tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88179468502650421122024-03-06T01:38:18.696+08:00A Reflected LifeEileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.comBlogger356125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-52585774000707426842022-01-01T20:34:00.000+08:002022-01-01T20:34:08.254+08:00Promises and Fears for the New Year<p>Came from our overnight stay in Binangonan and since we woke up late (because we slept at around 3:30am) we didn't get to wake up for the 8am mass at Sta. Ursula. We decided to see where on the way home we could attend mass and at around 4pm we arrived at the Minor Basilica of the National Shrine of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel in New Manila. Today, being January 1, the beginning of the year 2022, we celebrate the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God. Not by accident did we attend this particular mass, for in today's homily I felt His message ring loud and clear.</p><p>This title must be one that raises many a debate among non-Catholics or other religions who do not believe in honoring Jesus' mother. How many tears she sheds when she sees her children divided because of her. But today's priest/homilist said that the focus of this solemnity is on Jesus, as He is the one who is fully God and fully man, and yet chose a woman, wholly human, who will bring Him into the world. (Unfortunately, the church did not stream that particular mass, thus I have no recording to go back to, and must try to recall from memory). It focuses on God's mercy and grace, on God coming into this world. Not promising us that we will be free from pain, problems, or challenges, but with faith and God's mercy and compassion, that He will be with us. We must then not fear or worry, because we have a God who provides. (I may not be writing it the way it was conveyed earlier, but I do hope that those who read, may be comforted.)</p><p>I was teary-eyed as I have come across another rough road. The results of the ER-PR-Her2 came out near the end of November and from what I read, the cells were reactive to estrogen, which means I could take hormone pills. I have consulted with a new oncologist who has requested several laboratory and imaging tests. When the doctor asked when I can get the tests done, I said tomorrow, without really thinking that oh yeah, may bayad nga pala. When I inquired about the CT tests from NKTI where my doctor is affiliated, I was shocked to find that it would cost over 24k+. When I talked to my cousin about the recent events, she mentioned a relative of her husband's who worked for a lab. She was able to contact the said relative who works in the imaging department and was able to schedule me for the said tests - nang walang bayad. Why do I doubt and why do I fear? Our God is a God who provides. And the song that I have sung and God must have heard is one I will sing for those who may feel abandoned or need to hear this message of hope: <br /><br /><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">God will make a way</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Where there seems to be no way</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">He works in ways we cannot see</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">He will make a way for me</span></p><p>Fear not, God listens. Trust in Him. Here's to a year full of God's gracious promises fulfilled.</p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-16876253693635469632021-10-04T23:05:00.002+08:002021-10-04T23:11:23.309+08:00Size of a Mung Bean<p>Size of a mungo bean. That's what my oncologist/surgeon described the cancer tissue that was found in the larger tumor removed from my breast. 2mm. The night before, I read the words, googled, and tried as best I could to read the pathology report with all its medical terms. After weeks, almost two months of waiting, the diagnosis was final. The big C.</p><p>Why did it take that long? I really don't know. This whole process has been a rollercoaster. The waiting for results, not once but several times. Firstly the ultrasound, which was just a one-day wait. Then the result of the needle biopsy, which took about a week and which turned out negative, only to be told that the sample tissue that the needle took may have gotten the part that was benign. What a damper on that short inner celebration. Then the frozen biopsy during the surgery, which again turned out negative, but... yes there is always a "but". Further tests were done which took about 3 weeks. There was some good news with that biopsy result, with the lymph nodes removed and all other surrounding areas of the breast negative of cancer. But, (there it is again) "malignancy could not be ruled out". Immunohistochemistry was done which as I read was negative, but a re-test on the tumor found that a small munggo-sized papillary turned out positive. Invasive Papillary Carcinoma is the medical name of this type of cancer. Not my first time to have read this, as it came out in my research when I was trying to find the cause of the bloody discharge. A rare type of cancer, less than 1% of the types of breast cancers. Maybe this is why it took the lab technicians and doctors a long time to diagnose.</p><p>Next is the treatment. Good news is I may not have to go through radiation and chemotherapy. IF the next test (ER PR HER2) shows that the cancer cell is receptive, I may be able to just go through Hormone treatment. Another waiting, not sure again how long. But as always, more so now than before, taking everything one day at a time, and counting each day as a blessing.</p><p>As I was trying to think of the title of this blog, I realized that it was a Friday when I visited my doctor and he came up with that analogy of a mung bean. (I won't be able to look at a mung bean the same way again.) But no matter how big or small, our God is infinitely bigger and greater. In Him, I place my trust.</p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-51865176408061027592021-09-21T22:12:00.003+08:002021-09-21T22:28:40.011+08:00#NeverAgain Replayed<p><span style="font-family: arial;">#NeverForget<br />#NeverAgain</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Isn't it sad, that it has happened... again. Maybe not as blatantly open as before, but we have in our midst a dictator. </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px;">Dictatorships are often characterised by some of the following: </span><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px;">suspension of elections and civil liberties</span><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px;">; proclamation of a state of emergency; rule by decree; repression of political opponents; not abiding by the rule of law procedures, and <i>cult of personality</i>. (Wikipedia)</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial; font-size: 16px;">Do some of these sound familiar? A sign of a mature person is when they can take criticism or any opposing opinion, analyze and learn from them, maybe take some of them into account and become open to the idea that "yeah, they may actually have a point." But sitting in the highest seat of the country is one who when someone has voiced their opinion contrary to his, goes ballistic, blurts obscenities, insults this person's physical attributes, finds fault and focuses on that instead, and even threatens and finds ways to put the said person in prison. And his cohorts of yes-men and yes-women are only too willing to follow this dictator's whims.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial; font-size: 16px;">There is a cult of fear. I can feel it. Even I have a fear of publishing this article. Little unknown me with the handful of views may catch the ire of his trolls. Is it this same fear that people will vote for that dude in the 1st position to be the 2nd along with his puppet 1st, whoever he/she will be? Oh, what a messed-up country we have. But dear <i>kababayans</i>, we can make a change. Stand up to the mad man and listen to your conscience.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial; font-size: 16px;">In 2016, I knew that he was not the person I would want to be the leader of my beloved country. I believe it was when he cursed God and then the Pope. That was obviously a red flag. If he can publicly say that God is stupid, then we know the kind of person he is. One that is not God-fearing, who thinks that he is better than God. And that, for believers, should be a big, flashing, neon sign, that he should not be voted. But what happened? And what is still happening? </span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRQKvdCBpfRwBKUkk23abNAOUx5OOVyEF08KsOX7E9gWHpqMcGYOT_AfxV_aYM_o1EmXIllr6FvaaHVocihbHNHv07ky2-1vc-Dcw00kjdOoFJIYwjWGUhrqzJ1KlcbTCUUAf8AHLn-08/s600/Figure-4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="280" data-original-width="600" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRQKvdCBpfRwBKUkk23abNAOUx5OOVyEF08KsOX7E9gWHpqMcGYOT_AfxV_aYM_o1EmXIllr6FvaaHVocihbHNHv07ky2-1vc-Dcw00kjdOoFJIYwjWGUhrqzJ1KlcbTCUUAf8AHLn-08/s320/Figure-4.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Those arrested for illegal assembly, including Sen. Lorenzo Tanada<br />(Photo credit: <a href="http://martiallawmuseum.ph" target="_blank">martiallawmuseum.ph</a>)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: arial; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px;">I'm still trying to find the logic behind his loyal followers. They come from different backgrounds. I know some of my relatives and friends are. I'd like to think that some have awakened and realized their mistake. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px;">Many times it's only when he has personally attacked them or something or someone that they hold dear, that they are awakened by who he really is. But for the one who may be reading this and still thinks that he is God's gift to our country, please put yourself in the shoes of those that he has trodden on and abused, whose lives he has affected because of his actions or inactions. Don't wait for the time when you or your loved ones become the next victim.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiTdT_P8wpKDZ6tZgx8y2q6NHYPLINwmqah4m6cElT4Hl9MBic9FmgX4r2kLkd7f5Usva6a2DPzPk1TGxW5I8Je6NPPrd6uIBJ-tdi8BYqFYUoIMDo_hrdImpW-YBTpNUu5nxas0IfQ7w/s870/202105philippines_ICC_drug_war.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="580" data-original-width="870" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiTdT_P8wpKDZ6tZgx8y2q6NHYPLINwmqah4m6cElT4Hl9MBic9FmgX4r2kLkd7f5Usva6a2DPzPk1TGxW5I8Je6NPPrd6uIBJ-tdi8BYqFYUoIMDo_hrdImpW-YBTpNUu5nxas0IfQ7w/s320/202105philippines_ICC_drug_war.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Family/relatives holding up faces of victims extrajudicial killings<br />(Credit: <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2021/06/14/icc-one-step-closer-probe-philippines-murderous-war-drugs" target="_blank">Human Rights Watch</a>)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #202124; font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">Has he even said a word on this day? No. Because he himself declared Martial law after the Mindanao attack and he himself supports the son of the dictator. He himself had the dictator buried where only heroes are supposed to be laid to rest. Idol <i>niya yun</i>, so why would he say anything against him or commemorate one of the darkest days in Philippine history.</span></span></p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-65117525631975592132021-09-18T00:18:00.012+08:002021-09-20T00:32:18.341+08:00On the Road to Recovery - Stretching, Massaging and Dancing<p><span style="font-family: arial;">"<i>Parang 'di ka naman inoperahan</i>" I have heard this many times from people who haven't seen me in a while, whether in person or on video chat. Well, it has been about a month and a half since my operation, so except for my limited arm movement, I'm almost back to my old form. But the first time I heard this was the day after my operation from the doctors who saw me sitting on the bed after the initial dizziness wore off and I was tired of lying down. And the day after when I was discharged and walked out of the hospital carrying a bag on my good arm and walking the couple of blocks or so to where our car was parked. Sure I walked upright and thankfully there was no unbearable pain, but I knew there was still a long way to go 'til full recovery. As I explain to those who ask, there was pressure, like something was being pressed on my chest. But, I'm very, very thankful that there was no extreme pain, which is what I dreaded the most before the operation. I had medications if I needed it, but I only took a couple of those during times when I felt some pain or in Tagalog, <i>konting kirot</i>. The majority of the time though, there was no pain.