Could You Guard This Post?

This prayer/presentation was originally played at UST College of Nursing's 2005 Recognition Day. Turn up your volume as you watch the flash presentation, and I hope you'll get to answer His final question:

Could you guard His post?

(Original post from www.donghaeng.net)

/ruff nurse-du-jour

Some Hearts (Making the Most of Second Chances)

Six intravenous drips, a four-lumen Swan-Ganz catheter with an Intrajugular Catheter with sheath intact, a central venous pressure line attached to a Heparinized normal saline, two chest tubes, one of which is attached to a Gomco pump, the other to a water-seal one-bottle drainage, one pericardial tube, two Jackson-Pratt drains, a set of Pericardial wires, a Central/Midline Thoracic dressing reinforced with Transparent Tegaderm Occlusive Dressings, four leg/thigh dressings s/p vein stripping, a Foley catheter attached to a drainage Hospicare bag, and two peripheral venous access. Everything in one patient. Perhaps by now medical professionals who have read the aforementioned contraptions must have thought of just one thing—OPEN HEART SURGERY—and taking care of patients who just had one is sort of experiencing a living miracle—the miracle of the beating heart.


Source: http://www.antithesiscommon.com/Issue2/large/800_Licudine_Broken_Heart.jpg

I almost curse our Charge Nurse when he assigned me to admit a post heart surgery patient (s/p Emergency Pericardial Exploration with Extraction of Hematoma sec. to Pericardial Tamponade s/p 4-Vessel Coronary Artery Bypass Graft, s/p Saphenous Vein Endoscopic Stripping) while I was taking care of an intubated patient whose care necessitates more than one primary nurse. With conviction and composure and fear and anger, I meticulously admitted the patient to the ICU suite giving her the excellent nursing care deserving of a patient whose heart was stressed beyond its capacity.

The heart is such a spectacular organ. It undergoes a tremendous amount of stress throughout its entire lifetime, oftentimes enduring too much pressures and pains it does not deserve at all. Too much heartaches, too much pains, too much rejection, too much denial—everything too much to endure. The only thing that gives solace and comfort is the fact that despite these hardships, the heart has the incredibly pristine ability to restore itself, within the limits its capacity can carry.

Working with post-heart surgery patients is such a joy to the spirit. Not all people who undergo heart surgery survive their intra-operative course, more so of achieving a post-operative life regaining full health potential and capabilities. Much of them do not even reach surgery while some other dies while on the operating table. And only a very few people are given the second chance to live.


Source: http://www.milkjar.com/treeson/images/heartstory8.jpg

The heart has its own way of mending itself. It is a tedious process as the (cells of the) heart are but few of the body structures not capable of regenerating. When the heart cells die, they are forever dead. And no amount of nitroglycerine, trimetazidine, aspirin, or nifedipine could revive an ischemic heart.

But the heart does stretch beyond what its capacity can reach. It might be fragile, but is nevertheless flexible. It beats on its own, without being commanded on. It might skip a beat, increase its pace, fibrillate by itself, or not beat at all, without our influence or control. Sometimes, despite being a man of science, I could just not defy the fact that maybe there is truth to the adage that the heart has a mind of its own.


I’m not a heart surgery survivor, nor am planning to have one in the immediate future, but in my melancholic times, a visit to the Mended Hearts Organization is but a balm to the hurt. Mended Hearts, as the name implies, is an organization where people with heart diseases are brought together despite their health conditions and celebrate the meaning of their life and existence in the face of a heart condition.


In one of the issues of their journal aptly entitled Heartbeat, heart surgery survivors express their opinion regarding their hospitalizations and the comment of a patient who survived a heart attack moved me and my spirit. She stated:

“I realized that no matter how much I worked or how much I made, it wouldn’t change anything of importance in my life. It’s the people I care about that matter. Things don’t make you happy. It’s what you give away that counts, not money, but yourself and your time. (1)”

Being a nurse who takes care of these persons is such a huge privilege. Despite the spiralling costs of such procedures, perhaps all of us know that the gift of life can not measured nor bought in pecuniary terms. Interacting with people whose broken hearts have been mended gives one a sense of nostalgia and fulfilment. It is what we give away that matters. It is what we selflessly offer that counts. It is what we sacrifice that is important. And what we are is what really counts.

Hearts are not meant to be hurt—both physically and emotionally. And as owners of our hearts, whether lonely or not, it is our responsibility to take care of it by living a healthy lifestyle, leaving weighty burdens and heavy baggage, and listening to it every once in a while. Because we only have one, and that is a reason enough.

