Update - Screw it, I'm going to Boracay.

I received an email yesterday from Uli... a German expat down in Boracay that runs a kite boarding school in Boracay: Isla Kite Boarding. We've been corresponding throughout the duration of my trip, and he's kept me abreast of conditions down in Boracay.

Of course, timing is everything. Its typhoon season. An oil tanker went down somewhere in the Visayas and I had no geographic clue how this affected Boracay. So, I pretty much wrote off the trip.

Uli's email assured me that the weather was great, conditions were excellent (in fact, they had been out kite boarding that day), and that the oil spill was of no threat to Boracay. The spill occurred in a different region of Visayas.

He's promised to hook me up at a bungalow in Boracay... $20/night. Bed, AC, and just meters from the beach. Simply amazing. Funny... the name of the place is called Alice in Wonderland. The puddle jumper is only a $100/RT.

And how exactly did I develop this sudden interest in kite boarding? My friend Miche told me about it, and it looks like fun. What more reason does one need? ;-)

Its off-season, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that Boracay is empty. I want the whole damn island to myself. And I want to clear my mind, find peace and relaxation.

I'll be there from Aug 27 - Sept 1. Sept 1 will be quite the marathon day... I'll hop on an island flight back to MNL, and then my flight departs later that evening (22:00) for the long haul back to the US. I don't even know what day I arrive in DC.

Day of Beauty – Part II

I dropped off mom’s scripts to be filled at the local drugstore. It would take about an hour to have them filled. I desperately needed a haircut and recalled a nearby barbershop (yes, with the spinning pole and old-style chairs) nearby.

I hustled over to the barbershop and was immediately ushered into a seat. I told the barber that I needed a haircut and gave him the instructions to shave the sides and back, and trim the top. You know when you walk into say a hair dresser in DC, you just want a quick in-out-haircut… typically no longer than say, 30 minutes. What I thought would be a 15-20 minute haircut turned into a 2+ hour unplanned day of beauty.

Throughout the course of my haircut, the barber kept on asking me if I wanted any "additional services." I was skeptical, and didn’t exactly understand what he was getting at. He told me that massage was included with the haircut.

Uh, ok. That was new to me.

Next thing I know, as I am still getting my hair cut, he puts my fiddles with the chair and a leg rest pops up (just like a recliner.) A random staff guy starts massaging my arms (I’m fully clothed… and yes, he is fully clothed.) and legs. It feels good and I don’t complain. I resisted at first, explaining that I had a massage and facial the previous day. This didn’t quite seem to register with the barber. Whatever. I went along with it.

Then he asks, “do you want a manicure?”

I felt rushed… I only planned to be there for 20 minutes and needed to go back to the pharmacy. I took a breath, tried to relax, and capitulated.

Manicure? Fine.

Pedicure? Fine.

Facial? I had just had one, but apparently “no” was not an acceptable response. Fine.

Ear-cleaning? Hmm. Never had THAT before. Fine.

Back massage? Ok fine. Let’s just get this over with.

And yes… he’s still cutting my hair. During this period of time, I had three people working on me: the barber, the masseur, and the mani/pedi/facialist. God, it was so weird... and all of this in an old school BARBER CHAIR.

Fast-forward… everything was finished. I left the pharmacy around 15:30, and it was now almost 18:00. Then the barber and the masseur started working my BACK (they had me lean forward.) They spoke to one another in tagalog, but I could tell that they really wanted to get the stress and tension out of my shoulders and back as they were still rock-hard. The barber and his assistant were pretty persistent. Unfortunately, I wasn’t so cooperative (or rather, my muscles weren't so cooperative.)

I let them go to town on my back, but I knew that it would take sledgehammer at this point to pound my muscles into relaxation. Their efforts were for naught.

I finally encouraged them to give up. I needed to go.

I gave them my deep thanks… feigned deep appreciation for their efforts and wonderful services (granted, all I wanted was a f**king haircut, but whatever…) I paid my bill (turned out to be ~$40USD… no wonder, he was padding all of these f**king services) and left to go back to the pharmacy.

Lesson learned from the story: I must be really f**king tense. Two consecutive deep tissue massages and no one could get me to loosen up. I could never fall asleep during the treatments. My mind still racing with things-to-do. So much on my mind. So much to do. Need to make sure everything goes well.

