Landas na tinatahak ay ‘di man malinaw,
At ang paroroonan ay ‘di ko matanaw,
Ngunit sigurado ako sa aking layunin,
Kaya’t patutunguha’y tiyak na mararating.
(*thoughts while running on this foggy morning; photo taken with an iPhone)
*******
For my non-Filipino readers, here’s a loose translation, though I think it lost some of its poetic edginess:
The path I tread may be dreary,
Where I would go I cannot see,
Yet I’m certain where I want to be,
And there for sure, I would be.
Today is Friday the 13th. For superstitious folks out there, please beware!
Many people consider this as the unluckiest day in the calendar. According to an article from National Geographic, the fear surrounding Friday the 13th may be rooted in religious beliefs. It has to do with the 13th guest at the Last Supper, who is Judas, the apostle who betrayed Jesus, who in turn was crucified on a Friday.
The fear for Friday the 13th is so widespread that psychologists even have a term for people who suffers from it: paraskavedekatriaphobia. That’s a mouthful. The irrational fear for the number 13 is called triskaidekaphobia.
Irrational or not, many buildings don’t have a 13th floor. So elevators will go from 12th floor and then skip to 14th floor. In 2002, based on an internal review of records, a report from Otis Elevator Company estimated that 85% of the buildings with Otis brand elevators did not have a floor named the 13th floor.
Most hotels have no room 13. Many hospitals have no room 13. Even our own ICU has no room 13. So you think medical institutions are not superstitious? Though I get it, I think patients or their family will freak out if they learn that they are being admitted to ICU room 13.
Speaking of ICU, I have been the ICU attending for the past couple of weeks now. It has been busy, plus you know that July is when the new residents or physicians-in-training start, so it is an added stressor to me. To destress, I blog.
It is known in the medical world that the rate of medical errors and surgical complications spikes in the month of July. The hospitals even have a name for it: the July effect. This is not due to a mystical phenomenon, but due to a very logical reason stemming from the inexperience of the newbie doctors.
Thus I am supervising and watching my residents like a hawk this time of year. And today, Friday July 13th, I will even be more vigilant.
To end, in connection to mystical events, I would like to share a story that was posted by a batchmate in the group chat:
Murder Mystery at the Makati Medical Center
There was this case in the hospital’s Intensive Care Unit where patients always die in the same bed on Sunday mornings at 11 A.M., regardless of their medical condition. This puzzled the doctors and some even thought that it had something to do with the supernatural or even murder. No one could solve the mystery as to why deaths happen on Sunday at 11 A.M.
Mr. Licauco, Fr. Bulatao and the Ateneo paranormal folks were called. They arrived armed with special photographic equipment, infra-red devices and motion sensitive radar to detect any presence.
So on the next Sunday morning, a few minutes before 11 AM, all the doctors and nurses nervously waited outside the ward to see for themselves what the mysterious phenomenon was all about. Some were holding wooden crosses, strings of garlic, amulets, prayer books and other holy objects to ward off evil spirits.
Just then, the clock struck 11. And then……..
Mang Joe, the part-time Sunday janitor, entered the ward, unplugged the life support system and plugged in the vacuum cleaner.
Have a happy Friday the 13th folks!
(*photo from the web)
Last week during July 4th celebration, we had an experience that reminded me of my days in the Philippines. You may say, how can be a holiday that is so American (US Independence Day) remind me of my home country, the Philippines? Please stay with me and keep on reading.
Our last 4th of July was kind of unusual as we were invited for dinner by our friend to celebrate it with their friend, whom I never met before. We celebrated the holiday in a farm about an hour drive away from our home, in the outskirt of a small town of rural Iowa. We had dinner – burgers, hotdogs, potato salad, and vegetable salad (very American meal) – in a log cabin near a small pond. Then when darkness came we sat in our camping chairs and watched the fireworks that was fired from the nearby town.
Even though the setting of the log cabin was similar to a small barrio back home, but that’s not what reminded me of the Philippines.
Earlier that day, since it’s a holiday and I wanted my wife to take a break too from the kitchen, so we went out for lunch. We chose a restaurant that is located in a large shopping complex close to our home. After we were seated and only a few minutes after our order was taken by the waitress, the power went out. A blackout!
Why do we call it blackout or brownout? Technically the lights are out so it’s black or dark. Should it be “black in?” And is there a difference between blackout and brownout? Many people, including me, think they are synonymous. But according to energy company’s definition, a blackout is a total power outage while a brownout is a partial reduction in system voltage or system capacity. Now I learned something too.
