<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379</id><updated>2012-02-11T09:23:23.031+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Freakin' Sob Story</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-3885972691846349582</id><published>2007-10-21T22:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T22:53:31.660+08:00</updated><title type='text'>October 19 Glorietta Bombing -- Code Red</title><content type='html'>Justin M and I just got back from a lunch out in Jollibee at around 1:30pm. We were the ER Pediatric interns for the day and all we expected to see for the remainder of the shift was a bunch of sipuning kids, the worst perhaps, being one case of benign febrile convulsions. Our table was situated right in front of the ER entrance, so you could just imagine my horror when I saw the first batch of morbidities coming in droves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man in a wheelchair was holding a blood-drenched towel to his left eye...a woman was carried by a stretcher, unconscious and covered with matted blood...a pregnant woman was holding on to a panicking 10 year old, not even aware of the lacerations dripping with blood all over her face. Literally, tumaas lahat ng balahibo sa katawan ko..."Oh my god, What happened?", I asked Just while clinging to his arm at the same time. "Oh shit, may sumabog daw na bomba sa Glorietta.", we heard from the background. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without a splitsecond's thought, I texted my family and friends who were working in Makati then dove into the slowly growing crowd of casualties, scrubbing them with plain NSS-soaked sponges, combing their head for injuries, placing their broken arms in a sling, while at the same time trying to calm them down by saying everything will be ok...even if I wasn't feeling ok myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One woman became temporarily insane...repeatedly saying for the next couple of hours, "Whatever you do, please, I don't want to be separated from my children.....Was there a bomb?...How did I get here?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one sight I'd never forget was a young woman, clothes tattered...black bra exposed...skin gray and covered with sand...arms rigidly raised above her head...right leg shattered...I was screaming in my head, "God, she's dead...she's dead!" while one nurse hastily covered her body with a blanket and shoved her bed to one corner of the room to make way for the other victims. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People were texting me and calling me the whole time, asking me, kamusta jan? All I could do was text them what was happening and provide isolated accounts of the cases I actually handled. Well, you know how I really was during that time? I was in shock. I was frightened, appalled, digusted... I was so scared to look at the patients on the stretchers because I might see someone I know. I wanted to run out of the ER and head for home. I never saw so much blood, pain, grief and evil in my entire life. I couldn't believe any person alive would do such a thing. I wanted to cry because I just felt sorry for everyone in that room...and because I knew it could have been me, or my loved ones and I know I wouldn't be able to take it if any of them would be taken from me in such an ugly way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone texted me that there was a bomb threat in Makati Medical Center. I also heard from the news that Glorietta 4 was on fire. Tomorrow I'm going on duty, not sure if I would be seeing red again. All I can do now is pray for peace in our world, and strength and courage for me, my friends and co-workers so we'd continue to do what we have vowed to do, the day we decided to be doctors.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-3885972691846349582?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/3885972691846349582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=3885972691846349582' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/3885972691846349582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/3885972691846349582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2007/10/october-19-glorietta-bombing-code-red.html' title='October 19 Glorietta Bombing -- Code Red'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-6496016257687651683</id><published>2007-06-20T09:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T09:24:05.876+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fatness:(</title><content type='html'>Why is everyone getting thin? I'd like to know. I went to our frat-soro inuman get-together last night, feeling very good about myself coz I was stuffed full of duck and spicy prawns from our Diabetes symposium in Good Earth. Just as I was starting to brag about how yummy it is to be working in MMC, someone just had to burst my bubble. Karl literally shrunk! I was like, God, now he really does look like he's 35:) And Jason. And Conrad. And Joke! What the hell??? May epidemic ba sa UERM? Shet. Humirit pa si Arbee, mukhang alagang-alaga tayo sa MMC a... Shut up, asshole. I know! I can feel my flabs performing an intricate waving motion when I walk. And my face is still as big as a plate. I need motivation but I don't really want to be motivated, like right now, now. I'd rather eat than look like Paris Hilton -- so everyone just shut up and let me enjoy my free conference food in peace!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-6496016257687651683?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/6496016257687651683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=6496016257687651683' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/6496016257687651683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/6496016257687651683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2007/06/fatness.html' title='Fatness:('/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-561339363105931883</id><published>2007-06-15T11:45:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T11:45:46.054+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kitty 911 - 6/11/07</title><content type='html'>I had an emergency text from my sister Nikki today. "Ate, baka naman makatulong ka. Yung pusa kong si Snikki -- kilala mo na ba siya? Ayaw kumain at nagsusuka ng dilaw at puti. Anong gagawin ko?" Susmaryosep, if it was a person, I could have easy diagnosed it with something like Acute Gastroenteritis. Apparently, Snikki has an infection plus a fever at that. So she was forcefed with water and Paracetamol and now, umaasa si Nikki sakin to make halo water and sugar to make a D5W IV fluid. E san ko naman isasaksak yan?? Nasaan ba ang veins ng pusa?? Nampucha, I didn't graduate medschool to cure alley cats! I'm presently scouring the net for kitty advice. Help!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-561339363105931883?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/561339363105931883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=561339363105931883' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/561339363105931883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/561339363105931883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2007/06/kitty-911-61107.html' title='Kitty 911 - 6/11/07'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-8140720599863299063</id><published>2007-05-31T18:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T18:29:55.770+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wading Home</title><content type='html'>The one thing I love about living in Makati is I get to walk a lot. And I get to walk alone without feeling lonely because everything around you is just too busy so the kind of thoughts that creep inside your head merely stem from the eyecandy that you devour on the streets -- isaw (particularly those disgusting chicken heads), the exciting new GRO rock band that plays in this carinderia near the hospital (skimpy skirts and agua oxinada-dyed hair galore), the astounding number of convenient stores in one street and the huge population of call center people who to me are like modern day gypsies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday was quite a unique experience though. I was from duty and determined to window shop in Glorietta despite the throbbing varicose veins and "manas" legs. After I've had my fill of new books that I can't buy, a yummy King Kong Fuzion