LAST MINUTE MADNESS

Friday, 17 July 2009

Sunday, 22 March 2009

Saturday, 13 September 2008

  • Disco



    I awoke because of the din.

     

    Strings of “Oh Carol”, interspersed with a Shaggy song…

     

    There was a “disco” going on a little farther down the street from my place, and it was going on well into the night. Knowing these community “socials”, the people involved will probably be keeping at the music until maybe 4 in the morning.

     

    What’s a “disco”?

     

    Well, in small towns, mine included, people hold dance parties where organizers pay for the lights and music, set up tables and chairs (for two or more) and line up stalls where you can buy drinks (both soft drinks and beer, and maybe even the staple Tanduay rum). AND, maybe most importantly, have an ever-friendly (it depends) staff at the entrance to collect a fee for “partying”.

     

     A lot of young people, from high school and older (to maybe folks in their sixties) gather themselves together and troop over to the local quadrangle, or closest basketball court (a common venue) to spend the night partying with friends, or meeting girls (and guys), or just plain ogle and drink away.

     

     Participants dress up to their latest party nines, and expect to have a lot of fun.

     

    This is an essential part of small-town culture, mind you. It is where young people meet other young people, where love affairs start and end, and where, booze flows so freely, anything (and I mean anything) can happen. A little backgrounder, folks…

     

    Folks, young and old alike, look forward to this weekly social gathering with fervor, expecting fun and being able to meet someone. Someone I know used to tell me that when she was younger, she had a special bra with hard cups that could and did prevent any male from pressing so close to her and getting any ideas. She met her husband in a dance such as these, though. They’re still together up to now. :-p

     

    A great way to kick off things. Discos are a real crowd-drawer, and for the politico who wants to get the word abuzz for his new programs, discos are good avenues for getting the word out.

     

    Money makers. If the local Sangguniang Kabataan (SK), or the local Cagers society) needs to raise funds, why, discos are the way to go. Aside from soliciting from the local officials and businessmen, they stage these fundraisers and rack up popularity points with the young. Also, store owners also get a tidy sum, because for a price, they can sell their goods (mostly drinks, smokes and chips) at a slightly higher price. (And sadly, the “friendly neighborhood pharmacist” also gets to make a buck with the young people…because like I said, anything can happen.)

     

    Cultural exposure. I’ve seen many expats and tourists at the discos at one time or other, sampling the culture and feel of the small town social life.

     

    Advertising. The popular song that gets people up from their chairs is going to get more airtime in the radios, as people request this over and over. That said, if you have a catchy beat that you want people to sit up and pay attention to, give it a go at a disco.

     

    However, because of the booze and the easily-shorted tempers, knife fights and brawls are quite a normal part in the list of “things to expect” at a disco. It even gets to the point where people would throw stones at each other and yell expletives. Which is a good thing the peacekeepers are around during the discos too.

     

    ************

     

    Well, it sounds like they’re playing the national anthem there already.

     

    You know what sounds come after the party breaks up?

     

    Silence…and of course,

     

    Chickens.

     

    :-p

     

    ************

Monday, 01 September 2008

  • “GOOD INTENTIONS”

     

    “GOOD INTENTIONS”

     

    An essay on the theme, “All that glitters is not gold: the perils of golden child parenting” (www.undiscussablerealms.blogspot.com)

     

     

    A little girl of four toddled into the Bank, one small hand gripped tight in her father’s large one, and her other tiny fist, holding in it her earnings from “helping out” at the store for the day. Dressed in her favorite little red dress with a bow in the back, she smiled in childlike glee as she entered the big, cool building, which always smelled so nice, like soft pine and spice.  It was her favorite day of the week, the one where she’d get to go with her father to deposit money from the store.  “Here’s my money, please,” she said in her young wee voice, while she got on tiptoe to put her little “share” on the teller’s counter.

     

    As a little girl, all she wanted to do was work in a bank, count money and help other people save theirs, like she had.

     

    Her parents had other plans, though…

     

    From the time she was born, they had decided that she was going to be the first doctor in the family. Her mother was a nurse, a woman whose biggest dream then was to wear the white coat and stand for everything that meant to go with it. She couldn’t, however. Back then, her father had told her it cost too much.