So while we were sitting in the restaurant without power, that brought me back memories of the power outages in Manila.
I was reminded of those candlelight dinners we had, not because we were creating a romantic ambience, but because there’s no electricity and yet we need some light so not to swallow the fish bones. Those sweltering heat that all you can do was to fan yourself with the abaniko made of fronds from buri palm. For your information, we don’t have air-conditioning in our Manila home, but we have a few Standard or Hitachi electric fans.
Most of the people, at least from our neighborhood, would go outside in the street and hangout in front of their houses when the power is out. No TV to watch any teleserye, and it’s too hot to relax or nap indoors. So no other recourse but to gossip with your neighbors outside while enjoying Manila’s evening breeze. Lahat istambay sa kalye.
Those blackouts most of the time, would last one to two hours. And during the 1980’s to early 90’s, we had rolling blackouts or scheduled power outages, to conserve energy as there’s not enough power supply to cope with Metro Manila’s increasing electric need. Or perhaps the government just thought it was a good fad.
Sometimes it was not just once a day that we had blackouts, as it could be twice a day or more. With the lights going on and off so often, all business becomes “patay-sindi.” Of course the real “patay-sindi” establishments or the red-light districts just gets darker. And when the power is out, Metro Manila becomes one big sauna place, with its residents sweating profusely that no amount of tawas or Rexona matters.
Even hospitals and other vital facilities were not spared from this power outages. Some of the facilities have their own power generator, but even then, their generators cannot supply all their facility’s electric need. So maybe the generators can support the power for the lights, but not the air conditioning or some other functions.
When we were 4th year medical students, one of the roles we have was to become human ventilators. One of our sign-outs was the list of all patients in the hospital on mechanical ventilator. So when the power goes out, we all would run to our assigned patients and manually ambu-bagged the patient for the next hour or so, or until the power returns. Squeezing the ambubag for an hour was a good exercise for the forearm though and it strengthens the grip. I just did not realize until then that, that was one of my duties when I signed up for medical school.
When the long-awaited electric power finally returns, you could hear a loud hurray and even applause from the whole neighborhood. As if we need to cheer the energy company for restoring the power. It’s like it was our “utang na loob” to have our electricity back. Utang na loob na buhay ‘yan!
Back to our 4th of July lunch in the restaurant, as we waited for our food, the waitress told us that our food would be ready soon. They might have gas-powered grills as they can still cook even without electricity. Though it was already starting to get hot inside as there’s no a/c. They did not have to bring out candles though as it was still bright with all the windows open. We were not given the reason for the power outage which in the first place, was a very rare occasion here.
Not too long after, our food came. The restaurants closed its doors for new customers but let those people inside finish their meals. After we were done eating, the waitress told us with a smile that we can go and don’t have to pay, as our meal was on the house. I think with their computers off, we can’t pay with credit cards anyway.
I left a generous tip on the table, both for the free lunch and for the evoked reminiscing – a sultry trip down memory lane.
Sangayon sa mga balita, kasalukyang iniimbistigahan ng International Basketball Federation ang naganap na insidente sa laro ng Gilas Pilipinas at Australian Boomers. Hindi pa alam kung anong parusa ang ibababa sa mga sangkot sa labu-labong suntukang nangyari sa basketball court.
Inakusahan ni Luc Longley, dating NBA player ng Chicago Bulls at kasalukuyang associate coach ng Australian basketball team, ang head coach ng Pilipinas na si Chot Reyes na ginatungan nito diumano ang kanyang mga players, kaya nauwi sa rumble ang laro.
Dinepensahan naman ng dating coach ng Pilipinas na si Yeng Guiao si coach Chot Reyes. Sabi ni Guiao wala raw kasalanan ang kasalukuyang coach at hindi dapat itong idiin sa mga nakakabahalang pangyayari.
Ganoon pa man, hindi nagustuhan ng Samahang Basketbol ng Pilipinas ang naging papel ni coach Reyes sa mga kaganapan. Hindi rin nila nagustuhan ang “performance” ng ating mga manlalaro at ang estado na kulang sa “skills” at “training” ang ating mga basketbulero.
Dahil dito ay tinibag na si Chot Reyes.
Ito na ang kanyang kapalit:
(*Ang balitang ito ay hindi fake news. Totoo, peksman.)
Basketball at boxing. Ito ay dalawang libangan na paborito nating mga Pilipino. Pero sa Pilipinas, kadalasan pinagsasama ang dalawang sports na ito sa iisang event.
