greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his fellow man.... the feast day of st. maximilian kolbe

august 14th is the feast day of st. maxilmilian maria kolbe. i found that out today as i happened to go for morning mass (for a change, i know).
since i've always been inspired by his story, i thought i'd share it with you all (who all, i wonder)
anyway, here's the links, take your pick:
1) catholic forum's saints index
2) wikipedia article
3)from the jewish virtual library
4)kolbe net

and before i go,
st maximilian, pray that we to may have the courage to do as jesus calls us to do when the need arises, amen.

people have problems

yes, everyone has problems
and some of them make mine seem inconsequential in comparison
it's really humbling to see people get on with their lives despite all their problems.
and the funny thing is, i would never know some of these till they told me about it. not that i could do anything about it having come to know about it.

take for example a middle-aged doctor working in my hospital. he's good at his work, and a very jovial person; also a good teacher. the other day he asked me to try and get some information for him related to getting his medical degrees and diplomas attested so he could go work elsewhere. so the usual thoughts go through my head- probably wants to make more money. not in a judgemental sense, but in a matter-of-fact way. belive me, where i come from, it's perfectly understandable that people want to go elsewhere for better financial returns for their hard work. later the story came out. he had a son with chronic renal failure with a failed transplant. all these years of treating the renal failure and transplant rejection was obviously a big financial strain. so his wife decided to start working elsewhere to make ends meet. once she left, the boy became moody and difficult, and refused to eat or take his medicines. so now, he too wants to go join his wife with his family.
and you'd never know that there was a tragedy of this magnitude behind the smiling face, and competent professionalism. and what about the courage to deal with all this for so long?
almost makes you question god's judgement on the trials he puts some people through.
teach me to trust. lord, that all things will be made beautiful in your time.

jeremiah 7 scares me

my daily reading brought me to the book of jeremiah a few days ago, and in due course of time, i reached chapter 7. frankly, it scares me. read on:

The word that came to Jeremias from the Lord, saying: Stand in the gate of the house of the Lord, and proclaim there this word, and say: Hear ye the word of the Lord, all ye men of Juda, that enter in at these gates, to adore the Lord. Thus saith the Lord of hosts the God of Israel: Make your ways and your doings good: and I will dwell with you in this place. Trust not in lying words, saying: The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, it is the temple of the Lord. For if you will order well your ways, and your doings: if you will execute judgment between a man and his neighbour, if you oppress not the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow, and shed not innocent blood in this place, and walk not after strange gods to your own hurt, I will dwell with you in this place: in the land, which I gave to your fathers from the beginning and for evermore. Behold you put your trust in lying words, which shall not profit you: To steal, to murder, to commit adultery, to swear falsely, to offer to Baalim, and to go after strange gods, which you know not. And you have come, and stood before me in this house, in which my name is called upon, and have said: We are delivered, because we have done all these abominations. Is this house then, in which my name hath been called upon, in your eyes become a den of robbers? I, I am he: I have seen it, saith the Lord. Go ye to my place in Silo, where my name dwelt from the beginning: and see what I did to it for the wickedness of my people Israel: And now, because you have done all these works, saith the Lord: and I have spoken to you rising up early, and speaking, and you have not heard: and I have called you, and you have not answered: I will do to this house, in which my name is called upon, and in which you trust, and to the place which I have given you and your fathers, as I did to Silo.

(from the douay-rheims-challoner version)

pascal and the god-shaped hole

pascal once wrote that there is a god-shaped hole in each one's heart
how true that is!
and to think that i believed it in theory all these years, and now, suddenly, am finding myself on the wrong end of the thought
the implication being, of course, that only god can satisfactorily fill that hole in our hearts, and anything else we try to shove in, will only be like a square peg in a round hole.
so here i am, thinking that perhaps, i need to clean my room; or get back to studying regularly; or exercise regularly; or eat healthy; or declare my love; or a million other things
what my mind is conveniently, or rather eagerly, ignoring is that i need to get right with my maker again.
is it tough?
you betcha!
but is it what needs to be done?
oh yeah.
no matter how many times the prodigal son walks away, the father will be found waiting at the gate for him to come back.
so pray for me that i may go back to my father's house, where even the servants live in love and comfort; whereas i wallow with pigs