There are times when I wish and pray that I could be of help to others with the work that I do and the things that I write. And I hope that time will come and someone will tell me…

“Everyone has a purpose on this earth, and I think you have found yours.” (2)

***

Mended Hearts is a national nonprofit organization comprised of people with heart disease, their families, medical professionals and other interested parties. It provides educational information, and individual and group support to recovering patients and their families. You can visit Mended Hearts at this site: www.mendedhearts.org. (No promotions implied).

***

(1, 2) From Connie Butler’s What Counts is What You Give Away. In John Caswell’s Making the Most of Second Chances, Heartbeat (Mended Hearts Official Publication), Spring 2007, p. 8, 9, 11. Heartbeat Magazine image from the Mended Hearts website. All Rights Reserved.

The posted images are copyrights of their respective owners and the author does not, in any way, claims the ownership of the aforementioned images. The original links are posted respectively for reference.

Song Beneath The Song

Twenty-one years, eighteen days, seventeen hours, thirteen minutes and counting. In a world of ambiguity, helplessness and pains, perhaps an hour more would be too much to bear. When we were little, all we wanted was to grow up, to mature, to be independent, to be unconstrained by parental controls and the norms expected of us as we conform to the standards set by people superior to us. And true to the course of nature, we do grow up. Sometimes too fast that we feel our precious childhood had just left us. We whine, we cry, we become upset by the tremendous responsibilities accompanying adulthood and maturity. We cringe Erikson and suddenly cram to achieve intimacy, generativity and ego integrity erstwhile avoiding isolation, stagnation and the shoddily despair.

Perhaps we never have even the slightest idea of what we really needed, nor of what we really wish to happen—everything tends to become a mistake, and as such, to be treated as something to be avoided. But when we realize the grand scheme of things, we therefore come to the realization that things really do happen for a reason, and no matter how awry, grim or repugnant things might become, the purpose that permeates matter, things and time, is existentially good, and in one way or the other, has an effect in shaping what we are at present.

Yes I have the propensity to become overrated. It is a phenomenological truth. No amount of hypothesizing nor psychopathological analysis would explain the present me. I hide behind pseudonyms, pseudo-faces and so much broken links that knowing the real me will only lead to much ambiguity and confusion. Nosce te ipsum advices of us of our intelligent forefathers. Much simple words methinks for a task so huge a lifetime of deciphering would never be enough for an impetus. Yet we still keep on doing so, for answering that simple question is but the key to sharing ourselves with others.

While I was rummaging through my stuffs, I accidentally found a piece of paper I immediately recalled as my high school project. It was aptly titled, “Ten Things I Love About Myself.” What I’ve read is too much reality I seemed to have forgotten. After I reread the work that at first seemed foreign to me, sense came back into me and all I could feel is an unending gratitude that the things written in that piece of paper is indeed happening in my life. That was real solace. Why do I have to be reminded that there are things that I currently have but I do not have appreciation for? And yes, all I need was a piece of paper.

(The literature below shows the exact content and I have considered it prudent to leave it unedited.)

“TEN THINGS I LOVE ABOUT MYSELF”

I love myself…

Not only for being blessed with lots and lots of friends I can trust and rely on but for what they have done in making my life special and knowing that for the past years of our friendship, I never had any regrets in terms of being together with them and I know that this friendship would be endless…

Not only for all my problems and life struggles that test my strength and faith in God but for what they have done in transforming myself to become a better person and the assurance that God will always be at my side for every problem that might come my way…

Not only for having special talents and abilities I can use everyday of my life but for what they have been doing in making my life really unique…

Not only for my special traits, like the strengths that I have that amaze many people, I can carry hardships, I can carry burdens, I can hold happiness, love and joy, but for what I really am… I smile when I want to scream, I sing when I want to cry, I cry when I am happy, and I live when I just want to give up…

Not only for being proud about myself in the right time, places, and circumstances but for the fact that I had been respecting myself and others, I am aware of who am I, I neither seek definition from the person I am with, nor do I expect them to read my mind, and I am quite capable of articulating my needs…

Not only for the fact that I know love, and therefore I give love but for that I recognize that my love has great value and importance and must be reciprocated. If my love is taken for granted, it soon disappears…

Not only for the fact that I know God and I live according to His Divine Loving Providence but I know that with God, the world is my playground, but without God, I will just be played with…

Not only for having my entire family who is always there whenever I need their advices and guidance but for the fact that they are still there no matter what, even knowing that I am really an unpredictable creature and still knowing and believing in my own capabilities whatsoever…

Not only that I am highly privileged with what I am experiencing right now or with what I am currently enjoying in but for what I am possessing to have these little spices, a dash of inspiration and a dabble of endurance. I know that I will, at times, have to inspire others to realize the potentials God had given them…

Not only that I do not live in fear of the future because of my past but instead, I understand that my life experiences are merely lessons meant to bring myself closer to self-knowledge and unconditional self-love.

