Faith Self Check Test

Is there a way we can measure our faith? Don’t you just wish that there’s a yardstick-of some kind like a Faith Self Check Test gadget similar to home pregnancy test that you can buy over the counter that can give you signals where your faith stands?

Wouldn’t it be more interesting to see numerical indicators such as 5- most stable; 4- very strong and stable; 3- average; 2 -below average and wavering and 1- lack of faith on a Faith Self Check Scale?
Imagine this, if you want to know your latest faith score, it’s simple, just put your thumb onto it, then it will outright tell you “Congratulations, your faith today is 5- most stable”. On the other hand, it may be dreading to see a blinking red light with a high pitch beeping tone that complements a screen message saying “Warning, your faith today is 2- below average,sorry.”

Unfortunately, no matter how high tech it may sound, the truth is, it doesn’t work that way. The real measurement of our faith can not be quantified in any form even if assumingly there’s an existing faith self check test gadget. Our faith is put to a test NOT when life is smooth sailing and devoid of any problems. But, when things go wrong in our lives, that’s when we usually cling to our faith.
If you come to think of it, truthfully, how often do we knock on heaven’s door pushing our prayers in when our marriage is at its best or our careers at its peak or during moments when we enjoy living in luxury.
Realistically, what usually happens is that we only come to Him during times when we need Him.

Recently, God shook my faith up in a very special way. Three weeks ago, a horrifying news about mom’s serious condition reached me. My mother had a massive right brain attack. She got operated and stayed at the Neuro Critical Care Unit.
I hurriedly packed my bags and flew more than six thousand miles away while being on pins and needles. The thought of what I was going to see at the hospital petrified me.

My imagination ran wild of the worse case scenario during my 20 hour flight. As soon as I entered the room, my blood ran cold when I saw my mom’s shaved head with dark black stitches on the left side of the head, tubes plugged in her nose and mouth (NGT and respirator.) Her eyes barely opened, left side of the body is paralyzed and worse, her voice was hardly audible with common stroke patient’s slur.
I broke out in cold sweat as I uttered my first greetings “Mom it’s me. I’m home now.” I knew she was listening to my voice even if her eyes were closed. I saw an indescribable peace on her face.

Spending two weeks watching mom attending to her personal needs at the Neuro Critical Care Unit was like struggling in a boot camp. No chance to relax or to doze off since her machines kept on beeping one after another. And once it set off (on an average three times a day), I always got jolted from deep slumber-woke up disoriented, nervous and terrified that I might suddenly witness a Grey’s Anatomy's patient resuscitating scenes.

In other words, aside from deep dark eye circles, a spaced- out - blank stares of a sleep deprived person did not only make me looked like a living zombie but a certified boot camp survivor. Well at least, it’s never too late to discover something new about oneself.

At the end of the 2nd week at the Neuro Critical Care Unit, we were anxiously anticipating for the extubation, the removal of the endotracheal tube from the larynx. My siblings and I prayed as hard as we could for the success of the process since doctors forewarned us that in the event that extubation won’t work, they’d be forced to perform a tracheostomy a procedure that involves opening a hole into the trachea with a tube. Blessedly, mom successfully got away sans tracheostomy. Thank God!
As soon as docs were sure that she was out of the woods, she was transferred straight away in a regular room. That was when my heart was put in place. While in the room, mom slowly showed eye opening, started uttering phrases and sentences (still with a slur though) but sounding a little bit clearer than before.
Aggressive therapies especially with Physical Therapy and Occupational Therapy pushed her to put a little effort to move the right part of her body since therapists are still working on the left- the paralyzed side.

It’s amazing how God puts His hand to heal the damaged part of her body slowly but surely. He led us to take mom to the right hospital where He wanted us to be. He anointed the hands of the medical doctors and nursing staff who not only displayed professionalism par excellence but genuinely showed tender loving care on top of everything.

Though mom’s still needs a complete therapy work out and a great deal of time to heal. For sure, she’ll be sitting on a wheelchair for quite some time, but certainly not forever. My mom’s spirit was not crashed but renewed. Her faith soars like an eagle reaching sky high inspite of her condition.

I was humbled and blessed by her unwavering faith. Tomorrow, November 1st, is her 75th birthday. Finally, doctors scheduled her to be discharged from the hospital- a precious gift as the beginning of a new life.

A Promise of a Rainbow

Something good happened in my life these past few days. My mom was able to grip doctor’s hand during a post-operation test and was able to write words on a piece of paper in her attempt to communicate- a break though that instead of making me jump off my seat made me cry a bucket of tears.