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As part of my recovery process, I have been following some stretching exercises and massage techniques on Youtube. These are mainly to avoid lymphedema, which may develop for those who have had lymph nodes removed. </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pmPzxyaVNP4&list=PLFv82Irqe6LYVur17R1U7WM3FzLNwaEsK" target="_blank"><img alt="" data-original-height="549" data-original-width="743" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoCXzK-U5M_7nmeERqfYtxPFZhh-ugIXtyi8NCmc6o7BCXo0He4CpRGWbYrwvQtOsWFM9qlaqQsZ4C58vG3BndaTjjEUroU71fkUZl2oOeS-Ze3-UJES-t2S2oGuoJ6vm3OXa-LXacZdc/" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pmPzxyaVNP4&list=PLFv82Irqe6LYVur17R1U7WM3FzLNwaEsK" target="_blank">Bob and Brad: "Breast Cancer-BEST Exercises to Perform After Mastectomy-Stretches"</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">My only complaint about the above video is that they didn't do the exercises in real-time, so I would have to stop the video to finish a certain step and then start the video again, in several parts of the 10 stretch routine. <br />But since then, I've memorized the steps and haven't any need to go back to the said video.</span><br /><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ClB_nqi2u04&list=PLFv82Irqe6LYVur17R1U7WM3FzLNwaEsK&index=5" target="_blank"><img alt="" data-original-height="552" data-original-width="742" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyFzzwLZgsEoR-2UqUm9RkRCPDUKOUZu1qLKCo3gYq6mvlqufCR365uXee10CZn8cFnz4tp2OqlPxv0S6eAF39p9z3DyLbT2vHnVfSPlwW7J6pMNHFqd8AJLOjz0839bKkvNODj61jTE4/" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ClB_nqi2u04&list=PLFv82Irqe6LYVur17R1U7WM3FzLNwaEsK&index=5" target="_blank">Cancer Rehab PT's "Lymphedema Massage:Full Manula Lymphatic Drainage Massage..."</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Both these have been very helpful to me. I do the massaging techniques first since I've found that I can more easily do the stretching exercises after the affected parts have been massaged. There are many more videos and it's up to you to choose the ones that best suit your current condition. We all heal differently and at a different pace. But if need be, consult your doctor first before trying any of these techniques. I was wary at first about massaging my armpit which was also operated on, but the doctor who performed the surgery assured me that it was fine to massage that part of the surgical wound and encouraged me to do more stretching exercises. My main concern is what they call shoulder abduction. Initially, I could only lift my arm less than 45 degrees, but now I can go to 90 degrees or a little more, although I still feel some pull on my upper chest area when I try to push it too far.</span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />Before the operation, I would follow Zumba and other dance exercises on Youtube to try to stay fit. It was a frustration during the first 2 to 3 weeks when I realized I could not do many of the dance movements. But I started on the easier dance routines, not pushing my affected arm, and gradually trying the harder steps. I'm happy that for the most part, I am now able to follow my favorite dance videos. (<i>Pikit-mata ko ilalagay itong</i> video. Because this introvert wants to hide after publishing this.) Not quite there, my left arm not going up all the way. And that leg not wanting to go up, ahhhm, <i>hindi yan dahil sa operasyon... hindi ko talaga kayang sumipa ng mataas</i> haha! <i>Pasintabi na lang po</i>... (<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Eileen has now left the building</span></i>)</span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyhvUCrC6n7Q7uq5J-sx9WkieldSXPOVlJsF3j9K_GuOEmdjFLoP53KfA1HZb-R7VdZX5DjJL13DNHvi03DCw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o2amXB3yVWw" target="_blank">Earth, Wind and Fire's "September"<br />Choreography by Jisoo Yu & Dave Hart</a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-84108692784589314482021-09-15T23:08:00.006+08:002021-09-15T23:54:54.798+08:00Our Lady of Sorrows<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">"Sana ako na lang" - words that we hear parents say when they see their child ill and helpless. Seeing her child take those painstaking steps to Calvary, to hear the mockings of the soldiers and crowds, to see those nails pierce his precious body, to hear his last cry to the heavens, and to witness Jesus breathe his last, these were most likely the thoughts of our dear Mother: Sana ako na lang. She would have wanted to take his place, but she knew that it wasn't hers to take.</span> </p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">What sorrow Mother Mary must have felt as she held in her arms the body of her child, the baby she gave birth to, the boy she cared for, the young man who she witnessed preach, the grown man on His Father's mission, her Son crucified. It is a sorrow that is more painful than the piercing of a sword.</span></p></blockquote><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i>Truly, O Blessed Mother, a sword has pierced your heart... <br />He died in body through a love greater than anyone had known. <br />She died in spirit through a love unlike any other since His.</i><br />- St. Bernard -</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgESYzqqPFPa4vtJ5i9whNzdDbSJL-gWMQSgdJtcPeffz6w6cu0giYhMKPzisSxdTc-gn1bnA3GE35UmvvG38LzhjUwXS_ZqgO5cHRXlcnak7Gb9AoMhQZjgpxsqmdQBlIkSzMxjvjExhU/s2048/our+lady+of+sorrows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgESYzqqPFPa4vtJ5i9whNzdDbSJL-gWMQSgdJtcPeffz6w6cu0giYhMKPzisSxdTc-gn1bnA3GE35UmvvG38LzhjUwXS_ZqgO5cHRXlcnak7Gb9AoMhQZjgpxsqmdQBlIkSzMxjvjExhU/s320/our+lady+of+sorrows.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo credit:</span><br style="font-size: x-small;" /><a href="https://www.catholicmom.com/articles/2014/09/15/3-things-we-can-learn-from-our-lady-of-sorrows" style="font-size: x-small;">https://www.catholicmom.com/articles/2014/09/15/3-things-we-can-learn-from-our-lady-of-sorrows</a></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-align: left;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-align: left;">I attended the online mass at the Manila Cathedral this morning. On occasions such as these, even on the Blessed Mother's nativity, I half expect to hear a second reading and get disappointed when I don't. This evening when we read the readings from </span><a href="http://www.usccb.org" style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-align: left;" target="_blank">www.usccb.org</a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-align: left;"> before our daily rosary, I was surprised to see a Sequence. It was optional and a little long, the reason why most priest presiders would likely not have it read. It's a shame that it wasn't read as the words describe what this day commemorates and remind us to be one with our dear Mother, in her sorrow and ultimately in her joy.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">At the cross her station keeping,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Stood the mournful Mother weeping,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Close to Jesus to the last.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Through her heart, his sorrow sharing,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">All his bitter anguish bearing,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Now at length the sword had passed.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Oh, how sad and sore distressed</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Was that Mother highly blessed</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Of the sole begotten One!</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Christ above in torment hangs,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">She beneath beholds the pangs</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Of her dying, glorious Son.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Is there one who would not weep,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">‘Whelmed in miseries so deep,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Christ’s dear Mother to behold?</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Can the human hea</span><span face="Roboto, sans-serif" style="letter-spacing: 0.3px;">rt refrain</span></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.3px;">From partaking in her pain,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.3px;">In that mother’s pain untold?</span></div></span><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Bruised, derided, cursed, defiled,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">She beheld her tender Child,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">All with bloody scourges rent.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">For the sins of his own nation</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Saw him hang in desolation</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Till his spirit forth he sent.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">O sweet Mother! font of love,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Touch my spirit from above,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Make my heart with yours accord.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Make me feel as you have felt;</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Make my soul to glow and melt</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">With the love of Christ, my Lord.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Holy Mother, pierce me through,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">In my heart each wound renew</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Of my Savior crucified.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Let me share with you his pain,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Who for all our sins was slain,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Who for me in torments died.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Let me mingle tears with you,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Mourning him who mourned for me,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">All the days that I may live.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">By the cross with you to stay,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">There with you to weep and pray,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Is all I ask of you to give.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Virgin of all virgins blest!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Listen to my fond request:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Let me share your grief divine.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Let me to my latest breath,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">In my body bear the death</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Of that dying Son of yours.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Wounded with his every wound,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Steep my soul till it has swooned</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">In his very Blood away.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Be to me, O Virgin, nigh,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Lest in flames I burn and die,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">In his awful judgment day.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Christ, when you shall call me hence,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Be your Mother my defense,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Be your cross my victory.</span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #363936; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.3px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">While my body here decays,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">May my soul your goodness praise,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Safe in heaven eternally.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 0.3px;">Amen.(Alleluia).</span></div><p></p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-35426926887502310842021-09-13T23:27:00.005+08:002021-09-13T23:49:24.263+08:00You Are My Inheritance, O Lord<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: arial;">People kill
over land. It’s crazy when you think about it, but the plots we watch on
television series are reflections of what happens in real life. And here’s a tale of a plot related to
selling land without the permission or knowledge of other legal heirs.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: arial;">My intention in writing this is to… (<i>thinks thinks thinks</i>) ... vent! Haha! No (well yeah, to be honest, partly).
