death becomes her....

Death becomes her. A dark comedy fantasy movie. Drinking a magic potion with a promise of eternal youth. A triangle between an actress and the writer and plastic surgeon couple.

The hunger. An erotic horror film. Drinking the vampire's blood with a promise of eternal life. It is the story of a love triangle between a doctor and a vampire couple.

I watched both movies (again) yesterday, too lazy to get out of bed. I loved both movies. It's funny crazy promises of eternal life. I wish I had that potion for my mother.

Death in the family is inevitable, especially my Clinic-setting family. How many of them passed away? Four? Five? Ten? I cannot recall. The surest thing there is--- its greater than those I lost because of transplant. I hope none this coming year.

The saddest deaths I've encountered by far was with Mrs. King and Mrs. Queen. Both DNR patients. Mrs. King was easier, I noticed early in my shift one day that blood pressure was going low with skyrocketing pulse rate, I know that it was time for her to go. It was fast. I only made two or three ran checks on her and she was gone. Quietly.

With Mrs. Queen---it was crazy insane! I was notified by my CNA that she was not breathing anymore mid of my shift. So I rushed to her room, checked on her, even called my supervisor that day to rechecked. No, she is still battling it. So I kept checking on her in between my runs that day. At endorsement, I was still able to hand her to the oncoming nurse as she still had a pulse. When I went back to my shift the next morning, she was still there. While doing my ran that shift I was mumbling a prayer for God to get her and have her rest. Well, finally she was gone. But I was there staying until her body will be taken. Agony. Ahh Mrs. Queen why do you have to die at the end of my shift?????

In my Clinic now the worst news about death I had was with Monik. She was in too much pain while going through her treatments for several months. One day she was in the hospital, we heard the news that she died the day after she decided to submit herself to hospice. Sad. Remember Mrs. M? She passed away.

Oh and Ben's death. We have had this poor thing back door near the garbage bin where we often take our breather. He was in one corner head down, never minding anyone who passes by his corner. Weird. After the end of the day he died, just laid there breathless.

We're on our crazy ran again...a make-shift Monday on a Sunday, new year's eve. We're on schedule so far.
Happy New Year Philippines!

G.

Comments

behind that closed door....

When you have a competent desk Executive Assistant you’re sure to end up with a glory day! Liz is efficient. Ask her to do anything and she will do it in an instant, well, of course sometimes she forgets especially when her laughing buddy is beside her! She works quietly. You won’t even notice her leave the building unless she says her goodbyes! Ahh like her FA! LOL! Sneaky. She is behind this closed door. This door used to be wide open years ago, and it just changed recently, for some stupid reason. Anyhow, open or closed door you can still hear her giggling or I can still disturb her with just a press of “transfer 10” in the phone in from my Station. She is the “MAN” (as Paul often says) when it comes to translating for my Hispanic patients. I always ridicule her for getting a more paying job as translator, @#$% some people who knew how to use the language line are just too lazy they would always call her to translate. Geez. I am one of them. As she passed by my Stat...

Sunday's child...

I may not have a fair face, but I am a Sunday child. Forty-something years ago, on a wee hours of a Sunday, my mother had a 10-pounder. I was born from an unfortunate situation of my parents who were in dire need to uproot themselves from the very place they called home since their childhood. Most of my siblings were born and grew up in the same hometown. So growing up in a very different environ caused havoc to some of my older siblings --- who are unable to see the tin line between leaving and living. On the other hand, I did not realize the difference between us and them (my older siblings) even they kept teasing me and the other two younger siblings "Moros". I remembered how I was schooled by my older siblings about the sun, the moon, the stars...and why the sky is way up high. I've learned how greed can cause you hunger and misery from the story of the monkey and the turtle . I even learned the eye-flipping story of the pin...

heads or tails...

What's the best part of a fish to chomp on? The head. Especially when its sinigang or tinola (cooked in soup base) or even grilled. Filipinos has a funny gusto of eating fish, we are used to cooking and serving a whole fish -- with all its head, tail, bones, and skin on! Which, I know most people in California would gape at a sight of it--- a whole fish! Gawk. Ande cooked dinner yesterday. She called me saying "saan ka na" (where are you now?) at 645pm, while I was cruising or actually sitting in the traffic of SR-55 and I-5N. She said she cooked dinner. Yes, that's how lucky I am! I have a rent-free place and a dinner to look forward to. As expected, the one in my soup bowl was a milkfish head... and so in Ande's bowl. I went back to the kitchen for seconds and found the same heads and some tails of the milkfish in the pot. Went back to the table, grabbed my eye glasses again as milkfish are really, really bony! ...

and so it goes...

Search This Blog