I really need to go to Boracay.

Day of Beauty – Part I

On Thursday, I found myself with a free afternoon, and decided to indulge myself in a day of beauty: 1.5 hr massage and 1.5 hr facial. Total cost = $30. The previous day, I had passed the rather posh-looking spa as I walked home from the mall. I went in and booked the Thursday afternoon appointment.

Why not. I deserved it.

It was a very nice place… very “Elizabeth Arden Red Door”… and to allay your fears now, it wasn’t one of those seedy bang-bang-happy-ending type places ;-)

The facial was great. Not much to say there.

The massage was very intense. I told the masseuse that I enjoyed deep tissue massage and that I had a high threshold for pain. She really went to town on me, and it was fine.

Then she got to my upper back and shoulders… they were as solid as granite. I do have to admit that she really tried to get me to relax, but somehow I just couldn’t do it. There was a part of me that still “hung on”… so hard to explain. I just couldn’t let go and relax.

She REALLY dug into the muscles and tissues of my upper back and shoulders. I wanted to tell her that she’d need a meat tenderizer to relieve those muscles, but somehow I don’t think that she’d get the joke.

Anyway, she made a valiant effort of getting me to relax. She really tried to work out all of the knots and tight muscles in my back. I felt badly… as if I weren’t cooperating. As if I intentionally frustrated and resisted her. Oh well, she tried her best.

Day 19 - D-Day (Discharge Day)

Its 07:10... I had an excellent night's sleep, thanks to ambien... slept right through any karoke-ing and roosters crowing. I should have thought about using the stuff more regularly.

Today is the big day. Jojo and Tess should be here around 11:00 (at which point I'll have checked-out from the hotel) and we'll go to the hospital to get mom discharged.

I have everything ready. I got her scripts filled for a one month's supply: $250+ out-of-pocket for just the orals (thorazine, epival, and seroquel.) Not bad when you think about how much it could be in the US. Everything here in the Philippines is a cash-only basis. Medicare doesn't cover healthcare costs outside of the US. Ironically, its cheaper to pay for her care on a cash-only basis here in the Philippines than to have her treated in the US under Medicare.

The doctor started her on Risperdal... a long-lasting injection that is administered every 2+ weeks. This drug is not available in Cabanatuan, so I cut a deal with the doctor and the med rep (thanks Janssen Pharmaceuticals) and purchased the drug in bulk. She'll have enough to last her for the next 3 months...another good deal. Only cost me $500. This morning, I have to run around and search for a cooler and some ice... the drug needs to be refrigerated for the 4-hour trip back to the province. Once back in Cabanatuan, the drug will be refrigerated at home, and then provided to the new doc for each scheduled injection. (Luckily one of mom's compulsive purchases was a full-sized refrigerator which she keeps in her bedroom. Yes, weird, but its actually coming in handy.)

Once we get to the hospital, it will be a race between buildings... go to the doctor's office and pay off the remaining professional fees and cost for the Risperdal. Afterwards, off to the accounting office to pay off the hospital. Then, we can go to the Community Center to have mom discharged.

So within the span of a couple of hours, I'll have dropped somewhere around $1K. All things considered... not bad. I keep it in perspective. She's worth it. Plus, the same cost of care in the US would have been astronomical. I guess my grad degree in healthcare policy is paying off.
_______________________________

Mom was in good spirits for yesterday's visit. She had accumulated a lot of clothes and sundries during her admission to the hospital, so I brought my prized Victorinox gym bag for her to use in packing her goods. She fell in love with the bag and asked if she should keep it... I paused... then said, "sure.... the shoulder strap is in the hotel... I'll bring it tomorrow."

(For those who know me closely, I go through my own purchasing fixations... shoes, electronics, stuff... The bag was one of those fixations. At some point in the past year, I HAD to have the Victorinox gym bag; no other gym bag could compare to it. So, you could imagine how I hesitated to give it to her... but I quickly got over myself ;-) It was worth seeing her smile, and I can easily get a gym bag on eBay.)

