So,
I cannot live
without
these metals and bulbs
but
at least
I can
soften
its effects.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Wonder
I often love to sit and wonder,
what did the world look like when the first human being came to this place?
What would the world look like without humans?
Friday, July 25, 2014
To My "Dad" Ralph
This roller coaster ride started on February 27th.
As I was leaving the office, I checked my cell phone for messages. Shelley left a message, “Daddy is not doing well. I am going to the hospital.”
Her tone of voice told me a lot. This is not good. You were admitted a few days before, due to a bladder infection and dehydration. I have been checking your blood test. There was no infection in the blood.
What could it be?
When I reached the hospital lobby, I got a call from your attending physician. He told me briefly what was happening.
Finally, I reached your hospital room. There you were, gasping for your air, using every abdominal muscle that you can recruit. It was not a very good sign.
The working diagnosis was aspiration. You were ready to be transferred to the skilled nursing facility to recover that day. Your breathing suddenly changed.
DNR ( Do Not Resuscitate ) or Full Code? Your attending physician kept bringing up that question. Just a few days ago, Shelley and I asked you the hard question, “How can we modify the help that you get at home so that you do not get dehydrated and get admitted to the hospital again?”
We took care of that question, but we did not anticipate this new one.
The plan was to transfer to Intensive Care. Your attending physician made that decision. I agreed. I was not sure if you could make it through the night.
The next day, Shelley’s voice in the phone was jubilant. “Daddy’s doing much better. He is just like the Energizer Bunny who keeps bouncing back!”
Your son Bob came from Ohio that day. I did some research and prepared some of your lab reports to share with him. The conference by the elevator was good. I was able to explain your medical condition to him. I felt that with more information and understanding, he was able to accept your state of health.
So, three of us were in front of you when I asked, “The hospital team has been asking me about you code status. What should I tell them?” I proceeded and explained the difference between DNR and Full Code.
To our surprise, you had a very clear idea of what you want. It would be DNR. The discussion ended right there.
Tuesday, March 3rd. You were transferred to the skilled nursing facility. Somewhere along the line, hospice care was brought up. I did not know the details of that discussion.
Wednesday, March 4th. You were in heart failure. They also found out that you had a heart attack.
Again, another tough question, “Hospice or back to the hospital?”
All along, I have been switching hats. At times, I was the physician explaining your medical status to Bob and Shelley. At times, I was your son, your adopted son in Albuquerque. At times, I was your friend, someone who talks to you about Tiger Woods and the golf swing.
Ben, your nephew and a doctor too, helped us make the decision. They gave you some diuretics. You felt better. They transferred you to the hospital.
I learned something that day. I learned that I had already changed from a physician, to a friend, to a family member. I could not make an objective decision anymore.
Thursday, March 5th. You were burning with fever. You kidney numbers were creeping up. You were struggling with your breathing again. This time, the x-ray of your chest showed pneumonia. When I left your bedside that night, I was not sure if I will see you again. I did say good night. I was not sure if you heard it.
Friday, March 6th. Like the Energizer Bunny, you bounced back again. It seems that you were just going to kept going, and going, and going. I did not know what was worse, this roller coaster emotional ride between hope and fear, or the roller coaster at New York’s stock exchange.
Saturday, March 7th. I was driving down the Pacific Coastal Highway with my wife, Angela, after her audition for the Songfest at Pepperdine University when Shelley called. She said that the decision was made to put you on hospice. She said that you were comfortable with that decision. The infection was overwhelming and the kidneys were failing.
Monday, March 9th. Shelley called in the morning. You passed away peacefully that morning. She said that you did not have any wrinkles on your face. I was happy to hear that. I felt sorry that I did not have a chance to say goodbye, one more time. Where did the Energizer Bunny go?
As I write this newsletter, I have your picture which Shelley gave me yesterday next to my computer. The place was Concord Golf Club in New York. The caption says, “Staff Outing July 28, 1994. It showed you on the white tee box swinging the golf club.
We had our golf outings too in the last few years. You were not able to make a full swing, but I would not make a bet against your short game. You could still chip and putt.
Talking about putting, Shelley gave me your putter last night. I will bring it to the golf course and play with it this year. I know that there will not be any more golf outings with you in person. With that putter in hand, I know that you will guide every putt and we will drain those testy putts together.
Lastly, I am happy to report that I completed my first 5K run. 38 minutes and 51 seconds. It is not a bad record for an old novice like me. I am sure you could beat that time when you were my age.
I will do the Duke City Marathon this October. I will print a tee shirt that says, “This is for Ralph!” Run with me, we will celebrate together at the finish line!
written April 2009
As I was leaving the office, I checked my cell phone for messages. Shelley left a message, “Daddy is not doing well. I am going to the hospital.”
Her tone of voice told me a lot. This is not good. You were admitted a few days before, due to a bladder infection and dehydration. I have been checking your blood test. There was no infection in the blood.
What could it be?
When I reached the hospital lobby, I got a call from your attending physician. He told me briefly what was happening.
Finally, I reached your hospital room. There you were, gasping for your air, using every abdominal muscle that you can recruit. It was not a very good sign.