shake and a nice, long chat with my good friend Alvin who's barely making it alive in East Avenue Hospital, I sauntered off to Landmark to buy an umbrella coz it started to rain. I picked an indigo-colored one which cost 60 bucks. For some strange reason, indigo is starting to be my favorite color. Somber. Sensitive. Subdued. I no longer felt like a fuchia. I've made a huge transition in many aspects of my life and I had to give up a lot of things...persons...person...who mean a lot to me. I've been in Makati Medical Center for a month now and still feel like an alien, or rather some lukewarmed creature. Well, boo-hoo for me coz there's no turning back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, there I was, walking with my cheap umbrella, past the huge billboards in front of Rustan's repeatedly showcasing this model in retro attire, bedecked with these gorgeous hunks.I found it quite amusing coz I looked so gusgusin,literally a basang-sisiw with my Gray's anatomy outfit soaked through and through, and feeling giddy-silly and there she was, all dry and perfect, looking as if she wanted to be someplace else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a bus and stared out in Ayala, realizing how yummy it is to think sad thoughts with giant raindrops pattering on the window. When my condo came into view, I made para, stepped out of the door and dove/sunk in an ankle-deep cocktail of murky water and &lt;a href="http://www.emedicine.com/emerg/topic856.htm"&gt;leptospirosis&lt;/a&gt;. Shet I literally walked through baha! Hello, Makati kaya to,the melting pot of all things dirty and polluted! When I hung on to an island for dear life, there were these 2 guys pushing this bike with an odd looking side car (the kind that carries vegetables in the market, or maybe a couple of chickens or a very small pig), embellished with a white monobloc chair. Punyemas, wala nang poise-poise to! I paid them 20 bucks so they could take me across that Buendia swamp. It was a kodak moment, me sitting prettily with on the chair with my little umbrella. I looked like the Rani or Sheikah of Payatas. It was so crazy! Too bad nobody I knew was there to laugh at me. Hehehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-8140720599863299063?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/8140720599863299063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=8140720599863299063' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/8140720599863299063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/8140720599863299063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2007/05/wading-home_31.html' title='Wading Home'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-4298325762345221487</id><published>2007-05-28T18:41:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T18:43:16.799+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad Song Trip</title><content type='html'>Everything (Lifehouse)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find Me Here&lt;br /&gt;Speak To Me&lt;br /&gt;I want to feel you&lt;br /&gt;I need to hear you&lt;br /&gt;You are the light&lt;br /&gt;That's leading me&lt;br /&gt;To the place where I find peace again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the strength, that keeps me walking.&lt;br /&gt;You are the hope, that keeps me trusting.&lt;br /&gt;You are the light to my soul.&lt;br /&gt;You are my purpose...you're everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?&lt;br /&gt;Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You calm the storms, and you give me rest.&lt;br /&gt;You hold me in your hands, you won't let me fall.&lt;br /&gt;You steal my heart, and you take my breath away.&lt;br /&gt;Would you take me in? Take me deeper now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?&lt;br /&gt;Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?&lt;br /&gt;And how can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?&lt;br /&gt;Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-4298325762345221487?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/4298325762345221487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=4298325762345221487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/4298325762345221487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/4298325762345221487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2007/05/sad-song-trip.html' title='Sad Song Trip'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-115300404148474146</id><published>2006-07-16T06:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T06:54:01.503+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I 'd Rather be Someplace Else</title><content type='html'>Nakakabagot sa Psychiatry. Inuulcer pa rin ako sa sobrang pagkabato. Pero astig, kagabi lang ako nakakita ng schizo in action. May nakikita raw siyang dwende at 2 anino. Lagi raw tinutusok yung liver niya chaka binabali buto niya. Tapos lagi rin siyang hinihiritan at inuutusan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eg. Marco the intern: Kuya,nanood ka ba nung bagong laban ni Pacquiao? San yun ginawa? &lt;br /&gt;Schizo the patient: Sa Araneta!&lt;br /&gt;Marco: Very good!&lt;br /&gt;Schizo the patient: Ay hindi, sabi nila sa Cuneta Astrodome. Pinagtawanan tuloy nila ako...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nyaahaaay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nainggit ako for 10 seconds. Gusto ko rin sana makakita ng kakaiba. Hehe, kakabagot na kasi talaga e...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-115300404148474146?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115300404148474146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=115300404148474146' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/115300404148474146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/115300404148474146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-d-rather-be-someplace-else.html' title='I &apos;d Rather be Someplace Else'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-114872655881762413</id><published>2006-05-27T18:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-27T18:42:38.850+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Status: From ER</title><content type='html'>I just woke up from a bad sleep. Bad meaning, the weather was too hot, and it was the shallow kind that only lasted 2 measly hours. I was not refreshed at all, considering I was dead tired from working at the emergency room. And it's so important for me to time my sleep properly because I don't have much time scheduled for rest. Normally it would be easier to just go into a grumpy mode and rant about how unfair life can be and all that. Internship takes so much of you -- it makes you want to scream out loud in frustration and fatigue or just simply give up because you're like a candle that's wasting away in the thick, dark dreary world of sickness and yes, death. And you feel that that small emanating light coming from you just doesn't make a difference. And then you'd doubt your destiny and realize that the world doesn't need you and you don't need this. Right now, it takes tremendous effort to stop feeling that way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Mij said that the only way to cope with this new way of life is to realize that it is now your normal way of life. My friend RJ calls it being "in the zone", yung hindi mo tinotoxic yung sarili mo when you're placed in an inherently toxic situation. And it's true. Ordinary to me now means dealing with a person who is caught between life and death. Or having to prick someone's arm 5 times to get to the right vein. Or getting bawled at by a husband who's wife is dying of cancer. Or having to touch someone's urine or feces or blood, not knowing what interesting organisms reside in them.Or getting the third degree from a doctor who thinks you're the stupidest animal alive. Or being denied the most basic of needs like weekends off, a bath, sleep or the chance to see how the outside world looks like during the day. I'm starting to feel like the adjustment phase is drawing to a close and in a matter of months, I'm so different from the person I was before -- more mature, more selfless, and ironically, happier than ever. It feels like some journey in which you're just excited about the flowers that you smell along the way and the destination that seems so far off is just some uninteresting little blur. God, I honestly love my life right now. I wouldn't have it any other way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-114872655881762413?