I try to write on topics that I hope others will learn from or maybe find a
solution to their own predicaments. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: arial;">And my
predicament is this… my conscience will not let me rest and I’m not even the
one in the wrong. To live in a stress-free world is an ideal, but realistically,
we have to learn to deal with stress and the people who cause them.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Last Friday's Responsorial Psalm:<br /><i>"You are my inheritance, O Lord."</i></b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Reading
and saying this out loud was such sweet consolation. Lord, nothing in this
world compares to you. Nothing. Not power, nor riches, nor beauty, nor earthly
possessions, compares to you. You are my
inheritance, O Lord. You are infinitely
more than whatever inheritance I may have on this earth. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As
I continue and try to put some light into this writing, let me say that if my
mom was alive, she would definitely not want me involved in this. That was her
personality. But whether I like it or not, I am involved. People who are close
to me are involved. And even if the result of all this is not in my favor, I
want to at least give those who did an injustice my two-cents worth.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_g4892iC-q1TVSfCBdYjST9fZO1Ri5MhNUdYL8UEPWdQ2V701n88KdRZCJQxcdzom4HOameTZjQPVfQtY88ellApmexccu9lvEuie6Zs51iZ6iv48aIWmB5nve0onXA2PGJv4fzfhgM/s2048/federico-respini-sYffw0LNr7s-unsplash.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_g4892iC-q1TVSfCBdYjST9fZO1Ri5MhNUdYL8UEPWdQ2V701n88KdRZCJQxcdzom4HOameTZjQPVfQtY88ellApmexccu9lvEuie6Zs51iZ6iv48aIWmB5nve0onXA2PGJv4fzfhgM/s320/federico-respini-sYffw0LNr7s-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not the land in question. <br />Credit: <a href="http://unsplash.com">unsplash.com</a></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><span><br /></span></span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span>I
am not confrontational by nature. But there have been times in the past when I
have needed to confront friends and family because if I didn’t I would not be
able to sleep soundly. I had to let them know what was on my mind and in my
heart. I had to find my peace.<br /></span><br /><span>So the plot,
este, backstory is that said people sold land belonging to a late relative who
had no living spouse and no legal children. In law (and I’ve tried to do my
research), the legal heirs are the living siblings (and I’ve read too any
nephews or nieces).</span><span> </span><span>But the land was
sold with just one sibling signing the documents and the land being divided by
said sibling, and some other nephews. But the other living siblings were not
even told of the sale and only found out by “accident”.<br /></span><br /><span>I’m
guessing that their reasoning behind the partition of the sales is that they
were the ones tilling the land. But nowhere do I read this in any of the law
websites I have come across. But the fact that it was kept from the other
siblings and relatives is to me the injustice. Any way you look at
it, it isn’t right. Not by the given laws of the land nor in the eyes of the Creator of the land.</span><br /></span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In order to
find peace, sometimes you have to go to war. We cannot talk with each other
with this issue at the back of our minds. Calm minds must prevail. And keeping in mind the lessons from Bo Sanchez, specifically the one on helping others change (<a href="https://www.facebook.com/BrotherBoSanchez/videos/151001647201855/">https://www.facebook.com/BrotherBoSanchez/videos/151001647201855/</a>), hopefully I will find the courage to confront not with hateful words, but with an open and understanding heart. And with God's grace, when the dust of this conflict has settled, we will all become better persons and develop a more sincere relationship, one that is built on trust and a bind that is thicker than blood.</span></p>
</div>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-72017789801236030352021-09-08T23:26:00.006+08:002021-09-09T09:45:52.862+08:00Holding Mama Mary's Hands<div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Don't be afraid... Mama Mary will accompany you...hold your rosary... <br /><span style="font-size: medium;">it is Mama Mary's hand</span></span></i></div><div><span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #e4e6eb; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div>These are the words Fr. Rex sent me in response to my message to him on FB messenger requesting prayers the night before I was to be admitted to the hospital. It brought me to tears. Even in my short message Father could feel my fear. But Father's response was a source of inspiration and the rosary that I took with me to the hospital, a source of comfort and strength.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlp9N9UtZxVXDUDyCg99AFy10q3ApRUuG-ckhg_5ztoE7YwWRZPakBUdFSPFqfDiOV0UWxcesIm4JShCUORVb7JS3aH_cejzX0VozzcnrJ_HM7cQUBfIKguh13fuvpu9V3nYR3FoQ6rIU/s960/241380224_377147777198907_5077299763942951635_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlp9N9UtZxVXDUDyCg99AFy10q3ApRUuG-ckhg_5ztoE7YwWRZPakBUdFSPFqfDiOV0UWxcesIm4JShCUORVb7JS3aH_cejzX0VozzcnrJ_HM7cQUBfIKguh13fuvpu9V3nYR3FoQ6rIU/s320/241380224_377147777198907_5077299763942951635_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">My rosary, my lifeline with Mary, along with the book by Amy Carmichael: "Rose from Brier"</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>As it has been our family's daily routine, Jojo and I prayed the rosary while we were in the hospital. Since my operation was scheduled at 7am, he went with me when they wheeled me out of the wardroom and while waiting outside the operating room, we found time to pray the rosary. We finished the rosary and were praying the prayers after the rosary when the staff approached and said it was time. Jojo kissed my forehead before they wheeled me into the operating room.</div><div><br /></div><div>If only I could have taken that rosary with me to the operating room, I would have. But I had nothing and under the sheets wore nothing, as if coming into the world for the first time. Bare and humbled, frightened yet submitting myself totally to the hands of the doctors and the hands of the One who created me.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgjCsc6E-Avu3U5Kx4VILU7IaTSm1UYGF2QXIPzctWWgA4Pu58UDIXTPnHx8qgJkYqT3_Y1daTDt5TKkBMT7TuvhAXjPmOgCShKWwWEutaRWkHj2Ha3n3Y_TkK7SCZUIE47jrZ8XWBfw/s1080/183849124_1104771099934067_2188294209707230865_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1077" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgjCsc6E-Avu3U5Kx4VILU7IaTSm1UYGF2QXIPzctWWgA4Pu58UDIXTPnHx8qgJkYqT3_Y1daTDt5TKkBMT7TuvhAXjPmOgCShKWwWEutaRWkHj2Ha3n3Y_TkK7SCZUIE47jrZ8XWBfw/s320/183849124_1104771099934067_2188294209707230865_n.jpg" width="319" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo credit: Our Lady of Lourdes Philippines FB page<br /><a href="https://www.facebook.com/LourdesPhl/">https://www.facebook.com/LourdesPhl/</a></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Before and after my surgery, whenever I could, I held the brown, wooden rosary. I looked at it wrapped around my wrist and my fingers and remembered Fr. Rex's words and I closed my eyes. Thank you, dear Mary, our mother, for being present in the most trying times of our lives, when we need you most, for continuing to pray for us especially during the times when we found it difficult to pray. Thank you Mama Mary for your love, for leading us closer to your Son. Thank you for the gift of the rosary, and in the midst of our darkest times, for holding our hands. Happy birthday, mahal na Ina! Mother Mary, the daybreak of our salvation, pray for us.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>"If Jesus is the light, then Mary is the daybreak.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>If Jesus is the Saviour, then Mary is the dawn that brings Salvation.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The birth of Mary is the daybreak. <br />With the birth of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we see the light conquering the darkness. <br />With the birth of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we see salvation at hand."<br /></i><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">- Fr. Reginald Malicdem, The Manila Cathedral -<br />(September 8, 2021, 7:30am mass)</span></div>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-50904306836725029702021-09-06T23:07:00.007+08:002021-09-08T22:29:22.057+08:00"Mag-Doctor Ka Na Lang"<p>I was in awe of the doctors, medical staff, and my whole hospital experience that when we came home, I talked to my eldest who is currently in Grade 12 ABM (Accountancy, Business and Management) strand, and said: "Mag-doctor ka na lang".</p><p>Ospital ng Maynila and most likely other government hospitals are training grounds for medical students. Before my surgery, I was interviewed by several resident doctors. Some of them, I also interviewed. You could really see their enthusiasm in their chosen field, though some were obviously new and were hesitant to ask the necessary questions and even do some of the basic procedures. Remembering them and their masked faces, I can't help but feel hope for this next generation of doctors. At the same time, I feel a sense of anxiety knowing what our world is going through at this time. But hope outways anxiety.</p><p>So what did my son say when I presented him with that plea for him to enter the noble world of physicians? He looked at me blankly and if I remember correctly, said "hala!". Which basically translates to: "Mom, are you crazy?" Haha!</p><p>But here is the irony of it all. In his last year of Junior high or was it in grade 9, my son wanted to become a doctor. I dissuaded him knowing how costly pre-med and med proper is. So he took up the next thing he was interested in, ABM, hoping to get into Accountancy in college.</p><p>Like my previous blog and the message of hope in finding treatment for one's ailment, it likewise applies to one's education. I regret not having my child pursue the medical field because I thought of the cost first. On my last night at the hospital, another patient was admitted accompanied by her daughter, the patient in her 80s while her daughter nearing her 60s. The companion told us her daughter had her residency at the hospital and got a scholarship at PLM (Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Maynila) for her proper med studies. There are ways, not only for medical students but for students of other courses. The take on all this: pursue your dreams, the means will be provided. Do not lose hope.</p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-19447018263620169612021-09-04T23:21:00.009+08:002021-09-10T22:37:49.849+08:00Medical Treatment - Affordable and Possible<p>What do St. Luke's, Cardinal Santos, Sta. Teresita and Ospital ng Maynila have in common? Maybe if I didn't mention the last one, you would think that it was the name of Saints or Godly men and women (as Cardinal Santos is not a Saint, but the first Filipino Cardinal.) Yes, they are all the names of hospitals or medical centers here in Metro Manila. But, for this blog's sake, they are also the name of the hospitals that I have been to or confined at. St. Luke's is where I gave birth to Benjo, Cardinal Santos is where I gave birth to Joselyn, Sta. Teresita is where Joselyn was confined when she got dengue when she was 6 years old, and the most recent, Ospital ng Maynila was where I had my mastectomy exactly one month ago to this day.