We were all smiles and laughs on this visit. I asked her if she would mind if I went to Boracay on my last week in the Philippines. I told her that I needed to go relax somewhere. She said it was ok, and actually asked one of the “bakla” (gay) male nurses if he wanted to go swimming with me at the beach. I think that was her schizophrenic way of setting me up and making sure I was happy. The nurse and I just looked at each other, shook our heads and rolled our eyes… we both knew that she meant well.

The BIGGEST surprise of this visit: my mom asked me how my dad was doing. Was he married? Is he ok?

My jaw dropped, but I kept my game face.

(In March of 1983 (I remember it was the night after Palm Sunday) in the early hours of the morning, my mom stabbed my dad in his sleep. She was psychotic. I was only 9 years old. I was in the next room and heard everything. He was able to force her out of her bedroom, lock the door, and call the police.

I remember him screaming. I remember me screaming. I remember the sounds of the ruckus and fighting and then a slamming of the door. Then silence.

I emerged from my bedroom and saw my mom in the hallway leaning against the wall in her pink robe with arms crossed in front of her, looking down at the floor. She asked me to go to the kitchen to get her a Coke.

The rest is a blur of police, paramedics, an ambulance, flashing lights. Lots of activity in our house. I don’t know exactly what I did… I must have just watched it all like a movie. I think that I remember crying, trying to sort out what had happened… but at the same time, I knew what she had done.

Funny… even as a 9 year old, I knew that my mom was crazy.)

I told my mom that he was doing very well… still living in the same house in Bensalem. Not married. Doing very well.

“I’ll let him know that you asked about him. He gave me money for this trip because he still cares about you and your welfare. He wants to make sure that you’re ok.”

I could see her taking the information and processing it.

She always ended our visits the same way. She’d look at my watch and ask me, “what time is it?” I’d tell her the time.

“Ok, you better go now so you can .”

It was always something different. I don’t remember what it was this time. How funny.

She walked me to the doors.

I gave her a kiss and a hug, and said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

And In Other News from the Philippines...

My dad gave me some weird cautionary advice before I left for the Philippines. "Be careful in Nueva Ecija... there is some anti-American sentiment and guerilla activity around there..."

Parents inherently want their kids to be safe. I took his advice as parental paranoia, and reassured him that I'd be safe and keep an eye out. (Yes, I'm sure I rolled my eyes over the phone at some point...)

Apparently, there HAS been this resurgence of guerilla activity in Nueva Ecija. My cousin Sally works for the governor's public affairs office, and she told me that the New People's Army (NPA) have been very active in the rural areas of the province.



The NPA were known as an old-school communist guerilla group back in the 1970s and 80s. In the 1990s, they reached some kind of truce with the government and effectively disbanded... no longer a threat to the political stability of the country.

Apparently, they've made quite a comeback as more of a mafia. They've been extorting, kidnapping, terrorizing in the rural areas of the province. Sally reassured me that they stuck to specific areas (not Cabanatuan), targeted rich land-owners, and that the Philippine Army has been dispatched to the outlying areas to deal with the problem.

I don't feel particularly threatened (I remember I cynically told my dad that, "I refuse to live my life in fear..."). I just found it peculiar that the NPA were active again, especially since Communism was dead. Whenever I thought of terrorist guerillas in the Philippines, I would think of the Abu Sayyaf down in the southern Philippines... a place far far away.

The moral of the story: Father knows best. :-)
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Speaking of safety in the provinces... being a public official seems to be a very dangerous job around Nueva Ecija these days. Check it:

728th leftist leader slain in Nueva Ecija

Another day in the life in the provinces.....

Bye Bye Boracay

I had hoped to sneak away at some point to get some real R&R at Boracay, one of the world's famous beaches. It has long stretches of white sandy beaches, warm blue water, lots of swimming, diving, surfing... one of those castaway type locations where you lounge in a hammock and sip out of a coconut.

Well, it ain't gonna happen on this trip.

Boracay is located in the Visayas, in the Central Philippines. An oil tanker went down off the coast of Panay (the island where Boracay is located.) Oil has reached the shores of Panay though not in the immediate area of Boracay. News reports have discouraged tourists from going into the water :-(

Ugh.

I've been corresponding with a kite surfing school in Boracay, and am waiting to hear about conditions, but I think that the writing is on the wall. Maybe its a sign from above.

Oh well, one less thing to worry about on my to-do list as I'd been up in the air about when/if I'd go to Boracay. Next time...!

