Ten days can be too short or too long.
It’s too short if you’re spending it with a loved one knowing you’ll be apart again for a long time.
It’s too long if a loved one is in the ICU while you’re praying for a miracle that will get him through.
But sometimes it’s just the right amount of time to bring a bit of clarity after searching and failing to find some.
On the last week of November, I said yes to going on duty in small hospital in Mindanao with two goals in mind. First is the chance to earn money. The second one is to fulfil a dream that was already long forgotten.
I was excited to experience being a doctor in a far flung area in the Philippines even just once, before I continue on my journey of quitting medicine. I didn’t really know what I was expecting. I just wanted to know how it would make me feel. I was curious more than hopeful. I was supposed to be there for 10 days as a Pediatrician.
A friend told me it was like I was living in my own Hometown Cha Cha Cha era. In the Kdrama, Shin Min Ah was a dentist from the city of Seoul who moved to the seaside town of Gongjin. She was the only dentist in the small town. It wasn’t part of her life plans but there she found not only patients but people she eventually called her family and of course, the love of her life, Kim Seon Ho aka Hong Banjang. I was obsessed with this show I even talked about it here in this newsletter. Haha
And yes, it did feel like I was in my own Gongjin. The hospital was a few minutes away from the beach with people who were as warm and friendly. On our first night, a Christmas program was held at the plaza. After a light up ceremony, townsmen were singing and dancing just like in one episode of the said Netflix series.
But alas, I didn’t find love in a person like Hong Banjang - a handsome, capable, kind, and smart man. Though I think I found love in some other form. A kind of love that somehow helped me put back the pieces of my self broken by loss, and pieces of my heart breaking everyday from yearning. It was a form of love that I probably wouldn’t find in any other place. It was the kind of my love where the giver and the receiver is one - myself.
On our first day, the hospital was inaugurated as a Primary Hospital 14 years after it started operating as an infirmary. The facility was serving three other nearby municipalities. Other patients would need to travel 2 hours just to see a health professional. We didn’t see any patients then as we were allowed to rest after a tiring half a day worth of a road trip.
Then on the 2nd day, after a whole day of seeing children from this side of the country, a small fire in me stated burning.
I thought that I lost that light but apparently, it was just there. It just needed some sparks to keep it going. It wasn’t fiery, passionate nor all encompassing. The heat was warm, steady, and comforting.
It felt like a homecoming.
It gave me a feeling of coming back to a place that is comforting after a long time of being in a place that was unfamiliar and disorienting.
It felt like I was in a place where I fit just right. And though it was the last place where I thought I would find it, there was where I found peace. I found light.
The next coming days was a bit difficult, technically speaking. I didn’t have the privilege to request for laboratories left and right. Medications I deemed necessary were unavailable. I had to read Xrays if I wanted to manage patients fast. We even lost our water supply. We sometimes slept with no electricity waking up drenched in sweat but unable to take a bath immediately.
I was reminded that sometimes, we just do the best that we can.
On my 4th morning, I lost a patient. He was skin and bones with probably an overwhelming infection and I guess we were all just too late. It brought me back swimming on the all too familiar pool of guilt. It made me face my own insecurities and self sabotaging. But in a place where I can’t afford to doubt my own self, I learned how to let go. In this place where we can only do so much, I was reminded to let God.
By the end of the 6th day, the self confidence I knew I lost was slowly coming back. The GPs were all doing a great job but ultimately, when I was there, the sick children has no one else but me. A father said “Sabi po nila may Pedia kaya dinala ko na ang anak ko”. And from there I slowly regained what I lost. I started to believe that I am capable of doing things even though not perfectly.
As the days went by, and the things that were new became a routine, it felt like my old self was meeting my present self. Suddenly, there was an understanding. That they may be two different people but ultimately they come home to one place - to me.
Going back to my first question on the first part of this story - if I lost money, my sense of self, my dreams, and my whys - how else can I measure my own success?
After 10 days, I didn’t just get to check something off my bucket list. I have figured out that I can measure my own success by simply being able to do difficult things for others. I don’t need the recognition or awards or titles. I’m already successful if I get to make a little girl’s father grateful with my presence in their small town.
As I finish this piece as the plane is descending, bringing me home, I realize that maybe this is the rebirth I’ve been waiting for. The painful part is done, hopefully. There is a new light within me. Though I’m not sure how long the light I found will keep on shining.
And that’s okay. I’m not afraid anymore.
If there’s one thing I came to know about myself is that I never lose hope, no matter who I was, or who I become to be. When the time comes that it gets dark again, within me is the only light that I would ever need. I will never lose it. Even if I get lost again, It will always lead me back home.