The working diagnosis was aspiration. You were ready to be transferred to the skilled nursing facility to recover that day. Your breathing suddenly changed.
DNR ( Do Not Resuscitate ) or Full Code? Your attending physician kept bringing up that question. Just a few days ago, Shelley and I asked you the hard question, “How can we modify the help that you get at home so that you do not get dehydrated and get admitted to the hospital again?”
We took care of that question, but we did not anticipate this new one.
The plan was to transfer to Intensive Care. Your attending physician made that decision. I agreed. I was not sure if you could make it through the night.
The next day, Shelley’s voice in the phone was jubilant. “Daddy’s doing much better. He is just like the Energizer Bunny who keeps bouncing back!”
Your son Bob came from Ohio that day. I did some research and prepared some of your lab reports to share with him. The conference by the elevator was good. I was able to explain your medical condition to him. I felt that with more information and understanding, he was able to accept your state of health.
So, three of us were in front of you when I asked, “The hospital team has been asking me about you code status. What should I tell them?” I proceeded and explained the difference between DNR and Full Code.
To our surprise, you had a very clear idea of what you want. It would be DNR. The discussion ended right there.
Tuesday, March 3rd. You were transferred to the skilled nursing facility. Somewhere along the line, hospice care was brought up. I did not know the details of that discussion.
Wednesday, March 4th. You were in heart failure. They also found out that you had a heart attack.
Again, another tough question, “Hospice or back to the hospital?”
All along, I have been switching hats. At times, I was the physician explaining your medical status to Bob and Shelley. At times, I was your son, your adopted son in Albuquerque. At times, I was your friend, someone who talks to you about Tiger Woods and the golf swing.
Ben, your nephew and a doctor too, helped us make the decision. They gave you some diuretics. You felt better. They transferred you to the hospital.
I learned something that day. I learned that I had already changed from a physician, to a friend, to a family member. I could not make an objective decision anymore.
Thursday, March 5th. You were burning with fever. You kidney numbers were creeping up. You were struggling with your breathing again. This time, the x-ray of your chest showed pneumonia. When I left your bedside that night, I was not sure if I will see you again. I did say good night. I was not sure if you heard it.
Friday, March 6th. Like the Energizer Bunny, you bounced back again. It seems that you were just going to kept going, and going, and going. I did not know what was worse, this roller coaster emotional ride between hope and fear, or the roller coaster at New York’s stock exchange.
Saturday, March 7th. I was driving down the Pacific Coastal Highway with my wife, Angela, after her audition for the Songfest at Pepperdine University when Shelley called. She said that the decision was made to put you on hospice. She said that you were comfortable with that decision. The infection was overwhelming and the kidneys were failing.
Monday, March 9th. Shelley called in the morning. You passed away peacefully that morning. She said that you did not have any wrinkles on your face. I was happy to hear that. I felt sorry that I did not have a chance to say goodbye, one more time. Where did the Energizer Bunny go?
As I write this newsletter, I have your picture which Shelley gave me yesterday next to my computer. The place was Concord Golf Club in New York. The caption says, “Staff Outing July 28, 1994. It showed you on the white tee box swinging the golf club.
We had our golf outings too in the last few years. You were not able to make a full swing, but I would not make a bet against your short game. You could still chip and putt.
Talking about putting, Shelley gave me your putter last night. I will bring it to the golf course and play with it this year. I know that there will not be any more golf outings with you in person. With that putter in hand, I know that you will guide every putt and we will drain those testy putts together.
Lastly, I am happy to report that I completed my first 5K run. 38 minutes and 51 seconds. It is not a bad record for an old novice like me. I am sure you could beat that time when you were my age.
I will do the Duke City Marathon this October. I will print a tee shirt that says, “This is for Ralph!” Run with me, we will celebrate together at the finish line!
written April 2009
Black & White
I love black and white.
I love its simplicity.
Am I childish to think that way?
Am I immature?
Am I idealistic?
Maybe yes.
Maybe no.
All I know is that I need to hold on to a dream.
Call it Euthopia.
Call it Heaven.
Call it Shangrila.
Call it Eden.
I shall build it in my heart.
Safe from the world of turmoil.
Safe from a world of temptation.
Safe from a world of conflict.
Black is black.
White is white.
As simple as it can be.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Practice Dying
I have been doing a self-improvement project for the last 20 days. I am following a book by Denise Linn called Soul Coaching.
The topic for yesterday was “Facing your Death and Embracing your Life”. One of the homework yesterday was “practice dying”. She wanted us to visualize ourselves dying. “The more you can accept and even embrace the fact that your body will die, the less the fear of death will subtly penetrate into your daily life. The less the fear of death you have, the more fully you can live in the present moment.”
I know that this may not be a comfortable topic for some people. If you are one of them, please stop reading.
The year is 2037, it is spring time. I turned 75 years old this past December. I am living with my wife in Alhambra, California. My wife and I moved here when I turned 60. We chose this location because as Asian American, we missed our food.