In the meanwhile, I'll crunch away on the Internet to find interesting things to do in Cabanatuan.

Day 18 - How Not to Wake Up

I have it figured out now. The stupid karaoke bar in the alley behind my hotel starts up around midnight... and goes until 3 or 4 am.

Tonight was exceptionally horrible.

I was roused from my sleep by the warblings of a Celine Dion wanna-be. One power ballad after another.... this b*tch went through all of Celine's greatest hits, from "The Power of Love" to "Its All Coming Back to Me" to "Because You Loved Me." She really poured her f**king heart and soul into each song. Unfortunately, she did it terribly. It reminded me of the American Idol out-takes.

To coin a phrase from Chappelle's Show, do I need to choke a b*tch?

I got out of bed, opened the shudders and glared down into the alley. The audience sat in the cafe TRANSFIXED. Were they horridly mesmorized by this screeching siren? Did they think that she was actually good?

Who knows.
___________________________

Its early... 05:20. I'm waiting for the rooster to start crowing.

Yesterday morning, a f**king rooster started crowing for what seemed like an eternity at sunrise. This didn't occur on previous hotel stays.

I thought to myself, "I'm in the middle of Manila... why the f**k is there rooster crowing?!" I'd expect something like this in the province. Not in the middle of a major urban city.

Then I thought to myself, "I am in Manila... its probably on this afternoon's menu..."

Go figure.

(The rooster did end up crowing after I finished writing my blogs... and continued to crow from 05:30 until I left my hotel room at 08:00....)

Day 17 - As Good As It Gets

I told mom during today's visit that she'd be discharged from the hospital on Saturday and that I'd bring her back to CC. She was extremely relieved at this (well, as relieved as she could possibly show.)

I did something pretty bold. We sat at a table side-by-side. I turned to her, touched her arm and said, "I want to share something with you."

"What is it?"

"I'm sick."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sick like you're sick." (Ok, maybe a stretch of the truth. I'm not schizophrenic, but I was diagnosed and treated for serious depression years ago.)

I opened up my bag and pulled out my pill case that holds my week's worth of meds. I showed them to her and said, "This is my medicine, and this is what I take everyday so I don't become depressed."

She was curious. There were so many capsules, so many tablets, so many different colors... She pointed to each drug, segregated in their little sections, and asked their names.

"What's this...?"

"Prozac."

"What's this?"

"Wellbutrin."

"What's this?"

"Effexor."

"What's this?"

"Synthroid."

"What's this?"

"Clonopin."

She paused and looked at the pillcase. I could tell that she was processing this information in her mind.

I told her that I need her to take her medicine everyday. I can't stand to see her in the hospital. I take my medicine so I don't have to go to the hospital. Could she do the same?

Again, she just sat and absorbed. Then she said, "Ok. You're not sick like I'm sick. I'm sick because I had a lot of people around me and then there was nobody. They were all gone."

It was then that I realized that she was lonely. She had been abandoned. In the past couple of years, she's experienced a lot of loss. Her brother, sister, and sister-in-law all died last year. My sister had left the Philippines to permanently move to the States in 2000. Her husband and child followed later in 2003.

And now my mom was alone.

I promised her that I would visit her every year. "Would you like that?"

"Yes."

And she smiled. I patted her arm reassuringly.

The rest of our time today was really good. I came to a realization: she could only do/process one thing at a time. When they brought out her lunch, I let her eat it in silence and told her that I'd just read my book until she was finished. When we talk, I ask her very deliberate yes/no easy-type questions that don't require a lot of thought or processing. I ask her things one at a time instead of bombarding her with various topics, questions, issues. I keep our conversation as simple and linear as possible. It works.

Towards the end of visiting hours, one of the other patients sitting a few tables down from us started screaming at the top of his lungs. My mom and I just watched him. I turned to her and said, "I really have to get you out of this place..."

She smiled and chuckled.

Cool. Some emotion.

TTYL
Ed

More Philippines Pics - Cabanatuan City

Here are some pics that I took on my recent time in Cabanatuan. Just click on the link below and click "View Slideshow":

More Philippines Pics

Enjoy!
Ed

Day 16 - Halfway There?