</p><p>(I have written two unpublished posts on this topic, but I just can't seem to finish them or put a complete blog together. So this is my third attempt, in the hope that it will be good enough for me to click on the "Publish" button.)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzCj0k6yNIHbpAF71MWunPN4DCj0uEyY3fsGpT4nF1kPjzHo3ZhNVVieTmdOLdLgEIzQprW5P-Hx2SI_5HYoA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe> </div><span style="font-size: xx-small;">This is the room besides ER where we were "quarantined" until we got the result of the lab tests. Spacious and air-conditioned. We were the first to be admitted, later 2 other patients joined us in the room and before we left another patient was just admitted. We got to talk to the other patients and their companions. Jojo got to bond with the two male patients and even got to see them in the surgical wards. Unfortunately, we can't find them on FB and didn't get to exchange phone numbers.</span></div><p>If there is anything that I want to convey through my recent hospital experience, it is this - there is <span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>hope</i></span>. Medical help and financial assistance are available. This pandemic has dulled our senses and many who were healthy are suddenly becoming ill. And not just from Covid, but from other ailments. And it's frightening especially for the majority of Filipinos who are uninsured or do not have the finances for medical coverage. There are two ailments, the physical and the financial. Unfortunately because of the latter, the sick choose not to get treatment. This was my thinking and the reason why I procrastinated getting the lump that I felt in my breast checked. I thought of the cost of surgery or any future treatments. But when a dose of cold water was poured over my head after reading the results of my ultrasound, I knew I had to get treatment. </p><p>My cousin's wife told me of her neighbor who had surgery and future treatments at PGH. There is a waiting time to get an online appointment, but if you are able to wait, you can register and get an appointment with PGH at: <a href="https://pghopd.up.edu.ph/">https://pghopd.up.edu.ph/</a> At the time, I was given an appointment more than a month later. With my condition I couldn't wait that long, so I tried to find other options. </p><p>Another cousin asked for the help of a friend who is a nurse at a public hospital and she was able to refer me to an oncologist/surgeon, who she said was onenof the best for cases such as mine. Fortunately, this doctor has affiliations with Ospital ng Maynila and after finding the result of the biopsy (the lump was diagnosed as "proliferative lesions" and was recommended for incision biopsy) and discussing my options, I agreed on a mastectomy and was scheduled for admission.</p><p>The reasons why I began this blog with the names of the previous hospitals that I have had experiences with is for comparison. The previous hospitals were private hospitals; the two well-known as many affluent people choose these hospitals. Sta. Teresita is more of a community general hospital for a lower budget, but still a private hospital. Ospital ng Maynila is a public, government hospital for many who cannot afford private hospitals. When I was told before being admitted that we will not be charged anything by the hospital, I was skeptical. Paano? But after our 5-day stay (the first two days for lab tests and waiting for the results especially the swab tests), we left the hospital without paying a single centavo. Totoo pala. (We did have to pay a professional fee though since our doctor was from a private clinic, but the other patients especially the Manila residents did not pay, not even the pf).</p><p>There is hope. And it's not just this hospital, but other government hospitals in different cities and provinces. It is paid for by a joint effort of both the LGUs (Local Government Units) and PhilHealth. </p><p>Another positive note is if you do have to pay when hospitalized at a public hospital, there are government institutions and elected officials that you can approach. Even before my operation, a friend who works with a senator said that you can ask for financial assistance from their office, given the required documents. A patient that I talked to outside the doctor's clinic said that after her mastectomy years ago, she lined up outside PCSO and other offices of politicians for help in paying her bills. When health is an issue, pride should take second place. Diskarte, that's what we Filipinos are known for, and in this case, it is what is called for.</p><p>The other point of comparison that I wanted to write about was the treatment of the doctors and staff. I expected that the treatment in the public hospital will be, shall I say, less compassionate. But I have to say that the staff at Ospital ng Maynila were the kindest and compassionate that I have encountered in any of the other hospitals that I have been to. Sure, they were stressed, especially in the ER area, where we were first admitted and had our labs tests. But the doctors and other staff were very professional all throughout our stay (well, except for an asst. nurse that we encountered on our last day, but I'll choose not to focus on her because she was the exemption.) Except for the wardroom which was not air-conditioned, where up to 4 patients stay with a shared bathroom for two adjacent rooms, you would think you were in a private hospital. And the operating room, for the short time I was able to observe the surroundings before I became unconscious from the effects of the anesthesia, was very modern with state-of-the-art equipment.</p><p>It may not be the same for all LGUs or hospitals, but this is my experience which I wish to share. Times are hard, especially during this pandemic. But there is hope and there are ways. Health must be our priority. Eat a balanced diet, exercise, keep a positive outlook, and pray. Listen to your body. If need be, get yourself checked by a physician. <b><i>Don't let fear stop you from the possibility of being healed.</i></b><br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBHTJarrdUDmdnEc04s8n_m9lJnZu0_QgX8iMMSBhHw6q1JTHZhMW22WkUBvo_mACESVl2AtKucd1SObYn58tucTEnZ6dho4MXJTIsUdl1LS5U1Pnu2-wlc1McQkB6M6D0MEFJnISHtcs/s858/239010921_1255327568246385_1526046005551619265_n+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="858" data-original-width="542" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBHTJarrdUDmdnEc04s8n_m9lJnZu0_QgX8iMMSBhHw6q1JTHZhMW22WkUBvo_mACESVl2AtKucd1SObYn58tucTEnZ6dho4MXJTIsUdl1LS5U1Pnu2-wlc1McQkB6M6D0MEFJnISHtcs/s320/239010921_1255327568246385_1526046005551619265_n+%25281%2529.jpg" width="202" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A post-operation selfie. There are a few of Mom's clothes that I decided to keep. This blue top is one of them. Somehow, even if she wasn't with me physically, I felt that she was covering me and my wound, hugging me, comforting me, telling me that she was there with me.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>A special thank you to my relatives who helped in paying the professional fees for my surgery. Thank you especially to my family, relatives, and friends who included me in their prayers and offered masses for my intentions. May God bless you all abundantly. By God's grace and our faith, may we all be healed.</div><div><br /></div>Tips for admission into public hospitals (may not apply to all. Hospitals may have different rules):<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span> What to bring:</span></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Food and drinks. Though meals will be served to the patients, no meals are served for companions.</li><li>Water heater for hot drinks </li><li>Electric fan. No air-conditioning in the wards</li><li>Extension cord - some outlets may not be in a convenient place</li><li>Blanket or jacket (there's air-conditioning in the waiting/quarantine room)</li><li>Pillows (yes, walang provided na pillows. Mabuti may bedsheet)</li><li>Banig or anything that the companion can sleep on</li><li>PhilHealth card and another ID containing the exact name of the one registered in PhilHealth</li></ul></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div></blockquote></div>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-77115906369247616332021-08-24T20:30:00.000+08:002021-08-24T20:30:07.965+08:00Unconsciousness<p>11 hours of unconsciousness. How does that feel? Well, no dreams, as far as I can remember. 2 nights previously in the hospital, I only got a few hours of sleep. Anxiety, maybe. The noise around me, probably. The nurses and doctors coming to take my vitals, give me medication or change the IV line where the first didn't enter the vein, definitely.</p><p>When I woke up, my first thought was, the surgery didn't push through. Mmm, I wonder, was there something in my tests that prevented them from going through the surgery. Did my BP go up? I took a peek at my chest. I couldn't feel anything, but I did see a bandage. Then confusion. It must have pushed through. What time is it? Without my eyeglasses, I could not see anything. A blurry figure a few feet from my bed, I could make out. But she looked like she was just as sleepy as me. So I slept some more but later woke up with the nurse beside me checking the IV line and saying that it needed to be changed... again. After two painful, failed attempts, she decided to call a colleague. Thankfully, the colleague, a nurse, doctor, not quite sure, was able to get the needle inside a vein successfully. Then after a few minutes, they wheeled me back to the room where Jojo was waiting. It was around 6pm. I had left the room at approximately 6am that same morning. 12 hours, about an hour of waiting, and 11 hours in a place where my mind and body rested.</p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-11508278867068172172021-08-02T22:45:00.003+08:002021-08-02T22:45:31.336+08:00Odèdè<p>It has been one of my frustrations, a source of great insecurity. The hardly-there front which made me look boyish. Padded bras filling the empty spaces.</p><p>But then came time to breastfeed. Not an easy feat. Frustrations there too, seeing the more blessed mothers pumping and filling her bottles, while mine was barely half-full.</p><p>Nonetheless, I was contented when I got used to feed my children from the milk that nature giveth, lovingly made from these small mounds that the infants suck on and find comfort and satisfaction.</p><p>So thank you breast. Thank you for feeding our children. Thank you for the milk, which made me feel its worth. Knowing not where it comes from; nature's miraculous wonders.</p><p>But through the years you have inside you cells that are unhealthy. A tumor that has grown and must be taken out. In a couple of days I will bid you goodbye. Many regrets, but it has to be done.</p><p>My friend says that you are just 5% of me. But you have been a good 5%. Tissues, muscles, fats, veins that create you will soon be gone. But also along with the disease. All of it, I pray.