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/114872655881762413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=114872655881762413' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114872655881762413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114872655881762413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2006/05/status-from-er.html' title='Status: From ER'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-114698264130478609</id><published>2006-05-07T14:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-07T14:17:21.320+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unang Buwan</title><content type='html'>April 23, 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was deep in dreamless microsleep when Mike jolted me awake, "Huy, may pasyente ka sa CRM." And in a second I sprinted off to the OB-Gyne ward consultation room with stet, bp apparatus and logbook in tow. As I passed through the door, holy crap! All I could see was red. Red, thick blood flowing profusely down the patient's legs. Oh crap talaga. This is definitely another admission. She just gave birth last week, was discharged with a bill of clean health and was given a typewritten prescription of antibiotics. Apparently, she didn't take them because Co-Amoxiclav was not as important as, say, her new baby's formula or her family's meager food budget. So she went on to acquire endometritis which can only be managed with confinement (which was free), lab exams (P350 for a transvaginal ultrasound, P100 each for CBC and urinalysis), stronger antibiotics (which cost P3,000-5,000 per day), blood transfusion and lots of IV fluids. After our resident enumerated each expense, we all found ourselves staring at the blood droplets on the floor in deep miserable silence. The husband sat on the floor with one hand across his face. The patient smothered her face with a blood stained hospital blanket, in an attempt to hide her tears. I, on the other hand, was thinking, God, I can't help them! The feeling of helplessness and hopelessness was choking me like a vise.The resident was most likely thinking the same thing. After sorting all possibilities, they decided to try out a government hospital. With all the blood cleaned out and a fresh new adult diaper, the patient was wheeled off with a referral slip, which she'd probably won't use anyway...because in the middle of the way they'd think, this thing would just go away, like a cold or a rash. And they'd go home and forget the whole night ever happened. They'd forget about the P5000 buck expense that they were supposed to shoulder and postpone worrying about a worse scenario than this, like maybe, hypotensive or septic shock. After they left, I collected all my stuff: my stet, bp app and logbook and closed the CRM door. It's quite easy actually to just pick up from where you left off, and wake up to a future that was as bright as the morning sun. Which makes me a little guilty of course. But perhaps the thing that will forever stick to me is that no matter how much you try, you can't save everyone. But you will save some of them, and in some way make their lives a little better...and that should be enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April 26, 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Venoclysis, a.k.a. blood extraction, a.k.a. one of the top reasons why people hate doctors. Also one of the reasons why I hate being less than a doctor. It's not because it makes me feel yuck, I mean, hello, I've seen worse, like a retracted abdomen filled with warm blood and pelvic innards (as in parang isang giant kaldero ng dinuguang di pa luto). Aaaanywaaaays...I just hate it that I'm not infallibly good at it yet. And what makes things worse is that mas lalo ka pang nang-hahassle ng mga taong uber-agrabyado na in the first place. Like yesterday when I woke up this cancer patient at 6am for an order for a white blood cell differential count. She just had surgery the other day. Blow #1: For a couple of months, she thought she was pregnant but it turned out that she only had this pathologic "sago-like" stuff in her uterus called hydatidiform mole which makes your belly swell up, like you're pregnant and gives a positive result in a pregnancy test. Blow #2: A hormone called bHcg was found to be elevated in her blood so she might even have choriocarcinoma, a kind of cancer that is a sequelae of H. mole. So stress diba. And because of some stroke of bad luck, I just happened to be horribly incompetent at that certain point in time. Ginawa ko lang naman siyang pin cushion. I pricked her 3 times because her circulation defied the forces of nature. Even if you go for the biggest pulsating vein, her blood simply refused to flow. Joemal did 2 more pricks. God, buti nalang kaya pa niyang ngumiti in between shrieks of anguish. Deep inside I was wishing for this huge mallet, like the one you see in Looney Toons shows, to hit me on the head a couple of times just to make things even. Pero wala eh, so binigyan nalang namin siya ng pandesal. Na walang palaman. Hehe, stress! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April 30, 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OB-Gyne Ward rotation is over! Parang hanging umihip lang sa mukha mo ng ilang segundo. Parang isang lagok ng kape na dumaplis sa lalamunan mo. Parang splitsecond na tisod sa isang maliit na butas sa kalsada. Parang isang mumunting sampal sa braso pag may langaw na dumapo. Akala mo kasi minsan ang parusa ay magpakailanman kaya madalas kinakatakutan o iniiwasan. Eh sandali lang naman e. Bukas at bukas rin, mababaon ang lahat sa limot ngunit matitira ang ikaw na iba na sa taong nakagisnan kahapon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-114698264130478609?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/114698264130478609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=114698264130478609' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114698264130478609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114698264130478609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2006/05/unang-buwan.html' title='Unang Buwan'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-114260985692993366</id><published>2006-03-17T23:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T23:37:36.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Divine Intervention</title><content type='html'>Grabe ang araw na to! Intense! So as you already know, I've already wasted 3 days of my vacation making tambay in UERM Hospital for nothing. I was searching for a pedia teacher who apparently does not even work in UERM! Damn you stupid secretary, bat ngayon mo lang sinabi sakin na sa Capitol pala nagtatrabaho si Dr. Panlilio!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways, I called up her clinic and after the third call, she says na SHE CAN'T FREAKIN REMEMBER ME AND WALA SIYANG ALAM ABOUT SOME INCOMPLETE GRADE and to kindly talk to the department head instead. So ayuuun, I sniffled (as in tears in my eyes and sipon in my nose) in the middle of the hospital lobby because I was lost, dumbfounded and extremely tired. (Hindi pala enough sustenance ang longsilog). And as expected, pinagpasa-pasahan ako ng mga teachers --&gt; from Dr. Pedro to Dr. Battad to Dr. Carlos (Dra. Carlos thanks for being sooooo nice!!!). And so at 2pm, I was sitting on some bench, staring into space and here comes Joke. Hay nako Joke! You are the hero of the day! He accompanied me to Capitol Medical (of course Dr. Panlilio disappeared in thin air. Ganon talaga pag minamalas). He gave me advice about writing the school and all that. Actually walang naresolve but the fact that he was just there cheered me up a lot and pushed my mental gears back to work. So yun eventually, yung mga residents nalang ang sumalo ng trabaho so I'm now free to go to Cebu tomorrow! Woohoo! Oh yeah, thanks Dr. Karl and Dr. Jangail for helping (may silbi rin pala kayo...peace bros!:) )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, everything fell into place as the evening drew to a close. I ate yummy barbecue with lots of "taba". I had a good, non-violent evaluation meeting with my sorority (I shall miss you, my children! mwah mwah!). I went home, soaked myself in the bathtub for an hour with a dilapidated Reader's Digest, and a few minutes from now, bibigyan ko ng third degree ang manliligaw ni ate. Hehehe! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you God for this day:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-114260985692993366?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/114260985692993366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=114260985692993366' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114260985692993366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114260985692993366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2006/03/divine-intervention_114260985692993366.html' title='Divine Intervention'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-114243047145196003</id><published>2006-03-15T21:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T21:47:51.466+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Freedom Day #2</title><content type='html'>Hmph, I was just rejoicing the other day that I'm never going to wear my yucky, oversized med school uniform but no, yesterday, at least 8 people texted me "Uy, pumunta ka sa office ni Dr. Pedro. Incomplete ka daw sa Patient-Doctor." Poof! Babay beaching in front of the TV for the whole day. So I made the dreary exodus to UERM this morning, waited for Miharu for 45 mins., waited for Dr. Pedro for 30 mins, waited for Dr. Espaldon for another 30 mins... only to find out that some absent-minded old pediatrician forgot to send in my grade. So...phooey, phooey, phooey, I have to go back to school tomorrow and scour the hospital grounds for that doctor who may or may not be working tomorrow. Yahoo. This is what you get for working too hard...extra hard work at exactly the time when you don't need it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero ok lang. Dada and I hung out at Gateway and talked about life and why God just had to make every male as dense as the black hole. We opted not to watch a movie for now because everything sucks and the only one worth watching (because Heath Ledger is in it) is gonna be shown in the evening pa. So we just whiled away our afternoon, wasting our parents' money on white shoes, bags and too many socks. Hahahaha! Belinda ha, fun ka talaga:D Hindi ba't masyado tayong excited? Internship here we come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-114243047145196003?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/114243047145196003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=114243047145196003' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114243047145196003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114243047145196003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2006/03/freedom-day-2.html' title='Freedom Day #2'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-114136110630134105</id><published>2006-03-03T12:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-03T12:56:51.803+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Med school, Hello World</title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning feeling confused and hungry. I couldn't remember my dream but I'm guessing it has something to do with being stuck in a desert and saying "Agua, agua..." over and over. Stupid Jarhead trailer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways, a couple of seconds later I instantly felt a gurgling, diarrhea-like feeling in my stomach, like when you're faced with a pseudo-Armaggedon-like situation, such as your Philo 104 orals, or when you're about to interview for your first job. Today I had the last lecture of my scholastic life and it's so sad. Because that means I have to be an adult again with real world responsibilities. Like I'm gonna be exposed nakedly in front of our critical society and my abilities would be measured against a standard as high as Mt. Everest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, in a few weeks I'll be literally holding one's life in my hands. Medicine is such a scary frontier. You simply cannot be less than brilliant or vigilant, or else you and a bunch of sick people are gonna suffer the consequences. And I can just imagine consultants in my head, dressed in Borg-like attire saying, "Fun is irrelevant. Your social life is irrelevant. Food is irrelevant. Sleep is irrelevant. You are irrelevant. Only the consultants matter." Jeez. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could jump back into my mother's womb. I wish I could go back to being cosmic dust or be one with the Great Light or whatever those shamans or tribe priests call it. I don't know. It's just that the real world just makes me feel so small...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-114136110630134105?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/114136110630134105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=114136110630134105' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114136110630134105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114136110630134105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2006/03/goodbye-med-school-hello-world.html' title='Goodbye Med school, Hello World'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-114104378110546469</id><published>2006-02-27T20:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T20:36:21.136+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange Siblings</title><content type='html'>Don't you sometimes think that you're stuck with the strangest family in the world. I, on my part, will not be the least bit surprised if I learn that I come from some oddball alien race. Grabe, my siblings are such fools. Allow me to elaborate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diba we usually greet each other with a nod or "uy!". But no, pano kami nagbabatian? Imagine this, you just woke up early in the morning and you're sitting on your bed. The door opens, papasok ang kapatid mo and lalapit until he/she is 4 feet away from you. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;At biglang sasayawan ka niya!&lt;/span&gt; Complete with serious face ha. Putek, whatdahell??!! Recently booty-dancing ang ginagawa ni Nikki. At malaki ang butt niya to boot. Takte nakakadisorient! What's up with this family?? Are we drugs?? Yes we are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the creepy thing is...Justin seems to have the same disease. Grabe to the tune pa of "Together Forever" by Rick Astley...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehe, mahirap talagang hindi maging masaya:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-114104378110546469?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/114104378110546469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=114104378110546469' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114104378110546469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114104378110546469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2006/02/strange-siblings.html' title='Strange Siblings'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-114076035959778058</id><published>2006-02-24T13:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T14:46:20.016+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Walang Pasok</title><content type='html'>It's kinda selfish actually, to feel utterly joyful about not having classes today when a few thousand people are out there worrying about their lives and the state of our country and everything. And the sadder truth is, I've always been in denial of everything that's going on. I've always been repulsed with politics. I don't care squat about the economy. To me, politics is just a topic for a 5 minute small talk. "Grabe ang mahal ng pagkain. Grabe dati P59 lang ang chicken meal sa KFC, ngayon P78 na!" I can truthfully say that this is because I'm such a freakin' idealist, thinking that the world is still half-populated by saints and I always want to feel safe. And safe for me is going to school and sleep in lectures, or going out for coffee or surfing the net and reading blogs. Med school is like this poor attempt  to make amends with the world I've turned my back to. Like, I know you're stuck in this mess of bad politicians and poverty but it's ok because I will serve you some day. Do I really mean what I say? Am I really gonna use my heart and my hands for those who need them the most? Or am I just secretly harboring this desire for comfort and wealth that a surgeon is bound to have? God, I'm such a fake sometimes. I wish I had real principles.Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accckkk!!!! My almost naked picture from the Heat Stroke fashion show is posted in school! Oh my God!!! UE Scandal! Hahahaha those were really good memories. I loved the feeling of being beautiful even for just a couple of hours. Yep I did look good I must admit. Hot actually. Kelangan ko na mag diet ano ba! I need to bring that hot bod back!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-114076035959778058?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/114076035959778058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=114076035959778058' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114076035959778058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114076035959778058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2006/02/walang-pasok.html' title='Walang Pasok'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-114071083126002998</id><published>2006-02-24T00:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T13:57:55.103+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://kevan.org/johari?name=Bodge"&gt;http://kevan.org/johari?name=Bodge&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please be as honest as you can. Di tulad nung mga nagsulat na trustworthy si Zab. Hwehehehe!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-114071083126002998?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/114071083126002998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=114071083126002998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114071083126002998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/114071083126002998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2006/02/httpkevan.html' title=''/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-113206526975085159</id><published>2005-11-15T22:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T22:37:48.706+08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Immature Entry</title><content type='html'>If you're a stranger who, perchance, happens to be a nurse or a nursing student (and with more luck, you're as pikon as me), please leave my blog this instant because you might take this personally and leave stupid notes which will make me even more pikon. This is not directed to nurses in general. Ok? So just go. Leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason why I've never been serious with any form of competitive sports (or anything that requires competition -- except maybe for my grades...nerdo...) is that I'm so pikon. Just an hour ago, my batchmates lost the last game of the championships to the nursing people, and I think if any person from the opponent could have heard me, they could've killed me on the spot. So that's why I'm now going to rant on my virtual territory and will direct all my powers towards Nursing player number 8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You stupid, ugly, poster boy for Marfan's Syndrome!!!! I hate you! I hate your stupid face! I hate your stupid knees which are too knobby and potato-like. You vile conceited creature! I'm gonna make your life miserable in internship because, oh yes, I'm gonna be YOUR BOSS!!! I'm gonna make you wipe every patient's ass. And even if I don't see you back in the wards, I just hope to God you migrate to Dubai or some remote place together with your little nurse's lunchbox so I'll never have see your stupid face ever again!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew!:D Congrats classmates! Hug:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-113206526975085159?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/113206526975085159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=113206526975085159' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/113206526975085159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/113206526975085159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/11/immature-entry.html' title='An Immature Entry'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-113153721879641064</id><published>2005-11-09T19:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T14:08:45.926+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pussycat</title><content type='html'>In reaction to Peej's blog which, by the way, gave me a headache (don't get me wrong, he writes beautifully. It's just that a brain crammed full of endocrine diseases can't stand all that drama ;) ), I'm gonna write about something utterly mundane -- my cat Garfield. Ehem... ehem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5884/105/1600/DSC03902.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5884/105/320/DSC03902.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Garfield. She is neither persian nor siamese but we love her all the same. She wandered into our neighbor a year ago and had stayed ever since, I guess, because we have the best garbage. I honestly believe Garfield is some real person reincarnated because she likes doing "human" things like sitting in this position and going to bed (literally) in a supine position while hugging the kids. We also have another cat named Mr. Suabe (go figure). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5884/105/1600/Mr.%20Suave%20de%20ket.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5884/105/320/Mr.%20Suave%20de%20ket.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate him because he's thin and ugly and he looks like some really sleazy french animal. (Sacre bleu!!!). Subconsciously, my family hates him too so, unlike Garfield, he's not allowed inside the house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehe that's it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-113153721879641064?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/113153721879641064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=113153721879641064' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/113153721879641064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/113153721879641064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/11/pussycat.html' title='Pussycat'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-112473593416210544</id><published>2005-08-23T02:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-23T02:38:55.076+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zab</title><content type='html'>I'm writing about Zab because he told me to and you know how he's KSP like that. Ehem, ehem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Zab.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zab is my friend because, unfortunately, since Justin had to deal with him for ten years, it also means I have to do the same thing for about the next remaining years of my life. The only 2 things we have in common is we both have strange names and we're both wise asses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about him the other day when I saw this sleek black Ford Explorer bearing the plate number ZAB 234 right cruising along Edsa beside an uglier and older vehicle with PWE 946 written behind it. Yes, my friends, this sums up what I know of Zab, he's really masungit. Like he's having Toxic Shock syndrome from some huge tampon that's stuck up his ass. (ganda ng onomatopeia ko no?) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really, it's only because he couldn't care less about other people if you didn't care to know him back. It's like a reverse psychology KSP thing he invented mixed with your typical A-boy superiority complex. So, thank God I made the first move (Um, Zab, masungit ka ba talaga?). And it was the start of a beautiful friendship filled with insults and comebacks, and 3 hours worth of frozen lime-flavored margaritas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Zab don't kill me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-112473593416210544?