#medlife

Honestly, this was such a reality check in the best way. 🩺 The lesson I’m taking away is that school is more than just exams, it’s about learning how to work with people and handle the pressure with a smile. From planning our booth to actually making it happen.

Hago pero happy gyud! 🫠✨

It’s more than just a grade, it’s about the laughter and the passion for what we’re doing. Nindot kaayo ang feeling to see the booth full of life. The process was a bit crazy, but the teamwork was even better.

I’m just grateful for this solid crew and big, big thanks to every single person who dropped by our booth—you guys were the best part of our day! 🩹✨

I love my profession but yeah it is also tiring. Yesterday nag reliever ako sa isang clinic and then night duty after that day. Ayuko naman ma abuse yung body ko just because I have the strength, you know your body will also pay off if you don't take care of yourself.

Just today I decided na kahit may errands ako and training na kailangan gawin is mag off muna ako kasi wala pa akong proper sleep lalo na at galing ako sa night. Just currently adjusting pa din pero things go smoothly and I am very grateful to the Lord because dahil ito sakanya lahat. I still need to study and work on another practice.

Things never stopped kahit na you achieved already something. Always be humble the top advice sakin ng parents ko and my seniors in my field and other medical field. Never ever think na madami kana din narating kahit na meron kana talaga mapapatunayan because humbleness in life is a very positive thing and will teach you in life.

Life now feels too eventful. I still can't believe we now split our lives between pre COVID< COVID and post COVID eras. And how different our lives all were in each of these stages, not to mention, the hospitals where we work or our medical schools.

It's funny, I used to feel so busy as a student. Or think I was busy as an intern, resident etc.

but really. it never slows down, you just get busier.

I used to wonder how senior physicians juggled everything - kids, conferences, research, teaching, presentations and clinical work.

I've realized over time you just get to used to it. It almost creeps up on you over time and you suddenly realize you've accumulated a lot of seemingly small projects that just turned into boulders over time. And how you manage to keep it all in the air is about as mysterious to you as it is to everyone else.

But, on the other hand. Every moment of every day is valuable suddenly.

I just watched the bear and so much of clinical medicine is similar to that level of adrenaline and to an extent, drama. Time is always against you.

Your time is suddenly ultra valuable and how do you determine what is important and meaningful is suddenly really interesting too.

if you only have a finite period of time on this planet. what do you do with it and the skills that you've gained or have been given to you.

I'm increasingly frustrated by the insane work hours, the low hourly wages, the lack of support for residents... but simultaneously grateful to have a car that I can drive to work, a condo that I own, a steady income that I can support myself with, and so much more.

I got paged at 9pm. Things were getting worse. There was nothing more we could do. I had to call his family and tell them that this was it. He wasn't going to survive the night.

Over the phone, I listened to their sobs, but kept a straight face. As I waited for them to arrive, I joked around with the nurses, got hungry and craved social tea biscuits... and then I thought, am I heartless? Or is this just how we cope?

So I don't think about how I devastated them with a single conversation, how I destroyed their night and changed the course of their life.

So I don't think about how these people will lose their father, husband, brother, friend.

So I don't think about how quickly it'll deteriorate once we stop treatments, and how he'll pass not even two hours after that page.

So I don't think about how I would feel in their shoes, if that was my family.

So I don't think about how this morning, I was still talking with this man, giving him ice chips, holding his hand, and telling him we're taking care of him.

So I don't think about the message I left on his voicemail addressed to his wife that she'll have to listen to once she's home, a cruel reminder of this awful night.

So I don't think about how powerless we are, despite all the advancements in medicine.

So I don't think about how this is only one of the patients I lost today, and one of the many I'll lose in my career that's barely started.

I don't think I'm heartless. I got into medicine because I'm not. So these have to be coping mechanisms, right? But it still doesn't make it easier. In any case, it probably makes nights like these harder.