the seventh harry potter

i managed to read the last harry potter in a few breathless hours over the weekend, and thus managed to throw my usual schedule out of kilter. as a result, i have an extra pile of dirty clothes waiting to be laundered, and the room's till dusty.
but anyway.....i'd say it was well worth it
the first three books had an innocence to them that was refreshing. i really loved the unbeatable combination of boarding school life and magic.
the next three books were dark and brooding
i still remember thinking that as far as writing or children went, the death of cedric diggory in the fourth book was an extremely badly-managed piece. but i guess from that book on, rowling was no longer writing just for children
the fifth and sixth books did not make any special impression on me. almost felt directionless.
but this one was, oh wow!
deathly hallows has some interesting theological elements in it too.
the idea that victory over death being in meeting it head-on and fearlessly seems to ring a (christian) bell.
i loved the ending. some say it was too corny and sugary. but you know me, i'm a die-hard romantic, and totally fall for the kind of endings epitomized by this one.
and i always end up imagining the future.
right now, i'm wondering about remus lupin's and tonks' kid. both parents died fighting voldemort. wonder what he'll grow up into. another harry potter?
but perhaps, it is too good an ending to keep dragging further into the future. it looks good where it lies.
thanks j.k. rowling, it was a really good series.

i hate my work

you might wonder at the title.
here i was all happy with my work and the challenges involved, and all of a sudden, you see me complaining.
well, i don't exactly hate the particular work i'm doing.
what i do hate is what my work does to me and does not let me do.
i don't have the freedom i used to. most of how i spend my time is dictated by my work.
when i was in medical school (seems so far away, doesn't it? it's actually been only a little over a year), there was more freedom.
i could cut class whenever i wanted. i remember cutting class the whole day just to watch all three episodes of LOTR (lord of the rings) at a stretch on my friend's computer. or sitting and playing extremely out-of-date versions of need for speed.
those were the days.
now, i have to be inside theatre almost before others have to be inside the loo. and i have to stay there till the last patient is safely transferred out. and the good lord save the junior anaesthetist seen with a mobile phone or book in the hand inside theatre!
was just reminded of these things when a friend of mine was going through a tough time and i could not contact her because of all these constraints. at that moment, i really wanted to be with her, or at least call her. we could, and did, liberally cut class when a friend needed something back in medical school. now it's just not possible.
wonder if 'those were the best days of my life' and they really will never come back?

i took the book quiz too

You're Confessions!

by St. Augustine

You're a sinner, you're a saint, you do not feel ashamed. Well, you
might feel a little ashamed of your past, but it did such a good job of teaching you
what not to do. Now you've become a devout Christian and have spent more time
ruminating on the world to come rather than worldly pleasures. Your realizations and
ability to change will bring reverence upon you despite your hedonistic transgressions.
Florida will honor you most in the end.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

it is pretty interesting, i must admit.
the characterization does ring a bell.
but i wonder how whether i like the british isles has anything to do with anything other than my (non-existent) tourist activity?
and hey, does this mean all humans can be characterized into 64 groups?
somehow, i believe we're much more diverse than that.
and who exactly is florida??!!

abstinence education

i found a good interview-article on abstinence education
thought i should put it up.
it's an interview with jason evert of catholic answers
read it here
it's from zenit
i think i remember reading in the newspaper about the study debunking abstinence education mentioned in the beginning of the article. it seemed like a gleeful declaration of victory by those espousing 'safe sex'. when will people learn that sex always has consequences, and is beautiful only in within the loving embrace of marriage?
any thoughts?

comparing big tobacco and big sodomy

read another article of the conservative kind
so, would like to foist it upon you
this is from worldnetdaily
personally, i think we've got a long way to go before this demon is demolished

robin williams' jokes on the pedophilia scandal

hi,
wasn't really planning to post again today, but stumbled on this article by tim graham at newsbusters
unfair, really, what celebrities are allowed to do and get away with

friday the thirteenth of july- ah, the memories!