</p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-33458149513627046322021-07-16T23:10:00.001+08:002021-07-17T08:03:24.101+08:00Our Lady Of Mt. Carmel<p>There was a time that I seriously contemplated on entering into religious life. It was at this chapel north of Seattle, in Shoreline, that I found myself drawn to. The chapel I later learned is named St. Joseph, but I knew it as the home of the Carmelite nuns. Was it curiosity that kept leading me there, wondering at what the nuns did inside their cloistered shelter? Or was it the peace I felt every time I entered and prayed in that quiet church where only a few entered? Or maybe both.</p><p>I was introduced to the place when my friends took me there and we offered eggs in the hope of good weather during a certain event. The structure that accepted the eggs, along with our prayers written on paper, was turned to the other side where the nuns would receive our donations. Our prayers must have been answered as I remember we kept coming back for similar petitions on several occasions.</p><p>There was also one time when I felt at my lowest that I went there on my own, prayed and cried, and after a while, left with a lighter load and a more hopeful outlook.</p><p>Today I look back to those experiences as we celebrate the Feast of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel, the Carmelite nuns' namesake. During this time when I'm distressed and plagued with this disease, I seek my refuge in our mother's embrace, lifting up my prayers to her and being consoled by her presence. Oh dear Lady of Mount Carmel, pray for us.</p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-8657966810512790702021-07-13T17:38:00.003+08:002021-07-13T17:38:56.707+08:00Putting Missing Pieces Together<p>If today was my last day...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi35qbOOK2EsFXhFBfBhqG_yYmV9XNcAZEO1I9SZ-BINcQ7lKr22hqgc237Pp16mUgy2CFF_iqvRAw3hQLaHqOU46GKPlEXj2YCeiCP9-kUbE04MouI_xMJG0qPZ_Zpzp4TfHkOl_Hhntc/s960/207453469_998344110934385_8270511701551974784_n.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi35qbOOK2EsFXhFBfBhqG_yYmV9XNcAZEO1I9SZ-BINcQ7lKr22hqgc237Pp16mUgy2CFF_iqvRAw3hQLaHqOU46GKPlEXj2YCeiCP9-kUbE04MouI_xMJG0qPZ_Zpzp4TfHkOl_Hhntc/s320/207453469_998344110934385_8270511701551974784_n.jpg" /></a></div>then why am I just wasting time trying to put a lego set together? There is so much more to do, so much. Too much, that it may not even matter. But for some reason, during this hour, I found it mattered to put this lego set together. At least the parts that weren't missing. My teenage daughter may not find joy in playing with it anymore. I may not even find the most important part of the set - Barbie herself. My girl told me it's with the other figures. Okay, good luck self. But the missing pieces that I did find, I found some satisfaction in putting them together. Ahhh Lego, or in this case, Mega Bloks, what magic is found in these little pieces. It was made to teach young children dexterity and imagination, I realize. But for the grown adult, it also teaches us that same thing... dexterity, imagination, and exercise. Some of those pieces aren't as easy to take off as they seem. And when it came crashing down, oh, I found myself getting down on my knees trying to look for the pieces underneath the table. But looking at the (almost) finished miniature world of this small set makes me happy. Unrealistic it may seem, but those beautiful, vibrant colors... well, it made me smile. So even if no one will remember or care, for part of this day, I put some pieces of a Mega Bloks set together - my minute share to rid the world of missing pieces.<p></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMUsP74hwHhjpm8isVCxrwVA3v-h4b9eDpHfg1zV7ynw1BeGsMoDQ2_-Va112SwGJ3JVr6CQb9XYkqW72anfEep7mDhIcnMQKn9HOPDZHkiDK4LnQR3yW4D9FOKfPte5HbdKb-JHe-Wi0/s960/209955174_413113233271630_3428558831867513952_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMUsP74hwHhjpm8isVCxrwVA3v-h4b9eDpHfg1zV7ynw1BeGsMoDQ2_-Va112SwGJ3JVr6CQb9XYkqW72anfEep7mDhIcnMQKn9HOPDZHkiDK4LnQR3yW4D9FOKfPte5HbdKb-JHe-Wi0/s320/209955174_413113233271630_3428558831867513952_n.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I hope to find the remaining pieces, so I can sell this online and make another girl happy :) <br /><p><br /></p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-8402697972120839522021-05-02T11:30:00.009+08:002022-05-02T22:49:38.648+08:00Jojo LVI<p>I remember when one of your balikbayan cousins talked about the time when you were being set-up with a Filipina so that your papers would be legalized. The question came up why you didn't push through with the arranged marriage, and you simply and sincerely answered while motioning to me, "eh, hindi na naging kami" Your cousin replied with a smile and a "naks". Syempre nangiti din ako. Idealistic, romantic, naive, or even "tanga". Call us what you want, but that's the path we chose. Sabi ng uncle mo nung una ko siyang nakilala na "daig mo pa ang tumama sa lotto" Bola haha! But in retrospect, I realize that they may have thought that my papers were fine, just as my own relatives thought the same about yours. Not knowing that we were in the same boat, the one named MV T-n-t.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLzArDrTNm49ua81iY-WTRrDL-_7Os-5HK86oppDpNitC7QYuuI7V0vcrNF45eEkA073t4ciMTUqfc3Xy-FYDWK1JhGx6HSJnV7ir7YItTD1cklBp73HKvMrxfNc22Y-hdkleRlXLGI9fGCrRJ6gxWlFOdwdFHXcH-LLV0AzMFuINvnC4Io0BAVHTj/s1440/20220502_215227.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1080" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLzArDrTNm49ua81iY-WTRrDL-_7Os-5HK86oppDpNitC7QYuuI7V0vcrNF45eEkA073t4ciMTUqfc3Xy-FYDWK1JhGx6HSJnV7ir7YItTD1cklBp73HKvMrxfNc22Y-hdkleRlXLGI9fGCrRJ6gxWlFOdwdFHXcH-LLV0AzMFuINvnC4Io0BAVHTj/w150-h200/20220502_215227.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><p>So idealistic and (okay, don't barf) in love, we planned on setting things right the only way we knew how and that was to leave the country where we met. The country where I spent 13 years, the country where you spent 7 years, the country that could provide us a better future, the country of milk, honey, Strom's shrimps, the best hot pho on cold days, large-servings of dishes, at marami pang iba. That was over 19 years ago. Masaya, malungkot, but we were determined, knowing that we got each other.</p><p>Regrets? Yep. We will not lie. There have been many, especially when the fairy-tale clouds of our idealism faded and reality set in. And at this point in our lives, reality very much has set in - we're no longer young, the kids are more independent, when we sit or lie down for a long period of time, it becomes more difficult to get up and you use your favorite massager more often to relieve those aching muscles. </p><p>But when it comes to our choices, there is no regret in choosing you. Kahit madalas kang masungit lately haha (sabi ni Doc baka dahil sa andropausal stage) pero bumabawi ka naman lagi in your own ways. Ang aga mong matulog, ang aga din gumising. Mamamalengke at maghahanda ng almusal. At kahit gutom na, hihintayin pa kaming gumising para sabay-sabay kumain. Yan ang ating morning routine. And it's something that many times the kids and I take for granted.<br /><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge1C-P2qgLqIK2CkAW1wS5rn4c8Y1lyFuZLV6JjtJpWpfM_SVREBaj11_yPAgShCkI2ZLkPzGKc6WZ-e_idyfT8jVle49Jt8TeH6ByJ4NpI0mFrxxmvyoMJ2PNFWK0KfZDYNF-0t8rm7z1BrtEVbN9xlaZHgDiB_nsWFyIXtEzdDAyhmc_9vMq-p-c/s768/1012795_10151656462688048_529294498_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="768" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge1C-P2qgLqIK2CkAW1wS5rn4c8Y1lyFuZLV6JjtJpWpfM_SVREBaj11_yPAgShCkI2ZLkPzGKc6WZ-e_idyfT8jVle49Jt8TeH6ByJ4NpI0mFrxxmvyoMJ2PNFWK0KfZDYNF-0t8rm7z1BrtEVbN9xlaZHgDiB_nsWFyIXtEzdDAyhmc_9vMq-p-c/w200-h150/1012795_10151656462688048_529294498_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Thank you for helping me take care of my parents when they were still with us. When dad had difficulty walking and was wheelchair-bound, you took care of him especially during the days when I had to work. And when we were newlyweds and his health was failing, ikaw ang nag-alaga sa kanya na parang tunay na anak. Salamat sa pag-aalaga at pag-iintindi mo kay mom, especially during her last days with us. Ikaw ang hinahanap niya, kasi alam niya hindi ko siya kayang buhatin. At patuloy mo pa rin siyang binibigyan ng halaga sa pag-alalay ng bulaklak, kandila at lalo na ang mga dasal.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9UUIrB7713hXyU_tf5YRAjXb-tDbYWRZ-8pK5QiDc0MhPoJa7AQYimeQ9-Y7dtZO6HeATI4ovJNL55M5lvyhfMNFgLL-dG1o3eZuUwQxuswqJE3j3T2uqmbVMPRKIqR2AkWFMhid6AM/s2048/20210502_102955.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9UUIrB7713hXyU_tf5YRAjXb-tDbYWRZ-8pK5QiDc0MhPoJa7AQYimeQ9-Y7dtZO6HeATI4ovJNL55M5lvyhfMNFgLL-dG1o3eZuUwQxuswqJE3j3T2uqmbVMPRKIqR2AkWFMhid6AM/w150-h200/20210502_102955.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><p></p><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"></blockquote>Kaya, Daddy, salamat sa pag-aalaga mo sa amin. The way you care for us in your simple and unique ways, thank you. We really appreciate everything you do even though we don't say it or show it often. Happy, happy birthday! We pray that you may take better care of yourself so that by God's grace, we may spend more years together.<br /><p><br /></p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-37360793120110960812021-04-20T22:40:00.001+08:002021-04-20T22:40:06.664+08:00Define "Locked-Down"<p>Social distancing, masks, face shields, and alcohol/hand sanitizer. This has become our new normal. A must before leaving the house, we must make sure that our masks are worn, face shields ready, and alcohol spray container filled. We are at war with an unseen enemy. And even the best soldiers have fallen.</p><p>With the many that have become infected, it is more likely that we have known family, friends, relatives, or neighbors who have become part of the DOH (Department of Health) statistics of new active cases. The majority of these cases have fortunately been added to the column labeled "Recovered", which is right next to the unfortunate column of "Died".</p><p>As of this writing, our street is on the list of those that are "locked down". The quotes have dual purposes, because I myself do not understand this concept. This virus is literally too close to home. The house on our right is an old apartment and one of the family members in one unit was tested positive, along with his wife. This apartment shares an "eskinita" or small alley as their entrance. If strict protocol were to be followed, the whole apartment should have been quarantined from day 1. But no, the brother-in-law of the person who tested positive went on his daily route of taking out his tricycle, unbeknownst to his pasaheros. <i>Face-palm.</i> Logic naman dapat kasi, pero ewan ko, kahit itong barangay 'di alam ang dapat gawin. So a few days after, we noticed that the said tricycle driver was not doing his rounds and he was tested positive. Paano na ang contact tracing? </p><p>If that's not enough, the 2nd house on our left, another compound where relatives and their families live, are also under quarantine after one member tested positive. The police set up their tent on the house next to us, sometimes manned by 1 to 4 police officers and 2 tanods. Locked-down in my definition would mean that no one should be coming out of the house, with only necessities being delivered. But the several times that I have gone out, the officers are too busy to even notice what's going on in their surroundings. Busy with what? Sa ka-chat, ka-update sa fb o sa paglaro ng ML? Haist! Kahit sa pagsaway sa mga kumakain sa tindahan sa harap o sa bahay na nagtitinda ng almusal na kung saan locked-down, 'di niyo magawa. May mga lumalabas pa rin sa bahay na binabantayan niyo, pero 'di niyo na napapansin yan, busy kasi.