Here I sit, in a Gloria Jeans Coffee House in Robinsons Center Mall back in MNL. I like this coffeeshop in particular bc there is a glassed-off private smoking room and there is wireless internet. Back to civilization (CC wasn't so bad.)

Another good day today. Jojo, Tess, Jomar (our child-tag-along), and I left CC for MNL to see mom and return me to my hotel. The ride was lovely as ever. A single paved concrete road cut through the rice fields, towns, and barrios. We had to take a detour at one point because the road was flooded by the adjacent rice field (did I mention it was rainy season?) Jojo is a good driver; he expertly swerved past potholes, passed jeepneys, tricycles, trucks, buses, water buffalo, navigated the roadways and highway... We arrived at the hospital in expected time: 4 hours to travel 60 miles.

I was in somewhat of a rush: it was noon, visiting hours were up at 13:00, and Dr. R's hours were until 13:30. A little bit of a crunch but not a problem. The traffic leading up to the hospital was bumper to bumper, and with onlly one block to go, I told Tess that we should get out and walk the rest of the way. Agreed.

From outside the locked double door, I rang the bell. I could hear a male patient screaming at the top of his lungs. Great way to break in Tess as the new official "caregiver." The nurse let us into the ward, and I could see mom across the room. She could see me. We made eye contact and she waved us over to her table.

We embraced and had a seat at the table as the other patients ate lunch. The conversation was quick. I wanted to touch base with her so I could still catch Dr. R. I quickly briefed her on my trip to CC and told her about Dr. B, a new psychiatrist who agreed to treat her in CC. She was very agreeable to switching doctors.

She had this sadness in her eyes. I could really tell that she wanted to go home. I could tell that she didn't like being in the Community Center at UST. This was now well into Week 6 of her treatment. (In retrospect, I can't believe that she spent 4 months in the hospital last year.) I could tell that she looked to me to get her out of there. I really want to get her discharged, but only when the doctor gave the ok. I just haven't had that conversation yet... it would take place next.

I told her that I would meet with Dr. R after our visit and talk to him abt a discharge time. She asked that we go talk to him now. This wasn't like the last time when she kicked me out of the ward. She really wanted to speed up the discharge process and she knew that each minute spent in the ward was one less minute with Dr. R.

Ok. Tess and I got up to leave; mom escorted us to the doors. I looked at her and gave her a hug of reassurance.

I'd rescue her. I'd save her. Don't worry. I'll take care of things.

My last words to her were, "if I don't see you again today, I'll be back tomorrow..."

"Ok."

So weird. So much emoting going on... but it was all unspoken. That's just the way that it is between us, but its ok. Even at this moment, it pains me to remember that look of sadness and desperation in her eyes. But you know, its a good thing. In the past, she was a zombie with no emotive expression, no affect. Now, I felt something. Sadness, anger, happiness, joy, anything... if she exhibited some kind of affect, then this is progress.

Tess and I met with Dr. R. I really want Tess to become an active "case manager" and be involved as much as possible with mom's care. We had a great meeting, and Dr. R agreed that mom was ready to be discharged. We decided upon Saturday. Jojo and Tess would return to MNL on Saturday to bring us home to Cabanatuan. At least this would give the rest of the family the next few days to prepare (mentally and uh, domestically - clean her room) for mom's arrival.

Long story short, I returned to my hotel room and just "deflated". This seems to be a recurring feeling... relief. I do realize that this is just another beginning of more to come.

I'll spend the next couple of days visiting with mom and "conditioning" her... mentally prepare for what's in store in Cabanatuan, what's expected (don't want to put any stress or pressure on her though), and just continue to build trust.

I was right... I am going back to Cabanatuan...

Day 15 - Final Day in Cabanatuan

Wow. What a whirlwind 24 hours.

I stayed one extra day in CC by chance, and I'm glad that I did. My original plan was to return to MNL today (Tuesday), but my aunt needed to come to MNL as well and asked that I wait til Wed so that we could go together.

In the past 24 hours I've accomplished the following:

• Found a local psychiatrist who will take mom on as a new patient. Coincidentally, the new doc's mentor in med school was mom's current psychiatrist. That will make continuum of care a hell of a lot easier.
• Officially hired Ate Tess as mom's full-time care-giver. She's a cousin who helped watch over my nephew Ethan and ran our family household here in CC, so we are very close. Plus she's had experience seeing my mom at her worst and knows what to expect and how to manage it. I've given her carte blanche to manage mom's condition, act on her behalf, and interact with the doctor. I really trust her.
• Got a handle on mom's finances, bills, property and other administrivia. Things will be alright.