Last Sunday, I was awaken up with a text message from my sister that my mom was being rushed to a hospital due to a suspected stroke. I blinked several times to re-read the message wishing it was a part of my dream. But as I immediately picked up the phone and spoke to my sister, I could hear a cacophony of ambulance’s high pitch siren and panic stricken human voices on the background. I struggled to hear my sister’s voice to confirm that it wasn’t a dream. And yes, I was awake. It was for real.

Mom had a massive brain stroke. As I was told, the blood clot on her right brain left her left side of the body paralyzed and unable to control drooling which makes swallowing a tedious task for her. Few days ago, she had a brain surgery to drain the blood clot and was sedated for three days to give her worn out 74 year old body to rest while attached to a respirator.

This week was just like a whirlpool-everything span so swiftly and I didn’t even have the time to sigh and rethink what went along the way. In a matter of days, I was able to file a leave of absence from work, coordinate with boss and co-teachers about work that I’ll be leaving behind for 3 weeks; went to the bank and book a flight back home.

I can vividly remember that two Sundays ago, we were on the phone talking about her forthcoming trip to Singapore with my siblings. Boy, she was so excited. I could feel her beaming on the other side of the line. She sounded like a child going to a field trip for the first time. And it made me feel so content to hear her ecstatic towards a trip that she has been dreaming about. Though it’s not her first time in Singapore, but the thought of flying gives her a sudden adrenalin rush. Hearing her laughter on the phone while I’m six thousand miles away from home is indescribable. It still reverberates in mind as I think about her.

Now with my mom’s unimaginable situation, and where she is at the moment, it makes me ponder how we’re dependent on God’s grace holding on to see a glimmer of hope and a promise of a rainbow as signs of assurance that everything is going to be all right. True enough, God is at work all the time. He makes miracles in small mysterious ways. We only have to direct our eyes and look for God’s clues that say “Hey, go and look. I sent these from heaven for you.”

Blessedly, I spotted off hand that good wishes and strong prayer support from online and personal friends, encouragements from colleagues at work and solid family members taking care of mom in earnest are angels sent from heaven.

In a book, The Alchemist, it says “When each day is the same as the next, it’s because people fail to recognize the good things that happen in their lives every day that the sun rises.” Today, I got a news from my sister that mom was able to write “I love my children very very much” using her right hand. If that isn’t good enough for a news, I don’t know what else is. How about you? Did you look closer enough for God’s blessing in your life today?

Turn your Tropical Island Trip Upside Down

My family name clearly doesn’t sound Spanish or much less a native Filipino surname. Since I’m carrying my husband’s Croatian surname with a soft ch represented by an accented c on top of the letter, my Filipino friends and even immigration officers show fondness in pronouncing my strange married name. After all those aaahhh-so-that’s-how-you-pronounce-it reactions, I somehow nurture a funny feeling of false joy with the fact that I’ve given a tongue twisting challenge to curious readers of my foreign sounding name.

As a Filipino, who travels to the Philippines yearly for my summer holiday, the pride to showcase my country’s national traditions, uniqueness of culture, picturesque places, people’s warm heartedness and hospitality made me feel like an Oscar multi-awarded actor brandishing a shelf full of Oscar statues in my own home.

More than all of these, the most interesting part of my husband’s tourism adventure was to have a feel of the rhythm of life in a tropical country. His excitement and enthusiasm to travel six thousand miles away from home to discover an interesting place in Asia was my motivating factor to book my trip six months in advance and to endure the bureaucratic tra-la-la that goes together with fixing of my traveling papers three months before August departure date.

Although my initial goal was to give him a meaningful first hand experience from riding tricycle, malling ( at the Mall of Asia which is ten times the size of a regular mall in Croatia, seriously), trekking in Tagaytay, revisiting history in Intramuros and bar hopping at night to keep his Manila schedule full. But the hype about Boracay's beauty and splendor proved to be more irresistible than experiencing the horrendous Manila traffic.

Thanks to My Cheap Travel, my professional and reliable travel agents who worked with our itinerary and other travel needs in a breeze ( www.mycheaptravel.yolasite.com)

Boracay, a famous tourist destination is located in the Northwest of Panay Island in Western Visayas region of the Philippines. It takes a one and a half hour plane ride from Manila via Kalibo then continues to a one and half bus ride to Caticlan where you can enjoy the panoramic view and a whiff of fire wood scent typical in a rural Filipino town.

Once you reach the port in Caticlan, the highlight of your adventure will amaze you with an exciting fifteen minute boat ride that gives you the first adrenalin rush of the day. As you get closer to the place, you'll understand why Boracay is a top choice by local and foreign tourists.

On the way to the airport, as we rushed to catch up our early morning flight, we hailed a cab and boy, we're glad that the cab driver didn't contract us for a fixed rate. He used a meter. Yey! But at the airport, I thought I spoke too soon. He suddenly blurted,"
Can you please add some more to the total amount of 150 pesos?" I gaped as I handed him 200 pesos. Do I have a choice but to let him keep the change since catching our flight in a jiffy was more important than to get a 50 pesos change back, right?