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/112473593416210544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=112473593416210544' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112473593416210544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112473593416210544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/08/zab.html' title='Zab'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-112473457076698120</id><published>2005-08-23T02:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-23T02:16:10.773+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Night Owl</title><content type='html'>Just had my 1st exam in my Infectious Diseases module. No I know exactly how it feels to have the life squeezed out of me, or my brains at least. God, just when you think that you've given your all, it still doesn't amount to good enough. I got out of the room feeling far less adequate to be a doctor. I mean, probably more than 70 or 80 or 90% of all illnesses are brought about by those stinky little bugs and bacteria and viruses and I can't even memorize 14 freakin' pages of freakin' antimicrobial drugs. Arrghhh information overload! No sleep, no social life, a migraine and most probably, a stinky grade to boot. I forget, why did I get myself in this mess in the first place? hehehe... itutulog ko na nga lang to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-112473457076698120?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/112473457076698120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=112473457076698120' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112473457076698120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112473457076698120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/08/night-owl.html' title='Night Owl'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-112297874739439598</id><published>2005-08-02T18:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T18:32:27.396+08:00</updated><title type='text'>We stand on a hill... (Potek ang baduy)</title><content type='html'>The great thing about pretending to be doctors and interacting with charity ward patients is that they always give you perspective. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:00am: &lt;strong&gt;Library&lt;/strong&gt; (Bodge and Joemal are buried beneath a hill of neurology books and a lone orthopedic surgery book, trying to think of a decent diagnosis to discuss with Dr. Aquino, aka, FPJ’s doctor, for F.F., 50 year old comatose woman from Novaliches, Quezon City.Bodge is suffering from dry cough and colds of 4 days duration)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bodge: &lt;em&gt;Cough…cough…&lt;/em&gt; Leche ang hirap naman nito. San ba talaga yung problema niya? Sa midbrain? Diba sira na yung cranial nerve 3, 4 and 6? Pero nabubuksan pa rin niya mata niya e.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joemal: Oo nga, ayus pa cranial nerve 3 niya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bodge: Hindi nga? Leche. Ayoko na. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joemal: Feeling ko sa cortex problema nito. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bodge: Ano, pwede ba yun? Buong cortex? Diba usually lateral lang yung mga ganun? Takte Joemal, alam mo kung ano gusto kong gawin ngayon? Umupo sa isang sulok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joemal: Ano? &lt;em&gt;Laughs.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bodge: Oo, mga tatlong oras lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3:00pm: &lt;strong&gt;Neurology Ward &lt;/strong&gt;(Bodge and F.F.’s daughter are standing at the foot of F.F.’s bed. F.F.’s is buried underneath a hill of NGT and respiratory tubings, IV drips and catheters.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bodge: Ate, di ba i-susurgery dapat si Nanay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F.F.’s daughter: &lt;em&gt;Smiling.&lt;/em&gt; Baka hindi na e…kasi sabi naman daw maliit pa rin yung chance na bumalik siya sa normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bodge: Eh…ano po yung ibang choices niyo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F.F.’s daughter: &lt;em&gt;Smile brightens down a notch. Microexpression shows despair.&lt;/em&gt; Di ko nga alam e…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So whenever you’re having a bad day, always remember that the hill you’re climbing is probably a great deal smaller than you think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-112297874739439598?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/112297874739439598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=112297874739439598' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112297874739439598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112297874739439598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/08/we-stand-on-hill-potek-ang-baduy.html' title='We stand on a hill... (Potek ang baduy)'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-112190314230039597</id><published>2005-07-21T07:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T07:45:42.303+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monkeying around Dr. Maligaya</title><content type='html'>Because sitting in a Legal Medicine lecture is such excruciating torture, Mij and I played this silly little game. You have to write one line of poetry, fold the paper, and let the other person write another line without her seeing the previous one, and so on and so forth. Here's our masterpiece entitled...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Death Anchor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If sadness were a pool, I'm drowning in it&lt;br /&gt;O! The fate, the terrible fate!&lt;br /&gt;Therefore, love is the source of all misery&lt;br /&gt;But the stones have fallen far through the darkness&lt;br /&gt;The coldness of his heart stings me like when you eat frozen grapes and you get brain freeze&lt;br /&gt;To die in the rain, alone.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we're such stupid ass fools. But do try this, I'm sure your poem would be even weirder:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-112190314230039597?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/112190314230039597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=112190314230039597' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112190314230039597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112190314230039597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/07/monkeying-around-dr-maligaya.html' title='Monkeying around Dr. Maligaya'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-112179619853256041</id><published>2005-07-20T01:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-20T02:03:18.536+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It happens about a few times a year when I feel like this really old tire under a really huge truck that's driving through this deserted highway under the scorching, blistering heat, that suddenly..."BOOM"! Just bursts and loses...life? Meaning? Initiative? Maybe, but today, just for today, I feel sad and empty. I want to feel sad and empty. I want to wallow in it. If there was such a thing as a sad and empty pool, I'd like to bathe in it with my clothes on and drink it in till my lungs burst. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've always had this certain aura that emanates "I don't have any problems! I'm normal." I just wish sometimes that people won't be deceived because I do. Crippling ones. Hehe pero syempre if people would ask, I'd deny having them because being a free spirit (what Maggots calls me) is safer and less complicated. And I wouldn't want to add to the world's emotional garbage. It has enough problems of its own. I can only think of 2 people who I can talk just about anything with. Just is one. And the other is on her way to the States for journalism school next year. Argh!!! Just the thought makes me want to weep. Maggots I'll miss you!:( Anyways for now, I'll just have fun wallowing in my misery with Just on the phone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-112179619853256041?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/112179619853256041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=112179619853256041' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112179619853256041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112179619853256041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/07/it-happens-about-few-times-year-when-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-112148641389643809</id><published>2005-07-16T11:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T20:07:48.306+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ciudad I love you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5884/105/1600/Ciudad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5884/105/320/Ciudad.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciudad last week&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5884/105/1600/ciudadmayrics.