it's friday, the thirteenth of july
and i'm wondering about the last time it was friday the thirteenth of july, back in 2001
it was a weird day.
i had a foot which was hurting badly after getting injured with a rusted iron nail and after stuffing it into tight leather shoes for two days for impression's sake
i had a very heavy suitcase i'd been lugging around for almost a week now
i had just been accepted into a very prestigious medical school
i had barely enough money to buy the cheapest of bare essentials to start surviving in a new town
i had just said goodbye to the last person i knew and was about to be all alone in an alien town, with an alien language, among totally alien people, for the first time really away from home.
i was having all sorts of apprehensions that now, seem so hilarious

who'd have known that it was the beginning of a wonderful journey
five wonderful years of college life lived, and enjoyed, to the hilt
six years in which, i believe i've grown up, and hopefully, grown into a better person
so many wonderful friends made
a small town in the middle of nowhere with nothing to recommend it, and yet me becoming so comfortable with it, that i now contemplate staying here for a long time to come

oh, the memories
do you remember when we all used to get together every week to pray and sing and dance?
do you remember when we all used to sit up late at night making inane contraptions for some program or the other?
do you remember the effort we put into all those sports, dumb charades, quizzes, dances and music?
do you remember standing on stage having won the annual music competition?
do you remember those long night-walks all over the campus?
do you remember gas-sessions?
do you remember bush-hunting?
do you remember the class meetings? the arguments? the hammer on the lecture tables?
do you remember the hill-top retreats?
do you remember the tears shed on the last hill, when we talked late into the night?
do you remember songs like "i know a place" or "milk"or "jambalaya" or the 'grease' tunes?
do you remember the bus-rides with roof-banging, foot-tapping carlos santana tunes?
do you remember how even the pop-haters used to join in and sing christina aguilera songs just because the class was doing it?
do you remember dinners in small joints and posh rooftops?
do you remember easter sunrise on top of a hill?
do you remember the water fights in the bus and the lecture rooms?
do you remember being thrown into a pool on your birthday, or the midnight party?
do you remember the three traditional questions?
do you remember christmas carol rounds?
do you remember dressing up in out-landish clothes, or dressing your juniors up?
do you remember imitating teachers?
do you remember sleeping in stuffy classrooms?
do you remember the long hours in library before the exams with the short stress-buster breaks in between?
do you remember making noodles, or getting coffee to stay up and study?
do you remember starting internship knowing next to nothing?
do you remember saying goodbye to your best friends?

do i remember?
how could i ever forget!
thank you B.O.N.O., there's no one like you!

a friend has come visiting

yesterday,
one of my very good friends came visiting.
today, i feel like telling you about her, and about how we became friends
a person who's existed at the periphery of your consciousness for five whole years, whom you barely know, with whom all conversation is polite small-talk; would you expect such a person to become a close friend? i don't think so.
i guess i have my wretched (or in this case, blessed) sense of humour to thank for this wonderful occurrence.
so here's this person who was in my class all the years of medical school, and yet i barely knew, except as the friend of a friend.
it happened in internship, when we were never even posted together
i was in the main hospital, and she was a few miles away, at a small health centre.
i don't know which one of us made the call, and i certainly don't know why the call was made. as a humorous end-piece to the usual polite conversation, i cracked a joke about her missing her boyfriend, who was also in the main hospital. and there the conversation ended. five minutes later, i got a message from her telling me that her relationship had been long over, and that it hurt to be reminded of it. i was mortified. i seriously contemplated just burying my head in the deepest sand-pit and avoiding her completely, so embarrassed was i.
i thank God i chose to call her instead to apologise. we started talking again, but this time, the talk had real substance. and we haven't stopped talking since.
the 1 year of internship saw us grow so close, that a lot of people were quite sure we were attaching ourselves to each other 'on the rebound', considering i too was commonly thought to be recently jilted.
but who cares? why should i go around explaining to everyone?
both of us are still amazed at this friendship, and the way it came about
thanks, dear friend, for being there through some very lousy times.
but she had to go. at the end of internship, she went off to a small hospital in a far-off place to work for two years.
and that's how, after 3 months there, she's come to visit.
it was so wonderful to see her standing here again.
here's to you, radiance and brightness, may your life be full of them

