What am I REALLY afraid of?
Failure? Embarrassment? Loneliness? The future? COVID?
All of the above, as I’m sure other people can relate to.
But I just realized something now, at 1:15 am. I am also afraid of beginnings.
2021 Life Update #2
FYI for those who care, the first life update was the one with my brother in the previous post.
- I still have not been vaccinated. I am annoyed.
- I’ve dabbled in the esoteric this pandemic, but I have always been interested in it.
- Plans for life upgrades are taking shape. I just hope there are no postponements because I don’t think I can handle any more disappointments at this stage.
- I have become a Kpop hard stan and my bank account is suffering. I have reached my spending limit for nonessentials and have actually gone over my budget many pesos over because of Kpop. Do I regret it? Not really. I regret maybe ONE Kpop purchase, but otherwise, I feel like the purchases were perfect for my mental health. But yeah, no more purchases for the year.
- I shall resort to asking people for Kpop stuff as birthday gifts HAHAHAHAH.
- I’m thinking of blogging more regularly and getting a paid account here on WordPress.
I hope life (and your governments) have been treating you well, dear reader.
Surviving COVID
No, it wasn’t me who got it although after yesterday’s trip to the hospital, I might now be a carrier.
This is essentially the narrative of how my brother and our entire family survived this whole ordeal.
My brother contracted the virus a couple of weeks ago. He got fever, got a home rapid test done, and got a “faint” positive. I say “faint” because he said that the positive line for COVID was very faint. He felt confident he’d get better because his only symptom was mild fever. For a week he stayed home but with on and off again low fever. We thought nothing of it; we thought that with rest and meds, he’d pull through, but by Day 6, he was beginning to get worried when his fever spiked to above 38 degrees. By Day 7 he was asking me for help to look for hospitals with vacancies. That was alarming.
I hate phone calls, but I sucked it up because it was my brother’s life on the line here. I called up the hospitals near our place because that’s what I was asked. I called a sister hospital of the one near here in hopes that they’d have a bed. They didn’t. My brother was just put on the waiting list.
I asked friends for help. I asked them if the hospitals near them had any vacant beds. The hospitals there were also full. A friend referred me to the One Hospital Command Center, which was a government service to help people locate hospitals or the medical service they could avail near them. I downloaded the app (Pure Force), entered some private information (which, TBH, scared me at first), and tried to navigate the app. I ended up placing two requests: one with the presidential “line” and another with the general help center. I had cancelled the one that goes straight to the president but apparently it still got through. I explained my situation to both the presidential line and the general help center and around 15 minutes later I got a call from them. I explained my situation again, and they said they’d get back to me. They gave me a reference number so that if they’re not able to get back to me, I can follow up with reference number.
They didn’t get back to me.
About an hour or two later I tried the One Hospital Command FB page to follow up. I got another call and they asked me more info about my brother and when I told them he was all the way in the city and I was in the province, they said they’d just call him first to get the information and get back to me. The TL;DR version is that there still weren’t any hospitals with available beds. They directed me to hospitals that MIGHT have available beds but the hospitals I called either didn’t have any beds or weren’t picking up.
I was beginning to panic. My brother asked around for an oxygen tank because his O2 saturation had dropped,. I asked some friends also, but fortunately, my brother’s doctor friend pulled through and got him a tank. The oxygen tank got delivered that afternoon.
The next day, a friend got me the number of a doctor supposedly from the Rizal province. He advised me to ask if his hospital still had any vacant beds, so I did. The doctor called me instead and asked who gave me his number. I mentioned the name of my friend. Funny story. Turns out the doc didn’t know my friend haha. My friend had gotten it from another friend. Gah.
THANKFULLY, this wonderful doctor accepted my brother as a patient and scheduled a teleconsult with him after his rounds. By 430 pm, my brother had his teleconsult. I don’t know what they talked about except that the doctor ordered some tests for him, but I was able to rest more easily that night especially since my brother said that with the oxygen tank, he was able to bring his saturation up to a high level already.