Mula basketball sa kalye, liga sa baranggay, tournament ng mga kolehiyo, hanggang professional basketball games sa Pilipinas, ay minsan (o madalas), nauuwi sa suntukan. Ngayon umapaw pa ito hanggang sa international games. Siguro naman ay alam ng lahat ang nangyari sa FIBA games sa laban ng Pilipinas at Australia.
Siguro may mga ilan din sa inyo ang nakakatanda noong 1998 sa isang exhibition game sa America, ang ating Philippine Centennial Team, kasama sila Marlou Aquino at Andy Seigle, ay nakipagsuntukan sa Minnesota college basketball team.
Ang mga Pilipino ba ay sadyang “Basagketbulero?” Basketbulero + basagulero.
Hindi ko sinasabing hindi ko naranasan ito. Dahil noong ako’y naglalaro pa ng basketball sa kalsada sa aming lugar, may mga panahon na nagkakainitan ang laro, lalo na kung ang mga kalaro (o kalaban) ay taga ibang kalye o mga dayo. Kahit nga iyong pa-liga ng aming simbahan, oo magkakapatid na sa pananampalataya, ay nauuwi pa rin sa away. Pero hindi naman ako nakakasama sa suntukan, dahil mabilis akong tumakbo – tumakbong palayo!
Bakit nga kaya?
Dahil kaya sadyang mapusok tayong maglaro ng basketball? Dahil kaya tayo ay lahi ng mga palaban? Dahil kaya may dugo tayong lahat na boksingero at gustong maging Pacquiao? Pero in fairness kay Pacquiao, kahit naging basketbulero din siya, hindi siya nakipagboksing habang nasa basketball court, sa boxing ring lang.
Baka naman dahil may mentality tayong “walang iwanan,” na kapag inapi ang ating kasama ay igaganti natin ito ano man ang mangyari? Ito ang rason na ginagamit ng iba sa ating mga manlalaro. O kaya naman ay mayroon tayong “rumble mentality” – hindi masaya kung walang away. O dahil ba madali tayong mapikon at wala tayong “self-restraint?”
Hindi ko alam ang tunay na dahilan. Ngunit nakakalungkot na inaalis natin ang “sport” sa larangan ng “sports.”
Kahit ako ay Pilipino, ang boksing sa basketball ay hinding-hindi ko maipagmamalaki.
(*photoshopped image from the web)
Last year we added two new partners to our group. It is good that our practice is growing and there’s now ten of us Pulmonary and Critical Care doctors in our team.
The downside to this growth is that our limited office space can barely accommodate our expansion. Storage spaces and closets have been turned into patient’s examination rooms. The other thing that has to give is our personal spaces. Before each one of us have an office room, but now it was converted into one large room that we share together. Though we still have our own desk and a corner or side of the room where we hang our diplomas and personal photos or mementos.
We now also have a common book shelf that we share where we placed our valued textbooks even though they are outdated. As you know, a medical textbook is only good for a couple of years, like our smartphones, as new and revised version comes out every so often with updates of the latest studies and findings.
Many of the books here in the shelf were published more than a decade ago, and thus they are obsolete and are only good for showcase. Note how thick and heavy many of these books. I can’t avow though that we read them from cover to cover. But perhaps just displaying them make us feel confident and smart.
From “Medical Dictionary,” to basic science “Lung Cell Biology,” and to our specialty’s bible “Textbook of Respiratory Medicine,” I can say that at some point in time I referred to these books.
But there’s one book in the shelf that caught my attention recently, as it may be out-of-place. It is not my book, and I dare not ask whose book it is among my partners.
Did you spot the book?
In case you still not sure what book I’m referring to, I pulled it off the book shelf and here it is:
Perhaps it’s a book of one of the young children of my partners. Perhaps a partner of mine reads this book for relaxation. Or perhaps this book is an inspiration or has a special meaning for one of them. After all, considering where we came from and where we are now in our state of life, it is a realization of “Oh, the Places You’ll Go!” And as a transplant from a foreign land, this really rings true for me.
Here’s an excerpt from the book:
You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who’ll decide where to go.
Maybe it really belongs to this shelf among other medical books. Besides, this book is also authored by some famous doctor. Dr. Seuss, that is.
*******
Post Note: “Oh the Places You’ll Go” was first published in 1990, and the last book published by the author in his lifetime. Even though Dr. Seuss is well-known as children’s book author and illustrator, this particular book is a popular gift for students graduating from high school and even college.
