"Our memories; Well, they can be inviting. But some are altogether mighty frightening " ... -Gwen Stefani (No Doubt)

As promised, i am going to share with you, my reading audience, the speech i delivered tonight in our Toastmaster's meeting. For those of you who do not know, but are interested to know what Toastmasters Intenational is, it's actually a club where people deliver their prepared speeches and be evaluated as well. It's an avenue to practice speaking in public and improve gradually as you go about the different steps and speeches. Being a new member, i did my Basic Speech 1 , which is called the ice breaker. To know more, you may check out this page about the different speeches: http://sixminutes.dlugan.com/toastmasters-speech-0-competent-communicator/

 According to the guide on that page, the first speech of the Toastmasters program is about introducing yourself to your peers, providing a benchmark for your current skill level, and standing and speaking without falling over.

So, here's my 6 minute speech .... entitled, 

The Big C (no, not the vitamin)

           Do you remember the time when you were little and everyone around you would ask what you wanted to be when you grew up? I bet some of you once wanted to become someone you are not today. Perhaps you said “I want to be a teacher; or a doctor; a scientist maybe; an astronaut; or even a rockstar”. And when asked “why?”, I guess you would’ve said “to save the word, to heal, to have a house, to have a really nice car, to be able to travel the whole world, to win a Nobel prize, to have crazy fans scream my name out loud”. As for me, I had never intentionally wanted to become a doctor. And I never wanted to have cancer. But as it turns out, I am a doctor and I do have cancer.

            For most of my life, I’ve had it easy. School was never tough because my parents were never pushing me to do something or be someone that I didn’t want to be. They allowed me to grow in my own pace but with their guidance, nonetheless. I managed to breeze through gradeschool, highschool, college and medschool. I have gathered little achievements here and there; from a few honor rolls to my very own first kiss. And I’ve established great friendships with a number of ordinary and extraordinary people. Indeed I’ve grown, brain-wise but not height-wise, evidently so. All through those years I have maintained good grades, as well as ably maintaining the same height then and now. So as you can probably tell, I’ve been used to being a little girl; a little lady with a little voice; and now, a little woman. But this little woman was diagnosed with the Big C one lovely Monday morning while taking care of her patients in the hospital. And I bet you can hardly imagine what it must’ve felt like: to be a doctor one minute, and be the patient in the next. Well, imagine no more because I’m going to tell you. 

             You see, when something as big as cancer happens to you, it becomes more of a test of character rather than a test of health. It unveils who you really are, beneath all the façade, beneath all the expectations. It gets you down to the basics, bringing you to the core of your humanity. I have to be honest, I was sad upon hearing the news; sad, but never scared. I also felt betrayed. I felt like life was cheating on me. Because I thought I was doing everything right, and thought I had my entire life figured out, but I was so wrong. So I felt scorned; like being stabbed in the back, helpless and utterly vulnerable. And later I grew ashamed for having felt those things. I picked myself up, prayed and trusted God entirely. Somewhere along the way I felt empowered. Then I felt peace.

            That one event made me realize who I really am. I’m still a little woman, with a little voice. But I am not easily scared, for I fear nothing but God. I don’t have my life figured out because I’m only me, a finite human and only God has the blueprint to my life. I am ridiculously spontaneous but very optimistic. I still have dreams and they’ve never changed ever since I finished medicine: dreams of being able to touch people’s lives whether by a prescription I’ve made, by a smile I shared or even by a speech I delivered.

            So ladies and gentlemen of the audience, if you’re down, and depressed for a failed a relationship, a horrible unforgiving boss, a loss at the lottery; or frustrated at never being able to buy that new MonteroSport that everyone’s crazy about, or sad at never having awesome Boracay pictures to post on Facebook simply because you cannot afford the trip, or even just crying for having to cancel a date with Mr. Hot Guy or Ms. Sexy Lady because you had the flu. Well I suggest you stop, dry those tears and think. If this little woman can single-handedly fight with the Big C (with joy and fearlessness, at that!), then SURELY you can handle a little runny nose, can’t you?

well, that was it. i think i did well, or i hope i did. :)  till next time, :)

"I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have and cannon ball into the water" .. . -Teddy Geiger

Out of sheer boredom and with plenty of time to spare, i recently joined the Toastmaster's Club in my own locality. It's a rather interesting move, and i am yet to discover what it can bring into my life. I am quite certain that it'll help me improve in many ways. i'll be posting my first basic speech here after i deliver it on wednesday. (fingers crossed)   majority of the members who will be listening are people i've met for the first time. the thought of it is unnerving but just as equally exciting! :)  be on the lookout for my next post, as it will contain my toastmaster's basic speech number 1.... 