The next day, when I asked my brother how he felt, he dropped a bombshell. He was already in the ER of the doctor’s hospital WHICH WAS NOT IN RIZAL (too far) but in Quezon City. He had contacted his teleconsult doctor (whom we shall call Doc from hereon) who advised him to go to his hospital’s ER. My brother was nearly turned away by the ER staff because there simply wasn’t room. My brother, always the smart guy, told them that he just needed oxygen, and that he didn’t need a bed. A while later, Doc had seen my brother already and tests were done. Doc called me up since my brother listed me as his caretaker and explained what would happen.
My brother had COVID. They didn’t even need the swab test to confirm it, but they did anyway since it was protocol. His x-ray showed that he had also already developed pneumonia, and this was the reason his fever wouldn’t go away. Doc said that he’d need to be admitted. There wasn’t any vacancy in the hospital, but he already has a bed in the ER and he can stay there until he got a room. Treatment would also already start in the ER.
(It is 1:30 am and I am about to fall asleep. I’m writing this now because I had just arrived home after picking my brother up from the hospital and dropping him off at an aunt’s empty house where he can remain in isolation for a few days as per doctor’s orders)
In the meantime, we sent my brother a few things for him like 2 sets of clothes and underwear, some snacks and bottled water to tide him over until his next meal. Thankfully, even though he was in the ER, he was also already being given meals. I had debated whether or not going to him and keeping him company and being his caretaker, but the risk of exposure to our parents who were both already senior citizens held me back. I hated leaving my brother alone (we all did), but we all kind of agreed to keep our parents safe, so I stayed home.
I coordinated with many people during my brother’s hospital stay. I talked to his housemate in the city to send over some things to my brother. I scheduled deliveries to my brother. I talked to his HMO agent, the PhilHealth agent at the hospital, hospital admitting staff, and Doc. Eventually, my brother got a room after spending a few days in the ER.
In the room, my brother complained that the softer bed made it difficult for him to recreate the position he took on the ER bed. He tried to be comfortable though, but it was difficult because he was on oxygen support. I could sense through his messages that he was becoming more despondent and scared and angry. I chose to focus on his anger. It was a sign that he was still willing and able to fight.
By day 5 he asked the doctors (he had a lot) if they could try stronger medicines for the pneumonia since his x-ray showed no improvement. In fact, it looked like the pneumonia had progressed. They team brought in a pulmonologist to check his xray and sign off on the stronger meds. Doc arrived, looked at the xray, said pneumonia had actually REGRESSED, told my brother to change lying positions, and eventually signed off on stronger meds.
Doc told me all these and said that by the weekend, if his labs and x-ray then show improvement, he can go home.
Fast forward to Sunday noon. I woke up late because I couldn’t sleep properly the night before. As with all my mornings for the week, I woke up asking my brother how he was, and he said surprise they might discharge him today. And then the whole house took on a flurry of panic and excitement. There was panic because we had not anticipated him coming home that day already. We thought the earliest was the next day, Monday, so we were going to clean the house and prepare and yada yada (I’m so sleepy now it’s a quarter to 2am).
My brother said that Doc advised him to isolate for a few more days. I was thinking why couldn’t he just stay in the hospital if he’s going to be isolated anyway but I squashed that thought because people needed the bed my brother was occupying. Thankfully, one of mama’s friends had an empty house nearby. They had moved but they kept the house for rentals, so it meant it was furnished. Nobody was renting it at the moment, so it was perfect. Cleaning was rushed, we separated the front seats from the rest of the car with plastic cover. Then I took the long journey to the city, but with no traffic because of quarantine, it just took a little over an hour.
I had to wait for my brother’s discharge for 5 hours because there was a problem with the billing, BUT ANYWAY MY BROTHER’S ON HIS WAY TO FULL RECOVERY AND WE ARE HOME.