</p><p>Jojo asked one of the tanods how long they will be stationed there. He told him that they would be extended since another of the residents tested positive. <i>Sigh</i>. It is one of the elderly residents. While the younger ones who may have had mild or no symptoms complete their quarantines, it is the elderly and sickly who will be badly hit. I've said it before on a different topic, but I say it again here, inefficiency kills. While other countries are recovering, getting their citizens vaccinated, continue to test, contact trace, and quarantine, we here are still waiting, trying to defend ourselves from this unseen enemy. For how long, we do not know. For some, it will be too late.</p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-47279270010987878912021-04-02T17:06:00.003+08:002021-04-02T17:06:43.917+08:00Cravings on Good Friday - I got this<p>A word of advice: do not watch cooking shows on Good Friday. When I'm trying the best to be faithful in your fasting (only 1 full meal a day, no snacks, 2 smaller meals), my son decides to turn the channel to a cooking show. Tacos made from potatoes, followed by a cake demo. If you heard a grumble, yes that would be my stomach.</p><p>Tempting yes, but it's almost 5pm and drinking water or on this hot day placing an ice cube in your mouth, does not satisfy the stomach, but somehow distracts one's mind.</p><p>There were so many inspiring and relatable sharings and reflections during the "7 Last Words" on IBC channel this afternoon. I'll look for a link to poat it here. It's those words that are filling and sustains me during days like these.</p><p>"Tetelestai" - from the Hebrew "The Sacrifice is accomplished" or "It is finished."</p><p>"It is paid" Our debt has been paid by the blood of the Lamb of God. Thank you is not enough. And it's this thought that allows me to still watch this cooking show, now showing how to cook ube/buko pies, and not be tempted to dig something out of the kitchen. A blessed, Good Friday indeed.</p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-11768049853217800562021-04-01T14:13:00.000+08:002021-04-01T14:13:10.400+08:00Virtual Bisita Iglesia - Churches Dear To My HeartHoly Thursday is a day when we would wake up early to do our Bisita Iglesia. For the past years, we have been going to nearby churches, 7 in total, praying 2 stations in the Stations of the Cross in each church, ending at Sto. Domingo where we would have our confession. But with the current pandemic and the more recent lockdown/quarantine, with the churches being closed, I have decided to go on a virtual Bisita Iglesia. One that I would not be able to do in reality because these churches span oceans and mountains. Churches of my youth, churches of my younger years, churches that I have grown up with, churches that I have called home.<div><br /></div><div>I begin at St. Jude in Canberra, Australia, where I had my Sunday religion classes, my first confession, and my first communion. I have to delve for my photo in front of the church in my first communion dress. For now, I've crossed the seas and vertically traveled to the capital city of Australia where I spent 8 years of my youth. (Thank you Googe Maps for the photos below)<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEienRP_p4m55wGTbz27wscm2ug5R6ZlOA8M3t6ZKW1PSiiNUxfO_7lk6RSuNRQWcyWDDl0uR4OLEvMX0dkBvh5DeMZqGFDhTd-ledYpp_y-fLurZyRSzcWgyisbB3tyckl6GLBq_TP84hE/s976/bisitaIglesia-StJude.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="603" data-original-width="976" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEienRP_p4m55wGTbz27wscm2ug5R6ZlOA8M3t6ZKW1PSiiNUxfO_7lk6RSuNRQWcyWDDl0uR4OLEvMX0dkBvh5DeMZqGFDhTd-ledYpp_y-fLurZyRSzcWgyisbB3tyckl6GLBq_TP84hE/s320/bisitaIglesia-StJude.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next is St. Benedict in Wallingford, Seattle, USA. This wasn't the nearest church from our house, but upon an invitation from a friend (I can't remember who first introduced me to St. Benedict's), and upon hearing the vibrant and charismatic homilies of then parish priest, the late Fr. Paul Waldie, it became my parish. It was during the '90s, around the same time that I became an active member of Singles for Christ, and before leaving Seattle, that this church and parish helped in forming me spiritually.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Dbu6K1wr68IQxgZd8zbq3Fy4gzOQa_SDeG9pC54t45gCwgY3_fbMd_TeqBpA1tViM3bJASMk6-B9itxXeIb62ZhW6yxdMiVSuXbG-VbSguV3aNs40jf2CA4Y-CnIxwA1D86pLvvoZx4/s869/bisitaIglesia-StBenedict.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="869" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Dbu6K1wr68IQxgZd8zbq3Fy4gzOQa_SDeG9pC54t45gCwgY3_fbMd_TeqBpA1tViM3bJASMk6-B9itxXeIb62ZhW6yxdMiVSuXbG-VbSguV3aNs40jf2CA4Y-CnIxwA1D86pLvvoZx4/s320/bisitaIglesia-StBenedict.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Another church where I have many fond memories of is St. James Cathedral, Seattle, USA. Though the cathedral is beautiful with the main altar situated in its circular design, it is the side chapel that I remember most. I was fortunate to have worked about a block from the cathedral. During my lunch break, I would attend the midday mass in the chapel, along with about less than 15 other church-goers, some, like myself, employees from the nearby hospitals and offices. It was here that I was filled with my daily dose of Jesus in order to go about the rest of my day.</div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR4WRg7_n0X4LZBP39581OSmMoa4CQrE1jLT2azGhaBDoii-xhX_p_kegriBn8o6LCt0iAWCkSXoaM8l7qG7e61CjLeh3dJfL4Y_rgSD38hj6wwIGmb5r4sgCHLcwi7kvzt1U7RWpXiFs/s433/bisitaIglesia-StJamesChapel.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="433" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR4WRg7_n0X4LZBP39581OSmMoa4CQrE1jLT2azGhaBDoii-xhX_p_kegriBn8o6LCt0iAWCkSXoaM8l7qG7e61CjLeh3dJfL4Y_rgSD38hj6wwIGmb5r4sgCHLcwi7kvzt1U7RWpXiFs/s320/bisitaIglesia-StJamesChapel.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo credit to:<br /><a href="https://www.stjames-cathedral.org/Tour/chapel.htm">https://www.stjames-cathedral.org/Tour/chapel.htm</a><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-8075709021264495032021-03-23T10:02:00.004+08:002021-03-25T10:56:17.762+08:00Random Thoughts <p>Random thoughts:</p><p><b>Lockdown Year 2, Day 1</b><br />(March 22, 2021)</p><p>9:55am Kailan ko kaya makikita ang ilalim ng laundry basket?</p><p>Breathe in, breathe out. Air is free. But then again, so is the virus. So let me rephrase that: Breathe in, breathe out, at a safe distance and preferably outdoors.</p><p>Complaining? There are people who are fighting for every breath.</p><p><br /></p><p><b>Lockdown Year 2, Day 2</b><br />(March 23, 2021)</p><p>I'm better when I'm dancing. One of the songs used as a Zumba/dance exercise in my current Exercise Playlist. But how true is that. I am truly better when I'm dancing. To be able to take those steps, follow the choreography for the most part. Sure my body isn't as graceful as those dancers I try to follow, but in my mind's eye, I get pretty close. Just don't put a mirror in front of me and that's when the fantasy stops and I see my stiffness haha! But still, it's my outlet, a good outlet as I allow my muscles to stretch, listening to the beat, even sing to the songs.</p><p>"Let go, let God. He is there. He is here. Allow Him to be with you, to lift you up, to embrace you."</p><p>Lockdown Year 2, Day 3</p><p>Virus. It's real. It's near. Neighbor has been infected, family is under quarantine. Actually the whole compound should be quarantined (3 door apartment on the side nearest to us, where they share an eskinita). But uhm, bayaw na tricycle driver is still doing his rounds haist.</p><p>------</p><p>Mass gathering does not equate to gathering at Mass. Diocese of Manila has got it right. No closing of church doors, let's just implement the 10% capacity. Especially next week, the most holy week, the week that defines our Faith.</p><p>Lockdown Year 2, Day 4</p><p>Let's start our day right... good and blessed morning to all!</p><p>Letting go of those 'things' that we have accumulated and have no more use for. Haven't used those shoes in years and most likely will not he used in the near future. Hopefully they find another owner who will take care of them and bring them some joy.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-34085542142666930282021-03-09T23:17:00.006+08:002021-03-09T23:17:51.813+08:00Emotional Rollercoaster<p>Ang baba talaga ng EQ ko. I wonder, may paraan ba para isukat ang EQ katulad ng pagsukat ng IQ? Mmm...</p><p>Pero kung ano man, this I have discovered especially these past months or so, that my EQ level is low. Firstly, when the end (or at least the the run on regular tv) of "Ika-Anim na Utos" paved way for the return of "Magkaagaw", I couldn't watch even previews of it. In the words of my kids, it was literally 'cringy'. Sure, we watched some episodes of it before the pandemic, I felt it was bearable then, but now I instantly turn off the TV. </p><p>On a similar note, when Alyana was starting to entertain her old flame in "Probinsyano", I could not bear to see where they were taking the story. I have had such a repulsion for these "third-party" twists. So much so that I just do not want to watch any part of it, not even when they show the previews during commercials, or even listen to Jojo talk about it (he's the only who watches "Probinsyano" in the house). Oh, a note to the writers of Probinsyano - shame on you! I don't know if it's because of the rating, but the show has been running for what 5 years now and I'm sure the loyal viewers do not appreciate their beloved character's reputation to be tainted. Ugh, papatayin nyo naman pala ang character niya, bakit kailangan pang dungisan.</p><p>I wrote part of the above paragraph a couple of weeks back, but only got to incorporate it in this blog. Why bring it up now? 'Cause I had one dang rollercoaster ride of emotions this evening on several videos I watched. Curiosity first because of Oprah's interview with Harry and Meghan. I haven't watched the whole interview because I can't find a link, so I had to content myself to watching snippets of the whole. That in itself was a rollercoaster of emotions. Then I come upon reactions on the interview, specifically Piers Morgan's and I was just so angry, wondering if we watched the same interview and how he can come up with such a lopsided view. Ugh, that man! Then even angrier that some would actually side with him. Oh I feel for you Britain. It's similar to what's happening with Trump supporters. Misplaced and blind loyalty. Then I come across Piers Morgans walkout and I just had a good laugh.</p><p>Oh, I've been reading some fiction stories online and this I confess and is another example of how low my EQ is. I have to read the end to make sure that it ends "happily" before continuing. Cause some of these writers can be so cruel. Sure I realize that realistically, not all stories end in happily-ever-after, but, I can't bear it when they kill off the characters. And sakit pre. So yeah I read for the feel-good, okay lang konting angst basta in the end, happy lang.