11th July- R.I.P. my friend

when i was in school, back in the big city, i had very few friends. mostly just the kind you hung around with in classes, and shared your lunch with. nothing close or intimate. no baring of the soul, no sharing of thoughts and secrets.
then he came along. funny, we were not even in the same school. we met in church. i don't even remember how we became friends, just that i soon realised how important he was to me. i wonder whether our bond was stronger or weaker because of the fact that we both had almighty crushes on the same girl.
he was always the 'life of the party' kind of guy (i say "kind of" because at that time, i never had attended any parties; those came in college) and had all the smooth moves. he was, to put it simply, comfortable with himself. i was the exact opposite. when nervous, i used to swing between two extremes- absolute lips-glued-together or total tongue-wagging-with-no-sense-of-direction. and yet, he never felt i was below his standards of cool.
he was a lovely singer. people wanted him in the choir all the time. no one asked me, on the other hand. i should have gotten the hint. but he always used to make me sing with him. and till i was with him, i never realized what a lousy singer i was. some of my best memories with him are those of walking down a road just singing any popular melody.
what sealed our friendship was the discovery of God together at a charismatic retreat. how does one explain that bond to someone else?
sure we fought once in a while, but who doesn't? for three years, he was my soul-mate.
then i came off to college in this small town.
it really took some time to find new friends.
for the next four years, we kept in touch through mail and over the phone.
the last time i met him was when i went home for christmas in the fourth year of college. i didn't even know he'd be coming over from his college elsewhere. but he had news. he was going away, to new zealand. his parents had moved, and so would he. it was goodbye.
i knew then, that i would probably never see him again. sure, i promised myself i would one day earn enough to go there and meet him. but somehow, i knew it wouldn't happen.
so we kept in touch by mail again. he seemed to like the place.
i was in the last year of medical school, presenting a surgery case to a rather odious lecturer, while my friends all stood around, some barely concealing boredom, other furiously taking down notes. and my mobile was buzzing away. there was no way i was going to pick it up then.
the class ended and i made my way back muttering about the lecturer and wondering why he had to be like himself. then i remembered the missed call. it was from someone back in the big city. i called up.
he had died in a car accident- july 11th, 2005.
i remember walking down the corridors of the hospital with tears streaming down my face, and with "no" on my lips. i remember my classmate watching me get into the bus and asking jovially why i was looking as if someone had died.
i remember making my first ever international phone call to speak to his parents. well, i didn't speak. how does one speak to a man and woman who've just lost both their children in one fell blow (his younger brother was with him in the car)? but i did cry. and all his mother said was, "your friend's gone, isn't he?"
not a day goes by when i don't wonder- why him, or pray for his soul
ETERNAL REST GRANT TO HIM, O LORD; AND MAY THE SOULS OF THE FAITHFUL DEPARTED, THROUGH THE MERCY OF GOD, REST IN PEACE, AMEN.

why is faith so difficult?

why is faith so difficult to have?
why should i have to struggle to keep up my faith?
why do i keep sinning despite wanting not to?
why do i feel like a total failure?

there was a time when i didn't have a faith. my mother had taught me some prayers to be said by rote, without my having the foggiest idea what they were all about. it did not matter, it was a minor demand on a teenager's time, just to keep the peace. so was going to church and responding during mass, and singing the songs.
church was also a social affair. got to see girls!!!!!! (yes, i studied in a boys school) and to talk with friends while going and coming back. even enjoyed to fun of the youth groups.
then came a time when faith came, and it came easy.
jesus said i love you, and i said the same to him. i felt good about myself. i could turn to prayer at any opportunity. it was wonderful. everything seemed to be going right. i felt peace, i felt joy and happiness, i felt jesus.
then where did it all go? how did it slip away?
why is it that i don't feel his presence any longer? why is that the temptations come thick and fast?
it's all i can do to try and fight them.
i feel like a frightened man, leaning his back for dear life against the door, while a giant monster wants to enter the room. i sweat, i tremble, and i shiver. i send up prayers asking for the monster to go away. but then i feel like letting go, standing limp, and letting the monster in.
so i do exactly that.
then come the reproaches (yes, like in the hymn)
i feel lousy about myself, i hate myself, and curse myself. i decide, i have to get back to the lord. but then again, i'm too tired. it seems like a never ending cycle of sin-remorse-confession-sin. sometimes i think to myself, just give up trying. don't even bother.
what have i achieved in all these years of straining against a leash too thick to break or chew off, other than a sore neck?
where's the jesus who promised to ease my burdens just when they became too much to bear? doesn't he see me collpase under the weight?
then the theory and the platitudes kick in:
- it's my fault for not trusting in him, and trusting only in myself
- it's not true that the burden is too much; i'm just too weak for it
- god loves me and won't try me more than i can handle
and many more