(*photos taken with an iPhone)
Here’s what I did last weekend:
1. Helped my wife cooked tuyo (dried fish) in our outdoor grill.
2. Chased a deer during one of my morning runs.
3. Scavenged for bargain art item in the streets downtown (Des Moines Art Festival was this weekend).
4. Got lost among the corn (visited a friend’s farm).
5. And lastly, summoned my indigenous spirit or maybe my hidden pyromaniac nature and did a fire dance.
(*all photos were taken by me with an iPhone, except the last photo which was taken by our friend)
It is officially summertime in our area. Summer solstice was June 21, so our days are long and hot. Time for picnics and grilling outside.
A couple of days ago, I came home early and my wife asked me to accompany her to the grocery store. She said she’s going to prepare a special dinner and needed to buy some items. She saw in the internet this “summer dish” and wanted to try it.
After we got home and after some time and much loving effort, our dinner was ready. The new dish my wife prepared is called the Italian grilled vegetable salad. I am not a food blogger, so I’m not enumerating the ingredients needed to make this dish nor would I pretend that I know how to prepare it. Though I think some of you can figure it out just by looking at the photo below.
I know it’s a deviation from our usual Filipino food we have at home. Where’s the pancit? Where’s the adobo?
It rained heavily early that afternoon so it cooled down a bit. The temperature outside was very comfortable and did not feel like an oven. We checked the forecast too and there should be no more rain the rest of the day.
So to make it a perfect summer dinner we decided that we should eat out too. No, not eat out in a restaurant. I mean eat out, outdoor in our deck.
The earlier downpour plus the strong winds also drove the insects away. Many times there are lots of flies around that you can’t eat out without having a fly swatter in hand. Besides, the rain already washed our outdoor table and chairs clean.
Eating outdoor is popular during summer time. Even fancy restaurants here have patio outside where you can dine. However, I still feel uneasy sometimes when the tables outside the restaurant is near a street where people passing by can see your every bite or can even grab your food. Maybe it’s just me.
After elaborate preparation – setting our table and taking all the food out, we were ready to eat. Of course we took a photo first before we chomp down the food (photo below).
Note how presentable and artful our table was. It was Instagram worthy. For you readers, I want to let you know that we usually don’t dine like this. Most of the time we scoop our food to our plate directly from the pots and pans. And knife and table napkins, who need those? Please also note the tomatoes, not on the table but on the planter near the table. They are not ripe yet though.
After saying grace and after we literally took our first bite, the rain started falling. Yes, rain! Darn! Can’t trust those weather forecasters.
We hurried back and carried all the food inside. We ended up eating inside our home just like we do everyday. Our “perfect” outdoor dinner was ruined by the rain. Though it would take more than rain to ruin our evening or break our spirits. We remain thankful, after all, it was still a very satisfying dinner.
At least we can claim we ate outside. Even for one bite.
(*photos taken with an iPhone)
Few days ago I drove to my outreach clinic which is an hour and a half away. As I mentioned in the past, the drive there is mostly serene and relaxing, going through picturesque rural Iowa landscapes. Unlike the frustrating drive through EDSA being stuck in traffic for an hour and half. It was a beautiful spring day too, with colorful blossoms on the trees lining the highway.
This journey provides me an opportunity to ruminate, I mean to think deeply, not chew the cud like cows here in Iowa. And a chance for some “sound tripping” too. The music album I picked that day for the drive was an album I have not listened to for quite a while. I just added it recently to my iPhone’s music library. It was Jim Chappell’s “Saturday’s Rhapsody.”
While I was cruising down the road and listening to the music, it took me back 25 years ago. To be exact, it was a Saturday night in January of 1993.
I was a fresh graduate from medical school, and I just passed the Philippine Medical Boards. Some of my friends had been harassing (kantiyaw) me for days to take them out to eat as a celebration for my recent board passing. So I told them, perhaps the coming weekend after a church function, we can go out if we wish. A wishy-washy plan.
There was this girl, a friend of a friend, who recently became part of my circle of friends, that I knew it was her birthday that weekend so I brought a gift just in case she’ll show up and join the party.
The gift was a music cassette tape. Remember them? Compact discs were not in vogue yet or they were more expensive than the cassette tape that time. It was Jim Chappell’s album “Saturday Rhapsody.”
