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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