The Search for 30 Foreskins: The Aftermath

After examination week, it’s just about time we once again cringe up on our thesis work. Our study involves the use of a video to decrease the pain perception and increase the knowledge of children undergoing circumcision. We were able to gather respondents during the summer break since that was the “peak” season of circumcision programs sponsored by the different local government units and private parties. We actually participated in two missions, one in St.Theresa’s College and another in Quezon City which gave us a handful of subjects. 


Summer break ended and were still in need of 20 more participants. Our research professor suggested that we just organize our own "Operation Tule" program. I was half-convinced with the idea since school had already started thus adding to the difficulty of finding subjects.

Last Sunday, we took the risk of making a circumcision program materialize. We pulled together the resources coming from the community of  San Jose Del Monte Bulacan, UST Hospital Operating Room, Medical Missions, Inc., Rotary Club Internationale, and other volunteers. I personally would like to thank Sir Gian Carlo Torres for helping us with the supplies, Maam Brenda Luy-Aragon for helping us find a volunteer doctor, Mrs. Neulaendner providing us with transportation and Dr. Pio Calma for joining us in this Operation Tule.


The circumcision program lasted from 10:00am up to around 5:00pm. We were very exhausted after the last operation but still very happy since we were able to give our service to the community. Aside form that, our group was also very happy since were were now able to satisfy the required number of participants for our study.


After packing up our things, we were led by one of the community leaders to the water refilling station donated by the Rotary Club Internationale from Korea. I personally believe that dole out giving of goods would only provide temporary relief so it's really a good thing that the Rotary makes projects like this which could help the community to be self-sustaining.


Before heading back home, we were led to the house of one of the community workers to eat. As we approached their house, we saw pink and purple cloths hanging as decorations in front of their house. Her daughter was celebrating her debut! It was the first time I went to a debut without even knowing or even meeting the debutant. Oh, gate crashers we were.


Although it was  fun seeing how the community puts up celebrations like this. I like how everything was so simple in the place. From the decorations and the sound system, the party had a province-esque birthday feel to it.


While we were feasting on the platter of pancit, menudo, lumpiang shanghai and morcon (I just had to put the entire menu in), one of the volunteers went up to the microphone and acknowledged the group's presence and contribution. We felt very appreciated at that time. It's one of those appreciations that you don't normally get in the hospital setting where people just seem to come and go. This makes me consider taking up a career in Community Health Nursing (CHN). I mean, even though you don't get much compensation for doing your work, the fulfillment you get from serving people is enough.


I even like the though of doing home visits, conducting health education programs at the barangay halls, and giving immunizations to babies and children. Economic matters aside, I don't get it why nurses have ironically no jobs in the Philippines and are struggling to pay hospitals for work experience while there are a lot of countrymen in need of their services. Choosy lang talaga siguro ang ibang mga nurses. I think CHN is still one untapped field currently unemployed nurses may explore.

One sentence from the volunteer struck me the most. He said, "Mas mabisa ang gamot kapag libre". Oo nga naman. Mas mabuti nga naman kung habang nagpapagamot ang pasyente wala na siyang iniindang bayarin. Sana maitanim ito sa kaisipan ng mga health care professionals na dapat hindi lang pera ang habol sa kanilang propesyon kundi pagtulong din sa mga may sakit at nangangailangan ng kalinga.

Flood Can’t See Me

Arrgghh! I hate it when you exhort all your efforts to go to school during a heavy downpour only to find out that classes were suspended just as you entered the gates. 

Imagine how much I had to endure just to go to school. First, I struggle to delay my gratification of sleep, constantly reminding myself that my Rizal class starts at 7am. As I came into full consciousness, I see the clock’s hands point to 6:30, which gives me only half an hour to brush up. I resort to sacrifice and skip my breakfast, put on my uniform and hurriedly walk across the street to ride the jeep. Breaking news: THERE WERE NO JEEPNEYS! Arrgggh! 

Still aiming to arrive at school before 7am, I succumbed to the extortionist ways of the golden tongued pedicab driver who kept prodding me to drive me to UST for 60 pesos – that’s double the price if I rode the tricycle and about nine times the fair if I rode the jeep. Are there existing laws that cover up against these types of abuses? Can pedicab drivers be reported to the LTFRB? Can this be considered an abuse to my right to transportation? Enlighten me on this.

As the driver dropped me in Navarra St. (where the flood is still less than knee length), I had to put up with the flood and walk along the murky waters of Dapitan street. I winged it anyway, like a natural student of UST, formed to the core and made steadfast for these situations. At the sidewalk, I could see hesitant faces of freshmen, unsure of whether to dive or just keep calm and stay stranded. By the looks of it, they’ll choose the latter. I then theorize that the point of being stranded due to floods is not a hapless, uncontrollable situation but rather a choice – you can always do something, brave through the waves to avoid getting fixated from where you stand. This is only applicable is if the will is strong and if the disgust threshold is just as high.  

 After overcoming the hardships of finding something to ferry me to school and overcoming the disgust of walking in the flood, I reached the gates of UST. The guard was just announcing that classes were suspended. Great, now I have to figure out how to go home. Arrrgghhh!

Students in Euphoria

While I was walking around the corridors of the building, I saw a rare incidence of diplomatic student rampage: students rejoicing because classes got suspended.


Along the halls, everyone who knew of the good news cheered on the announcement by the Office of the Secretary General. Later on, as the message got passed through classroom to classroom announcements and via SMS, you'd see that uncontainable happiness from the eye bag circumscribed eyes of the students. "Yay! No case presentation for today!" or "No quizzes!" were all I heard from the lower year levels as they started to go out of the classrooms hugging each other like they were fresh from liberation.


I can’t get it why they were so euphoric; I was indifferent at the matter. Probably student nurses must be so stressed so these class interruptions served as their escape rope from all quizzes, duty hours, case presentations, and recitations. What the lower years don’t recognize is that these academic requirements are there to haunt them until finished and that suspension of classes is just prolonging the agony of even thinking about them. Suspension of classes is clearly not a Win-win situation as they would just be bombarded with the requirements and their deadlines once classes resume – additional stress for you then. You might say that, suspension of classes may allow the students to have more time to study, I digress. You’ll more likely sleep or watch DVD, or something.


Anyway, I’m heading home before Espana Blvd. Waterpark reopens.