THINGS I LEARNED AND AM GRATEFUL FOR:
- First and foremost, a gazillian thanks to Dr. A.I. for not turning my brother away when he got a strange text from an unknown woman. My family and I are eternally grateful for making sure my brother is doing well. I am grateful because he would give me updates from time to time when the other doctors didn’t (I didn’t have their numbers anyway so I couldn’t nag them). His patience and care for my brother are a few things I will always always carry in my heart with gratitude.
- On this note, if someone in your household starts exhibiting symptoms, SCHEDULE A TELECONSULT ALREADY. It might be what saves your life.
- I am grateful to St. Luke’s Medical Center ER for not turning my brother away. I am sad that hospitals both in the city and in our area (we live south of the city) are all full and hospitals have had to turn away patients. This is horrible. I’ve heard people dying just right outside the emergency room because they couldn’t be accommodated. I’ve seen photos of cars parked outside ERs with fluids and oxygen tanks outside the car while they wait to be admitted inside the ER.
- I am grateful to the Lalamove drivers who took the risk of delivering things to my brother in the hospital. It’s a hotspot for the virus, but they knew they were helping a COVID patient, so my thanks go out to them. As a small token, we gave them all extra money.
- This most recent surge is scary. A lot more people we know are getting sick. I’m scared that I might get sick since I was in the hospital even though i stayed in the car in the parking lot while waiting for my brother. I didn’t even get out of the car when it was time to pick him up. Please please please be safe, everyone.
It is now 2am. It is time to sleep. I’ll post more information in the morning.
License Renewal in the Philippines (probinsyana edition)
//edit Under ECQ and MECQ in the Philippines, government offices are closed. Check the official websites for your new schedule.
Okay. My licenses and passport expire in the same year, so I sat down one afternoon and set to work learning how to renew them in this quarantine world. This post will be about the things I learned and tips I’d like to share with everyone. This will not be a walkthrough. Please read the government guidelines on the respective sites on your own. I will not be an enabler for laziness. This will mainly be about my experience as a current resident of Region IV-A (hence the probinsyana tag in the title) but most of the information here will be applicable to Metro Manila residents also.
For this calendar year 2021, I have to renew 3 government documents: passport, professional license, driver’s license, so this post will be about those three. I’ve also decided to add some information about getting your NBI clearance.
Continue readingWhat would you do if you could know the future?
This was part of my “script” for class recently. We were discussing Ted Chiang’s “Story of Your Life” and the question of fate vs. free will.
I kind of just felt the need to share this.
(The numbers refer to page numbers in the handout I made for class. The handout contained a transcribed version of the story since photocopying the story for everyone would use more pages than I was allowed.)
Ted Chiang’s sci-fi novella “Story of Your Life” tackles an oft-discussed theme in literature and life: if fate/destiny exists, what does that mean for our free will?
Instead of a fantastical setting or an everyday character mulling over his choices in light of his destiny, we have our protagonist elevated in status and meeting aliens that prompt her to mull over this fate vs. free will conundrum. Dr. Louise Banks, a renowned linguist, is tasked to communicate with a pair of aliens—heptapods, they’re called, for their 7 legs—and determine why they have arrived on earth.
The story, through Louise, asks us a few questions when it comes to these two. “Was it actually possible to know the future?” (57) and “What would you do if you could know the future?” (movie) Fate implies the future, what happens to us.
Louise, upon the arrival of the heptapods, immediately is set to work trying to communicate with them. She determines that the fastest way to be able to communicate is through writing.
As she and other linguists studied the written language, or Heptapod B as she called it, she realized that the principle for their writing follows one of the variational principles of physics: Fermat’s principle, which explains light refraction. Her discussion with Gary leads her to realize that in order for light to be able to travel the fastest through any surface (as in through water, for example), the light ray would have to know exactly WHERE it is going to “land” BEFORE it can even start moving. It was the same way with Heptapod writing. The heptapods had to know the entire sentence before they even write it down. (53-54; 57)
On one hand we can do that also. We think of the sentence first in our heads and then we write it down, but the difference is that heptapods seem to be able to write as they think and know immediately where the sentence starts or ends and how the different strokes should be formed (because the strokes aren’t exclusive to one character; one stroke can be used for a number of semagrams in a sentence).
