Hard times

2013 has turned out to be an extremely trying year for the Philippines. Not that we've ever had it easy but we've, more or less, learned how to deal with the natural disasters, corruption, peace and order situations, and poverty that seem part and parcel of our lives. But this year, it has been especially hard.

In August, my hometown of Zamboanga came under siege by separatist bandits which resulted in 19 days of fighting between them and our police and Armed Forces.

After it ended, we'd barely begun to recover when nonstop rains caused citywide flooding, the likes of which Zamboanga hadn't experienced in decades.

While locals, members of the national government and concerned countrymen tried to help us get back on our feet again, a 7.1 magnitude tectonic earthquake hit Central Visayas. It greatly affected the cities of Cebu and Bohol and caused widespread damage to infrastructure as well as death and injury to people and displaced hundreds of thousands from their homes.

And, while we were praying and hoping for the best, the worst came and plowed through Central Visayas. Super Typhoon Haiyan, one of the strongest storms in world history to make landfall, smashed through Leyte, Samar, parts of Cebu, Negros and Palawan, and left in its wake indescribable devastation.


The entire country is still reeling from this latest incident. The delivery of aid to survivors of the monstrous typhoon was initially very slow due to many factors and has only recently started to flow more smoothly with the arrival of international aid.

It's going to take a long time to rehabilitate all that has been destroyed - from Zamboanga to Bohol to Leyte - but I'm optimistic that we will get there eventually. I'm inspired at how Filipinos have come together to support each other despite our differences in opinion. And it is even more inspiring to see how the world has come together to help us get back up on our feet, particularly for the survivors of Haiyan.

As I end this post,  I say a silent prayer in my heart, asking that we will be given some time to breathe, to mourn, to mentally and emotionally recover, and to rebuild before the next big challenge comes again. And may we never lose our faith.

Mood Music: Rise Up by R. Kelly

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Fire, rain and a mozzie

Well, I've definitely had a very eventful few months.

First, I was admitted for dengue fever for the third time in my life in the last week of August. I was admitted for four days but, thankfully, my episode was complication-free. The key to surviving dengue is early detection, staying hydrated and being closely monitored. When you suddenly develop a high-grade fever that lasts for 3 days or more, be proactive and visit your doctor instead of self-medicating and waiting for more symptoms to appear or to get worse. Never take anything for granted especially when it comes to your health.

Then, our city came under siege when Nur Misuari's band of MNLF bandits entered Zamboanga with the intent of taking City Hall and flying their flag there to assert their independence in the early hours of September 9. What ensued was 19 days of fighting with hundreds of hostages taken, homes razed to the ground, many lives lost and terror taking over our lives. Here's an article that chronicled what happened: Timeline - The Zamboanga crisis and what went before.

My husband, our two kids and myself were able to leave the city on the 13th day of the siege when flights resumed. Despite being safe away in QC, I was still worried sick because my parents had chosen to stay in the city. My brother, who's a soldier in the PAF and a member of the medical rescue team, had to go into the hotzone several times to pick up wounded soldiers with only a kevlar vest for protection. You can probably imagine what that was like for me and my family.

Then, on October 6, the boys and I were scheduled to fly back to Zamboanga. The city had been experiencing nonstop rains for two days already and I thought the airline would be cancelling our flight but we took off anyway. On the plane's final descent, the pilot suddenly pulled up and diverted our flight to Davao because the runway in Zamboanga was flooded. After 19 days of intense fighting and continued clearing ops, Zamboanga had to deal with severe flooding the likes of which hadn't occurred since the 50s.

After refuelling in Davao, we were flown back to Manila and our tickets were rebooked to another date. We stayed another five days in QC before we were finally able to return home.

Today, our city is trying to rebuild what was destroyed in the fighting and the flooding. Hundreds are still homeless and hungry. People are still fearful and paranoid. It's going to take some time before any of us can say that life is truly back to normal but we're trying. With God's blessing, we will get there.

Mood Music: Hey World (Don't Give Up) by Michael Franti

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No day like today

While attending the wake of my FIL last week, I had the chance to observe how members of the family, as well as those who came to pay their respects, dealt with Papa's passing and realized that these last rites are more about the living than the dead.

Yes, wakes are organized to honor the person who passed on but I now see it more as an opportunity for family and friends to have a venue to grieve, to reminisce, to comfort each other for their loss. For some, it's a way of trying to make up for any perceived shortcomings they may have had towards the deceased in order to help ease the burden of their guilt.