Jim Chappell is an American jazz pianist. I’m not really a jazz type-of-guy. I am more of Pinoy folk, rock and country type-of-guy, with favorites like Freddie Aguilar, Asin and Eraserheads. But when I’m studying, I avoid those songs, as I would break out in a song which will be disruptive. So I gravitate to instrumental music or music without words. That’s how I end up listening to jazz music, especially when I was reviewing for my boards.
As I was listening to a smooth jazz radio station in Manila, I heard the music of Jim Chappell, and I got hooked. I bought my first album of his, “Living the Northern Summer.” I love his music so much that I shared this to my friends, as I gave them Chappell’s album as a gift. And that brought me to that particular night in January 1993.
I bought the album “Saturday Rhapsody” as a possible gift. That is if this particular girl would show up that night. If not, I can keep it for myself, for I still don’t have that album anyway.
But the girl showed up.
Darn, I would like to keep that cassette tape for me! Yet it was also a good thing, since it was her birthday, thus it was her blowout too. So she shared on the bill for the restaurant meal for our group, saving me some money.
After seeing the album, this girl thought that the music was kind of “bastos” (lewd), as the picture on the cover of the album was some sort of a naked woman (see photo below). She also thought I was “presko” (fresh or impudent)! But afterwards, when she listened to the album, she found that it was decent music and she liked it. It changed her impression of me too.
We became good friends since then. We even went together to the concert of Jim Chappell when he came to Manila and performed at the Philippines International Convention Center in the summer of 1993.
In the end, the album that I gave away, became mine eventually and I didn’t have to get one for my own, as she and I shared it together. We have been sharing more than just music together for the past 25 years.
*******
Here’s a sample of one of the songs in that album “Saturday Rhapsody.” This song is “A Weekend to Remember.” It really was.
(*photo from the web, video from YouTube)
Ilang araw na lang ay lalabas na ang bagong pelikula ng mga paborito nating superheroes, ang “Avengers: Infinity War.” Ito ay isa sa pinakamalaking production ng Marvel Studios at pagsasama-sama ng pinakamaraming superheroes. Ang movie genre tungkol sa mga superheroes, ay isa sa mga pelikulang kinagigiliwan ng madla at malakas tumabo sa takilya.
Pero ibang superheroes ang gusto kong talakayin ngayon. Ito ay ang mga Abangers. Mga taong nag-aabang.
Hindi ko tinutukoy ‘yung mga tambay sa kanto. Oo nga’t nag-aabang din sila, pero hindi ko lang alam kung ano nga ba ang inaabangan nila. Siguro, Pasko?
Hindi ko rin tinutukoy ang mga pasaherong tinitiis ang pagod, gutom, init, at pakikipag-siksikan habang nag-aabang ng masasakyan. Tunay naman na umaabot ng siyam-siyam makarating lamang sa paroroonan. Sa ibang pagkakataon ko na lang tatalakayin ‘yon.
Ang aking tinutukoy ay ang mga nag-aabang sa pag-ibig na hindi nila maangkin. Sa simpleng salita, ‘yung mga nagmamahal ng taong may girlfriend o boyfriend na. O mas masaklap pa, nagmamahal ng may asawa na. Sila ay nag-aabang na magkahiwalayan ang sinisinta nila, para sila naman ang makaentra.
Maraming mga kanta akong kinagisnan noon na nagsasaysay ng ganitong sintimyento. Ito ang isa: Hanggang Sa Dulo ng Walang Hanggan.
Ang orihinal na umawit nito ay si Basil Valdez, at ni-remake naman nila Gary Valenciano at Sarah Geronimo.
At kung sadyang s’ya na ang ‘yong mahal,
Asahan mong ako’y di hahadlang,
Habang ikaw ay maligaya ako’y maghihintay,
Maging hanggang sa dulo ng walang hanggan.
Ayan ang tunay na Abanger! “Abanger: Infinity Wait.”
Heto pa ang isa, awit naman ni Martin Nievera, “Ikaw ang Lahat sa Akin.” May cover din nito si Regine Velasquez.
At kung hindi ngayon ang panahon,
Upang ikaw ay mahalin,
Bukas na walang hanggan,
Doo’y maghihintay pa rin.
Meron pang isang kanta, ang awit ni Andy. Andy ba kamo? “Andy ‘to ako, umiibig sa ‘yo.” Huh?
Ah, eh si Ogie Alcasid pala ang kumanta nito. At my version din si Leah Salonga.
Nandito ako umiibig sa iyo,
Kahit na nagdurugo ang puso,
Kung sakaling iwanan ka niya,
Huwag kang mag-alala,
May nagmamahal sa iyo,
Nandito ako.
