Intellectually Yours

I'm beginning to immerse myself into my new role and I, including my brain, am happy.

I miss using my brain. Don't get me wrong. I did use my brain in my past role but since it's been something that I've been doing for almost two decades, my decisions are automatic and does not require maximum brain power.

But now, I've gone back to my researcher roots. Information that I've thought I've forgotten are resurfacing and I'm actually using them to make decisions.

I'm also having a grand time organizing my lean team and finding a place for everything. As everything is digital, I was able to create a system where deadlines can be tracked and information can be easily retrieved.

I'm also more careful now in my decision making as I know whatever I do or say carry weight. Hopefully, I can maintain this momentum.

What is Success?

I was going through my old blog posts (and when I mean old, around mid-2000s old) and I was surprised with my eloquence. I didn't know I could write that well when now, I could barely write a complete sentence with correct grammar (and when I reread that sentence, I already saw something wrong).

It made me wonder what happened to my story-telling skills. I tried my hand a couple of years back in writing stories but that somehow disappeared when I gave birth to my second child. Maybe life happened? I'm not sure but I miss being able to write as much as I wanted. Maybe my creativity got buried under the guise of formal business correspondence?

Anyway, I went through my old blogs and found something interesting. I wrote this around November 2006---13 years ago.

So what really drives me? What do I consider as a success?

I am an intellectual person. As long as I am doing something that enables me to learn regularly, I'm a happy camper. Success is also not measured through material wealth or promotions. Success for me is reaching my full potential and being able to use all the talents that God has given me. Success for me is measured by meeting the objectives set AND surpassing them; to see how far I can be stretched; to see how far I can go.

It made me reflect if the definition still stands until now. Probably, maybe that's the reason why I made this move--so I can reach my full potential. However, in my goodbye letter to my team leaders, I wrote this:

My definition of success is not how far I've grown but how far my people have grown. Even if I'm no longer in Credit, I want to see you guys grow. I want to witness your success and victories and be there for you when you fail so I can show you where you can learn. Only then can I say that I'm successful. 

The first definition of success was a bit self-centered and I understand that. But after managing teams of people for the past decade, my definition somewhat changed and it's something I can relate more to now.

However, I can always aim for both. I am, after all, an achiever.

Tired but still Grateful

Even if the effectivity of my new role is not until Monday, I'm already attending meetings and immersing myself into the intricacies of my new job. One thing's for sure, it's not boring and would challenge my brain. It's definitely a thinking job and one that my mind appreciates.

I'll be doing a lot of reading and creative thinking. Now if I can only get a law degree, it would be so much better!

Grateful

After eight long years, I'll be leaving my comfort zone and will be trying something new.

The work is not relatively new but it's heavy enough to bring my downfall if I fail or lift me to new heights if I succeed.

I'm very excited with this new role but the feeling I have right now is more of sadness. I'll be leaving my team--my family for the past eight years. I had to talk to three sets of people (including my boss) and I cried in each and everyone of those conversations.

Maybe what made me emotional was the abruptness of the change. My move will take effect by next week. My bosses have identified my replacement and we have started our turnover.

I will really miss my team and our synergy. I will miss managing people even though they've contributed to the proliferation of white hairs on my head.

I take on this new challenge with an open heart and open mind. My reading prowess and comprehension will be duly tested.

I am beyond grateful and forever thankful.

Rain King by Counting Crows

They say that one way to get rid of last song syndrome (LSS) is to play the song over and over until you get tired of it. Rain King appeared in the first album of Counting Crows, August and Everything After, way back in 1993. However, the carrier single of that album was Mr. Jones which was also one of their most popular songs.

The beat and rhythm is definitely very 90s which defined the era. I could put this on repeat the whole day.

Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome

Over at my Facebook feed, I've been reading a lot of posts about Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS that I just had to share my experience with the condition and how I overcame it.

I was officially diagnosed with PCOS on 2005 but apparently, I have had it for years. All I knew about it was it will be difficult for me to get pregnant and the reason for my irregular cycle. So before I got married, my OB put me on Metformin and pills to help regulate my period.

When my husband and I decided to have a family, I went through work-ups which consisted of taking Duphaston/Provera, Clomid, ultrasounds to look for a good egg and then being injected with Pregnyl. Fortunately, we got pregnant after two cycles and we were gifted with a baby boy on January 26, 2009.

When our little boy turned 2, we wanted to have another baby so I went through the work-ups again. After 3 cycles of negative tests, we took a break to rest but I only gave myself 3 more years as I didn't want to be pregnant on my 40s.