i'm tired right now. i want to give it all up, to hang up my boots, and call it a day
so long, and thanks for all the......?

what i learned from i.v. lines and spinals

i think i mentioned some time ago about having a terrible day at i.v. lines
well, that day stretched on to become two and then a few more.
it was absolutely nightmarish, i lost all confidence in the first and most basic thing an anaesthetist has to do.
on the other hand, my spinals were going in jsut fine. i was confident of giving spinals and would invariably "feel the give" and see the CSF flow out.
so i decided to place my i.v. lines in God's capable hands.
seriously, i started to say a silent prayer to God before each routine i.v. line!
am i superstitious? i don't think so. along with the prayer, i forced myself to concentrate harder on the tehnique (even if that sounds like too much of a word to use for something as simple as an i.v. line), and it actually started working.
i've been having less trouble with them now
i understand that sometimes, you just may not get a line, and i'm fine with that.
(i remember an incident form internship when i had to take an ABG at the end of a 24 hour duty in medicine. i poked one radial artery and could not get it, so i tried the other. i still didn't get it. extremely tired and irritated, i went for the femoral artery, and I STILL COULD NOT GET IT!!!!!!! worse, i tried the other femoral and managed to miss that too. to this day, i wonder how i managed to miss two femoral arteries. finally, i got bugged and left it to the next day's duty person.)
the spinals were teaching me something new: i had become too comfortable with them, so along came two or three people in a row in whom i could not get the CSF at all.
so, once again, i have to learn to not be over-confident, to invoke God's help and presence in the smallest of things, and to concentrate on the given work, instead of treating it as hum-drum.

what is home?

hello thin air!!!!!
am back after a gluttonous and slothful week spent at home
did nothing but sit and talk with my mother and brother, and eat a lot (so what's new, you ask? ok, fair point.) and watch a lot of mindless television
been wondering about something for quite some time now, in fact since i came to college.
been wondering what home is.
i once thought up a rather cheeky phrase which i thought was true: HOME IS WHERE ONE UNPACKS
sounds reasonable doesn't it? you stay at home, and pack up to go out, and return when your excursion is over, and unpack.
for the last 6 years, i've been unpacking here, and living off a suitcase at home
yes, my room was not preserved in pristine condition for me simply because......... there's not enough space.
i still remember when i used to live at home. me and my brother sharing that bedroom. we were really happy.
oh no, we weren't in love with each other or anything. just that after 15 years of living in a small house with one bedroom and a hall (and usually, there used to be at least 6 people cooped up there, sometimes upto 10), we were overjoyed at having something to call our own "space"
of course it wasn't perfect. my father always used to come into the room to read the newspaper in the mornings to save on electricity spent on fans and lights!!!! and the concept of individual privacy was not something my mother understood. she wanted to know about every phone call, etc (my brother and i are still trying to tell her about those concepts). nonetheless, it was ours, even if for a few precious hours (suddenly, i'm thinking: it rhymes!!!!! can i add another line ending with wars, arse, mars, cars, SARS, or whatever?)
my brother and i had our own bed, and a table in between, and the cupboards nicely demarcated.
the first time i returned home, the two beds had been joined, and my brother needed both to sleep on. well, of course i was free to use it, but the difference was there. when i opened the cupboards, it was full of his stuff.
and i....... lived off a suitcase.
and how can i blame him? why should he save up space for me?
i guess it was more quickly obvious to him that i had left home for good.
i never thought about it back then. but it dawned on me over the years, that i had left home for good.
by the end of next year, my mother will retire from her government job and will have to vacate the quarters (our home?). she'll move back to my parent's native place, my brother will remain in the big city about 2500 kilometres away, and i'll be here, in this small town in the middle of nowhere, but geographically somewhere in between these two.
so i know, that what i used to call home, will pretty much cease to exist in another 18 months or so.
and, 6 years later, the truth is that i feel more comfortable here; i have my own space here, my own privacy. maybe that's what i meant. after all, this is where i unpack, isn't it?

