who we are and for who we cannot be."

YOU ARE LOVED mami, perhaps not by those who do not know you better; but to those who does, you are definitely treasured. You are one of God's ways of telling me that there is nothing to grieve for the pains that I have experienced because like you, pain was the hardest to endure but was also your guiding light to grow strong and to uplift your spirit. 

You are a good replica of a person who never gave up her dreams despite the storms God has laid on. Continue to live a life with principle mami. Be strong. Never be defeated by trials and always have a heart that loves. I am always here for you, anytime you need my hand. Remember the time you told me mami, "everytime i feel so sad and down, you always came".. I may not be an angel but I can be someone who'll cheer you up, someone who'll always listen to what your heart has to say, and someone who'll stand by you even when life gets so mean. I love you for who you are and will always love you "unconditionally". (remember your message on fb? ).. Nothing makes me at peace when you take care of yourself and your family as well. 

-always, 

Lesley.                                               
                                                                      Our photo taken last TEACHER'S DAY 




Here's a gift..

"We are like roses. Oftentimes, people easily notice how sharp our thorns are without even seeing the beauty and color we give off to their human eyes".
-ROSIELYN D.TAN, RN,MAN,Ed.D 


***

From MISS CLING:

Note to a friend: Believe in what you do for it is merely a reflection of what is contained in your heart... people might not value the sacrifices you have made..but remember CHANCES never GREED... you will have your time and by then its you who will grab the laurels. 

"The plethora of evidence for the passion of doing what you do and doing it with love.. made you stand out above anyone else....."

                              (If you like this post, comment here)
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My FRIEND (October 5, 2010 12:08am )

                                                           I.

I want to silently examine my 2-hour   

disappearance. Someone called and asked me to have a little talk, sparing ourselves a break after long days of just plain work.That gave me a reason why I left this note undone.

 Last night, I spent my time inside the office, half asleep and awake. I was bothered by people coming in and out of the room, chit-chatting, murmuring, and laughing boisterously about nonsense matters. So, I decided to step outside, bought a drink, and sat alone in a corner from afar. My brain started scanning my thoughts; paper works to be compiled, undone projects, tough positions to handle, huge debate on my tasks and my studies, and so on.  I am bearing a tantamount of responsibilities. I stood up and walked again. The comfort room was just a few steps away, so, I decided to wash up a bit and rejuvenate. Looking at my image in the bathroom mirror, I knew then I wasn't thinking very well and perhaps, wanted to go somewhere.

 I kept walking and wandering, until my feet brought me to a place not unfamiliar, a very tiny space where I made my past 5 months worth remembering:  my friend’s nook. As I was about to take the final step, a voice suddenly came out and told me to stop. Hearing this person, very worried for the first time, I paused and peeped through the four corners of the small room. My friend was in a middle of a conversation, a talk I wished I haven’t heard of that night. Every word she uttered sank in. I was listening; it was a mistake, and I shouldn't have been.  

 When she was done, I sat in front and stared at her for a moment. “What are you staring at?”, she bluntly asked. I was confused and kept the silence humming for a little while. “I just wanted to see you,” I answered.  She didn't let out any voice from her mouth. Then, I cracked the silence once again, “You seem so upset”. “Yes, I am”, she replied. I couldn't find the exact words to say, words that would eventually help ease up her feeling. Her phone rang, she turned her back on her swivel chair, “I need to talk to someone, so if you’ll excuse me”, she spoke. “Oh okay, I’ll go ahead and come back to you later”, I said in a low voice. Chances to open up her emotions were so less at that moment and I had no choice but to walk away. 

I waited for her to retire and finish her appointments but, to my dismay, she was gone and left minutes before I entered again. It was very late so, I went inside the elevator, bid goodbye to several people, and waited for a jeepney. My mind was racing and was filled with a lot of assumptions. “I need to talk to her,” I told myself. I checked my hand phone’s inbox hoping to see just a single message, but nothing was new. I eventually decided to send her a short message.

My bedroom door was left open when I arrived home. I dressed up and checked my phone again. “ I know my friend's in pain”, my mind was saying. I looked at the ceiling and closed my eyes. At 2:30 dawn, I slept.

                            

                                                                           II.

When I woke up, my heart was pounding terribly and I found out I was into a bad dream. Looking around, I saw my uniform hanging still and glanced through my piled books on the table. Nothing’s changed. I needed to take my early bathe to soothe my mind.

My reporting time in school was 5:30 and I came 10 minutes late, but the good Lord might have whispered to my instructor to patiently wait for me. We traveled for half an hour until we reached our destination. It was a secondary hospital with patients more than its capacity, it was always that way. We did the early rounds, stopped to see each unit, and chit-chatted with some of the clients. It was perhaps one of my luckiest days. Our teacher approached me and said, “You will be assigned as the Practicing Clinical Instructor for today and you make sure everything will be alright while I’ll be staying at the Delivery Room, is that clear?” “No problem sir”, I shortly answered. At the back of my mind I shouted, “What??? We are still in the first semester, and we’re doing PCI? What has came into him and made him choose me?”  The day was nothing unusual. The routines were the same, vital signs monitoring, terminating IV’s and so on. It was funny to realize that I was enjoying my position, but, it was honestly tedious.  Tiring myself has always been my way to overcome negative emotions, and at times, I’d prefer to get drained than just sit down and ache for something. 

 I found my way to school, to my table in the office, and started working on special tasks. My co-officers came, and I was glad they did. I chose to converse with them in a cheerful manner. My phone rang once but I didn't bother picking it up from my pocket. It rang thrice and I couldn't help myself but to answer the call. I was surprised to have read her name. “Hi! How are you?”, I said in a loud voice. It was my friend whom I had forgotten to check after a very hectic day. “Where are you? I’m no longer in school”, she replied. I asked her, “Can I see you?”. “Yeah, let’s run tonight. Our usual get-away”, she silently answered. I knew then what she was implying; a very important skill I've learned since I met her: to deeply read her mind & emotions. The line went dead after our talk. I went home and changed, prepared my packs for the next day’s duty, and fled.

