Postcripts from the ICU

It took me two hours before the attending resident had finally completed the form required to claim my father's pension plan. For two hours, I was forced to wait for him inside the Intensive Care Unit as they attend to this dying patient who was stabbed several times in his chest - abdomen area. From where I am standing, I saw them putting some sort of a tube device in his mouth and at the same time providing him with oxygen through the rubber thigamajigie that resembles a big balloon.

Around me were different semi-conscious and comatose patients with different ailments. I was told that one of the patients near the door suffered a head injury, while in front of me had an abdominal operation... I think. Working there requires a strong mind and tough spirit. Seeing different patients in that state may remind you of your own love ones. You'd see them in the faces of those who lie in that room.

I think this is my weakness. I tend to get serious and upset with my gentle emotions. No wonder, I define strength as the state free from all emotions - especially those that will render me weak and helpless. The resident who was there when dad died was cordial enough to entertain my conversations. We had a fun time while it lasted, I even doubted whether he was a PLU or not, since I have this general thought that doctors nowadays tend to be "non-straights".

Lately, I see myself as capricious decision maker. I tend to decide on things, only to reconsider my decisions after further re-examination. I was in the mood to party tonight. I even claimed that I will take back Malate after being absent for oh-so-many months. But after I've got home, I've realized that playing SIMS2 and writing an entry in my blog would compensate the time I'll spend partying in BED.

Besides, the cost of partying would be a further loss to my savings, since my speaker had been busted this afternoon and I will need a replacement soon.



So for the second time this month, I decided not to party at the eve of a party night.