Thankfully, we hopped on the plane and went through the nine seater van tough ride on a curvy rocky road plus traditional banca boat splashing adventure before our eyes gazed through the majestic beauty of the island. Sugar powder like white sand, countless coconuts swaying, sky blue sea water beckoned and welcomed us – a little short of saying, enjoy your stay.

It's true. The place has a distinct character like an x factor that you can't simply describe. It's totally captivating. No wonder why a slew of foreigners mostly Europeans decided to settle in Boracay for good.

But hold your horses, for visiting tourists, not all that glitters in Boracay is gold. Or should I say everything you touch in Boracay is gold and pricy. Everytime I strolled with my Caucasian husband in tow, few yards away, a flock of fake watch vendors, water sports agents, locals offering massages, manicure, hair braiding and henna tattoos swarmed and incessantly hard sold us with their services.

So since we stayed for 4 days and 3 nights, and we sashayed on the main pathway on a single day for 10 times, we were also approached with "wanna ride banana boat mam, sir?" 10 times. Same faces, same sales pitch and same questions. If we only had known that low season means more aggressive vendors, we could have worn a shirt that says " No- thank- you. Please- leave- me- alone" shirt print.

But hey, vendors just wanted to earn money. And we wanted rest, peace and quiet and also get our money's worth as vacationists. After all, this was exactly the reason why we crossed continent- to have a taste of a tropical island paradise vacation.

Virtually, prices in the island also vary depending on who's asking. When I asked for a pair of earrings, one night, I was told it was less than 100 Pesos. Then the next morning my husband and I asked again and it suddenly increased to 150 pesos. Ok my eyebrows raised with 150 pesos and so was my blood pressure .

That night, we swung by and lo and behold- the price was right this time, 85 pesos. Thank God for small mercies. But if you want to know the secret- I asked my Caucasian husband not to stay with me while I was buying. If you're married to a foreigner, do this trick and you'll definitely get a good deal. My friend once shared that her Filipino husband, being the chinky eyed fair complexion was mistaken for Japanese. And voila, his price of shirt was different than hers. His was higher and hers was on a regular price, ofcourse.

Inspite of Boracay Island's glaring metamorphosis from an erstwhile quiet island paradise known for its array of homey coconut cottages now turned into to a highly commercialized island with a cluster of five star hotels by the beach, still has its natural charm bonded by its x factor.

Braving the challenges of travelling especially with a Caucasian foreigner in Southeast Asia is inevitable and quite unexpected as a sudden downpour on a hot sunny day. At least now I know. Unpleasant eye-opening travel experiences can happen anytime anywhere- not only limited to Southeast Asia. Take this type of experience with a grain of salt. Let it not hinder you to pursue your next trip at the same place again. On the contrary, it should make you bolder, wiser and learn to bargain for something. If anything else, at least you get to brush up your skills in the art of negotiation.

A View From The Top

This may not look like an ideal landscape view for a commercial poster or calendar pictures. But this sight is a view from the balcony of my work place where I usually take a short breather after a hard day's work with the kids. Amazing. Enchanting especially when you see this unfolds in four different seasons. Gazing at this picturesque scene in the afternoon does not only rejuvenate my energies but I feel that its refreshing effect gleams on my face every now and then.

They say that when the going gets tough the tough gets going. And in order to get going, I guess the survivor instinct in us tells us to hold on even to frivolous activity that can possibly release your stress, tension and anxiety through the day. Five to fifteen minutes of distraction from stressful situations can go a long way. Whatever works.May it be playing Farmville, reading messages on FB, polishing your nails, or in my case basking in the afternoon sun at the balcony with this gorgeous canvass right infront of my eyes is more reinvigorating than a short nap. I don't know if it's about the view or is it about giving yourself the gift of solitude

Whatever it is, thank heavens for small mercies.

I'm In The League

Am I scared of the big 5-0? Well…uhmmm aahhmmm…still contemplating.
Seriously, I hope that nobody would ask that. As you can see, I can't even reply a simple yes or no to a simple question.

The truth is, I'm not just scared but terrified of the big 5-0.

Long time ago, when we say you were turning 50, you were expected to look matronly like, more sophisticated in taste and style of dressing,refined choice of jewelries and must be at the peak of your career and laying the grounds for retirement at 60. In other words, reaching the big 50 before means- fun is over, baby. That's the old picture of a 50 year old woman years ago.

However, in this day and age, images and lifestyles of women have evolved gradually and gracefully. When we think of matured women along the late 40s and pushing 50s, we can now visualize a Demi Moore and Madonna look alike with voluptuous body and toned biceps donning a mini-skirt strutting arm in arm with their dates 10 years their junior.