"take all your so called problems, better put them in quotations. say what you need to say" ... ... -John Mayer

What do radios and crickets have in common? You may think “What? What is she talking about?” and say, “Nothing. They have absolutely nothing in common.”. Well I’m urging you to think again. Both of them create noise, don't you agree? They both let themselves be heard by making a sound. We could all learn a thing or two from radios and crickets. Most of us have God-given voices but rarely do we ever truly speak our minds and hearts out. If you still don’t agree with me, try to recall the time when you had to walk a considerable distance from your supposed destination simply because the bus/cab driver didn’t hear you the first time you asked him to stop. Try to recall your disappointment, your wasted time and energy walking that distance and how it single-handedly ruined your day. You could’ve spoken clearer or perhaps a tad louder and what a difference it would have made! But that’s not my point.

        You see, a lot of relationships have been compromised because of a mere miscommunication, or simply put, a non-communication. Mothers develop tension headaches because their teenage daughter is always coming home late. Teenage daughters come home late because their mothers are always whining about their headaches. It would’ve been simpler and more peaceful if the two would just talk, say what they want to say and get on with their lives. A couple celebrates their 10^th year anniversary but fights during dinner because the wife got red roses when she was always the white tulip fan. She feels her husband should’ve known better, after 10 years of being together. But did she ever really tell her husband about it? I don’t think so. Or one country rages war against another because its intelligence agents have a hunch that the enemy country is creating nukes and making them the target. Without even initiating “peace talks”, bombs are already dropped.

Technology has allowed us to communicate faster and further. But are we really gaining something good from all the wired and wireless tools? Or are we rotting even more in our people skills?  

I personally think that a healthy relationship with a friend, a lover, a parent, a co-worker, a boss or even with yourself is established by good, open, honest communication. There is freedom in honesty. There is freedom in expressing oneself.

So each time you feel like you have something to say to someone but you feel tied up and scared to speak out, think of all the crickets!

sources of photos:

(1) http://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g274958-d281978-Reviews-Estonian_Museum_of_Occupations-Tallinn_Harju_County.html

(2) http://boingboing.net/2009/04/28/mormon-crickets-disl.html 

(3) http://www.thatsweird.net/picture40.shtml

"did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day and head back to the milky way" - Train

(grabbed from Karlo)

Radio-silence. An entire month of radio-silence. My absence from writing can be attributed to the events that have transpired over the past few weeks. It’s not because I’ve been sick bad enough that I couldn’t write, nor is it because I’ve nothing to write about. In fact, there are a gazillion things that I have got to share. You can only imagine how fast my fingers are typing at this very moment, eager to put all the words that are overflowing from my puny brain. Prepare yourself for a lengthy entry.

They say, if you're a sincere blogger, you'd write just about everything; every emotion, every thought: the good, the bad, the happy, the sad. But life can sometimes be too overwhelming to be put in words; too depressing to even be shared. Sometimes, the best way to speak your mind, is to be perfectly still, and not say a word. Last month was quite a struggle for me, my family and everything in between. It was like being trapped in a jar, helpless and utterly breathless, not knowing if you’re ever going to get out of it. But God, and His omnipotence, gave me peace that transcends all understanding. My family eventually managed to overcome the struggle and learned a few valuable lessons along the way.

I’m finally done with the ruthless and merciless chemotherapy. I can now brush it aside and laugh at the memory of it. A total of 16 sessions in a span of 8 months; 225 days to be exact. I celebrated it with pizza, puke and even more puke. Forgive me for my lack of a better word, but I don’t want to sugarcoat anything so everyone knows exactly what I mean. Chemotherapy was no easy ride. I sure am glad I can put it behind me.

Moving on, I also celebrated my 27^th birthday about a week ago. For weeks building up to the exact date I have been confused and constantly thinking of ideas on how to celebrate life, while I was still struggling with surviving it. Finally I made an exciting decision to spend my day with friends at an orphanage. It was even better than I’d imagined! It was a joy to see the innocent toddlers’ messy faces eating spaghetti, cupcakes and icecream. When you make other people happy, their joy becomes a sort of mirror and reflects a smile on your face. You forget your own worries and become infected with laughter.

