Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Altschmerz

Altschmerz n. weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had—the same boring flaws and anxieties you’ve been gnawing on for years, which leaves them soggy and tasteless and inert, with nothing interesting left to think about, nothing left to do but spit them out and wander off to the backyard, ready to dig up some fresher pain you might have buried long ago. Can't describe how I feel when I saw erick's prenup picture. Perhaps, the best way to describe it is being in an aftermath of a storm, when everything is silent and the sun is beginning to show itself again. There you sit, staring at the sky filled with hope and wonder. Yet when you look around you, what's left of the storm is still in chaos.I don't exactly know why I still feel this way really. When I think about it, I don't want him back....not even a bit, not at all. I'm not mad, angry, sad, or whatever. I do miss him sometimes... but nevertheless, it's better being apart. Despite these thoughts, somewhere within me is that dull, aching pain. It's not so severe, but it's just there...steady. Somehow as I imagined losing him (which I already did few years back!), tears started to fall. I couldn't figure it out... then out of nowhere I started to realize that perhaps there's a part of me that regrets staying with him for a long time... too long that my adult life passed me by. And I was never able to replace him.. not yet, probably not ever. You see, the reason why I broke up with Erick is because I lost the interest... I don't know if it was his fault. Perhaps it was the wrong timing. We were both at the time of our lives when we were just about to build our careers. We built it together. He helped me, and I helped him. But somewhere along the lines of helping, I stopped loving him. Our kilig moments turned into boring routines. I don't want to blame him anymore, but it just didn't work out. But anyway that's no longer the point. The point is.. I have to take a stride to move on. There's this unsettling feeling that I'm being left behind because I'm not in a state wherein I am happy. Somehow I am grateful for all the blessings I am receiving lately. The opportunities to provide for myself... Can't even imagine I can make that much for writing... me??? a writer??? WTH right. But for now, this is what sustains me. I'm grateful for the gift of privacy.. the opportunity to be alone in a room... the opportunity to have choices on what to do with my time... the opportunity to make a choice. And now, I choose to wipe the tears and not to embitter myself with whatever's left of yesterday. I can only look forward to loving myself. Perhaps to engage in a path of self-discovery...not because I feel lost, but because finally... I've found myself. The person who dreams. The person who pushes hard. The person who's unstoppable. The person who makes things happen.

Closing Remarks

By the end of this week, I will be temporarily closing a chapter in my life. As I write these words down, there's a continuous sinking feeling within me. The depth of which is unknown and I have no idea when that sinking feeling will stop. It seems that the conduct of neurosurgical training has evolved into something I barely recognize. I shall compare it to a degenerative disease. The course is unpredictable but downhill. This is not due to any sense of self-importance that I have, but just as an observations. Rounds have become superficial, lacking in formality. As one resident proudly puts it, they are in "auto-pilot" mode. Does seeing patients entail something that's run-of-the-mill? To obviate negative judgment on my co-residents, I turn back to the consultants who are supposedly regulating the conduct of training. I cannot help but ask, what led to the laxity of training? What happened to the value of bedside manners and patient care? I am not saying that they do not have both, to a certain extent they do, but clearly lacking as they do their rounds on an "auto-pilot" mode? My sinking feeling accounts for the fact that I am chief resident and all these behaviors somehow reflect on me and our training. I've passionately dedicated several years of my life looking after patients who are not my own with all the integrity and boldness that my mentors have taught me. Why is it now that the young ones are not being taught about these values? My mentor previously mentioned that they lack maturity. Nobody goes through neurosurgical training. It is a rigorous phase of professional development that naturally requires one to shed blood, sweat, and tears. But why does it seem like it is a walk in the park these days? As I pour out these sentiments, the sinking feeling continuous. I texted one of the residents to update me regarding two patients he missed updated me about. It has been 40 minutes since my last message and I haven't received a response. My disappointments are mounting to the size of Mount Mauna Loa, and I am afraid that I am repressing too much to the point of having another outburst that only I can understand. ----- LOL written months ago! Currently at qmmc having the time of my life lalalalala