June 29, 2014

Tell your parents/ grandparents or anyone you know who wears dentures to please, please remove them before sleeping.

I present to you one of our ENT cases where we had to remove the denture from an elderly man’s trachea (airway!!!). He said he had the denture for more than 20 years. It just so happened that one night, he forgot to take it off before sleeping. The metal hook (if you look closely at the xray, you’ll notice it) snapped, and he swallowed it!

Now, there can be two paths for the swallowed denture. It could go straight to the esophagus, or to the airway. And you guys know how fatal it could possibly be for this patient’s case.

It was amazing that it did not cause him to choke to death. Heck, he was even able to chatter away prior to induction. But still, something worse could have occured.

This sort of thing actually happens! We’ve had cases of toddlers/ children who swallow coins.

Cases like these are totally preventable. So, let’s not let it happen to any of our loved ones.

April 29, 2014

Jenny Han, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before

Jenny Han, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before

(Source: aseaofquotes, via hidingthewords)

April 26, 2014
"People do not seem to realise that their opinion of the world is also a confession of their character."

—  Ralph Waldo Emerson (via psych-facts)

April 26, 2014
You are my next stop.

You are my next stop.

(via the-absolute-best-posts)

April 25, 2014
I recognized my second year in PGH by visiting Booksale. As luck would have it, I finally found a copy of The Secret Garden! The best part of it is that it was only P20. Yay! :)

I recognized my second year in PGH by visiting Booksale. As luck would have it, I finally found a copy of The Secret Garden! The best part of it is that it was only P20. Yay! :)

April 25, 2014

I’m damaged in a way that no one will ever fully comprehend. It amazes me how I still manage to get through a day. Most of the time, it’s because I am surrounded by people who try to understand even a small portion of who I am. For that, I am eternally grateful.

1:12pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z_mFKy1E4a0jP
  
Filed under: friends thoughts personal 
April 19, 2014

So, I assisted this consultant surgeon one time. I’ve actually assisted him twice before, but he didn’t remember me. Nevertheless, he asked for my name and a little about my background.

Some surgeons are like that. They control the conversation, they put everyone at ease while he’s drilling a hole on the patient’s head.

The one thing I like about this particular surgeon is that he has a wealth of information regarding music. Well, at least about the bands he likes. Beach Boys was the background music that time (deliberately played because we knew he’d love it, and because he’s kind of a music snob to today’s music), so he kept on talking about them. How the band fared during his time, how they were compared to the Beatles, etc.

That went on for a while as I handed him the needed instruments. Then he turned his attention to me.

"What kind of band do you like, Ms. Marikina?"
He asked where I came from prior to the start of the surgery.

Then everyone’s attention was on me— residents’ and anesthesiologists’.

"Uhm… Eraserheads." I said that with a bit of hesitation, knowing he’d scoff at it.

And scoff he did. “What? Eraserheads? Sounds baduy to me.”

I gave a small laugh. I mean, I really don’t want to argue with someone who hasn’t experienced the Eheads’ music.

"Well, have you even heard about the Carpenters?"

"Well, Sir, I know them, but I haven’t really listened to their music because I was born in 1990."

That did it. Everyone in the OR laughed. The consultant seemed a bit embarrassed and surprised that someone as young as I am is already a professional.

"Why, I was already a resident when you were born!"

Yep, I thought, it makes you feel old, doesn’t it?

April 19, 2014
manilatalks:

Loving the 60s architecture of this school building in St. Scholastica’s Academy Marikina. #architecture #design #building #school (at St. Scholastica’s Academy of Marikina)

Heyyyy there, St. Scho! I can see that you have retained the playground. Thank you.I miss looking at your buildings. I miss the calm that comes with it especially when the sun’s setting and everything becomes orange.I wish I could visit you again.Love,A Kulasa that misses you

manilatalks:

Loving the 60s architecture of this school building in St. Scholastica’s Academy Marikina. #architecture #design #building #school (at St. Scholastica’s Academy of Marikina)

Heyyyy there, St. Scho! I can see that you have retained the playground. Thank you.

I miss looking at your buildings. I miss the calm that comes with it especially when the sun’s setting and everything becomes orange.

I wish I could visit you again.

Love,
A Kulasa that misses you

(via marcusluna-deactivated20140428)

April 9, 2014
Almost Lover

The shift was almost over. We’ve inspected every room except for one. Though it was almost 10pm, I volunteered to go there alone. My colleagues went ahead to the locker room.

I was sitting on the empty OR table when you entered the room. You sat beside me as I stared at the new lights installed just last week. We did not say a single word. Our presence sufficed despite the silence in the room.

It has already been months since we talked to each other. After weeks of turning our last conversation in my head, I realized we only made things worse for each other. I should not have told you how I felt. I should not have blamed everything on you. Yet you accepted every accusation I threw on your way. Now I’m the one who’s suffering.

"I’m sorry," you said. I liked how that sounded— as much as it broke my heart to hear it. You still haven’t forgiven yourself.

"Me, too." By this time, I looked down and closed my eyes. I added, "I never thought it would come to this."

Millions of thoughts invaded my head, but I know none of those will ever repair what’s already broken between us.

"I don’t know why I did that."

"Why you made me feel like we might have a chance?" I turned my head to look at you. I was searching for some hope that you’d finally admit that I wasn’t just delusional— that you really led me on.

You didn’t look away, but you weren’t holding my gaze either. It’s like you were thinking of something— or someone— from far away. Were you thinking of her? You should be thinking of her.

"Yes, I thought we might have a chance."

"But you love her."

You paused for a while. “I do. I love her.” You spoke slowly, as if wanting to emphasize the point to me. You didn’t have to. I knew that from the start.

"Well, I guess I have to thank you, at least, for admitting that you did make me believe that you love me. It’s also my fault. I should have been more resistant, but how could I find the strength to reject you when you’re the man I’ve always prayed for?"

You were crying by the time I finished. “I know,” you said while the tears rolled swiftly, “I’m sorry.”

I closed my eyes yet again and breathed deeply. “No one deserves to be hurt in this way. Not even us.”

There was silence. And then you said, “I’m sorry I’m not the one you prayed for.”

I gave a small laugh, then everything around me went blurry. I could feel the warmth of my own tears burning my cheeks.

Why am I always the one who loves more? It’s true, what that song says about heartbreaks. Someone gets hurt more than the other.

I inched my way closer to you, placed my arms around your neck, buried my face on your shoulder, and sobbed. I could not get the words out now. I just prayed while I sobbed myself to exhaustion. I prayed that I’ll get over you. I prayed that the hurt I’m feeling would be put to great use in the future.

It’s funny how I never prayed for you to choose me over her. How could I? You two are perfect for each other. I was just an obstacle that your relationship will eventually conquer.

I released my hold on you and raised my head. You took a little longer to release me. I looked at you, knowing that that would be the last time for me to see those eyes which held the most intense and sincere gaze.

You moved your head closer to mine, but before anything else could happen, I stood up. I left the room without looking back.

That was how I said goodbye to my almost lover.

March 8, 2014
plasmatics:

Campfire by Knate Myers


Someday. I swear.

plasmatics:

Campfire by Knate Myers

Someday. I swear.

(via the-absolute-best-posts)

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