Each of these tasks required so much time and emotional energy. When I got home this afternoon, I just plopped into bed with a big sigh of relief. I almost wanted to cry as all of the pieces rapidly came together, but I realize that this is just the beginning. I'm only half-way through this trip.

Tomorrow, Jojo will drive Tess and I to MNL. Our first stop is the hospital. I meet with Dr. R (mom's current psych) to review her case history (thankfully, he has been her long-time psychiatrist so her file is probably as thick as a Bible), and begin the process of transferring all of the nitty gritty details to Dr. B in Cabanatuan. Also, we'll discuss the time frame for discharging mom. I honestly don't know when this will happen. My fear is discharging her too soon. I'll see what he has to say.

I'll also need to get my mom's buy-in to transfer to the new psychiatrist and to allow Tess to manage her care. I'm still thinking about how to approach this conversation. Its tough enough to negotiate with people when they are sane. Imagine trying to do so with a schizophrenic? I want to allow mom to have her autonomy (stay secluded in her room, go sequester herself in the Lexber house, go shop for things she will never use), on the condition that she remain compliant with her meds (fingers crossed), allow Tess to give mom her meds (and watch) at every dosing, and allow Tess to escort her to her bi-weekly check-ups/risperdal injections at the doctor's office here in CC.

On one hand, I know that one needs to be forceful. At points in time, mom will need to be treated like a child who refuses to take her medicine. I hope that most of the time, she'll just go along because its the easiest route.

When in doubt, there is always the threat of re-institutionalizing her. I know she doesn't like it. She's acknowledged that much to me already. I just don't find it to be productive to accomplish something by instilling fear in someone. It just makes things worse. Besides, its been proven time and again with my mom that it just doesn't work. She'll be discharged and then just relapse again months later.

My family here in CC have been extremely supportive. They are relieved to see me step up to the plate and play a proactive role in mom's care instead of passing the buck. They have their own lives and problems to deal with... our store is on its last legs and we'll close it down in the next year. My Lola just turned 96 and has a full-time caregiver by her side 24/7. My Auntie Adel isn't the best model of health either with her hypertension.

This afternoon, my aunt told me that she doesn't need to go to MNL anymore. I honestly could have left this morning. If I did leave, I wouldn't have accomplished everything that I did today. I'm glad that I stayed. Things just seem to work in mysterious ways.

I have a very very strong feeling that I will be back in CC before the end of this trip.

As a total aside, I love the show Arrested Development. In many of the episodes, the main character Michael mutters to himself "family first..." whenever he has to save his family from disaster. I can really resonate with that at this point.

Day 13 - Visiting Lexber

JoJo and Tess took me to my mom's place in Lexber to see how things were going there. Its actually a cute little place in the middle of no where (see pics.) Its a subdivision that is built in the middle of a huge rice field.

It had that dank smell... you could tell that no one had been there for awhile. There were newspapers on the table from 2004, there was dust everywhere, and it just felt empty, yet cluttered. Really cluttered. Upstairs were stacks of shoeboxes with brand new unworn shoes (and you wonder where I get the shoe-bug from...) In her closet were many beautiful blouses and shirts with the tags still on them. Some boxes contained stacks of VCDs and CDs still in their original wrapping. Unwatched. Untouched. Weird.

I also noticed this weird stack of little red baskets. I picked up one of the baskets, flipped it over and read the label "Jollibee" on the bottom. So now I could add "collecting fast-food baskets" to the list of mom's compulsions. You do have to laugh at these kinds of things.

Mom's typical day consisted of spending most of the day at her house alone in Lexber. What she did there was beyond any of us. I could surmise that she probably just slept and watched cable TV. Then, she would return to the house in Cabanatuan at night to sleep in her bedroom. I kidded around to the others that the Lexber house was mom's clubhouse. Her retreat. Her treehouse. I could empathize with that, I suppose. No harm done.

JoJo and his son Mackie, fixed the leaky sink in the comfort room. Tess swept the floors and and tables for dust, dirt, cobwebs. I went through mom's closets to pick out clothes to bring to her at the hospital.