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5884/105/320/ciudadmayrics.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciudad 4 years ago&lt;br /&gt;Alin...alin...alin ang naiba? (Kathy G ninakaw mo pictures mo:D)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Homaaaygaaaad for the first time in 1 million years tumugtog ng buo ang Ciudad! As in Mikey, Jeff, Mitch and Just. Ang ganda ng Dance Lessons, gusto kong umiyak at gumulong-gulong sa sahig kasama ni Kathy G. Sana di na kayo maghiwalay ever. Sana magpaahit na ng Arabo face si Jeff at sana laging naka-stripes si Just:) Si Mikey inspired...yehiii...get a life, you fool! At Mitch, sana ipacheck-up mo na ang TB mo. Baka mahawa kami.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Quark: Bat di mo sinabi mag-N-NU si Neil Gaiman!?!?! Arghhhh!!!!&lt;br /&gt;To Jeff: Sunugin ko yang comics mo e.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-112148641389643809?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/112148641389643809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=112148641389643809' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112148641389643809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112148641389643809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/07/ciudad-i-love-you.html' title='Ciudad I love you'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-112125528764955437</id><published>2005-07-13T19:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-13T19:48:07.656+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Come True #7</title><content type='html'>Monday woke me up with little itty bitty butterflies in my stomach. From excitement, not nausea. Nothing was gonna ruin my day. Not even the freakin' Psychiatry finals, not the lazy samplex idiots who will again survive and most likely get a higher grade than me, not even the fact that I was stupid enough to leave all my carefully laid out comics and books at home...because...Neil Gaiman was AT LAST coming in my side of the world. As in Neil Gaiman!!! The guy who dreamt up the Endless and Books of Magic and Stardust and Coraline and other nice gory stuff. I really love this guy. It's like he has the same special something that Salvador Dali was made of. Basta, I don't care if I can't even understand the deepest depths of his writing like so many posers say they do, all I know is I'm dazzled at his work.Completely dazzled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I sashayed through Gateway with Chabelita and Mommy Maan after a short train ride and there he was, right in front of me. As in in front of the huge mob that's in front of me. Couldn't say I almost fainted but if my hair could stand up, it would. And I felt my heart beat fast and my toes curl (weird no?). And he talked with this lovely Cockney accent (according to Anna)and he was so nice and he kept on saying how impressive so many Filipino writers are...Sigh...I wouldn't have minded if the ground opened up then and there and swallowed me up. So anyways, the best thing I got out of that thing was a distorted picture and having him stand 1 meter away from me, so much so, I could almost smell his aftershave (but I didn't coz apparently, he didn't wear any).But it felt like heaven. Like meeting Brad Pitt or something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, however, I found out that Chabelita had her #1 Sandman comic signed, had a picture with him and he even took her drawing of Dream. ARRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!! Selos!!! I hated her for about 10 secs and was ranting for about 15 minutes. Moral of the story is, never leave the cue no matter how long it takes coz Neil Gaiman will always be nice enough to sign everybody's stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-112125528764955437?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/112125528764955437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=112125528764955437' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112125528764955437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112125528764955437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/07/dream-come-true-7.html' title='Dream Come True #7'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-112090548827786607</id><published>2005-07-09T18:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-09T18:38:08.283+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss Melai</title><content type='html'>Just opened my blog a couple of minutes before going off to another high-calorie date and was greeted with a pleasant surprise. Melai the &lt;a href="http://http://www.uglysullengirl.com/blog.html"&gt;uglysullengirl&lt;/a&gt; found me! Hahaha! And of course, memories of fringed edged pants, scruffy sneakers, little school concerts and nights of cramming our Marketing paper came into mind. I really miss this chick and I really love reading her blog for 2 reasons: 1) because she's a fantastic writer with  words you'd like to devour off the page and 2) she writes so romantically about New York, giving me the chance to breathe in all the culture while being miles away. I feel a bit envious of her actually. She's like the glorified bunny who literally has all the time to smell the flowers (hahaha and I mean a nice fresh bunch of spring blossoms and not the odorless, wilted santan that is Aurora boulevard). I wish I could swim in a similar kind of melting pot of intellectuality, entertainment and all other pleasures and not think about how things are so deplorable and chaotic in this side of the world. But for now maybe I could just content myself with what I read and dream a little harder until it comes true. And maybe soon, I'd be laughing with Melai under a little cafe umbrella, sipping 5 kinds of lattes to my heart's content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neil Gaiman's HERE!!!! Happiness galore!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-112090548827786607?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/112090548827786607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=112090548827786607' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112090548827786607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112090548827786607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-miss-melai.html' title='I miss Melai'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-112072059131312094</id><published>2005-07-07T15:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T15:28:02.303+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Phewww...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5884/105/1600/bicol32.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5884/105/320/bicol32.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehehe I'm such a lucky bastard! I left my medical bag with P12,000 worth of equipment in the pedicab but the Mamang Padyak graciously gave it back to me after I made sungit to him about not having change for 20 bucks. He probably realized na walang silbi sa kanya yung stuff but still, sorry manong! I'll try to be nice to you next time and have lots of barya in my pocket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a cute little picture of me in a med mission in Bicol pretending to know more than I actually do and putting one's "kabuhayan package" on the line. Hehehe wherever he is, I wish him good luck and lots of babies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-112072059131312094?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/112072059131312094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=112072059131312094' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112072059131312094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112072059131312094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/07/phewww.html' title='Phewww...'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-112052385207785675</id><published>2005-07-05T08:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-05T08:37:32.080+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hate Letter</title><content type='html'>To all those who used a samplex and stole a copy of yesterday's Psychiatry exam, I hate you because I know that you probably got more than half of the questions correct without sweating a brow and I, on the other hand, had to lock myself in my bedroom for 2 freakin days, not see my boyfriend (not even watch any of his gigs for the last month because of schoolwork), and sleep until 3am just so I could reassure myself that I had enough knowledge to at least pass. Yeah, I know life is unfair but someday, life will catch up on you because you can't use freakin' samplexes to diagnose a brain tumor or do colon surgery!