What are the ten things you love about yourself? If this post inspires you and you feel loved, then consider yourself tagged.

***

P. S. Tin-tin, thanks for being so nice. You are one of the reasons why I love myself better now. This post is especially dedicated to you. (Remember the previous pictures?)

Samson

Samson's parents were not able to have children, but they prayed to God that He would give them a son. An angel came to the parents and said they would have a son and he would be strong, and they must raise him as a Nazarite. Part of a Nazarite vow involves never cutting your hair.

Samson grew up and had the strength of several men. The Philistines hated Samson because of the damage he caused to their cities and fields. In one battle he slew 1000 of the Philistines all by himself using the jawbone of a donkey that he found on the ground nearby.

Samson's great weakness was beautiful women. Samson fell in love with a beautiful Philistine woman named Delilah. Night after night he visited her residence to spend hours with her.

Delilah had been promised a great sum of money from the Philistines if she could discover the secret of his incredible strength. Every day Delilah teased and begged Samson to tell her the secret of his tremendous strength. To get her to stop begging him on several different occasions he told her false things that would destroy his strength. He told her, "If you tie me with seven bowstrings I will lose my power."

While Samson was sleeping she tied him with seven bowstrings and shouted, "Samson! Wake up! The Philistines are upon you!"

Samson woke up and killed the Philistines.

Delilah accused Samson of not loving her because he lied to her and kept asking him the secret.A few more times Samson told her different lies and the same thing happened. e beat them all.

You'd think after one time Samson would get it that Delilah didn't really love him, but he thought he was so in love with her, he didn't care.

Delilah kept begging him to tell her his secret. Finally Samson told her "If you cut off all of my hair I shall be as weak as any other man."

When Samson was sleeping, Delilah of course cut his hair. The Philistines came; Samson woke to fight them, but his hair was gone and so was his strength. The Philistines were able to capture him and take him prisoner. Delilah, in the name of love, had betrayed him completely.

They blinded Samson and made him spend the rest of his days doing the job that an ox would do, grinding at the mill. He frequently was put on display for the Philistine people to mock him and to heap scorn upon him as their former mighty enemy whom the Philistines had reduced to a life worse than death.

One day Samson felt the breeze blowing through his hair which had begun to grow again, and he realized that his incredible strength was returning. He heard that there was to be a great festival in the Temple of Dagon, the Philistines’ false god. Three thousand people, including the Philistines’ most powerful political, military and religious leaders would be present in the temple.

Samson prayed earnestly, “Oh, God please forgive me for my sins and please use me for your glory one more time.”

At the festival in the temple of Dagon the people began to call for Samson to appear so that they could mock him and shout taunts at him. Samson had seen the temple of Dagon years earlier and knew how it had been constructed, its enormous weight bearing upon two tall round pillars in the center. As Samson stood between the columns the people laughed at him and spat on him. He prayed to the LORD God, "Oh, God, please be with me one more time. Allow me to avenge my people who are held in bondage by these people who worship a false and worthless god. Let your name be avenged."

Samson stretched his mighty arms around the two pillars and pulled with all of his great strength which had returned. The temple crashed around him with dust and huge stones falling onto the heads of Samson and the people who were worshipping the false god Dagon. All of the powerful political, military and spiritual leaders were present in the temple and they also were killed. Samson also died.

Source:
http://artists.letssingit.com/regina-spektor/samson/58dgz1x/reviews

Stand in the Rain

When I was 9, I sustained a fall at our bathroom. I hit my forehead from the tub, the skin opened up, and you could almost see my aponeurosis (galea aponeurotica) from the injured part. I was rushed to the nearest family clinic where I received local anesthesia and have my injured forehead sutured. The fall in itself is painless. The area was numb and all I could feel was blood rushing out of my head. However, when the physician starts closing me up, I could almost feel every stitch piercing my skin and my flesh. I had 6 pairs of stitches, and we went home with my head and spirit (broken) all sutured-up.

After 5 days, we went back to the clinic to have my sutures removed. At that time, atraumatic sutures, skin glue and absorbable sutures are virtually non-existent (or is it?). The doctor started cutting the sutures and pulling them out of my flesh with a mosquito forceps. I could literally feel the threads sliding and shearing pass my skin. Halfway through the purportedly pain-free procedure, the doctor admittedly confessed that he wasn’t able to inject some anesthetics over my forehead. He was removing my sutures without the benefit of freaking anesthesia. That explains the sensation of pain. And there I was lying still in the clinic bed, complacently uncomplaining of the pain I should have never gone through. I went out of the clinic, nevertheless, and there remains in my forehead the scar that bears witness to my childhood carelessness and unbearable sacrifice.

