Paunang Pakikipagsapalaran

With all unabashed honesty, I would like to say that I have been waiting for this moment for a very VERY long time. Nope, this isn’t one of those “never-in-my-plans-spur-of-the-moment” sort of thing that I eventually run out of care to even look back to. This is actually a big step in my long-term plan that could ultimately give me the break that I’ve been longing for in this blasted career path that I mistakenly strode. Why, then, did my brains fail me at such a crucial break point?

(Warning: Long blog post. Read at your own risk)

It was then February when I told Kuya Paul Francisco (a former student of mom who is presently working at PGH) that I was finally interested in applying at the Philippine General Hospital. He was ecstatic of course, especially since he was offering the opportunity to help me from the very moment I passed the Nurse Licensure Examination. He told me not to worry, since they won’t question my standing owing to my fairly high board exam rating. The only real obstacle, however, is the Nursing Proficiency Exam.

He went on to warn me about the possible questions that could come out: Enumeration of Nursing Procedures, Essay, and Multiple Choice Questions. Well that’s fair enough, I thought.

“Your exam is on May 4 at 10 o’clock in the morning. Come early and review,” these were his instructions. I could do that, I told myself.

But for the latter part, all I could say is that I couldn’t have been more careless in my entire life.

Being my cocky ol’ self, I completely disregarded my preparations for the upcoming exam. Procrastination became so convenient that I was on the verge of obliviousness, only to be intermittently brought back on track by my mom’s persistent nagging.” Mag-review ka nga!”  She would tell me. My exasperated “All right” would eventually turn to a laid-back “later-na-lang”. Months turned to weeks, and weeks turned to days. Then as the imaginary X’s steadily wrote themselves in the small boxes of our calendars, my anxiety grew.

While everyone greeted the arrival of May with high hopes, I, on the more ambiguous end, felt jumpier than usual. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t hold my jumpiness back. As customary, it was my cue to panic. I was all over the house, infesting the entire place with my ill-ridden nervous energy. My mom was like, “Iyan kasi sinasabi ko sa’yo. Ang tamad tamad mo kasi!” and all I could answer back was, “Mamaaa namaaaaan!!!” Since I had nothing sensible to say for myself, I usually followed it up with a tantrum that could put my baby sister’s to shame. Sheesh. When will I grow up?

May 3— Arrival at Manila

It was a good thing I made sure I had a whole day to relax before the big day itself. Right after checking in to Dominic’s (a high school friend) pad, I stretched out and slept my head off like a baby.

Okay, that was a lie. Two hours of sleep was all that I could afford. After which came a review marathon even I couldn’t think could be possible—given my relatively short attention span. I even had to turn down a dinner date with my high school classmates just because I deemed it to be precious time squandered (Sorry Aea and Bing!).

How agonizing the pangs of procrastination repercussions really are!

May 4— A Series of Unfortunate Events

I woke up at 6:30 AM—rather early for my case… actually, suspiciously early. I kept having nightmares of the possible inauspicious outcomes of the exam that ‘sleep’, usually my only recourse to safety, became a terrible hideaway. As soon as I woke up to reality, I went on to prepare for the worst. But first, I needed to check that the things I needed were all ready.

Pencil—check. Black ball pen—check. Eraser—check. Chichacorn na pasalubong kay kuya Paul—check.

So the only thing left for me to do, then, is to get to Philippine General Hospital before 9AM.

Dominic’s place is at Pinyahan, Quezon City—approximately 12.6 km away from PGH. I didn’t know how to get there from that point of origin, and taking the taxi seemed too luxurious. Since I kind of knew my way along the LRT lines, I figured it’d be better to ask Dom for directions in taking the train. His instructions were pretty clear as I imagined them in my head, or so I thought.

Take a jeep at V. Luna road going to Anonas, and then get down when you see St. Joseph church. Walk for a little further to the right. Until you come to LRT Line 2—Anonas Terminal. Ride until you reach the Recto Terminal, then proceed to LRT Line 1—Doroteo Jose Terminal, where you get a train to Pedro Gil station. Then, boom—Philippine General Hospital.