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Epiphany for the day: Lala Fish chips and low fat milk are good for drowning your sorrows in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-112052385207785675?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/112052385207785675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=112052385207785675' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112052385207785675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112052385207785675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/07/hate-letter.html' title='Hate Letter'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-112022110568851635</id><published>2005-07-01T20:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-01T20:31:45.690+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Which of the Endless are you?</title><content type='html'>I personally think I got the wrong endless. I secretly wanted to be Dream. Hehehe! Feeling star!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-112022110568851635?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/112022110568851635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=112022110568851635' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112022110568851635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112022110568851635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/07/which-of-endless-are-you.html' title='Which of the Endless are you?'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-112021949556065909</id><published>2005-07-01T19:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-01T20:04:55.566+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Groupies!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5884/105/1600/groupies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5884/105/320/groupies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-112021949556065909?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/112021949556065909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=112021949556065909' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112021949556065909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112021949556065909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/07/groupies.html' title='Groupies!!!'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-112007021228953100</id><published>2005-06-30T02:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-30T02:36:52.293+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bloomfields Mania!!!</title><content type='html'>Just had a fantastic time with my chicks, Niña, Joy and Dada (with our cute little outfits), and my homeboys, Marvin (the corny non-dancer), Andrew (the boogie boy) and Ken. We went to a Bloomfields band gig, me for the 2nd time and still loving it. That drummer is just too cute for words! Can I just take him home and put him in between my stuffed toys??! Grabe, my favorite would be his rendition of Johnny B Good. As in, swoon-swoon! Grrr to Ronnie for both having a thing for him and not telling me! Di bale, you can have him. Having the hots for him just feels too pedophilic for me:P Cheers to everyone in the band and thanks for bringing the 60's fun back to us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a haiku for my sorethroat:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                 Pharyngitis&lt;br /&gt;Like ten thousand cats scratching&lt;br /&gt;          like mad. Cough. Cough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-112007021228953100?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/112007021228953100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=112007021228953100' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112007021228953100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/112007021228953100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/06/bloomfields-mania.html' title='Bloomfields Mania!!!'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-111995417850245187</id><published>2005-06-28T18:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T18:22:58.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh happy day!</title><content type='html'>Today is such a funny day. I expected it to be a bad one, considering I fell asleep at 3am and I had to have a tete-a-tete with a schizophrenic patient who believes she has psychic powers at 8am. But knowing me, I try to look for a ray of sunshine. Actually, trying hard na nga e to the point of merely entertaining myself with my little anecdotes and my little witty insults targeted to Derry. &lt;em&gt;You  litol slimey traitorrrrr!!!! &lt;/em&gt;Oh, I so love to laugh! Hwahaha! Med school is so freakin' routine-ish that sometimes I feel like I'm being swallowed by this huge gray sticky cloud of doom made up of weeks without rest, depressing terminally ill charity ward patients, deplorable facilities (buti nalang the hospital is right beside the school so if you hyperventilate because of your classmates' BO in an aircon-less room or get some enterobacteria from the toilets, mabilis lang ang trip to the ER diba?:) ) and unexcusably incompetent and boring teachers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now and then, I guess God allows a little magic into your life. Today I did a Leopold 1 maneuver on an 8-month-pregnant lady and felt...magic. Like the tingling sensation Aladdin felt when he touched the magic lamp, I suppose. In one instant, I felt a mixture of a lot of things...love, joy, hope... and all the good things you expect from life. And you feel everything bad just melt away. And you think, God, everything is just so worth it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-111995417850245187?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/111995417850245187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=111995417850245187' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/111995417850245187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/111995417850245187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/06/oh-happy-day.html' title='Oh happy day!'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13897379.post-111953884389729742</id><published>2005-06-24T14:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T23:50:45.653+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two star-crossed lovers...</title><content type='html'>My last Psychiatry class today was quite interesting. My funneeee professor with the so-fake-it's-so-true British accent was trying to hook together two ex-lovers, na itatago ko nalang sa pangalang Poy and Jaolo. Maybe he was thinking that, compounded with his excellent wit and countless uber-romantic Shakespeare material memorized by heart, he was doing them a favor. Au contraire to the couple's turbulent history. I've always found the concept of soulmates utterly absurd but with the way endless gossip and heckling these two are practically swimming in (backstrokes and everything), I think I can make do with the belief that 2 people can be stuck together forever with an imaginary stainless steel umbilical cord whether they like it or not. Like Atlas with the world on his shoulders. Or the derma patient in the wards with untreatable icthyosis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooomaaaygaaad!!! They're playing a slow version of Growing up by Gary Valenciano! Oh no, mixed emotions of pleasure and distaste...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13897379-111953884389729742?l=freakinsobstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/feeds/111953884389729742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13897379&amp;postID=111953884389729742' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/111953884389729742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13897379/posts/default/111953884389729742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://freakinsobstory.blogspot.com/2005/06/two-star-crossed-lovers.html' title='Two star-crossed lovers...'/><author><name>Bodge</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08857336523572944761</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