So now I knew where mom hung out all the time. I felt content.

We returned to the house in Cabanatuan; my aunt wanted to go to the capital city of Palayan for the afternoon. I wasn't really in the mood for sight-seeing or walking around. I had a headache and it was siesta time. So, I snuck away from everyone else and took a nap in the AC'd comfort of my guest room.

I woke up later in the afternoon feeling a little hungry, so I took a tricycle to Megacenter, another mall in town. I remembered that there was a cybercafe there, found it, and did the email thing. Then I hit the food court for some diniguan (go ahead an wiki/google the term), some weird bitter veggie, and rice (of course.)

I felt full afterwards and decided to walkto the tindahan (family bookstore.) I seemed to lose my bearings and found myself closer to the house, so I just wound up walking home. I think I was covered with a layer of dust and soot after my "refreshing walk." There were tons of tricycles, mopeds, and jeepneys out and about. You take your life into your own hands when walking. There really aren't any set of "be-kind-to-pedestrian"-type rules.

So I'm going to settle in for the evening. I'm going to pop in V for Vendetta and then hit the sack.

TTYL!
Ed

Day 12 - Fiesta Wrap-Up

The fiesta was really neat. When I left off at my last blog entry, guests started arriving. Lots of them.

My Lola isn't very mobile, so she spent all of her time in her bedroom while guests came in to give their wishes and blessings. There was a small altar in the corner of the room with different dishes of filipino food, three white candles, and a large cross.

The first group of visitors led a prayer vigil for Lola... all older ladies from the barrio. It was v interesting to observe; the women placed their hankies on top of their heads and began chanting/praying in tagalog. There were parts of the ceremony where you'd sit, stand, kneel... lots of chanting and responding. And crying as well. It felt like a very old filipino-catholic tradition... the first time I had ever seen it. At the end we all went up to Lola, who sat in a chair the entire time, and blessed her. She gave me a very warm hug and embrace. I'm glad that she recognized me.

I always feel so bad when I'm with her... I don't speak tagalog, so I can't converse with her other then the simple "hello", "good morning", "good afternoon", etc... I wasn't sure if she was aware of the fact that her daughter, my mom, was in the mental ward of UST. I wanted to communicate to Lola that I was taking care of my mom so she wouldn't have to worry. I hope that my aunts have conveyed that to her.

The day was very long... lots of eating, lots of guests. It was overwhelming for me, and I just stayed out of the way in a corner. Occassionally I would retreat to the guest room and either read or lie down. Again, it was soooo hot, so I'd alternate between sitting in AC and sitting in front of a fan with the other guests.

I met a lot of people who knew me, but I didn't know them. One woman asked what I was doing here on this visit, so I told her that I was visiting my mom at UST. She asked what was wrong with her, and I evaded the question. I just said that mom was sick, but getting better. I wasn't sure who did/didn't know that mom was "crazy", and I wasn't sure if it was something that my family would discuss with outsiders. So, I kept my mouth shut for most of the afternoon.

I met a cousin, Sally, who was very excited to see me. When she walked in, she recognized me from pictures instantly and chatted away. She knew my mom's story and knew Janice. I was just really surprised at the number of people who knew me, but I had no idea who they were.
Have you every been to a party where you knew absolutely no one, and you weren't really into the party? That was how I felt for most of the day. Kinda trapped. Bored. I played games on my PDA to pass the time and avoid uncomfortable conversations with people who had limited knowledge of English. I've always felt bad that I didn't know Tagalog so well. Its really limited my interactions with people here, and its always been the same story in the past as well.

After hours and hours of guests, I was finally able to get away from the house. I hopped in a tricycle and headed to the mall. I had a bunch of things to do... reload my SIM card (I ran out of minutes), buy a couple of shirts since I underpacked for this weekend, and I picked up a couple of DVDs (V for Vendetta and Syriana.) They were only $10 USD and I could use the entertainment. I've already plowed through the Surviving Schizophrenia book and the Lonely Planet Philippines guide. I left my other books back in MNL, not thinking that I'd finish the SS book so quickly.