We all love to feel pain. I don’t know if other people do (or you guys do), but I have a personal penchant for feeling the queasiness, the almost intolerable sensation of hurt. I think it is because pain is what makes us feel more human, more humble, more lowly. Sometimes I think about all the pains I have endured throughout my lifetime—physical pains, emotional pains, psychological pains, spiritual pains—and how I have successfully transcended all of them (or how I am battling with them at present) and then I suddenly feel a personal bliss. If my memory would serve me right, my childhood pains all carries special treasures I call precious memories of my being-ness. The pains are the combinations of my downfalls, failures, successes, capabilities, weaknesses and victories as a man, as an individual, and as a person. Because we are always bound to experience pain in every single moment of our lives. Whether it be of an upcoming operation, or an uncomfortable medical procedure, or of a measly pinprick or a little rose thorn stuck in between your fingers or toes. Or of an impending separation with your loved ones, or the stretch of cardiac myofibrils when the person you really love broke your heart, or the pains of a broken heart mending. Or probably of the feeling of spiritual alienation, spiritual desolation or anger with The One. Pain will always be a part of our existence, had been, will be… will forever be.

One important thing about such painful experience is mostly not the avoidance of, or repulsion from pain. Sometimes it is the unconditional acceptance of pain that is what truly matters. It is in making most of second chances, of learning from these pains, and sometimes, becoming desensitized from them, but not completely numbing ourselves from the experience of it. Because sometimes, pains are inevitable blessings from Him, and all that we should feel is an unending, ever-flowing gratitude to the Source of All Things. And all we should do is to completely surrender ourselves—mind, heart, and all—to His Loving Providence.

***

A post regarding my existence during my 6-months absence will soon follow. I will be spending some time for my personal recollection (June 18-20) at Boracay. Drop me a line, and let’s spend a wonderful time in the tropical paradise.

-ruff-nurse-du-jour, 16-june-07, 10p

Brighter Than Sunshine

After a long hibernation, the man with an incredible heart is back for yet another season of joys, tragedies and pains. So, read on, and be one with me as I celebrate the end of loneliness and another start of a spectacular beginning.

***

He had already understood that he would never leave that room, for it was foreseen that the city of mirages would be wiped out by the wind and exiled from the memory of men at the precise moment when Aureliano Babilonia would finish deciphering the parchments, and that everything written on them was unrepeatable since time immemorial and forever more, because races condemned to one hundred years of solitude did not have a second opportunity on earth.

Because “there are things in this universe that we cannot control, and then there are the things we can. . . . Let fate, coincidence, and accident conspire; human beings must act on reason.

"Good bye Mr. Wigin tell them I'm strong tell them I'm a man."

From Cien Anos de Soledad/Snow Falling on Cedars/A Lesson Before Dying

-ruff nurse-du-jour, 12-jun-07, 3p

Lullaby For A Stormy Night

Okay, okay, okay. I'm not an anime fan (or so of Sailor Moon's). It just happened that I could not find a video of my *NEW MOST* favorite song ever, and this AMV's the nearest that I could find to none. So, here's to a beautiful start with hopes of beautiful mornings in every little day of our lives.

LULLABY FOR A STORMY NIGHT
Vienna Teng

little child, be not afraid
though rain pounds harshly against the glass
like an unwanted stranger, there is no danger
I am here tonight

little child, be not afraid
though thunder explodes and lightning flash
illuminates your tear-stained face
I am here tonight

and someday you'll know
that nature is so
the same rain that draws you near me
falls on rivers and land
on forests and sand
makes the beautiful world that you'll see
in the morning

little child, be not afraid
though storm clouds mask your beloved moon
and its candlelight beams, still keep pleasant dreams
I am here tonight

little child, be not afraid
though wind makes creatures of our trees
and their branches to hands, they're not real, understand
and I am here tonight

and someday you'll know
that nature is so
the same rain that draws you near me
falls on rivers and land
on forests and sand
makes the beautiful world that you'll see
in the morning

for you know, once even I was a
little child, and I was afraid
but a gentle someone always came
to dry all my tears, trade sweet sleep for fears
and to give a kiss goodnight

well now I am grown
and these years have shown
that rain's a part of how life goes
but it's dark and it's late
so I'll hold you and wait
'til your frightened eyes do close

and I hope that you'll know...
that nature is so
the same rain that draws you near me
falls on rivers and land
on forests and sand
makes the beautiful world that you'll see
in the morning

everything's fine in the morning
the rain'll be gone in the morning
but I'll still be here in the morning.

Hoping we'll still be here in the morning.

-ruff