Ilan lang ‘yan sa mga theme songs ng mga Abangers. Sila ay mga superhero, di ba? Hero, bayani, as in martyr! Pwedeng-pwede na silang barilin sa Luneta.
Maaring iyong tatanungin, masama bang maging Abanger?
Unang-una, mahirap maging Abanger. Lagi ka na lang nagtatago sa dilim, naghihintay sa pagkakataon na lumabas sa liwanag. Laging patago ang iyong diskarte, at baka ka mahuli ng tunay na nagmamay-ari. Sabi nga ng lumang kanta ng Apo Hiking Society:
Mahirap talagang magmahal ng syota ng iba,
Hindi mo mabisita kahit okey sa kanya,
Mahirap oh mahirap talaga,
Maghanap ka na lang kaya ng iba…..I-dial mo ang number sa telepono,
Huwag mong ibibigay ang tunay na pangalan mo,
Pag nakausap mo siya sasabihin sa’yo,
Tumawag ka mamaya nanditong syota ko.
Pero marahil ikakatwiran natin, kung tunay ang pagmamahal natin, ito’y ipaglalaban natin kahit pa may bakod na. Bahala na kung magkabistuhan pa. At handa tayong maghintay, kahit pa sa dulo ng walang hanggan, ika nga ng kanta.
Pero dahil kaya sa pagiging Abanger ay maaring ipinipinid natin ang ating paningin at sinasarado natin ang pinto sa ibang mga pagkakataon. Sabi nga ng isang quote:
When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us. – Alexander Graham Bell
Minsan hindi pinto, kun’di bintana ang pinagbubuksan. Kaya’t tumalon ka na sa bintana. Jump out and move on.
Marami ang nabubulag at marami rin ang nagbubulag-bulagan dahil sa pag-ibig.
Isa pang dahilan, ilagay natin ang ating sarili sa sapatos ng boyfriend o girlfriend ng ating inaabangan. Hindi ko ibig sabihin na nakawin mo ‘yung sapatos ng boyfriend o girlfriend, pero siguro naiintindihan mo ang ibig kong sabihin. Hindi ba nakakabwisit kung may umaasungot o umaaswang sa iyong syota? Sabi nga ng Gintong Utos: Huwag mong gawin sa iba, ang ayaw mong gawin sa iyo ng iba.
Ang huling dahilan na naiisip ko kung bakit hindi magandang maging Abanger ay ito, hindi mabuti ang “One-Way Street” sa larangan ng pag-ibig. Hindi ito malusog na relasyon. O hindi ito maituturing na tunay na relasyon.
Unrequited love is the infinite curse of a lonely heart. ― Christina Westover
Tulad ng mga naririnig mong payo ng iyong mga kaibigan, ‘Ang mga martyr, binabaril!’ Alam kong may halaga ka, kaya’t pahalagahan mo rin sana at mahalin ang iyong sarili. Natitiyak kong may tao ring magpapahalaga sa iyo.
Masakit man isipin at mas masakit pang aminin, na ako ay naging isang Abanger din noon. Oo, nag-aabang ako sa pagdaan ng magtataho sa aming kalye noon.
Pero seryoso, naging tunay akong Abanger, nanligaw at nag-abang sa babaeng may boyfriend na. Ito ay nang ako’y nasa unibersidad pa. Akala ko nga kami na. Dalawang taon din akong nagpakagago! Pero salamat at naumpog ako at namulat sa katotohanang wala akong mahihitad at hanggang sa pagiging Abanger lang pala ako.
Hindi ako nagkikimkim ng galit. Hindi ako nanghihinayang. Hindi rin ako mapait sa mga pangyayari.
Noong makailang taon lang ang nakalipas, ay dumalo ako sa aming Graduation Silver Anniversary ng aming unibersidad sa Pilipinas. Dito ay muli kong nakita ang aking dating inaabangan. Oo nga’t may kaunting kislot sa dibdib nang akin siyang makita matapos ang dalawampu’t limang taon. Pero akin ding napagtanto na pundi na at wala nang liyab ang aking damdamin para sa kanya.
Hanggang sa ngiti na lang kami at pagbati ng “Kamusta ka.” Dahil para sa akin, natagpuan ko na ang aking “forever.” At hindi lang ako isang Abanger.
(*Our class section of Medicine batch ’91, who attended the reunion gala night. Photo credit to our official photographer.)