Having witnessed all that has made me resolve to do my best to show the people I care about how much I love them and value them while they're still alive. We may fight, disagree and hurt each other sometimes but I want them to know, in no uncertain terms, that they are loved and respected.

I need to make every day count.


Mood Music: An Original Man by The Yardbirds

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Until we meet again

"All Is Well" by Henry Scott Holland

We all knew that Papa's time with us was limited once he was diagnosed with stage 3 liver cancer last February but none of us were prepared to suddenly lose him without warning last Sunday, September 23. He actually "survived" until Tuesday but it was only through the aid of medications and a ventilator but the husbo and I knew he wasn't really there anymore. The family just needed Papa to hold on until J arrived from overseas so he could say his goodbye.

For the seven years that I was blessed to know Papa, I saw a man who loved his family above everyone and everything else except God. I never saw him angry nor heard him say anything bad about anyone. He was jolly, quirky, makulit, generous and kindhearted. He loved food. He never stopped dreaming. And his faith in our Lord never wavered.

I am crying as I'm writing this. I'm crying for the loss of someone I came to love dearly and to respect immensely. I'm crying for my husband who has lost his wonderful, loving father; for my mother-in-law who has lost her love and lifetime partner; for my boys who will never truly know one of the men I would've wanted them to emulate when they grow up, and whose love would've helped shelter, strengthen and comfort them through life.

To borrow words from Jimi Hendrix's The Story of Life:

The story of life
is quicker than
the wink of an eye,
The story of love
is hello and goodbye,
Until we meet again.

See you on the other side, Papa. We love you. <3


Mood Music: The End of the End by Paul McCartney

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"...you won't like me when I'm angry."

I am seething with anger right now. If there's one thing I absolutely hate is when people don't address me directly when they have something to say to me. I believe it's the height of poor taste, immaturity and ill-breeding when a person resorts to indirect verbal aggression instead of confronting someone and talking to them in a civilized manner.

Act your damned age, for cripes' sake! I've tried to tolerate your juvenile attitude for long enough and only out of respect for certain people. But you've finally crossed the line and I have no qualms about cutting you out of my life. You are a miserable, sad little person and it's not my responsibility to give you any love or understanding. Good fucking riddance.

BUT, before then...

Mood Music: Taste Revenge by Sanctuary

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my baby's tears

My little boy is very close to his Tita Cake (it's actually Kate but he insists on calling her "Cake"). She was his unofficial yaya during the first four months of his life. She was there in the delivery room with me when I gave birth to him. She was the one who gave him his baths because her long fingers and experience working in the nursery made the procedure look so easy. On those days when I was near out of my mind from exhaustion and lack of sleep, she took care of him without complaint.

When she decided to work in the same hospital where J works in Riyadh, it was a blessing because Jeolo had someone else to visit him, play with him and, unfortunately, spoil him. They'd play so roughly that you'd think Jeolo would end up crying all the time but he, in fact, enjoyed every moment of it. He clearly adored his Tita and always looked forward to seeing her.

Since we came back home a few months ago, he's had to deal with being separated from his Dada twice already. He actually came home to QC for about two weeks last May, just a month after we left Riyadh, to be with us. Good thing he timed his return to the MidEast to coincide with my sister's arrival for her annual vacation so it helped buffer my son's sadness and longing for his dad.

But today, the inevitable end to her vacation began and she left for Manila at noon for her flight back overseas on Friday. We didn't expect him to cry as much as he did when she said goodbye earlier. It was so hard to see him bawling and calling for her to come back. None of us had really expected it but almost everyone teared up because it was heartbreaking to listen to our original baby asking his favorite aunt not to go. :c

I can't help but wonder what effect these separations from the people he loves will do to him in the long run. All I can hope for is that I'll be able to provide him with all the love and support he needs to deal with these experiences for now.

Mood Music: Next Year by Foo Fighters

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far and away

It's been over a week since Jeolo and I left Riyadh and it's been pretty rough all around. All I can say is that unless you're part of a family where one or both parents work abroad while leaving the wife/husband and kids behind in their home country, you will never know the depth of the pain, sacrifice and strength it takes to be able to live life apart from one another.