One other exciting event worthy of some air-time is the day I met my soulmate. No, this isn’t some romantic story or a fairy-tale-like adventure. This is about me meeting a stranger one lovely afternoon over a cup of chai tea latte. Her name is Jurace. She’s 27 years old and she also has cancer. We both share the same diagnosis: Hodgkin’s Lymphoma stage 2. And we both share the same fate: chemotherapy and radiotherapy. We are likewise of the same age, and are both the 2^nd daughter of 3, with both female siblings. It was hair-raising when we realized that we had very similar stories as we continued to talk about our experiences, our likes and our dislikes. She comes from the far side of the country and traveled all the way here to receive her treatment. I prefer to think that she came all the way here to meet me.  She is still halfway on her chemotherapy and I can already see that she can come out of it strong and victorious. It was comforting to meet someone who can truly relate to what I’ve been through. And it is as equally challenging to be able to support her in more ways than one as she continues on in her treatment.

This is me and Jurace. I have not been wearing a wig for 3 weeks now simply because I already have tiny new hair growing. It’s unnerving the way everyone’s head turns when getting a glimpse of me but slowly I am becoming more oblivious to their stare.

should i give up, or should i just keep chasing pavements? - Adele

when you think that you have your entire life figured out, trust me - you don't. 
life will constantly throw curve balls your way and you'll never know until it hits you, dead straight on the face. it's a fact. life doesn't always turn out the way you planned it but it doesn't mean you can't enjoy its surprises.

i have been dealing with harsh realities for the past couple of weeks. dreams had to be steered to a different direction and decisions had to be made despite how things have fallen short of my expectations. it hasn't been easy, but life never is. 

when you are overwhelmed with life's unfortunate events, you tend to ask why nothing is ever working out for you. you get impatient, frustrated and arrogant. believe me - i've been there. but i tell you, our limited human minds can never comprehend God's infinite divine plans. He can do far better than what we can even begin to imagine. God, in his sovereign greatness, is teaching us to wait on Him. We hastily make decisions in the hopes of achieving the plans we have set for ourselves. We must never forget that despite how unpredictably exhausting life can turn out to be, God has shown nothing but perfect consistency.
He remains faithful to us even when ours sometimes fade to a blur. 

think of the cross. 

"And in between the moon and you, angels get a better view, of the crumbling difference between wrong and right." - Counting Crows

this is the story of my detour. my pitstop. my “facing-cancer-and-hitting-it-in-the-face” experience. this is the story of me.

       It was a usual day at work, juggling through patients’ progress notes, nurses’ questions and senior resident’s requests. I was nonchalantly scratching my neck that morning when I noticed a lump sitting on top of my left clavicle (collar bone). It wasn’t huge, but it was unusually there. “This wasn’t here this morning” or so I thought. Being a new doctor, whose concern for her patients weighed more than her own “suddenly-there” lump, I brushed it aside and self-diagnosed it as “NOTHING serious”. But as per other doctors’ advice, I had blood work and radiographs done at the end of the day, still with “nothing serious” rolling through my mind over and over again. But it was nothing close to nothing serious, I tell you. Because after all the tests and the scans, and a short tour to the operating room for a small biopsy, my lump turned out to be cancer. Hodgkins lymphoma to be exact. It is cancer of the lymph nodes. And it was in me. The date was February 15. And it marked the day that my life started anew.

       From then on I had to temporarily stop working, something I found very hard to acclimatize. I’ve gotten so used to waking up at 5 in the morning, doing early morning rounds to check on patients, ending the day all worn-out and beat, that I didn’t know how I should act when I have the entire day spent at home. I was a mess. A bored mess so to say. But that was the least of the adaptational struggles I went through. I had to accept the tiny fact that for the time being, I was the patient, not the doctor.

      Routinely, I went through immunization updates, bone marrow biopsies (I wish no one ever has to go through that), and other pre-treatment what nots. I had been sporting a really long do then simply because I never had time to visit the beauty parlor. I was unrealistically confident I’d never have to lose my hair in chemo. But I was wrong. After 3 sessions, running my fingers through my head was like harvesting rice in the field. They just started falling off, not one by one, but in clumps. I rarely towel dried my hair with fear of seeing them all fall off at once. It was horribly depressing seeing long strands of hair on the wooden floor of my bedroom, on the tiled floors of the kitchen and dining room, and on the wet, slippery bathroom floors. It was all too depressing. So I shaved them all. And I never once saw another hair strand on the floor again, except that of my dogs’. 

