I've always wanted to become a medical doctor. I even took my Applied Physics course since it's the closest cliff I could cling to so I could jump to premed courses -- I never took the jump though, and ended up being a pseudo Artist/Physicist.
But yesterday at Iram resettlement I became a doctor for a short period of time.
While taking the task of pharmacy work for a high school reunion medical/dental mission, I would never forget this one particular incident with an old Aeta lady. I took her medical prescription, looked for her medicine and told her the instructions. She looked at the medicines then at me showing her broadest smile. She muttered "Dok, madi .... (native language)"
She was talking in Ilocano, which I did't know -- and she was trying her best to understand my instructions. We ended up using hand gestures and a few tagalog words she understood. "Dok" she said gesturing a writing motion. I told her I wasn't a doctor and that I would gladly write down the instructions.
When I was about to leave, she just stood there and smiled -- "Madi madi", then pointed at her two children: a baby and a toddler. Then I looked at the next prescriptions only to find out that I was gonna be her doctor for 2 more sessions. "Salamat Dok" was all she said and it drew a smile across my face.
'No point arguing', I simply said to myself.
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Bro and mama was planning on what to prepare for the noche buena. Everything was in place, when my sister-in-law received a sad news from her home. Her father was murdered -- and her brothers went missing, probably trying to hide from the dispute.
Suddenly, the joyful planning of sweets and meals went sour.
Until now, I still haven't received news from Kuya, and they will be spending the yuletide in Tarlac for the funeral.
Christmas would never be the same again.
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