On our first night back in the Philippines, Jeolo and I had to sleep over at an aunt's house because our niece in our house in Tandang Sora had just contracted chicken pox. And since I've never had it and Jeolo hasn't been vaccinated yet, there was no way we could risk exposure especially with my pregnant state. J even banned his parents from visiting us because he was afraid they'd carry the  virus along with them. We only saw my bro-in-law, Jon, who fetched us from the airport and helped me rebook our tickets for our flight to Zamboanga to the following day. We were supposed to stay in QC for a few days so we could rest a bit and gather our bearings but the husbo thought it best that we went home to my parents as soon as possible.

That night, Jeolo and I cried ourselves to sleep. I'd initially thought I was all cried out because I'd been bawling for nearly two weeks prior to our return to the Philippines but when Jeolo began calling for Dada to come home and make "tabi", I completely lost it. Our little boy cried for about 15 minutes before he finally drifted off to sleep while I kept at it until I mercifully fell asleep out of exhaustion at past midnight.

It's been an extremely difficult week emotionally for all of us. At least I have Jeolo and "baby tummy" to comfort me while J has had to deal with the silence of an empty room and the remnants of stuff we left behind. I'm extremely grateful though for the leaps in technology because despite the physical distance, we're able to talk constantly through Skype and Viber on our phones. It's not the same as being in the same room together but it beats the hell out of long distance calls, voice tapes and snail mail. I'm also consoled by the fact that he'll be flying home on the last week of May to stay for a few days. We'll be together for our anniversary, yay! :D And he's already requested for a split leave in September so he can be here with me when I give birth. :L

With God's grace and blessing, our projected two years temporary separation will whiz by and our family will be together again. For good.

Dada, we love you and miss you beyond words! 

Mood Music: Such Great Heights by Iron and Wine

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Forty-two.

There are only forty-two days left before Jeolo and I fly home to the Philippines and leave the husbo in Riyadh. We decided that I'd have our baby back in Zamboanga and that we wanted Jeolo to start school there. And to make most of our stay, I'll also be finishing my Masters in Nursing degree.

I'm looking forward to being home and spending time with my parents, to being the mom of a preschool child and a new baby, and to becoming a student again. It's going to be a challenge but that's going to be the least of it for me. The thing that's going to be the most challenging is having to do all that while having J far away from us.

I've been acting cool and collected this whole time but as the day of our flight draws nearer, the thought of being temporarily separated from the husbo is agonizing. 

I know that we'll both manage somehow because we always do with every obstacle that comes our way. I'm just going to miss him so much. :c

Mood Music: Get To Me by Train

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looking forward to better days

I've been meaning to update my blog for more than a week now but my pregnancy's kind of getting in the way. I'm having a slightly different experience this time around with lightheadedness and nausea constantly plaguing me. The combination makes me feel awful and kills whatever blogging mood I may have. :~

I can't wait for my first trimester to be over.

Mood Music: Better Days by Eddie Vedder

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a test of willpower

I had absolutely no plans of exercising today because I was pissed.

This morning, the weighing scale showed that I'd gained back the kilogram I'd already lost and I couldn't understand why. I've been pushing my lazy ass to run every day and my food intake has considerably lessened and has become healthier so why the darned gain? In my frustration, I ate rice for lunch then I decided I wasn't going to sweat it out on the treadmill. Yes, I can be very mature sometimes.

Three o'clock struck and I found myself reluctantly getting up and heading towards my instrument of torture. I told myself I'd only brisk walk for 30 minutes but when I was finally on the treadmill, I couldn't help but follow the program I've been using. And while I was wheezing through a sprint, I had a eureka moment: I was PMS-ing. Hmpf. I always gain a lot of water weight during this dreaded time of the month but lose it immediately after I get my period.

My dour mood improved immensely after that and gave me a renewed vigor to burn my fat out. I was so happy that I didn't skip on my exercise even though I wanted to. Then this song came on my iPod:

Lyrics | Proud by Heather Small

I'm feeling quite proud of myself today. :D

Mood Music: Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger by Daft Punk

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in blogging limbo

I seem to have hit a kind of writing funk. It's been two weeks since I posted anything and it's not because I have nothing to write about because I do. Problem is, I feel so uninspired. Every time I set out to make a blog entry, I end up abandoning it after the first sentence. Argh.

What is wrong with me?




Mood Music: I Don't Know by Lostprophets

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*sniffle sniffle*

We're down with the cold and flu. :~ J caught the virus about a week ago and inevitably passed it on to me. It's such a bothersome illness really especially for me because my sinusitis also acts up along with it. But I'm taking in a lot of fluids, gobbling vitamin C-rich fruits and popping a med to help relieve some of the symptoms. Hopefully, it'll be gone in a day or two and that Jeolo will be able to escape unscathed. It's so much harder when he gets sick.