     

    And so, the little girl who loved red dresses, and dreamed of helping people with their money was given a new dream…to wear the white coat and to help people another way. A year ago she became the first doctor in the family, the beacon of everyone’s hopes, the family’s pride and joy…

     … she was, also, deep inside, as lost as any little girl could be. She only did it to make her mother happy, and that being out of the way, she did not know what to do with herself anymore. She was stuck in a career that she herself did not choose, and now she had no clear-cut path to follow.

     ----

              The golden child may be the prized firstborn, or the middle child with potential, or the precocious youngest child, but nonetheless, he or she is the one given the responsibility of being the bearer of the family’s proud name…the chosen one.

     

    ----

               Good intentions lie behind every push, every inspiration of every parent to raise children well. The drive to raise kids stems from a great many reasons.

     

              Such high hopes for any youngster is typical for parents, and there is always a need for them to want to see that their kids are going to do well in life, even from a young age. Most parents in North America give their kids a little push in the direction of working towards getting accepted into the best schools in the country, because they believe in the good opportunities that come with these. Parents in developing countries may set the bar higher for their kids, and push them accordingly, because they see it as a way to increase one’s status in life.

     ---

              In doing so, parents with these heartfelt good intentions may feel that they need to step in to their children’s lives and direct in both subtle and not so subtle ways, the path of their children’s education. Planning out rigorous activities for the children, working with the kids on various projects, including, anything to complete “THE plan.” In the case of the very supportive parents of the crop of Korean lady golfers who are taking the Golf world by storm, this illustrates the extremes of parental “support” which lead to favorable results.

     

              The have made it their business to push their kids to win, no matter how they would be perceived as. What would be considered as a rigorous and oftentimes stifling regimen of these Korean parents for their children is nothing short of a responsibility for ensuring that their children get the upper hand in the competitions. And when they win, they reap big benefits.

    ---

               Golden child parenting is not a new concept. In recent times, it was not only a fad to parent high achievers; it was also sometimes a necessary thing. When musical genius was displayed by a great number of Jewish children, and talent was recognized as such by their parents who developed them because it was a definite path for survival. Back then, Jews weren’t allowed to live in the cities, if they had a virtuoso for a family member, this would ensure that they had a chance to flee to the West, to freedom.

     

    Some Asian families pool together resources, or sell precious possessions, parcels of land, just to send one worthy child on to University, in the hope that this one offspring will make the family proud…and eventually earn enough to help other family members.

     

              In the end, it is a big responsibility for everyone involved. Parents become involved in every aspect of their child’s life, more often that not, making the important choices, making the decisions. The child is groomed, and molded in every aspect to suit a pre-ordained path. There is a need to “do everything, be the best in everything”, and this leaves kids drained, raised with the need to have constant approval, always looking to please.

     

              The rigid, pre-ordained course makes these golden children feel that perfection needs to be attained in everything they attempt. The parents need not say it out loud, but children are smart, and they see and feel things, they hear the tone of disapproval and immediately doubt themselves. They feel the bite in the criticisms and immediately begin to doubt themselves; they feel that there has been a withdrawal of parental love.

     

              This concept of “withdrawal of love” becomes subconsciously ingrained in their psyches that even at the cost of certain joys, they would sacrifice, do everything to please the parent, the so-called source of love. The drive to want to do well in everything, or “Overachieving” is oftentimes judged as a manifestation of this learned desire to “please” a love object.

     

              This becomes a “learned” behavior, eventually. The drive to succeed is dictated by parental approval, which, if left unguided, would have detrimental effects as the child grows up, carrying it all into adulthood. This innate need drives the individual to constantly want to prove him or herself, always seeking for approval.

     

              A child who was raised with a firm, guiding hand, but no shortage of encouragement learns to see the good in working hard. On the other hand, a child who was made to feel that everything, including approval, had to be earned in a place with a paucity of love and encouragement would surely have big problems.

     

              Burnout, emotional distress, anxiety and chronic stress, are just some of the things these children go through eventually in adulthood. One scion of a prominent family, sadly, broke down when she found out that she was only good enough for second place. Some Japanese and Korean children do schoolwork all day and into the night to please their parents, there were incidences of suicide among elementary school kids, because their grades in school were not good enough for their parents.

     

    It is bleak, indeed. There is stress and undue pressure in high achievement that will not guarantee satisfaction even if all the goals (albeit many) were achieved.  

