If Ever I Die Along the Way

Tonight I am leaving with my father to spend the season with our relatives in Isabela. It always takes us more or less twelve hours to travel from Bataan to Isabela, and thus my father prefers that we go on a night trip. However, travelling that long especially thru the rugged terrain of the Cordillera mountains of the province of Nueva Viscaya is certainly dangerous, actually any kind of journey via national hi-ways is dangerous. In fact, I have encountered an accident when I was little in the said route.

Last September, I acquired an Organ Donor Card from the National Kidney Transplant Institute (NKTI). The card is part of NKTI’s HOPE or Human Organ Preservation Effort program that aims to “advocate organ and tissue donation and to source out transplantable organs from deceased organ donors.” Organ donors are not just the victims of accidents, there are instances when a person’s body still lives though the brain has already given up and so he becomes the perfect candidate for organ donation. This card guarantees that if ever I die, my organs will not be wasted and rot with the rest of my body.

At first I found it a little bit repulsive. Just thinking of people hauling my lifeless body from a supposed vehicular accident, and immediately transferring me from the site to the nearest hospital, not to revive me, but to the take advantage of the still fresh and still “consumable” internal organs that haven’t been destroyed by the accident.

I gave it a thought and with the help of a little explanation that my death will not be put to waste and will mean a lifelong health for someone else strucked me. It is a little bit eerie but death is an inevitable phenomenon so why not endure with the optimism that at the end of the day someone else’s life is lengtened. So I agreed and took the card. I went home and jot down the needed data at the back; it says;

In the hope that I may help others, I wish to donate after my death; 

followed by a list of five organs and a word “others’ with the corresoponding boxes where I have to put a mark. I checked all the boxes. Then I proceed to the next statement with a box saying;

Any needed parts to be used for transplantation, research and education.

i didn’t find the last three words, “research and education”, inviting so I put a slash mark over them and wrote the word “only” after the word “transplantation” so it looks like this

Any needed parts to be used for transplantation, only

research and education.

Obtain your own HOPE card now at the National Kidney Institute, who knows, LIFE might be your next perfect Christmas gift to someone.

I CAAAANT! (sobs)

I don’t look forward for Christmas anymore. I mean, I don’t enjoy it now as much as I did when I was little. I am going to Isabela for my Christmas break. I feel bad since Bian and Erika are planning to go to Bian’s resort on December 27 and stay there until 30, I think.

They are my closest friends in college and i hate it that I cannot even go with them. Erika asked me Last Wednesday (When this photo was taken) to spend the night with them in Bian’s house since she thought that she would be OP because Bian’s boyfriend was going to sleep there as well. I would have agreed but they were planning to go to a bar en route the house and I have only 600 Pesos in my pocket.

Anyway, MerryChristmas everyone.

Death by a Unanimous Decision

Hanzel and I entered the Neonatal (Newborn) Intensive Care Unit (NICU) at 3:45 in the morning to replace Loren and Rose. Our clinical Instructor ordered us to clean the place and check for the newborns’ vital signs.

Hanzel was having a lot of trouble taking the Respiratory and Heart Rate of a premature baby so he asked me to check them instead. Unfortunately, the baby was born an hour ago. Though premature, it was laid in an ordinary bassinet. There wasn’t an available incubator so it was left there with only an oxygen hood and a lamp to keep it alive. It was really tiny. The fingers were indeed small that one couldn’t help but think of jellies. They are dry, yet looked slimy plus the color was somewhat transparent. The hand was folded in a different way and was so soft that I thought that it didn’t have bones in it, cartilage maybe. Its head is lined with blood vessels and its chest… really tiny with the little ribs showing. There was no sign of breathing, so I put my hands on it and felt the chest moved up and down. The Respiratory Rate was sixty something. I took my stethoscope to listen for the heartbeat but I heard nothing. Breathing always comes with the heartbeat so I was sure that its heart still beats, I therefore asked my CI to take it instead. She too couldn’t hear it. I left her and Hanzel there.

