A wise man once told me: It is the journey that teaches us about the destination.
My own journey towards becoming a doctor started when I was working as a nurse at the Ifugao Provincial Hospital. It was worse than the Negros Oriental Provincial Hospital.
The lack of doctors was blatantly glaring. It was on one of my night duties when a patient almost died because the doctor couldn’t be found, that I decided: I should be able to do more.
I took the National Medical Admission Test, and got lucky. The first school I applied to was the University of the Philippines. Ambitious. I never got to the interview. When I was rejected, I made a vow: One day, I would go back and become the dean of the UP-College of Medicine. Audacious.
It was when I was searching for a list of all the medical schools in the country that I first learned about the Silliman University Medical School, and Cebu Institute of Medicine. I sent applications to both, and got scheduled for interview at SUMS first.
In February 2013, a mountain girl from Ifugao flew for the very first time to Dumaguete City, where she promptly fell in love with the campus. I never got to see CIM, and to this day, I thank the fates UP turned me away.
People think that medical school is unforgiving, stressful, and over-the-top exacting. It is all that and more. But I can’t imagine spending the last four years any other way.
In just four years, my classmates and I have accumulated a lifetime’s worth of experience, memories we will never forget for the rest of our lives.
In a few days, we shall be venturing out to different hospitals all over the country. But before that, I would like to spend a few minutes looking back on the road we traveled.
First year. I remember the first day of classes, that afternoon when we had to introduce ourselves with a unique adjective. I still think the award for Most Head-turning Self-introduction goes to “Lami Leanna”.
I remember our first exam in Anatomy. It was somewhat of a wake-up call that made me realize two things: first, my auditory retention was unreliable, and second, that I was amidst brilliant people. It was both intimidating and inspiring. It was also then that Dr. Carmela Vera Cruz would say, It’s okay to be upset, upset enough to fight back. And we did fight, didn’t we?
Second year. Two words: keep left. No matter how low your exam score is, as long as you’re on the left column of the list, rak na this! We perfected the art of cramming that year. We lived it, breathed it, had breakfast, lunch, and supper with it. It was also a year of hypochondriasis and self-diagnosis. I personally survived diabetes, diverticulitis, bipolar disorder, and pancreatic cancer. It was truly the most exhausting and rewarding year of our med school lives.
Third year. Group discussions were the thing. We learned to speak out our opinions in a group. Dr. Carriaga used to say, “Speak what you know; ask what you don’t know”, but then you have to stand in front until you know the answer. We discovered that like a lot of things in life, there is a proper way of approaching a disease. It was a year of worksheets, frantic sneaky Googling, and control C-control V [copy and paste].
Fourth year. It finally came, and we were thrown into a world that up until then had been just stories in legends.
In the course of a few weeks, we went from being classmates to teammates, as we tackled the onslaught of admitting histories and physical examinations, drug names, didactics, and endorsement grillings.
Internal Medicine taught us to multitask as admissions just kept coming. It taught us how to ask the right questions. It also taught us that when a person beyond 35 years old tells you he has no hypertension, he probably has. On that note, dear parents, please, please don’t forget your maintenance medications.
Surgery. The world of heroes and tailors. It taught us the great value of three things: helmets, dog leashes, and celecoxib [to treat pain or inflammation].
Dr. Ceasar Rana would tell us, “A great surgeon knows how to operate; a better surgeon knows when to operate; but the best surgeon knows when not to operate.” To the future surgeons in the room, hear hear.
Obstetrics and gynecology: when we praised the god of caffeine while shamelessly grabbing someone’s belly. We learned the true meaning of “hard” with the uterus at full contraction strength. And that no matter what you do, the midwife always has a different internal examination.
I remember my first episiorrhaphy. I spent about an hour stitching, and when I was done, I got worried that I made the Gravida 5 mother a virgin again. What if I made it too tight?! Dr. Gem Austria taught us the value of always striving to be better. “No one is indispensable”.
Pediatrics. Those cute little culture media. We mastered the art of distraction, and the power of the color orange. We also learned that in every consult, you have at least four patients: the child, the mother, the grandmother, and the yaya. We also learned about what we were getting into when Dr. Elminda Oracion would say: “Medicine is a unique profession because we are entrusted with God’s most precious creation — man.”
Psychiatry. A time of self-discovery where we learned that we, along with most of the class, have Obssessive- Compulsive Discorder.
Community. Fun times. No night duties. It was when Dr. Ma. Lourdes Ursos tried to teach us to care for those who cannot bring themselves to the hospital. We were taught to bring medicine to the community. We were also taught “TB or Not TB”.
In a year, we were given the privilege to witness man’s most vulnerable moments, and his most rewarding, as well. We witnessed the resilience of a hemorrhagic stroke survivor, the decisiveness of a surgeon, the unparalleled joy of a new mother, the devastating sadness of a new widow. We listened to the first cries of a newborn, and the final breaths of a grandfather.
These shared experiences have become our defining moments that drive us to become the doctors our communities need.
Dear classmates, as we go our own separate ways, may we always remember: We are privileged to have entered a profession where everyday is an opportunity to be a hero. Let’s go save lives.