“No sweat,” I told myself. Later on, however, I realized that this was the greatest lie I ever told… ever.

Thus commenced my long journey towards my dream job. I took the jeep going to Anonas, as Dom instructed me to do, and immediately looked out for any sign of the St. Joseph church that was supposed to be my landmark. I kept peering out the window, waiting for a conspicuous sign that said, “Para sa mga sasakay sa LRT, dito kayo bumaba.” There was none. The trip took longer than expected. Just when I thought I couldn’t keep my head in its twisted position for any longer, something caught my eye.

It was the print on the T-shirt of a woman sitting right across me. It read, “Centro Escolar University—College of Dentistry.” My mind gears suddenly started spinning. CEU is located near the Legarda terminal, so she must be heading off to the Anonas station too, I thought. I forgot about the church that I was supposed to look out for. I fixated my gaze on the woman. Never mind that she thought I was freakishly psycho. I just needed her to give me the directions I needed to get to my destination. The ride felt intolerably long.

It took a while before she finally said para and descended the jeep. I followed her, hoping she would lead me to the terminal. To my disappointment, she proceeded to a store. I was dumbfounded. What’s up with that? My innards were already panicking, and I could literally hear my brains shouting at me in harsh rebuke. “What were you thinking?”

I wasn’t thinking. I just went on to follow the path that the jeep took. I was walking for 20 minutes when I caught sight of LRT tracks. Hurray! If I just followed the tracks, then most likely I will be able to reach the nearest LRT terminal.  But which way to go—left or right? Without a second thought, I took a left turn. Bad move. As I went on, I found that the tracks lead to a dead-end, which means that the terminal is actually located the other way. I looked at my watch. I already wasted 45 minutes. Damn.

Nearing fatigue, I commanded myself “to the rear, march” and found myself going back. It was a long way ahead, and I had to drag myself under the ambivalent skies of polluted Metro Manila. Before long, I saw an LRT terminal. I saw a ray of hope descend upon me while a choir of angels jestingly sang a tonic major chord. Yeah, it’s that early and I was already hallucinating. Despite the early burnout, I hastened my pace just so I could take the next trip going to Recto.

I remember people warning me about the congestion of passengers in a single trip. I downplayed their caveats since I haven’t yet experienced it first-hand. This was the first time that I got to be at the bottleneck of a mob of passengers who literally shove everyone in their path just to get that precious space inside the train. I wasn’t lucky enough to get into the train that came first because I got pushed aside by several old-timers who, surprisingly, had the strength of gym buffs. Their intimidating glares seemed to say “Matanda na ako kaya pagbigyan niyo ako.” As the second train approached, however, I decided not to let anyone get in my way. I primed my elbows and worked my way into the mob, pushing people aside like a pro, before I finally settled for a space that I could as well classify as “intimate” by the looks (and smells) of it.

LRT Line 1 was the same story—if not any worse. There was even one time when I, being at the edge, got pushed by those who were alighting from the train. As I tried to reclaim my post, an irate old man shouted at me, saying “Ano ba? Pwede ba pababain mo muna kami?” At that time, I was already exhausted and sweaty. I wanted to shout back. I wanted to tell him I just got pushed out of the train and that it wasn’t my fault I had to work it to get back to the train. Like, Pwede ba kuya? Cool ka lang?!? But in the end I kept my mouth shut. I found myself in my spot just before the doors closed in on me.

When I finally reached the Pedro Gil terminal, I heaved a sigh of relief. The journey is almost over after all. Just then, however, a familiar feeling set in: anxiety—fear of the unknown. I was dead-tense. I may have brought my complete paraphernalia, but I seem to have lost my brains inside the LRT. I looked at my watch. It was 9:35 AM—25 minutes before the exam starts. No more review time.

Okay, now I’m really dead.