This opens up her mind to the heptapod way of thinking because language also affects the way we think. But it’s not just that she’s thinking in heptapod LANGUAGE. The heptapod way of thinking means that she’s also thinking teleologically, as in thinking about the purpose of her actions, which means she has to know the end goal of her action with certainty so that she could begin her action. Louise explains that heptapods “experienced all events at once, and perceived a purpose underlying them all. A minimizing, maximizing purpose.” (59)
It becomes clear at this point that heptapods are able to know the future, and their present actions (in the way we humans understand time) are done in order to reach that certain future.
The problem with this worldview is that we linear-thinking humans have problems accepting the fact that our future will not be all fun. Our future will also include difficult moments. Heptapods know and accept this. It is part and parcel of their lives already. We humans, though, want to make sure that all our “results” are positive.
This brings us to the question of fate and free will. If you could know the future, what would you do? Would you actively make it happen as the heptapods and Louise did in the story, or would you try to change it? What is the implication on free will? If you know already the future, why choose a differently? Louise says in page 65 that she and Burghart (another linguist who has also mastered Heptapod B and can also already see the future) seem to just be acting out a scene that they knew about ahead of everybody else. And as limited humans, we ask, “Why?” We don’t understand why they’re just playing something out that supposedly already Is. “Why do they act it out still? Why not change it?” And Louise throws the question back to us subtly, “But why change it?” Who’s to say that this path shown to us by the future isn’t the best path (Fermat’s principle)? Think of the Avengers: Endgame movie. Doctor Strange indicated that there was one timeline that would be good, but as the only one who saw that timeline, he knew he had to take steps to ensure that it would come true even though the steps would be painful. It’s kind of similar to Louise. Who are we to say that the death of her daughter, while definitely painful isn’t just part of a larger and better picture?
“Story of Your Life” asks us to examine the possibility of a reality where we know our purpose, our goal, our end—so to speak. As limited humans, we can only guess at our purpose in life, and a lot of us stumble through life not knowing what we were put here on earth for. When we make our decisions, we don’t know what the outcome will be, and it scares the living daylights out of us.
When we know our goal, does that not make our present more meaningful because we know where we will end up? And doesn’t that allow us to enjoy our present more? Louise says that there is an “urgency” to fulfill that future once you know it, and this urgency is what compels her to choose actions that would fulfill that future. As a result, she worries less about the future and spends more time in the present. She is made more aware of the present and is able to live each moment with a greater appreciation. Perhaps that is why she chooses to “make a baby” after Gary asks her.
Ultimately, knowing the future is currently an impossibility. There is no way for us to know the future with certainty, so we live as we do: we live one moment at a time, but with this text, we are reminded to not worry about the future too much lest it takes away from the present.
A thought, a mark on this world
You can tell a person is older than she looks by her eyes. The weight of the tears she’s cried in the droop of her lids, the times she’s laughed etched in the crinkles around her eyes.
Or maybe it’s just been a tiring night, hence the tired slant. Or she was caught in a blissful moment, hence the crinkles.
Maybe I’ve just been looking much too closely at the mirror nowadays, trying to track how my age is showing when many have said it does not. Maybe I’m afraid of time running out.
***
This book I’m reading now has me thinking so much about time and age and authenticity and impressions. Addie’s desire to LIVE became a curse. She could live days beyond her due, but she would not be remembered, not allowed to leave her mark on the world, not allowed to tell her story. It makes me think of Achilles, who chose to die young yet be remembered for eternity. It makes me think of me, who is a nobody in the greater scheme of things, but hopes she is a somebody to anybody, someone more than just a passing memory, more than words on a blog, more than a name in someone’s past.
But what is greater than that? What do I want more than that? For to Addie, just being remembered is EVERYTHING already. And I suppose I should be grateful; my days might be finite, but I can say my name out loud and leave these words here and be remembered and therefore not be so alone.
And yet why do I still feel so?