     

    These are heavy loads for such little shoulders to carry, indeed.

     

    Perhaps, there are no children more golden than prodigies, as an example. These well-recognized prized children have taken our imaginations and have fascinated us with their skills. From the arts to sports to mathematics, we have marveled at these youngsters. Why so? For the very reason that they hold so much promise, and because they are so much alike to that what parents want their every little child to be; a virtuoso who is the best of everything, the envy of all others, the best of them all.

     

    However, the hands that bore them were also their undoing. Australian Daniel Helfgott, the pianist, dealt with an abusive and overbearing father, but later rose above his circumstances to have a very successful career. Jennifer Capriati, a tennis star in the 1990’s had a father who controlled everything in her career and pushed her incessantly, her career faltered eventually.  Tonya Harding, an ice-skating star, had a hard-driving mother who would verbally abuse her in practice and banned her from using the bathroom during drills, leaving her to urinate in the rink.

     

    The list goes on an on…these, and other “golden children” either had a mental breakdown, emotional problems or at the very least,  had their careers fizzle out into oblivion before it was their time. These are the times when parenting a golden child has gone extremely wrong.  These children had become commodities, and the parents were achieving success through them…which eventually became one-sided and unhealthy.

     

    The peril of golden child parenting is when parents start to live their dreams vicariously through a child, and demand utmost perfection in achieving these dreams. The child becomes an outlet…a receptacle of some long-held wish of one or both parents. The needs of a child become secondary or worse, forgotten. What is cultivated is a desire to achieve and please, and follow a preset path. While achievement is a necessary high, it becomes pointless and meaningless when it is only done for the sole purpose of doing it for someone else. There is no sense of accomplishment, which is why there will always be a need to repeat the task, expecting for approval, which may or may not come.

     

    Individuals, golden children they may be, who were brought up in a nurturing environment that fostered encouragement for dreams and a steady guide will grow up into fine individuals who will work hard to achieve the best for themselves. They will be creative and productive all throughout their lives. On the other hand, a punitive parental family environment that demands success at all cost, with no room for nurturing will surely bring about individuals who will impose the same rigid rules and beget the same effects on other lives.

     

    Parenting a child is a responsibility and a privilege. It is a responsibility to help see the building of a good future, making it  also a privilege for the parent to see that this future is built. Golden Child parenting is a partnership, because parents have the responsibility to set a standard to follow and provide the support and encouragement to guide a child to always do his best, so the child for his part, benefits from the guidance and loving environment needed to nurture his own dreams, not only those of his parents, but also his own, as well.        

     

             

     

             

             

Saturday, 30 August 2008

  • My "first baby"

      Where I work as an intern, it is customary to wear just about any "smart, casual" attire under your white short-sleeved coat. One particular day, I happened to wear something like this, an empire cut (although not as low-cut in the front as this one) top in brown.

    At the time, I was interviewing a pediatric patient, and asking details of this and that...and then suddenly, out of nowhere,  the patient's dad drops the bombshell,  "So, Doctor, is that going to be your first baby?"

    My first reaction? It was raising an eyebrow and clearing my throat, and then after a few beats, chuckling good-naturedly and saying, "Ahem, sir, I'm supposed to be the one asking the questions around here...but no, I'm not pregnant."

    ---

    tsk tsk.... While it was a tactless thing to say, it also sounded pretty funny. Because if I were to choose, I'd much prefer that he thought that I had the "glow of pregnancy" about me, rather than that I had a "globular abdomen.*"

    --

    * Pregnancy is judged by an increase in abdominal girth, which is seen as a more noticeable roundedness of the abdomen as pregnancy progresses...OR it could also mean that a girl needs to do sit-ups. Which I don't. Yet.

    --

    :-p To be perfectly honest, this is not really a life-changing entry...but this is just one of those cases where, in the ER, you have to be ready for anything, and i mean anything, including nosy-sounding, but nevertheless, well-meaning parents. :-p




Wednesday, 27 August 2008

Friday, 15 August 2008

  • Turning 27

    I turned twenty-seven years old two days ago…unlike my other birthdays, this one went without much fanfare (and I don’t think there’ll ever be a “party” for this one.).

     

    It was quiet, and lonely and boring…but not exactly sad, because I sort of had built into the idea that nothing was ever planned for this in the first place, and whatever I got from this birthday (I’m used to people giving me presents) was going to my Project Fund*.