Late in the afternoon, I met Serena. I guess that she helped my mom a lot... her english was pretty limited, so we had my cousin JoJo act as the intermediary. She asked if she could come with me on Tuesday to see my mom. I could tell that she missed my mom; she kept on emphasizing how close they were, and she had a very sad look in her eye. So, on Tuesday, Jojo will drive us all back to MNL and we will do a visit with mom.

Nothing planned for the next couple of days. I need to go to Lexber tomorrow to check on mom's house and see if anything needs to be repaired. Then on Monday, my aunt and I will go to the bank to figure out mom's finances. At some point I'll also visit our family bookstore.

I miss the freedom to wander around in MNL. There really isn't much to do around here and I couldn't find an internet cafe at the mall!

Day 12 - I Hate the Comfort Room

So here I am in Cabanauan City, in the province of Nueva Ecija, some 100km northeast of MNL. This is the home province of my mom and I have tons of family here. My cousin JoJo and his son Lucky picked me up yesterday for the three hour drive up to CC.

Its only 10am and I am drenched in sweat. The humidity is heavy and oppressive. It wraps you like a towel sopping wet with hot water. Thank God for fans. I've parked myself in the sitting room in front of an industrial-sized floor fan.

There is a lot of hustle and bustle going on in preparation for Lola's 96th birthday. I bid her a "magandang umaga, po" (good morning - in proper form) when I cut through her room to use her bathroom for a shower.

The kitchen is packed with various aunts and cousins who I barely recognize. (Come to think of it, I am the only male in the household at the moment.) They are all cooking tons and tons of yummy filipino food for today's festivities. At the moment it feels like steambath in there. I dart quickly in and out to fill my water bottle. Today's celebration is going to be an all-afternoon fiesta with loads of people stopping by to pay their hommage to the matriarch. As one aunt put it, "they are coming from the barrio...." Not sure what that means, but I think that its in reference to our farms out in the country.

My Auntie Margie is here from Canada for the month. Auntie Adel is the full-time head of household. She's always been my favorite aunt; she bought me my first world globe when I was 8 years old. From there I became a geography and travel freak. She also runs our family bookstore. We sell textbooks for the local colleges, stationary, and school supplies.
My first night I was kind of freaked out because I had to use the "comfort room" to pee.

I don't like the comfort room. Its hardly comforting.

Imagine a tiled room, probably 4d'x5w'x10' h. In the center is a toilet with no lid on it. Next to it is a bucket and a small pail. There is a sink with one tap, but it is currently occupied with a large flower pot with a massive candle. To the left of the toilet is a shower head and a spigot. No hot water. When you flip the wall switch, a fluorescent light intermittently goes on/off, as if its on its last legs. Occasionally you will catch site of a salamander on the wall or ceiling. Sometimes you will see a monsterously large cockroach. You learn to just go with it.

Anyways, once you do your "number 1" you fill up the bucket with water from the spigot, and pour it into the bowl to flush it. I refuse to do a "number 2" in there. As I'veh been drinking loads of water, I find myself going to the CR quite often.

This morning when it came to shower time, I asked my aunt where I could shower (praying that I could use my Lola's bathroom which is what we would perceive as a normal bathroom with a bathtub, shower, proper toilet (with toilet paper), and a vanity with sink.) Of course, I could use Lola's bathroom.

Whew.

I think that there is some unsaid class distinction when it comes to who-uses-what bathroom. The WC is for the help. "First family" members use Lola's bathroom.

I've had some good talks with my aunts about my mom; provided them with an update of her status. The risperidol long-lasting injection can take anywhere between 4-8 treatments for it to "kick-in." Mom is currently on number 3. I think that I want to keep her in the hospital until she's 1) titrated off of her old meds, and 2) shows a positive response to the risperidol. This could mean another couple of months in the hospital. I tossed this idea past my aunts... they seemed to receive the idea, but didn't really respond to me or provide feedback.

I think that I will see if Dr.Ranoa (mom's psychiatrist) can recommend a local psychiatrist in Cabanatuan. Ideally, she will respond well to the current new treatment. The local psychiatrist or doctor can provide the bi-weekly injections. It may be easier for her to remain compliant with her treatment if all treatment was kept locally instead of having to hike it down to MNL each time. If you think about it, its akin to travelling from Fairfax to Philly every other week for an injection.

More later... Ed