The book I’m currently reading is The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab
Back to reading
In this whole quarantine season, my sole saving grace is the written word. Law forbade me to leave the house except for essential errands, but books…
They allowed a way out.
Work has resumed. I’ve been working from home since the latter part of April, but I’m beginning to unravel at the seams. It is Sunday, 11pm, and I have just shut down my laptop. Work has taken over even my weekend nights. I used to keep at least one weekend free, but for some reason, there seem to be more work now. How did this happen?
The worst part is that I have lost my time to read. Every minute at “work” means a minute away from sustenance: food, rest, and books. I am dying.
Toxic positivity
Life is a pile of excrement. I’d like to think it’s a small pile in a field of flowers. There are more flowers than excrement.
The excrement makes for excellent fertilizer for the flowers right?
But sometimes as you’re wandering through the flowers, you step on a pile of excrement and the smell is too overwhelming that you can’t see the flowers for a while. All you can think of is getting rid of the dung on your shoes (I hope you were wearing some shoes). And you end up moving around, crushing flowers in the process, stomping and trying to scrape the foul-smelling thing under your feet (shoes).
Once you’re done, you look around and you realize you’ve crushed a lot of beautiful flowers in your wake. All because of a pile of excrement. And you feel HORRIBLE.
I’m here to tell you that this is how I feel. I don’t need people telling me “Oh that’s okay. The flowers will grow back anyway. Look at all the beautiful flowers that are still around.”
I want people to tell me:
I get you. Let’s do something about this so none of us step on dung anymore.
OR
Oh, dear, I’m sorry I left my dog’s dung there. I forgot to clean it up. I’m sorry it inconvenienced you. It won’t happen again.
(this post and extended metaphor made more sense in my head)
What to do
So… The electricity had been flickering on and off in Paseo since around 4pm when Jody and I arrived. It was alarming, but not scary. When we finally went to Amore La Cucina (near Payless at the back. GREAT PIZZA, guys) to celebrate a number of things, the lights went out for good. When we checked our messages, a number of our colleagues from villages in Cavite to Calamba to Sta. Rosa had reported that they lost their electricity already.
Everyone around me was still chill, but I was already beginning to panic internally. It was good that my friends were still relaxed; it kept ME calm… Or at least enough not to freak out. I just tried to remember how it was back in the 90s when blackouts were pretty much routine. We grew up entertaining ourselves with shadow puppets and stories and riddles and games, and it was honestly an amazing time to be a kid (maybe not as an adult haha).
The last few weeks have been full of uncertainty and fear, definitely, because Taal Volcano erupted and still hasn’t stopped emitting plumes of steam and ash. The memory of the ground tremors that night Taal erupted still unsettles me. It made me doubt how safe we are even if we were 30km away from the volcano.
At work today we all talked about what we’d do if we DID finally have classes on Monday. I honestly thought we weren’t ready to guarantee everyone’s safety, especially the young ones’. And now I realize we never really talked about what we’d do if we STILL didn’t have classes next week. What do we do?
Tonight’s blackout in some areas near Taal is making me worry. Is this a sign of more things to come? If they are, I hope it’s a harbinger of good rather than bad things.
New year chorva
[Chorva is a made up word that means something. I can’t explain right now.]
So it’s the new year and a new decade, and I’m still procrastinating and melodramaticizing everything. Might as well accept that’s who I am after 30 something years and just focus on just being a better person in other ways instead of fixing these.
The decade was crazy. Got sick at the start of the decade. Started a new-ish job in a new-ish place. Went on dates. Fell in love. Got my heart broken. Got disillusioned with work. Got disappointed in my country, friends, and colleagues. Travelled outside the country for the first time. Acted as a second mom to 11 teens for a month (it was both a crazy and a beautifully memorable experience). Tried new stuff. Failed at same stuff. Fought with a colleague in front of other colleagues (I don’t regret giving him a piece of my mind, but I regret the manner in which I did so). Taught computer classes even though I knew zilch. Had to learn computer stuff. Checked tons of papers. Learned how to drive. Learned how to drink beer. Gained weight. Finally started yoga, although very irregularly. Got into Kpop and Kdrama. Fantasized about living overseas. Fought with a cousin over politics. Got scared because we thought we’d lose papa.