     

    Nobody at the hospital knew that I was having a birthday, because aside from the fact that I probably couldn’t spend for splurging for meals/snacks for every greeter, I very well couldn’t announce to everyone that, “Hey, all, it’s my birthday!” That’s totally not my style.

     

    But a part of me also wished that somebody cared enough to do research...and look it up, because they thought I was important enough...  

     

    Apparently, nobody did. And so, the only time somebody at the hospital found out was at around 10 o’clock when Bernard and I took a duty break and sat down to dinner, and he went, “What’s with all the food?” (My ma brought me dinner at the hospital earlier that night.) and I calmly went, “Actually, it’s my birthday today.” And I went back to eating.

     

    Surprise, surprise…

     

    Well, all’s well that ends well. I didn’t have as much fun on my birthday as I wanted to, what with the 24 hour duty schedule that fell on that Wednesday, but I for one was touched by reading all the messages and getting all the greetings on my phone from all of you who cared. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again… Thank you, I was touched you remembered, really. (That  was meant to be just a joke, that “Greet Stephanie Happy Birthday Day” thing on my Friendster, but I’m glad you took it to heart…and yes, you DID make me smile, and go all fluttery in the tummy.)

     

    A part of me understands that as a person gets older, birthday celebrations lose their gloss and fanfare little by little, until they just lose all form of festivity and people just say, “ Hay, I’m old anyway, I really don’t care.”

     

    But I still  do. Honestly.

     

    I had wanted a birthday cake, with candles on it… And a bunch of pink roses...And a card that says, “Happy Birthday, love.”  And lots and lots of pictures.

     

    …………

     

    The night after my birthday, I asked my parents if we could go out and get a pizza for takeout, “Just cause…” When we got home, I looked for a candle and found one, a pink “wishing” candle and put it smack in the middle of the pizza, with the  mushrooms and the bell peppers.

     

    After closing my eyes, and making a wish, I blew out the candle.

     

    Well, there’s always next year…

     

     

    ____________

     

    * The Project Fund is short for the “Future Make-Happy Plans for Beautiful, Nice and Talented Stephanie” Project, which aims to pay for a new digital camera, a brand new laptop and a trip to Boracay, once all my work here is done. All donations welcome.

     

    * Thanks to ma for the silver slip-ons, Wanits for the hot jeans and wingy for the “contribution”. Yahoo.

     

     

  • Winning the 'Bowl

    Hear ye, hear ye…

     

    Guess who won this year’s Lung Month “Meeting of Wizards” Quiz Bowl?

     

    Not our team…

     

    We came in second place…Doc Imee, Doc Sat (the esteemed hospital heartthrob), Doc Rosario, Veronica (the german exchange intern) and myself (the alleged “bush-beater” ß I’ll explain later. haha).

     

    Still, it was a pretty good game…all serious questions, and some unforced errors…but mostly, all intellectual stuff. The first prize was a bag of goodies for everyone and Php 2000 gift certificates at Bethel’s Café Filomena.  Second prize was about the same, only 500 pesos less for the gift certificates.

     

    I gave mine away…since I wasn’t going to be able to take anyone out to dinner at the Café anyway anytime soon.  Besides, one certificate would be good enough for one of their famous “Large” Siopaos (plus extra, of course), and that’s good enough for me.

     

    They picked our names out from out of a hat, and between you and me, I silently pleaded the high heavens that I wanted to be a part of the “action”, which of course, got “answered” the moment my plea sentence ended with the period.

     

    It was fun, of course… maybe not as fun as the audience, but fun enough for all of us who joined. I’ve been joining quiz bowls ever since grade school (For starters, I was 3-time religion quiz bee champ when I was in Grade School at St. Paul’s…and many others later in life, but hey, who’s counting, right?)

     

    The Bottom line, I love it, because it’s a game, and it’s always fun to win any game. J

     

BabyDoc13

  • ...is a fun, feisty, free-thinking 26 year-old medical intern with the nasty habit of procrastination, looking desperately for a cure, and in the meantime living life vicariously through her brothers and sisters of the all-important BLOG. :-)

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babydoc13

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    • Name: Stephanie
    • Birthday: 8/13/1981
    • Gender: Female
    • Member Since: 3/2/2005