Mood Music: Shake the Disease by Depeche Mode

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happily (n)ever after

I find it very saddening each time I hear of the end of someone's marriage. This year alone, several of my old classmates from both high school and college have separated from their spouses. I can't imagine how horrible it must feel to realize that what they thought was forever ended up lasting less than a decade.

It also makes me a little scared. I knew some of these couples when they were still very happy and giddy with love. What went wrong? What happened to make one or both of them give up on their marriage? When did they decide that enough was enough?

Aside from love, I know marriage entails a lot of work, a strong sense of commitment to each other and to the relationship, mutual respect, acceptance and compromise to make it last. I hope to God that no matter what comes our way, the husbo and I will never grow tired of loving each other, of forgiving each other, of forging ahead after every setback and in believing that we're in this for keeps.

Mood Music: Let's Stay Together by Al Green

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raring to go

I miss working. I miss interacting with other medical professionals, taking care of patients, learning and honing my skills. I miss being a nurse.

I'm lucky that I've been able to have the luxury of taking care of our child, seeing him grow and learn every day. No amount of salary can compensate for any of those moments in any way. I'm also blessed to have a husband who spoils me and who tries to satisfy most of my whims. We're lucky that he earns enough to support us comfortably and provide us with extra indulgences as well.

But I've also always said that I'm not cut out to be a full-time housewife. I crave for those feelings of independence, fulfillment and self-confidence that having a job used to give me. I don't enjoy being totally financially dependent on my husband. The Lord forbid something happens to him, I don't want to be left lost and incapable of supporting myself and our son. It's a morbid thought, I know, but not unrealistic.

I've already applied for a position at the hospital where I used to work, and where J works, but the very unreliable person at the HR department lost my papers. And she only admitted it to us after we waited for more than a year of numerous follow-ups. They're supposedly trying to solve the problem but I'm so frustrated because I've lost nearly two more years of my professional life waiting for it. I'm ready to move on but since I haven't practiced in nearly four years, I'm going to have a hard time getting hired by another hospital. xo

I'm not sure what our next step will be. J and I are still discussing it, trying to find a way to solve this particular problem. I'm optimistic though that we'll figure something out eventually with God's guidance. For now, I'm going to drown my frustration in a bowl of mac and cheese.


Mood Music: Fix You by Coldplay

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killing us softly

I've lost count as to how many times I've complained and ranted on Plurk about our chain-smoking flatmate. He's a much-older cousin of my husband who doesn't seem to have an ounce of respect for other people's choice not to slowly kill themselves with those cancer sticks.

Our flat is small with 2 bedrooms: one is ours while the other is Jeolo's playroom. Then there's a receiving room that was converted into another bedroom which J's cousin occupies, a tiny kitchen with a single exhaust fan and a common bathroom. With a living space this small, anyone who lights up in the kitchen can stink up the entire house easily. Worse is our bedroom door faces the kitchen dead in the face and each time we open it, it sucks in the kitchen smells, too. He also smokes in the bathroom and nothing can get my blood pressure boiling faster than to walk in there at one in the morning with the place reeking of smoke. Grrr!

I've asked J to talk to him in the nicest way possible about it. I know it's a sensitive situation for him because our flatmate is an older relative but I thought it well within our rights especially because of Jeolo. Guess what? He might as well have had a conversation with a damned brick wall. His winner reply was that his wife never complained. Well, excuse me... I don't think any of us look like his wife. We even  have several cans of air freshener within easy reach, hoping he'd take the hint and use it after each of his sessions but he either doesn't give a rat's ass about our request or he's deliberately messing with us.

I don't care if someone chooses to slowly kill himself by smoking. It's his body, his choice, his money but I do take offense when that person doesn't respect my choice not to expose myself or my family to it. We are sharing a home. We're not sitting together in a bar or some other public place where smoking is freely allowed. A person has to learn to compromise and consider other people's desire to stay healthy especially when young kids are involved. 

And no, moving isn't as easy a solution as you might think but I don't want to get into that right now. I just really needed to get all that out. But, I swear, I am this close to wishing emphysema on him. Or I may not have to because, at the rate he's going, he's probably going to have it in a few more years. My Plurk peeps have some nice suggestions though like installing a sprinkler system without his knowledge, using a fire extinguisher on him with the excuse that I thought the kitchen was on fire and loading his ciggies with watusi, a small, red dancing firecracker that's thinner than a matchstick so that when he lights up... well, you can guess at the rest.