My life is simple. I play golf at Alhambra Golf Club every Monday and Thursday. I play with a regular foursome. We are always the third group to tee off. It is usually around 6 am. We all carry 5 clubs only. They call us the Five Club Foursome. We have fun. We do not keep any score. Golf is really a walk in the park!
Today is Thursday. I had my usual soy milk in the morning. I brought my snack to the golf course. We played 18 holes with our five clubs.
I had my lunch with my wife at home. Since there is a big Asian population here, we can buy a lot of fresh fruits and vegetables. Lunch was as usual. I ate a cup of steamed rice with a dish of vegetable and a dish of meat. I took a nap after lunch. Then I walked to the nearby library to read. I got back at 5 pm and was ready for a light dinner.
Bedtime was 9 pm. I hugged my wife and kissed her on her forehead and said good night. As usual, I go to bed earlier. Her bedtime is 1 am. I went through my routine. I brushed my teeth, changed and went to bed. Within a few minutes, I was sound asleep.Something happened at 2 am. I was not sure if it was a dream or not. I could not breathe. I thought I was under the comforter. I tried to move it out of the way. I took one big breath and everything went quiet. My heart stopped pumping because of a massive heart attack. It was game over.
I can see myself from above. My wife was sleeping quietly. I had a peaceful look on my face. The next thing I knew, I was sitting at the beach at Long Beach, California. The sun was rising from the east. The sunlight turned the surface of the water golden.
I can see a small boat going off the harbor. I can see my wife, my son and my daughter. They were all wearing black. My wife was holding an urn.
The boat headed west into the Pacific Ocean. I was born and raised in the Philippines which is on the west part of this ocean. I lived in America for 45 years. It was an easy decision to make when we were discussing where to spread my ashes after my cremation.
The wind was blowing west. When the boat was about 15 miles off shore, it stopped. My wife opened the urn and poured the ashes. The wind carried it into the air. With the golden rays of the sun, it also turned gold. It is as if thousands of pieces of gold float in the air. Before long, it all settles on top of the water. A few minutes later, it all disappeared.
The wind stopped blowing. The boat stopped rocking. Out of nowhere, a seagull soared towards the sun. Life goes on.
Rose
was attraction.
The second glimpse
was electrocution.
The third glimpse
was suffocation.
I knew our souls connected
until this day.
Introduction
"Halo-halo (Tagalog language for "mix-mix") is a popular Filipino dessert with mixtures of shaved ice and evaporated milk to which are added various boiled sweet beans, jello and fruits. It is served in a tall glass or bowl.
Ingredients include boiled kidney beans, garbanzos, sugar palm fruit (kaong), coconut sport (macapuno), and plantains caramelized in sugar, jackfruit (langkâ), gulaman, tapioca, nata de coco, sweet potato (kamote), cheese, pounded crushed young rice (pinipig). In terms of arrangement, most of the ingredients (fruits, beans, and other sweets) are first placed inside the tall glass, followed by the shaved ice. This is then sprinkled with sugar, and topped with either (or a combination of) leche flan, purple yam (ubeng pula), or ice cream. Evaporated milk is poured into the mixture upon serving" from Wikipedia
I was born in Manila, Philippines in 1961. My father was born in Vigan, Ilocos Sur, Philippines. My mother was born in Bacolod City, Visaya, Philippines. My grandparents on both sides were from Fookien, China. It is located at the southeastern part of China.
Growing up in Manila, my neighbors were mostly Filipinos. I spoke Fookien at home and Tagalog outside. In school, we learned English in the morning and Mandarin in the afternoon. Tagalog is the official language in the Philippines. With it's 7,100 islands, there were different dialects. In China, there were about 30 provinces and each province has its own dialect. Fookien is from the southeastern province of China. Mandarin was its official language.
So what has this dessert have to do with me? At age 52, I feel that that is who I am right now. I am an American citizen. I speak English at work. When I come home, I speak Mandarin with my wife. Our most favorite vacation place is Los Angeles, California. It is not because of Hollywood or Disneyland, it is because we can eat authentic Chinese food. When I go to Las Vegas, Nevada, I would stop by Goldilock for my Filipino fix. I would order Halo-Halo, palabok, kare-kare or dinuguan.
After high school, my ambition was to become a Chinese writer. I wanted to go to Taiwan to study Chinese literature. My father was against it. I followed his wishes and went to medical school. My desire to be a writer and publish a book has been with me all these year. This is my book, a collection of my essays, poems and photography.
So what has this dessert have to do with me? At age 52, I feel that that is who I am right now. I am an American citizen. I speak English at work. When I come home, I speak Mandarin with my wife. Our most favorite vacation place is Los Angeles, California. It is not because of Hollywood or Disneyland, it is because we can eat authentic Chinese food. When I go to Las Vegas, Nevada, I would stop by Goldilock for my Filipino fix. I would order Halo-Halo, palabok, kare-kare or dinuguan.
After high school, my ambition was to become a Chinese writer. I wanted to go to Taiwan to study Chinese literature. My father was against it. I followed his wishes and went to medical school. My desire to be a writer and publish a book has been with me all these year. This is my book, a collection of my essays, poems and photography.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)