I found out it was only for formality’s sake that I was made to read all those guidelines; bogus guidelines. I was out there on my own, guarding my every move cause a single mistake might cost the patient’s life—-or mine.

Dreaming comes for free, but working on that dream is the real deal. The fruits of your labor may not be very evident in the present but certainly it will yield succulent fruits in the future.

I am really at a loss as to how other professionals are able to work immediately with high wages while nurses, who I think, performs one of the most edgy works could not even buy a nice pair of shoes. It feels like we are poor monkeys roaming around the jungle looking for food in order to survive. That’s why not all RN’s are working in the hospital because they would rather choose to work in other fields which could pay them beautifully.

It’s just so sad to think that we are, all the time, referred to as warriors of health but not treated well in terms of salary. Remuneration which is supposed to be suited to the kind of work we render.

It was supposed to be a relaxing weekend for me at the beach. The weather’s beautiful, the beach’s magnificent; everything’s perfect. I spreaded my sarong in the white powdery sand under a talisay tree. I sat there siphoning a glass of nice, ice-cold mango shake. I was starting to read Paulo Coelho’s intriguing novel “Eleven Minutes”; “my weekend getaway is excellent”, I thought.

Enjoying every moment of frigging around, I indulged myself even deeper into a well-deserved slumber. Moments later I was awakened by frantic sounds of people. A young girl drowned and the concerned people was shouting “who’re doctors or nurses here?” I am a nurse but I’m not really well-versed when it comes to emergency situations such as what was transpiring.

With an honest heart and intentions clear as an infant, I hurried towards the victim. She’s unconscious. Of course I started with the ABC principle. She was not breathing so I attempted to revive her but nothing happened. Despite my focus I couldn’t help but hear the obtrusive comments of the surrounding cynics. And yes one of it was—oh well, you can read the first sentence of this post. Aid came over, and the girl was rushed to a nearby hospital. I heard she survived; obviously not because of me.

Talk about a shrinking self-esteem….

One time, as I was talking to my patient for an assessment, a relative of another patient who might have mistakenly identified me as a doctor, asked for my help regarding a consumed IV bottle that was still hooked up. I, without any tinge of doubt, immediately closed its flow regulator. Waking up from a delayed confusion, I realized I was not on duty and I should not have done that. The best course of action would have been to report the concern to the on-duty nurse. I was almost tempted to open the regulator back and let the patient’s blood fill the IV tube, but that’s utterly foolish. Well, my point is, I’m not on duty and I wont be liable if something happens to the patient. It should be clear to the nurse on duty to monitor his/her patient’s status regularly.

I’m not being shrewish about the incident; it was a plain and simple task but the rules says no, I should not be doing it. Ironically, asking an on-duty nurse, busy as they are, to close an intravenous regulator is also ridiculous. I guess this is one of the simplest forms of dilemma that envelopes nurses as to when their duty stops. Essence says it is, while the regulation says it’s not. Well I guess sometimes, logically illogical matters are indeed logical.

Being a nurse, I am well aware that prevention is paramount when we are talking about health; even a non-nurse knows that. Perhaps I was just so carefree about this concept. Just two weeks ago the weather wasn’t so friendly and I was starting to feel ill. I had a high fever and I blamed it on the lability of the weather. My parents started to panic when two days have passed and my fever showed no signs of going away and my sister was starting to feel feverish too. We were both rushed to the hospital and when laboratory results came, we were diagnosed to have Dengue fever. I was totally enfeebled by the disease and my queasiness grew even worse when the doctor announced that, by far, I am the first patient ever admitted in the hospital with a platelet count that reached 4,000 cells/mm³ (normal is about 150,000-400,000 cells/mm³).

I was so thankful that I recuperated well from the disease; I could have died. While I was convalescing I realized that my nursing knowledge could never separate me from frailty and susceptibility. More importantly, the experience somehow roused my noesis about prevention that have seemed to hibernate for quite a while.

Such a pretty couple. Just when work have eaten me up, where everything is about finishing a day’s work and leaving tomorrow to face the same routine, here comes this simple form of recreation telling me it’s ok to slow down and it’s fine not to worry. But sadly, on Saturday morning we were on shock to find out the cage open and the other bird missing. The culprit? A cat that frequents our backyard every night to chase some mouse. Apparently, she considered having a different menu for dinner that night. I was happy having the cat to get rid of the nasty rodents; or so I thought. At that moment I really wanted to grab a copy of the finest siopao recipe, lol.

On Sunday afternoon, the other bird was suicidal (often, they don’t survive without a partner). He almost drowned himself into the cylindrical container with his whole body upside down. But what would really draw your attention is his eyes. It’s sheer melancholy. I’ve seen a lot of those eyes. I’m a nurse and if you happen to be in a government hospital for a quite a while, you would see those everyday. They may come in different shape, color and form but all are just the same—-painful, lonely and helpless. Some on their deathbed lying hopelessly, and some clinging to the last thread of hope—a miracle. Those eyes are moving and piercing. Should I be moved, or should I grow callous and be numb?

Long have I realized that Nursing is one profession where you have to take a parcel of the patient’s pain to get your job done…

Yes, Cedric is my husband who was there for me through life’s ups and downs until Huntington’s Disease got hold of him and gradually devastated his being.
If only I could get him back by giving up everything… I would!
I took him to the movies, “Ice Age: The Dawn of the Dinosaurs”.
It was a sad movie though. Amidst the shrills and giggles of kids including my Cedric are my sobs and overflowing tears.
I know the time is near… I’m losing him…

I wrote this blog to share the lesson I learned the hard way. Treat each client as if he or she was your own…
I am left with no choice but to make his last days as special as possible. Whatever life may bring, I surely look forward to being one of the most therapeutic nurses who ever existed.

The mishap that my colleague experienced could have been preventable. She was only closing a pathetically improvised sharps bin (disposable mineral water bottle) when a protruding contaminated needle stuck in her right palm. The incident makes me squeamish and terrified every time I go on duties knowing that it could always happen to me too. Hospitals in developed countries use devices that permanently disable contaminated needles thereby reducing the incidence of needlestick; can’t the government afford such devices? Or the only thing that they could afford is to compromise the safety of healthcare workers?

The Philippine government should also grant healthcare workers their heartfelt attention especially on matters concerning the latter’s safety in the workplace. They could at least view it as a form of “Consuelo de bobo” from the little amount that these workers are earning in our country.

A part from the heavenly “falling in love”, and the heart-shattering heartaches is the unanswered question that keeps on bombarding my mind and makes me quiver—what really is in store for me in the future regarding my career? You know that feeling of emptiness; the feeling wherein nothing really makes you proud?

My age would step a year higher soon; I’m old and my supposed (what I believe) “personal legend” is lost in nowhere. What’s worse is that im not really sure if it’s lost or has no really plans of revealing itself to me. It keeps me thinking: am I really meant to become a nurse or my niche is sculpted on the walls of other professions?

Truly, I hope and pray that something interesting and beautiful would happen to my career this coming year, something gratifying, something worth embracing, something…