28 Years in 700 Words

I'm not afraid to say I'm from Capiz. Long ago, our housekeeper warned me never to say it because people would mark me as “aswang”. But at 28, I'm proud of my province's rich seafood smorgasbord, and I admit to having once played naked in the local beach, now newly baptized as “La Playa de Roxas” but shall remain forever in my heart as “Baybay”

My father is from Roxas City. He grew up selling fabrics with my grandparents on market days, and working in rice fields on weekends. His father taught him carpentry and plumbing, while unknowingly equipping him with the skills to practice Orthopedics, as well as the ability to woo my mother and her family with screwdrivers and a monkey-wrench instead of bouquets and poetry.

My mother hails from Lipa City. Daughter of Mayor Baldomero Reyes, she was used to “entertaining” visitors as a child. She introduced me to the smell of barako coffee and knew I would fall in love, instantly.

They met in medical school, fell in love during internship, married after residency training and then grew themselves a brood of 6 rowdy boys and 4 lively girls, one of each are adopted. They settled in Roxas City where I had a blessed childhood.

With three older brothers and two younger ones before I could be given a sister, who could blame me for growing up a tomboy? I remember wearing one of my brother's briefs just to fit in, and it didn't help that they gave me a boy's haircut because they said I never combed.

By the time my sister was born, I was old enough to realize that I was bigger than other girls my age and became highly self-conscious of it through my teenage years. In high school, I spent a lot of time with a small group of friends I've known since kindergarten. We still keep in touch.

I took a pre-med course in Miriam College, graduating with fairly good grades from BS Psychology. At the time, I was resigned to my fate of being chubby no matter what I do and have long decided to focus on other matters, which was a good thing because it made me realize that I can be beautiful still.

I went to West Visayas State University College of Medicine thereafter, and I could sincerely say that the best and the worst years of my life were spent here. It was hard for me to catch up with subjects such as chemistry and pharmacy. While it was a simple review to my BS Chemistry and BS Biology counterparts, I had to tackle these subjects like I have never met them before.

I always considered myself fairly average. Never too over-achieving. Never lagging too far behind. While growing up, grades have always been just numbers which were never overly emphasized to my by my parents. But for the first time, in Medical school, I was suddenly conscious of those numbers. I was suddenly realizing that I was struggling a bit.

I took it all one day at a time. Never stressing over what could have been done but I just kept on moving until I was finally standing in front of that camera, holding my license to kill in front of me, flashing that smile.

It was in medical school where I met my boyfriend. I believe he loves me. All 68 kilos of me. We're still together and going on our 5^th year. We both know sacrifices have to be made now that we both finally decided to start training in our own chosen fields.

My other jobs included moonlighting in two of the four hospitals in Roxas City and then as medical officer for the local Red Cross. Here, I grew a sense of advocacy and apostolate, but I admit to having difficulty counseling blood donors who have tested positive for blood transmissible illnesses. Despite the workshops and manuals, I always felt ill-equipped.

Before deciding to train, I have worked in a clinic in Boracay, which catered mostly to local residents, a significant handful of the local, and not-so-local commercial sex workers and their clients, and to the calls of some of the hotel guests, often with cases of diarrhea from their seafood splurge of the night before. Here, I made friends with some of the jewelry peddlers, sometimes sitting with them in their stalls and shouting: “Keychain, Ma'am, Sir?!” during my free time in the afternoons. I left Boracay with a broken heart, the way a kid must feel after a great summer camp. You get a taste of idle freedom and just know you can't stay there forever.

I seriously I don't know how to end this monologue.

Perhaps I should just say, “Thank you for your time and God bless!”