       I cannot even fathom to describe how cruelly toxic chemotherapy can be. I try to eat plenty during breakfast, I puke it all out during lunch, and I have ice chips for dinner. Whats worse, I already have my horrible puking sessions even before the real treatment starts. This thing we call “anticipatory emesis”. A term I will forever hate for the rest of my life. I struggled with it throughout my entire 12 sessions of chemotherapy. I want to personally meet it and kick it in the groin. If that’s even possible. In between chemotherapy sessions, life seemed pretty normal. Or one could say, relatively normal.

      I get blood work done every few days or so, and usually have low counts. This prompts me to have doses of a blood cell stimulating drug, which I’d have to inject every few days or so, depending on my count. Its not a simple drug. It hurts like hell. Its only 1mL in volume but it’s the most painful 1mL there is. I hate that drug but  its helping replace the cells i lose in therapy. 

     Moving on, its now been 6 months since my diagnosis. I’ve had 12 sessions of chemotherapy, shaved my head 3 times, read a few chapters in my medical book, been to countless blood tests with my spotted, scarred arm being proof of them. I’ve managed to still go to social gatherings, so long as im strong enough to wear heels. I’ve also watched several films on movie houses and have worn disposable masks in most of them. I’ve been put to a scare of developing a serious infection, but was lucky enough to hamper it. I’ve owned 6 wigs, worn only 2 of them. I’ve perfected the art of making delicious and creamy mashed potatoes, or I assume I have. And I’ve started blogging, evidently so. 

I still have a few more chemotherapy sessions to hurdle. And i cant wait to get to the checkered flag. I know i'll come out of this a different person, possibly not entirely better, but definitely a lot more grateful for my second lease on life. 

"is there really no escape? no escape from time of any kind"..... ..... - Duncan Sheik

A few days ago I was trying to make myself useful by doing simple household chores. It was initially uneventful until I noticed that I was literally trying to catch my breath. I had to pause, look for a place to sit, and breathe. It was unnerving because I’ve never felt anything like it. I've never had to catch my breath in my life. I have never noticed my minute-by-minute respiration except maybe in the past when I used to join in 10-km fun runs. But this was different. It was like I couldn't get enough air, couldn’t expand my lungs enough to satisfy my craving. 

“What’s happening to me?” I asked myself, with a hint of panic in my head. 

So I just sat there and I just tried to breathe.

That may have been a very scary event for me, or anyone, for that matter.

 But figuratively, we’ve all had moments in our lives when we can hardly breathe. Moments when we feel like we’re running in a marathon, with our hearts pacing and our lungs can only do so much. We live each day in supersonic-speed we forget to take time to smell the roses. Consumed by the demands of work, the expectations of loved ones, and the standards we set for ourselves, we often suffocate in disappointments, regrets and frustrations. And we find ourselves crawling, reaching, just gasping for air. Oftentimes, we dive deep and wait ‘til the air tanks in our lives have hit the red mark for LOW despite having been warned lots of times to slowly start the ascent. We try to go the surface, we try to relax, give ourselves a breather. But then, most often than not, it’s all too late. We’ve drowned; drowned in overwhelming stresses, in unrelenting fears, and in underestimated self-worth.

I took my time, and taught myself to breathe in- breathe out, like chanting for someone about to give birth. It annoyingly took quite some time but I cringe at the thought of giving up. So I kept going, and going, until breathing became more natural and panic has left my system. It was exhilarating, the feeling that you’ve survived a potential life-ender. Exaggerated as it may sound, the possibility of death did come into mind. I was alone at home; still battling with a little thing called cancer; any sudden-onset dyspnea while doing minimal work could smell like disaster.

So take time to breathe, in all ways that the word connotes. Merriam-Webster defines “to breathe” as to enjoy relief. Therefore, we should not be in haste. Life isn’t a race; it’s more like a privileged journey. When and how the journey ends we don’t really know, so while you still have the free ride to life, inhale and exhale, every once in a while. ;-)

that's me and my friend Princess studying in a pastry shop in Cebu., all photos taken using her phone camera. 
 Somewhat unrelated to the post but hey, we both took a break and took some time to breathe  :)