Minutes went and it’s time again for us to take the Vital signs. Hanzel was having a problem with that baby again so I went and see it. I couldn’t feel any breathing anymore. I checked for the heartbeat but there was none. The color was still okay. We referred this to our CI who also asked the Nurse. Both of talked a bit and asked us what we think. Hanzel thought it’s dead, and so was I. But nevertheless they still both checked. They couldn’t hear anything also. Then the Nurse on Duty asked us, “ano idedeclare ko na bang patay na?” (Should I declare it dead?) Nurses are not allowed to do such thing yet we all agreed. There was no pediatrician around. Doctors don’t come in the hospital this early; it is always the nurses who take all the responsibility it this kind of times.

Now thinking about it, I feel bad. Why didn’t we take the initiative to save it anyway? How could we forget about CPRs? I mean, CPR nor any kind of life-saving measures didn’t penetrate our minds. We were so preoccupied with thoughts like does-it-still-breathe-or-is-it-dead-already?-kinds of ideas. Somehow I feel so unethical. No, I don’t feel any guilt. I just don’t feel well about what happened.

Then our Clinical Instructor told us to change our scrub suits to our white uniforms and that we can go home.

While I was changing my clothes in front of the NICU door (we don’t change our clothes in the locker room) a doctor from the ER came in. I didn’t have to guess what happened because seconds later a woman came holding an empty box… and I just know what it was for.

An Anticipatory Grief

Mortality is a subdued thought that is always scratching from the back of our minds- Casey

I got bored of helping my classmate putting the diaper on the baby that she just had suctioned of its secretions and bathe, so I decided to stroll around the nursery living her behind panicking. The room is not that big. Earlier, I was able to mop the place in less than 4 minutes.

Just like an eager enthusiast scrutinizing each specimen of his collection, I pored around from one bassinet to next and from one incubator to another gazing at the babies sound asleep. I somehow felt envious, it was already 5 in the morning and I haven’t slept yet.

I passed by the incubator that was placed in the farthest corner of the room. The baby inside was born 2 months less to maturity; he was being sustained by a mistent for his oxygen. Babies who are born after a complete nine months of pregnancy usually sleep with their arms and legs curled and folded with their tiny fist closed into balls reminding us of boxers ready to punch anytime; however, this particular baby laid his arms and legs straight on his side with the fists hanging open- the very evidence of his prematurity. I noticed that the child’s skin has streaks of yellow on his head and chest which gradually changes to dark red at the arms and legs to dark violet on the soles and palms. I know perfectly well that this means that there is an impairment in the child’s tissue oxygenation. I looked closely at his chest and watch if it rises or fall. I tried to observe for movement but it was clear that he’s not breathing. I reported the matter to my Clinical Instructor who was now helping my classmate. She notified the nurse afterward who immediately came.

A Letter to Someone

Dear Miss Sakamoto,

More than a year ago, I assisted a delivery in this particular hospital where I am about to return for my internship tonight (10pm-6am shift). The birth opened my awareness to the great sacrifice that hails the coming of motherhood, especially having to witness the blood, screams and pain that came with it. I would be ashamed of my self if I, as a nurse in training, would fail to discern the miracle at work as the newborn came forth this world from the mother’s womb, through my own hands. You really have to be there to appreciate what was happening. The experience of assisting a delivery is beyond any textbooks or instructional videos could give.

Indeed, pregnancy and birth are grueling periods that most women choose to go through. My heart is filled with an overflowing admiration to those who choose to tread the path of this nine-month long torment; however I put an even higher esteem to you, my old friend. Certainly, getting pregnant five months before your graduation day and at the age of twenty is foolish, but deciding on keeping the baby and facing all the arduous consequences humbled us. And we are very proud of you.

Yes, I know that explaining things to your parents, and soon to the whole world, will prove not an easy task, therefore remember that even though a great storm may reduce a whole forest to a wasteland, beneath the ground lies the limitless opportunities for seeds that lay dormant to flourish and blossom; reminding us that no matter how ruthless the world may be, do not lose hope and find a way to be happy ( I am sure that your coming child will not fail to bring this happiness to you).

Our little talk last night proves that I need not to worry so much… and I believe that you are doing all right. Just always keep your optimism with you and take care of yourself. Be brave. I know you can do it.

Congratulations.