two nervous girls

met two extremely nervous girls today.
will be putting them to sleep for surgery tomorrow.
one is 13, and having a hip surgery. she looked so vulnerable, felt like picking her up, and rocking her to sleep.
was feeling irritated after having to wait for so long to see some patients. but it melted my heart to see her lying so scared on her bed with her mother sitting beside her. so i kidded her some, called her 'your majesty', and that kind of stuff. got her to smile, which was really worth it, i must say. convinced her to suffer one small injection. promised her in would buy the smallest needle in the world for her sake.
the other one was more of a problem. she's 22, and the kind i'm scared will jump three feet in the air if i even show her a needle. and we were planning a spinal on her!
talked to her too. but not sure i did much good in her case. wondering if gas-induction would not be the best for both of them. just hold mask and watch them sleep and then do the rest. hmmmmmm. tempting, isn't it?

am going home!!!!!

i can barely wait!!!
am going home for one whole week!!!!
after 15 months of labour in this place, and not all of it enjoyable, am finally getting to go home.
and though home is big city, for me at least, access to the net is not as easy as here. so, you may not find me chipping in for about a week. but i promise, there will be lots to tell when i do return.

Planned Parenthood apparently covering statutory rape- so what?

hi folks,
read an article on lifesite.net about Planned Parenthood apparently being caught on tape not bothering to report a case of statutory rape. you can read the story here.
seems like someone posing as a 15 year old pregnant girl went asking for an abortion with her 20-something "boyfriend". and a P.P. worker apparently advised that they would not look too closely into the exact age of the girl and could just put down whatever she said her age was.
now, i have always depended on lifesite and zenit for good coverage of relevant catholic news, but with this, i think lifesite is loosing focus.
firstly, not asking for the age in an abortion clinic is not so surprising. in most countries that have a liberal abortion policy, the patient does not need to provide any proof of age, even where there is a defined age-limit for statutory rape.
secondly, is that the reason lifesite objects to the very existence of P.P.? P.P. is an organisation that murders, and facilitates the murder of, many innocent human beings- today's Holy Innocents. that is, or at least should be the reason for lifesite objecting to them.
seriously, does lifesite think it wrong for a priest to not report a rape if he is told of it within the seal of confession? obviously not. we could argue that the motivation and reasoning are totally different in this case and that of P.P., but the end result is the same. what if P.P. decides to complain about priests obstructing justice by not divulging the contents of confessions?
let's stick to the real problem, the untold number of innocent and precious human lives being destroyed, instead of getting mired in such and similar (there have been articles about P.P.'s financial woes, and about some P.P. worker being accused of sexual assault) pointless sensationalism.

forced sabbatical, homosexuality, work stuff

hello, non-existent readers!!!!
was forced to take a break from pouring out my ? innermost thoughts by the temporary closing down of the computer center at the most user-friendly hours.
anyway, got back on the comp today and stumbled on an interesting article:

Facts, not flattery, about same-sex attraction on MercatorNet

wish i could drill some of these facts into my usual bunch of liberal friends
but as is my usual please-everyone-and -go-along-with-everyone-just-don't-openly-disagree policy, i usually don't.

oh, and in case you were wondering, work is going on well, thank you very much
did have a horrific day when i counter-punctured every i.v. line i tried to start. was much more exasperated at myself than my senior was for having to stand behind me and watch, and then having to do it again after i Had just bombed on the best vein on the patient's body
though that day has passes, have still not gotten over the habit of putting in a fervent though brief prayer to the Almighty just before poking the patient. good habit, i think.

anyways, be seeing ya (i'm hilarious!. i mean, who am i kidding? i know not one soul is reading this load of horse manure!)