She hasn't eaten anything, I suppose. The mall was just one ride over, so, I bought her favorite fruit salad. I was inside the taxi with my earphones on, looking at a far distance, and felt my stomach churned. I wasn't hungry; however, I needed to feed myself. It’s past 7. “Maybe later”, I said. The traffic lights were somehow teasing me, I was 30 minutes late, and worst is, I haven’t received a single message from her. Moments after, she texted, “I’m still lying on bed, I’m feeling so tired, anyway, see you in a little while.” It made me more and more worried. This is something serious. I stepped out of the cab, snatched a 20 peso bill from my wallet, and handed it to the old lady at the entrance hall. 

                                                                          III.

The oval was filled with people, talking, jogging to their feet, listening to music, laughing, and etc. I couldn’t find a good place for me to have a seat. I walked for a while hoping to see a little space where I could silently look at the sky and hear nothing but the words from my mind. A chair was placed at the far end of the ground and I was glad someone might have brought it purposely for me. At least I still had positive thoughts. I listened to my ipod again, extended my head up into the sky, and closed my misty eyes. “When have I started coming into this place?”, I asked myself. It was a place I never imagined choosing to spend my leisure time.  Keeping my body fit was my last choice, and not to mention, running with my friend around the oval for three times or more, it would have disgusted me a long time ago. But, it was no longer a problem though. I learned to love the activity since I've tried it the first. Our first and definitely my first were great and unforgettable. It was raining that cold night, yet, we talked and talked, ran for five times in the rain, and talked again. Kinda’ silly but memorable. I couldn't imagine myself with her, two persons from two different worlds but was inevitably bounded my circumstances.

There was another moment of silence. I breathed deeply and opened my eyes. “Hey, I’m here”, a voice suddenly spoke. She looked terrible like she just escaped from prison.  “Hi, can I hug you?”, I asked. The hug was so tight and it seemed like we lost each other for centuries. “I bought you your favorite fruit salad,” I happily told her. “Thanks. You found a better place for us to talk”, she said with a fake smile. Not a minute had passed; tears were rolling down her cheeks. She was speaking with a frail voice, loud and, angry. That was the very first time I saw her pain eating up every bit of her being. She was aching inside, and she needs the strength to keep her grip. I felt dark clouds hovered over us, drops of rain touched our skin, and the weather changed as if giving consolation to what she was into. She told me everything; the horrifying experience, the lies and betrayals people have caused her, and the confusion in her mind and heart she’d like to escape from. I was badly hurt. Not for once, I would have reacted that way but, I decided to do so. To go in deep sympathy was the hardest for me to endure. I couldn't stand the wound that screwed her heart; mine too. They preferred not to trust her character, blathered fictional things that never in her life she engaged in, and chose to see her in pain. Those were some of the biggest mistakes they could ever do. If I could only speak to them on her behalf, I would have shouted on their face how pure this woman is. She is nothing like the person they’re making an issue on. My heart was crying terribly; horrified and hurt.

Nevertheless, she made me understand everything. She viewed those circumstances as life’s imperfections needed to be perfected and a light to guide her journey towards its storm of complexities. She may have cried and cried, however, she remained unshaken. The built of courage and confidence were her armor to conquer sadness. She was and will always be a woman full of strength.

                                                                               IV.

I looked up again in the sky, trying to break the tears, and stop the pain inside. She was still murmuring a few lines when I began to joggle up the past events that suddenly crept into my thoughts. It was the first time I seriously sat in front of her table. 8 in the evening, I forgot which date on the calendar; I was with two of my friends. She was busy pasting materials on a thick notebook; it was just a simple notebook at first glance, but it surprisingly had a very beautiful story to tell.  I poked my head to the figures and my friends did to. She turned her gaze on us and started her story. The three of us moved nearer and listened eagerly. We looked through the pages and scrutinized every word she engraved into it. It turned out to be hours of serious conversations, reflections of past experiences, and a recall of untold pains.  Indeed, her story of love made us burst into tears, and it was all unexplained.  Just as she flipped on the last page, I dried my tears, and realized I was getting my nerves into the story. “Why a wonderful human being she is”, was all I could have said.

As I traveled my way home, I couldn't take away my attention from the lines she wrote. There was something that kept me drawing back to the story. When I was almost lying on bed, I felt that sting of conscience paralyzing a part of my heart. The questions came in: Why had I not given myself a chance to know this person a long time ago? Aren’t these circumstances too late for me to discover? I was a bit shameful to accept the fact that earlier, I was blinded by a lot of emotions, a lot of people.  It was hard for me to know where I should begin and where I should stand for.

Several days have passed since the last time I saw her. In my moments of silence, her life was what I scrutinized. The passion to discover never faded in my character but she was undeniably extraordinary. She made me understood the minute yet meaningful matters of life and made my difficulties an enjoyable journey. How could someone new and how could a stranger possibly influence me? There came a time when I began telling her my own story too. It was an unplanned talk between me and her; nevertheless, it changed the whole course of who I was. From then on, we saw each other more often, sent messages almost every night, texted about nonsensical issues. She asked me to come with her on exciting trips from which I have met a lot of people. They all came from a world so vast and so different from what I own. There was one feeling I was sure of, I was enjoying every piece of it. Her happiness was mine too, her sadness was what I also felt. I learned to love the things that I hated most, accepted the challenges life laid on me, and accepted the truth that my life has something more to offer, may it be sorrow, pain, or joy.
  

to be continued.......