The Exam

I had to wait for Kuya Paul at the PGH lobby for about 15 minutes because when I arrived, he was currently assisting a cardiac catheterization procedure. As per mannerism, my sight navigated the entire anteroom. It was adorned with large-scale paintings that, more or less, captured the entire history of the institution. I found it too over-the-top for a public hospital—but beautiful, nonetheless. When I got tired of examining the paintings, I turned my attention to the passers-by. At first, I started head counting, but after 3 minutes of doing so, I already lost track. That was how fast-paced the lobby was. People with various dramas in life entered and exited. Maybe they had a relative who was in a very critical state. Or maybe they came to have themselves checked up for health concerns. I wouldn’t know, but I could dare to care.

So this is going to be the scene that will be welcoming me every day once I get hired. I shuddered at the thought. I pinched myself for being too presumptuous. Heck, with the way things are going, I might not even be lucky enough to pass the Exam. I scratched my elbows at that. It’s an old Ilocano ritual. I’m going to need all the rituals I could get right now.

When Kuya Paul finally showed up, I was already drenched in sweat. I kept hiding my underarms because there was already a large dark stain that soiled it. Damn Rexona. Where’s the power when you need it?

Before we proceeded, he handed me my exam permit. I held on to it like a child to his lollipop. It was indicated that our examination room was “ER Complex Room 205.” Before I could ask where it was, Kuya Paul was already leading me to a swerving labyrinth of corridors and stairs. I took a mental video clip of the route, as Kuya Paul won’t be able to lead me back after the exam. When we finally reached the examination room, I thanked him for his kindness and he went his way.

Other examinees were already at the site before me. They looked surprisingly relaxed, much to my dismay and irritation.  That remaining flicker of self-confidence was doused by their intimidating presence. I just went to a corner and crammed some unimportant nursing concepts.

A little while after the preceding batch of examinees finally exited the room, we were called in by the proctor. He was a middle-aged man with a slightly large build and a receding hairline. We queued up and one-by-one, he took our exam permits as we entered the room. The room has an amphitheatre design, with white-washed walls and orange metal armchairs. The air-con must be in high cool, because the moment I entered, an icy air blanketed me. I shivered, I think. Then again, it might be because of extreme nervousness.

When we were all finally settled in, the proctor introduced himself. I forgot his surname, but I think his given was ‘Juanito’. He is a Unit Head Nurse who has been serving the hospital for almost 20 years already. Wow. You gotta have respect for this man. Talk about selfless service! He went on to discuss a lot of other things, but several points got stuck in my head:

• The Nursing Proficiency Exam has only 33 items—all Multiple Choice Questions. However, some items are weighted differently, so the total score will be 50. You need to get at least 35 to pass.

• The NPE is notorious for having an 85% mortality rate.

• The NPE is your only ticket towards employment in PGH—and the most difficult one to tackle too. Once you pass, the panel interview and the final interview will be easy-peasy.

• NPE questions are practice-based and not book-based. Thus, our experiences during our RLE days are more important than the theoretical ideal practice that we learned through Kozier and Taylor.

• The employment process during these times takes 2 to 3 years. Sadly, the turnover rate of employees is not even close 1%, mainly because of the FREEZE NURSE HIRING policy of the US and UK. The nurses hold on to their jobs while waiting for the more lucrative greener pastures at the other side of the river.

They all came as bad news to me. First, I didn’t review well. Second, I don’t remember much from my RLE days as a student. Third, when I became a clinical preceptor, I still tried to teach my students the ideal practice in the clinical area. Fourth, antagal naman ng two to three years na iyan? Magpalaki na lang muna kaya ako ng mga baboy?

Anyway, I am already at a point of no return. This is it. This is really is it. No amount of magnified compunction could ever save me from my plight now. As the proctor handed me a question booklet, I sat straight back up. I couldn’t afford this diffidence. Not now.

And in those few moments before the proctor told us to open our test booklets, I bowed my head, closed my eyes, and prayed.

“You may now open your booklets!”

And the Agonizing Wait Commences

As I found my way out of the premises of PGH, I couldn’t help but look back and stare at the magnificent façade of the hospital. Call me brazen, call me makapal… but despite the impending possibility of failure, I still managed to utter the nub of all my recent wishful thinking that has lead me to that very place.

Someday, somehow, I will work here.

Come June 4, whatever the results may be, I will never stop trying—and I will never try stopping.

Ahh, the persistence of a stupid nurse!