</p><p>Now, I wonder how they will end "Probinsyano"?</p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-1883148041427684702021-03-01T22:07:00.003+08:002021-03-01T22:15:42.463+08:00Benjo at 18Sa totoo lang, I regretted having the anesthesiologist give me too much pain reliever because I felt numb and too groggy kaya pagdating nang oras na kailangan ko ng umire, hindi ko magawa at sobrang antok na ako. I pushed but I couldn't feel a thing. I think that's why the doctor had to use forceps to pull him out. I dozed off near the end of my delivery, so no memories of that first sight of my new-born or his first cries after labor. I only remember waking up in a corridor, then pushed to our reserved room when I regained consciousness, where Jojo and mom were waiting.<div><br /></div><div>Ang masayang kuwento nanggaling kay Jojo at mom. They saw and held Benjo before I did. Lumabas daw si Doctora na karga si Benjo at lumapit kina mom at Jojo. Kukunin na raw ni Jojo ang anak, nang may biglang may nag-intercept haha! (All those years of watching NBA finally paid off.) Naunahan siya at si mom ang unang nakakarga sa unang apo. I smile imagining that scene.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6w9ES2uuv7VDsiLKiEgXUFXjdtbzVd8BnN3LgJ9872FoLLV8CK51h-gMXJaxeiSP6PLEEbEaR5xUgPdIZ7yypqm3IGPQdNcdxU2lIwEq0SmVDUM7p2XnDGZ6uANUwizJSUv7Bg5_KzFQ/s2048/154669306_482370502936596_2227654487687413858_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1533" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6w9ES2uuv7VDsiLKiEgXUFXjdtbzVd8BnN3LgJ9872FoLLV8CK51h-gMXJaxeiSP6PLEEbEaR5xUgPdIZ7yypqm3IGPQdNcdxU2lIwEq0SmVDUM7p2XnDGZ6uANUwizJSUv7Bg5_KzFQ/s320/154669306_482370502936596_2227654487687413858_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Another anecdote which I like to tell friends is of when I was still pregnant and Jojo's Uncle, Kaka Carding, said that he hoped that our baby would be born on the same day as his birthday. I asked him when his birthday was. He answered: "February 29". Ohhhkay... um, Kaka it's 2003, not a leap year. But you know, if it was a leap year, they would have shared the same birth date. So yeah in a way, Kaka's words came true.</div><div><br /></div><div>At 18, my boy is far from little, though he still likes to sit on my lap (which only lasts a few seconds because my smaller frame can no longer take on his weight). He's been watching anime and some Youtubers who are independent at the age of 18. He told me several months ago how some kids are forced to live on their own at the age of 18, and when his birthday was fast approaching I asked him if his bags were packed. He'd whine "mommy..." Yesterday, I kidded him that tonight would be "eviction night". Haha! I like to mess with him because he's such a good sport, but he knows how much I would dread that day.</div><div><br /></div><div>Benjo and I went to church early this morning. We had planned to attend the 6am mass, but we woke up a little late and attended the 7:30am mass instead. He served for the first time in over a year. Sure there's some anxiety during this pandemic of him serving, but he knows to follow protocols. So armed with mask, face shield, alcohol, and lots and lots of prayer, we remain confident in His almighty protection.</div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis9nRV1Ltg8bOLHpdwoQnMJYD77JgrzbMqd-zlTq4st8X_6CG2tn7ywgzI1QRadSZJkblWkUwkt9g8AZvUJ9N2OOrPeNCFXLyrRRoIR9JSdAltnt-TtSMVpfOTUDw9RaHJpLI_Ge-kgpQ/s1255/benjo.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="689" data-original-width="1255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis9nRV1Ltg8bOLHpdwoQnMJYD77JgrzbMqd-zlTq4st8X_6CG2tn7ywgzI1QRadSZJkblWkUwkt9g8AZvUJ9N2OOrPeNCFXLyrRRoIR9JSdAltnt-TtSMVpfOTUDw9RaHJpLI_Ge-kgpQ/s320/benjo.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Screen capture from the FB page of <br />the National Shrine of Our Lady of Lourdes</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And that's my continued prayer for you, anak. Not only during this time, but throughout your life. During the times you struggle in your studies, may you not only rely on your own wisdom but on the One who is the source of Wisdom. During the times when you feel frustrated, breathe, take a break if need be, be patient and think before you act. Ask for strength and guidance from God in all your decisions. And know that we are always here for you. Happy birthday Kuya! We love you. </div>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-71349755096081376912021-03-01T14:02:00.006+08:002021-09-19T12:12:13.709+08:00Those Good Ol' Times<div>Nanay Vicky and I talked yesterday via Magicjack. Nanay Vicky is my maternal aunt, who lived with us when we moved to Australia. She sacrificed her time with her own children who were in their teens at the time, to help take care of my brother and me. She spent nine years with us, bringing me and my brother to Australia when mom and dad had moved ahead of us to secure a place for us to live. We were separated for six months and I remember my mom reminiscing of that first meeting at the airport when Ray did not want to approach her. At 4 years old, six months was a long time and for a toddler, there must've been some awkwardness and shyness in approaching someone who he had thought left you for some unknown reason. I believe this is why when mom was assigned again to the US this time when I was 19 and Ray was 17, she did not want to leave us behind.</div><div><br /></div><div>The talks I have with Nanay are filled with stories of our past experiences, especially in Australia. "Ang saya nga naman natin noon..." she said remembering the weekend parties we had when both young and old alike enjoyed the camaraderie; the adults playing Blackjack, pekwa, while us kids played our own games until late at night or even until dawn. And it wasn't just the games, but the food, the stories, and the familiarity of that "extended family". This last one was particularly important being in a country where we were the small minority.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then there are the stories of her growing up years way before I was born. These are the ones I find interesting, telling of an era of her past, of mom's past, and the past of their family. Mom was never one to talk much about the past. They grew up poor. As it has been told to me, Lolo and his family were quite well off owning some land, but Lolo was a kind-hearted man and he signed as the guarantor of his friends' and family's loans. Thus when his friends/family failed to pay their debts, he had to sell off his land. Tough times for a farmer raising several young children. <br /><br /></div><div>She remembers too of the times when I was still single and very fond of children, especially my nieces and nephew, Nanay's grandchildren, who would fly to Seattle for vacation. Oh, how I spoiled those kids. They had wanted to see snow, but unfortunately during the month they came to visit, usually December, we didn't have any snow. So one day, I took the day off and we went to Snoqualmie Pass. We had a grand time, though I know the kids felt really cold and I tried to help them keep warm, and every once in a while, we'd go indoors so they wouldn't get sick. I had an old Mazda then which survived the long trip to the mountains. BUT, on the following day, when I was driving home from work, the car broke down on the interstate highway. Yikes! I was thankful though that it did not happen the day before when we were traveling from Snoqualmie.</div><div><br /></div><div>Nanay and I could talk for hours, I can feel that she also enjoys our chats. She misses her daily chats with mom as much as I do. It's a reminder to me that I should call her and my other aunt, Ninang Cristy, more often.</div>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-75972297473293160362021-02-24T16:49:00.000+08:002021-02-24T16:49:46.741+08:00Purwisyo!<p>(Bihira ako mag-rant, but allow me this. Kailangan lang ilabas.)</p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">To our neighbor/store owner,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">We understand your need to have a business, hanap-buhay ika-nga. Many have said that your shakes are good. Prices seem reasonable too. "Kuya, anong order mo?" I hear you asking your customer as they wait in front of your store. The lower part of your house, well what used to be the garage part anyway, converted to a store that is meant for take-out orders. "Ate, take out ba ang sa 'iyo?" Teka, kapitbahay/tindera, may pang dine-in ka ba at ganyan ang mga tanong mo sa iyong mga customers? And this is our biggest complaint. Wala kang pang dine-in, saan ngayon kumakain ang customers mo? Eh, di sa kalye, at madalas sa harap ng bahay namin. Nakasandal sa nakaparadang sasakyan namin, naka-upo sa sidewalk, at dati, lalo na nung hindi pa sinasabihan ng asawa ko, ginawa pang lamesa ang hood ng sasakyan. Wow, ang laki ng dining area mo Ate!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Katapat namin ang bahay/tindahan na 'yan. Purwisyo talaga. Nagpa-park sa side namin ang ibang customers dahil walang parking sa side nila. Minsan nakaharang mismo sa pintuan ng bahay at kapag pakiusapan mo na umalis, abay sila pa itong galit. Yung konting space na puwede sanang parkingan at kainan ng customers nya sa tabi ng sinasabing tindahan, mataas ang sidewalk at nilagyan pa ng mga halaman. Oh, 'di ba. Ayaw bigyan ng space ang customers sa side nila.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Masungit, madamot, suplado. Madalas ganito siguro ang reaction ng tinderang/kapit-bahay at mga customers nito sa amin. Pero mga Ate at Kuya, matagal na kaming nagtitimpi. Basura pati ng customers mo sa garden at sa harap namin napapadpad. At yung lalaki na akala namin kung anong ginagawa sa gilid ng sasakyan at biglang tumahol ang aso, abay, ang kapal ng mukha, umiihi pala. Ginawang banyo pa. Pagsabihan mo, nakangiti pa rin, nagtatawanan ang magbabarkada. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Mapapamura ka talaga.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Nahihiya na raw ang tindera. Haha, saan parte ka nahihiya. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">To our barangay officials,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I appreciate that our area is open to businesses such as these. But please remember that ours is a residential area. Especially during this pandemic, we have protocols to follow. These people, who come from different places come to this store, take off their masks, spend several minutes eating and disposing of their waste on the streets. Ate Tindera cannot monitor all her customers, we understand, but that's the point. She should not be allowing those people to eat around our vicinity. "Take out only" should still be enforced, especially for stores like this, that DOES NOT HAVE A DINE-IN AREA.</span></p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-48361111564348179782021-02-22T22:50:00.004+08:002021-02-23T16:57:12.141+08:00Voter Registration During the New Normal<p>Where did the time go? Our first-born will soon be 18 and he's so excited about all the "adult" privileges that go with being that age. Not only can he legally go out of the house in GCQ areas during this pandemic, but he can now register to vote. And we did just that a couple of weeks ago in preparation for the elections next year. The process was actually easier and faster than we had expected. Here are the steps and some tips for those who are planning to register. Parents, if your child will be turning 18 by next year (by May 21, 2022 to be exact), please have them register. Yes, their vote definitely counts.