Mood Music: Smokers' Song by Imelda May

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sick leave

I wish I could have taken one today.

I got my period around late morning and with it came my customary bout of dysmenorrhea. Then, after I woke up from a nap after noon, my head started throbbing and I felt like my right eye was going to pop out with each spasm. On top of that, my son was being particularly hyperactive and pigheaded; my warnings and reprimands fell on deaf ears. I felt a scream building up inside me the entire time but I kept swallowing it back, knowing that it wouldn't do any good.

I shared my frustration on Plurk and, in response, a friend gave me a virtual hug. That did it. Without any warning, the dam burst and I found myself sobbing quietly. I felt sad that I didn't have any close friends that I could run to and talk to. I felt trapped because I didn't have the luxury of going out by myself and disappearing for an hour or two. And, I felt horribly guilty for being mad and frustrated at Jeolo because I knew it wasn't his fault. He didn't know mommy was having a bad day and that she needed a break. He was merely being the playful toddler that he was except that today, the combination of physical and mental stress was something I wasn't able to  handle very well. So, I cried.

Thankfully, my loving sidekick suggested that I grab the laptop and isolate myself for a while in Jeolo's play room so I could get some alone time. I was hesitant at first because I knew he needed to sleep but since I couldn't keep the waterworks in check, I did as he suggested. I was able to spend nearly two hours in relative silence.

My headache and dysmenorrhea are almost gone now and my son is finally asleep. I'll end this day with the hope and prayer that I'll be back to my normal self in the morning, ready to take on the world.

Mood Music: Everybody Hurts by REM

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FRAZZLED!

It's one of those PMS-y days when my patience is almost nonexistent, every tiny thing annoys the crap out of me and I feel like screaming and pounding my fists against the wall.

I'm in desperate need of some alone time.


Mood Music: Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit

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first cut

Last Thursday, as I was preparing his feeding, my hyperactive 10-month old tried to stand up while holding on to a big pack of diapers that was propped against a low table. The pack slid down while he was on top of it and he hit his forehead on he pointed edge of the table. He screamed and when I looked at him, I saw blood trickling from his forehead. I rushed to stamp the bleeding with a muslin cloth as he bawled his lungs out. He calmed down after a few minutes and I was able to check how bad the cut was. It was approximately a 1/8" vertical cut right where your third eye would be. J was out so I called him to tell him what happened. He went to the hospital to get some stuff for dressing the wound and brought it home.

J was a wee bit agitated as I prepared the steri-strip, povidone iodine solution and some gauze. While I was cleaning Jeolo's cut, he kept giving me instructions on how to do it. I got a little exasperated and pointedly reminded him I was a nurse. He shut up after that and let me do my thing in peace.

And Jeolo? Well, after seeing stars in broad daylight he went back to his hyperactive self as if nothing had happened. Kids.

And I know we should have baby-proofed our room already. Before the accident, our plan had been to do it that weekend. Just goes to show it's never too early to begin baby-proofing your house. Lesson learned at Jeolo's expense.

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poor baby

Jeolo's down with German measles. I noticed a few red dots on his forehead and on his nape yesterday but I thought it was just prickly heat. But this morning when we woke up, his face, neck and torso were covered in red rashes. So I brought him over to the pediatrician next door and had him checked out and she diagnosed it as rubella. I did a little research of my own afterwards and was reassured that there's nothing to worry about. And Jeolo's as active and as hearty an eater as ever.

Who's worrying? *grin*

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one harried momma

I just came home from the Emergency Room after taking my son for a check-up. He's been running a fever of 38 degrees centigrade since yesterday morning. Then early this evening, he threw up and his fever shot up to 39. It made us worry so we decided to bring him to the ER (my son's pedia is on vacation for a month) to get him checked out.

Fortunately, the fever seems to be related to his teething alone because aside from it, there isn't anything else wrong with him. In fact, while we were at the hospital, Jeolo put up quite a show - giggling, laughing, smiling and playfully screaming at everyone around him. No one else could have looked more out of place there than him *shakes head*.

It also made me realize how impossible it is to take an objective stance as a medical professional when the patient is your kid. I feel like such an idiot for worrying so much. I tried to play it cool but truth is, I was very distressed. At least I feel much better now. The visit to the doctor was actually for me and not for my son.

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