All these are mild compared to what others may have gone through in their decade, but these experiences are mine, and well, that’s it. I just wanted to remember all these things that made me this jaded but still hopeful person I am today.
May this new year be full of clarity, action, and love. Happy new year, everyone!
3 dozen years
Once upon a time I told my college roommates that I didn’t want to have my debut (turning 18 in my country is a big thing; it’s called a debut /deh-boo/) because it meant turning one year closer to 20 which meant graduating and turning older.
I say that every year: I don’t want to get older. It takes me one year closer to the grave. It sounds like a very pessimistic point of view, and I don’t really know where I got that thought, but it’s there. Every single year I am greeted with birthday songs and I just stand (or sit) there smiling awkwardly and maybe clapping my hands along to the tune. Last year I actually shushed my students when they started singing.
I’d like to think that I’m beginning to change that point of view. I mean, I still do think birthdays take me an inch closer to my grave, but I’m going to try and see it not as a negative thing anymore. It’s taken me 36 years, but better late than never, right?
This year has been messy again. I’ve been doing gratitude posts more to try and remind me of the good in my life, and it’s been going swimmingly. There are still low points that I am ashamed of, but I’m taking those as learning experiences.
At the start of the year I decided that I’d be celebrating my birthday with a bang. I decided to travel. Except for last year’s work-related travel, I’ve never been outside the country. I wanted to change that. My friend and I have always wanted to travel to Europe–just the two of us–before we hit 35, but life and work and finances got in the way, so we didn’t. In January this year, we decided to finally go to Japan–a good compromise for us. It was perfect for me because anyone who’s known me knows that there are two places I’ve ALWAYS wanted to visit: Greece and Japan.
As a kid who grew up with anime, I became fascinated with Japan. When we finally got cable TV, I couldn’t get enough of that strange Filipino woman interviewing Japanese people on the street about what they were doing (Eleanor Nishiumi, I love you) on the WINS channel. In college, I used up all my free electives on the Japanese language courses. I joined a Japanese language speech contest sponsored by an org in UP TWICE! And I won the second time! I even took the basic Japanese proficiency test and PASSED! I was THAT crazy for Japan. Really. I’ve wanted to come visit since Sailormoon came to my life.
15 years after graduating from college, and I FINALLY made my dream a reality. My family has been very supportive, and I LOVE them. My boss was disapproving (because I’d be taking a week off work) but understood my need to go (well, I hope she did haha).
I’m typing this entry in our hotel room in Kyoto, and well, I feel like crying. 🙂
Thank you, God. Thank you, universe. Thank you, family. Thank you, boss. Thank you, friends. Thank you, Irish my friend who’s with me on this trip.
Firsts
I realized something today as I sat in my car at the gas station near my village waiting for my dad to come with jumper cables because my car wouldn’t start.
I sat there thinking of posting about this on my social media (after I had finished panicking) when I suddenly got to thinking: why would people care? What makes me even want to share my life with people I’m not particularly close to? And then I realized… I just wanted to document this FIRST in my life. It was my first time to have my car die on me. It was my first time to have a car emergency and have no one near to help. It was just the gas station attendant there, and he didn’t have tools to help. It was my first time to have my credit card rejected (not because I had no funds, just to be clear, but because they suddenly only accepted Visa and Mastercard CC and mine wasn’t even though I had used that card in that station before multiple times). It was the first time (in a long time) to be laughed at and not be annoyed at being laughed at. Kuya attendant was amused, I guess, mainly because I wasn’t mad at the whole situation. I was too busy being pathetic and a stereotypical woman who had to call her dad for help.
You never run out of FIRSTS no matter how old you get, and I guess that is another thing that keeps mankind going–that sense of wonder, awe, surprise, love, hate, fear, and grief. All these FIRST time experiences keep life interesting and meaningful.
hear me out 