Now this is when I wish I'm 50.

Thankfully gone are the days when people would give a rocking chair, a crochet thread and hook as presents to a woman of 50. (God forgive me if I'll get that on my 50th birthday. I think hell will break lose.)

I'm lucky that I belong to this generation when growing older- ouch! that hurts.
Ok let's sugarcoat this. I mean growing more matured bespeak of embracing more life's adventures without fear, taking risks without holding back and making giant leaps brazenly in the next stages of life. And if this is so,then what's there not to be proud about being a golden girl?

Oh, but for the record, I just turned 48 today. Two years from now, I will officially be a golden girl. And when that time comes, I think the first thing I'll do is to utter a Samantha Jones dialogue of "Who cares what you are, just enjoy it. Or I will wear whatever and blow whomever I want as long as I can breathe and kneel".

But for now, I'll enjoy being 48 and think about 50 when I get there.

Bitten by a Vampire

Yes, I was. Keep those eyebrows down. Ok, not really… I look like I just had a date with Lestat de Lioncourt, (the French nobleman turned into a vampire in Anne Rice's Interview with a vampire) who had a feast on my neck after starving himself for two weeks.

Pallid. Dizzy.Weak. Shortness of Breath. All of these started on Monday evening.

It was kinda odd why I've been longing for intermittent rest after every activity. I know myself since I've been indulging into physical strenuous activities since September especially after I stopped the disgusting smoking habit. My stamina doing badminton, brisk walking, running, samba and weight training has grown by leaps and bounds. So there's no way that I'll experience shortness of breath just by climbing the school's plight of stairs.

However, last Monday evening, as I was pounding my keyboards, I felt a certain light headedness, weakness and almost turned the palms of my hands including my face as white as paper with my arms and legs numbed. Ok I rationalized or fooled myself a little that maybe it was over-fatigued. I slept over it- hoping that it would be better the next day.

But Tuesday, got worse.

I went to school without my usual perky, vibrant mood ( not intentionally though) and told the kids that "Teacher Joy is a little bit sick. Let's play nicely and go easy on me today..." In other words-no shouting, no rough playing and do what you're told by your teacher!" And that solved the problem.

However, I continued to feel weaker like a burning candle losing its flame. And more pallid too- a transformation from a run-of-the-mill computer white paper to the whitest of the white A4.

Quite disturbing, huh? I thought so too.

So right after work, my husband brought me to ER to find out what's going on. A neurologist first ruled out any signs of brain injury or nerve related issues that caused my dizzy spells. After doing a similar to sobriety test (walking on straight line and do what I do) and look-where-my-finger goes kind of examination, she said everything is alright.

Until the result of my complete blood test results sprang up the monitor and voila, my red blood count is low/ my white blood cells are higher than normal.

In other words, anemia! Now, that kind of put my heart in place why I've been feeling this way. I'm still clueless why this happened but later today, my dear husband and I will continue the ER saga to hear what the gynecologist and internist will have to say.

In the meantime, I'm hunting for Buffy, the vampire slayer to help me finish off the throngs of vampires on earth- I can't be a vampire victim for so long.

Who Needs a Doctor, When You Have a Mother

"Mother, mother I am sick, call the doctor very quick." Remember this old time favorite children's rhyme? Whoever composed this three liner rhyme didn't write the word, mother on the first line by mistake. The children's writer knew in his heart that the first person any child would call in times of trouble is his mother.


From babies to adults, we all feel much better whenever we get mom's sweet words of assurance that "everything is going to be alright" whatever predicament we're in-break up of relationship, financial loss, career failure, passed over for a promotion or even as minute as a loosened button on your favorite blouse, there goes mom. Call her and she's the solution to everything akin to a one-stop shop open 24/7.

You need an accessory to match with your dress? She has it. An instant baby sitter for your baby-she'll do it without hesitation. You miss something on your chocolate mousse cake recipe? She'll tell you not only what's missing but the secret ingredient that you should know to make it the most special chocolate mousse cake ever. When you need to vent out your woes and blues, a tete- a- tete with mom over a soothing cup of tea makes miracle wonders.

Good moms are heaven- sent- angels that are just right behind us waiting for our call. Sometimes, they don't need to be called. They jump in spontaneously when they feel needed. You don't even have to utter a word. They know it. They're moms, remember?

Who needs a doctor, when you have a mother?

When I asked my preschool kids what is mother's day? One Chinese girl who's just learning English retorted "Teacher, Mother's Day is Happy New Year to Mommy." Clearly, New Year's Day is a grandiose celebration for Chinese. And by that she meant "Mother's Day is about celebrating mothers. And indeed…it is.

Happy Mother's Day to you mom and to all moms in the world.