</p><p></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>Firstly, go to the Comelec website to fill up the necessary forms at: <a href="http://irehistro.comelec.com.ph">http://irehistro.comelec.com.ph</a> This site is not only for new voters, but for those who have transferred, changed their names or reinstatements. Just click on the appropriate options on the first page. <br /><br /></li><li>Fill in all the necessary information online. Review before clicking on Submit.<br /><br /></li><li>At the end, you will be provided with a pdf file to download. This file has seven (7) pages. The first six is actually 3 copies of the 1st two pages and the last has the QR codes. Have the 1st 6 pages printed back-to-back, so you end up with a total of 4 pages. All the needed information that you filled up online will be printed on the hard-copy. You don't need to fill in any of the other sections until you get to the Comelec office.<br /><br /></li><li>Find out where your District's Comelec office is. Good thing we did this because all the while we thought it was in the City Hall complex. But apparently they moved. For those in the NCR, click <a href="https://comelec.gov.ph/?r=ContactInformation/FieldOffices/NCROffices" target="_blank">here</a> to find your city/district's Comelec location.<br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEO6_np-PTSdF4Ya4T0wl5saBsUgtOrGCBkB1AZO7fPe36Cu7z7al-3fiOIyAy1yO_BNWrScNl2jB4XtXORXZlhp-9GDhrhvxselg_IUMLME4Uq9brWt5PkTlbTGMoYDght5ZtdwAgvQY/s2048/152741108_874119810036779_2578202292209674125_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1533" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEO6_np-PTSdF4Ya4T0wl5saBsUgtOrGCBkB1AZO7fPe36Cu7z7al-3fiOIyAy1yO_BNWrScNl2jB4XtXORXZlhp-9GDhrhvxselg_IUMLME4Uq9brWt5PkTlbTGMoYDght5ZtdwAgvQY/s320/152741108_874119810036779_2578202292209674125_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Comelec building for Quezon City<br />Bautista Building, Misamis St., Barangay Bago Bantay</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></li><li>What to bring when you get to the Comelec office:<br /> - ballpen<br /> - any of the valid IDs listed <a href="https://comelec.gov.ph/?r=VoterRegistration/WhatisVoterRegistration/RegistrationRequirements" target="_blank">here</a> under "Documentary Requirements"<br /> - a photocopy of the above ID (there was a photocopy machine at the ground floor of the office, but there was a line and unfortunately at the time we were there, the machine was not working. Good thing I had a photocopy of the birth certificate I brought as a backup ID, which the officers-in-charge accepted)<br /><br /></li><li>Remember protocols are in place. Always wear a mask and face shield. You will also be asked to fill-up a contact tracing form. Temperatures will be checked before entering the building.<br /><br /></li><li>Know your district, as different offices are assigned different districts. A list of barangays are posted near the windows of the specified office. Once at the office, in front of a Comelec staff, you will be asked to sign several parts of the forms you brought.<br /><br /></li><li>Once your IDs have been verified, your biometrics will then be taken. A plastic shield is placed between the Comelec employees and the applicants. A staff will take your photo and guide you to where to place your thumb marks, where to write your precinct number and place your electronic signature. The forms are stapled by the applicants and the bottom portion of one page is cut as a reminder to the applicant of their precinct number. The staff are there to guide the applicants but do not touch the application paper. At the end of the process, you are just asked to leave your application in a tray.</li></ol><div>We were done in less than 20 minutes. We were there before 8am so we were the first in our district. But being a weekday, there were no lines. As a suggestion to those planning to register, please do not wait 'til the last days of voter registration. Now is a good time to avoid those crowds. Get out, be a responsible citizen and have your vote count.</div><p></p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-65411247270774722182021-02-21T22:15:00.007+08:002021-02-22T16:16:40.057+08:00On Real Love Stories<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I shared this short clip that I took while watching the Metro Channel last night to two of my group chats on FB. My friend on one gc responded with a heart react, while another friend on the other gc, responded with "cno ito?" Haha! </span> <span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Not your typical, famous, celebrity couple. It was part of the interview portion of Ernie Lopez with his fiance, Michelle Arville. It was my 2nd time to watch it and I was touched the first time and wanted to capture some of it on video. I specifically shared the part where Michelle was retelling the time when she had suffered a stroke and Ernie said that even if her face was lopsided or even if she was an invalid, he would still love her. And that was her definition of love.</span></p></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyviUc_RBmpS00hqEt0U-SOCNAKokXM5UIO9q1vAB6w3R9g2zsqwaTl1oSWnhepmBaiTY11-AfFasi2WpO3Kg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><p><br /></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I also watched a couple of videos on Facebook on Will and Jada Smith on the Red Table Talk page. One was a Father's day special and another on Valentine's. </span></p></blockquote><p> <a href="https://fb.watch/3OdMWAs_bZ/" target="_blank">https://fb.watch/3OdMWAs_bZ/</a></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Oh, the heart strings that these two couples pulled, along with their stories of raising their kids. And I thought I was done crying today from writing my previous blog.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">These are such feel-good love stories. But stories that are not just romantic, but realistic and down-to-earth. Theirs is not made of fairy-tale beginnings as these couples were their "second chances". Ernie and Michelle had their previous marriages annulled. Jada and Will likewise had previous marriages. I'm sure their relationships are not perfect and it's something that they admit to, but that's the thing, no marriage or relationship is and no one person is. It's a matter of seeing through those imperfections and finding the reasons why you fell in love with that person in the first place.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I write this on the love month, but every month should be filled with love. No flowers this year for me, I specifically asked Jojo to not buy flowers. He has been very consistent with giving flowers every Valentine's, anniversaries and birthdays over the years. I do appreciate them and the effort he puts in looking for the best deals :) But after a few days when they dry up, we realize we could've put that money to buy food instead. Another part of that Ernie/Michelle interview that I can relate to - when Michelle said that she would prefer bacon over flowers any day. Ditto.</span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">So love is more than the kilig. Yes, I guess I've moved on from my fixation on MaiChard. (But there's still a part of me that hopes.) If there's one thing though that I've learned from that part of my fangirling was to separate real from reel and to not place your happiness in other people's hands or love lives. I wish and pray for a long and happy relationship for the two couples I mentioned above. The parts of their lives they are willing to share gives us inspiration for our own lives and relationships. And for that I'm grateful for. May your heart be happy and well. </span></p></blockquote>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8817946850265042112.post-71338506580705933242021-02-21T11:49:00.008+08:002021-02-22T22:58:56.052+08:00Feet of the One Who Loves Us<p>It's a lazy Sunday morning. After going to mass at 7:30am at Sto. Domingo, we headed to Jollibee for breakfast and then visited mom at the cemetery. I just got done with giving Benjo a pedicure. He has suffered pain from his in-grown toenails, stubbing it accidentally on furniture. It was not an easy task with him wincing, but I tried to be gentle, applying cuticle remover to soften the nail and nipping it slowly. Hopefully, I cut most of the culprit toenail parts.</p><p>When mom arrived from the US back in May of 2019, one of the first things I did was to give her a pedicure. Her nails were long and like Benjo's, had parts that were in-grown. On her previous visits, it was one of the first things I did upon her arrival. When she was well enough, we used to go to the nearby salon for her manicure and pedicure. Her feet bore much pain, having a big bunion probably from years of wearing the wrong footwear. The least I could do was to try to relieve some of her pain. I noticed that mom's feet and lower legs were very dry and she complained of itchiness even after I applied lotion. Later, I realized it was a symptom of her illness.</p><p>There is an image of Jesus lying in a tomb called "sepulcro". Before the pandemic, when it was still safe to touch images, we would touch the feet of Jesus, which was the only exposed part of his image, and say a prayer. The first time we did this after mom's death was in Quiapo, and when I saw Jesus' feet, the memories of mom came flooding in my mind and I tried to control the tears. I haven't written about the day that my mother passed away. It's still very tough and even now as I type on this keyboard, my vision is blurred as the emotions come to the surface. </p><p>It was Mother's day, May 12. We had just finished saying the rosary, it was mid-afternoon, a little past 12 noon. Mom was breathing heavily during the majority of time we were praying the rosary, but she calmed down near the end part of the rosary and I helped her lie down so she could rest. I napped too while Ninang, Jojo, and the kids ate lunch. I sat at the end of the couch where mom laid, placing her feet on my lap. I was sound asleep when, I'm not sure how long I had slept, probably less than 30 minutes, Jojo woke me up and pointed to mom's stomach. With my semi conscious state, I just said, "oo malaki" ("yes, it's big") because her stomach was about double the normal size, as a side-effect of her liver disease. But Jojo wasn't pointing to her stomach because of that fact, but because mom had stopped breathing. <br />(Please say a prayer for my mom, Remedios.)</p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;">Feet that walked; feet that stood.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Feet that labored, feet that toiled.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Feet that suffered.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Feet that was nailed to the cross.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Feet that was laid to rest.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Feet of the one who loved us.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Feet of the One who saved us.</div><p></p>Eileenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02772548970797716416noreply@blogger.com0