On 2015, which was the year I turned 40, I gifted myself with a 40 lb weight loss through diet, exercise and Yoli. We also gave up on giving our son a sibling and accepted then that he will be an only child.

When I had my annual executive check-up that year, my OB and I were surprised to see that my PCOS was gone. I even had the sonologist check again because I could not believe it. After seeing polyps in my ovaries during every ultrasound for 10 years, they were amazingly clear. I just saw it as a a victory on living a healthier life (my blood chem was also beautiful to see) and didn’t give it a second thought.

On July 2016, I started feeling out of sorts. I was always sleepy and my allergies were out in full force. My colleague suggested that I take a pregnancy test. I dismissed the thought but still took a test that night. After years of seeing one line on the stick, I was not prepared to see those two blue lines telling me that I will be a mother again. I let out this ungodly screech from the bathroom and rushed out to tell my husband. Suffice to say, we were both caught off guard that all I could do was cry. When I eventually recovered, we had tests done and found out I was almost 7 weeks on the way. I gave birth with our youngest on March 4, 2017.

I’ve been off Yoli for almost 4 years and gained back half of the weight I lost (hello, post-pregnancy weight). During every executive check-up, I’m still surprised to know that my PCOS has not recurred. However, it’s not an excuse for me to slack off. I’m back on my diet and pushing myself to get more exercise. It’s a struggle but I know I’ll eventually get there.

So to my friends struggling with PCOS and infertility, you are not alone and there is a way through this.

And for those who keep on asking couples why they’re still not yet pregnant, please understand that there are always underlying reasons.

Straight From the Mouth of Babes

I wrote this essay way back 1997 and managed to unearth it today (while looking for another old document). I don't know why I wrote it but I was surprised that reading it after more than 20 years, it's still relevant.

There are some things that I would like to tweak, but overall, I'm glad how it turned out.

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One lazy Sunday afternoon, I was peacefully having lunch with my two young cousins when I asked them what they wanted for Christmas. It was a safe and innocent question, although I admit, I had a hidden agenda for asking such a very loaded query: I wanted to know up to what degree they were affected by the impending separation of their parents.

JT, 9 years old and the elder among the two said, "Sana, tumaas ang grades ko." I tried not to let my eyebrows show my surprise since from what I have heard, he was the most affected whenever their parents would get into their infamous discussions. He would cover his ears with his palms, run to the nearest corner and silently cry. I was expecting that he would say something like, "Sana, hindi na mag-away si Mommy at si Daddy."

I accepted his answer with a nod and continued eating our sparse meal of Chicken Afritada, flavoring it with more patis, doubting the slightly sour tomato flavor. When I was satisfied with the taste, I turned to JM who is two years younger than JT. I expected him to ask for a Christmas gift (he was unable to find his gift underneath our Christmas tree), bigger than his brother's present (isn't that what all kids ask for?). What he said made me wish I had not imbibed on too much patis since my tears would provide enough flavoring: "Sana tumino si Eman."

Eman happens to be their youngest brother, around 3 years old and turning into an exact version of Dennis the Menace. Ever since their parents started fighting, Eman grew more hard-headed and uncontrollable. He picked fights with his brothers and refused to listen to the adults' plea for him to behave. JM, the original title-holder, cannot even control him.

Covering my lapse, I ate a spoonful of the sauced rice and mumbled, "Eh, para sa'yo. Anong gusto mo?"

Again, he managed to reduce me to speechlessness. "Wala. Sana tumino lang si Eman." According to my gossipy sisters, this is the child who would give his caregivers a heart attack by climbing the water tank and the trees outside their house. Contrary to his elder brother, whenever they hear their parents fighting, JM would ignore the shouting and crying and instead, continue on imbibing himself with a good dosage of Cartoon Network. I do not know though if the kids know that there is physical violence involved in the fight. JT still thinks highly of their adopted father (JT and JM are sons of my aunt with different men. When she married her latest boyfriend, he adopted JT and JM and eventually, they had their own son, Eman). He even wants to be like him when grows up. My sisters and I just talk amongst ourselves, and sometimes, we cry for them too.

I don't need to have a degree in Psychology to know that my cousins are affected by their parents disagreements, and they are coping with the knowledge through their own defense mechanisms. Families are supposed to be the basic unit of society and they are assumed to be the building blocks of a child's life. I do not dare to ponder how my cousins will turn out when they reach adolescence.

I have friends who are like them, and fortunately, they turned out into very decent individuals and managed to hold up on their own. Of course, there is always a bad apple in the lot. I have seen how they waste their lives on trivial things and drink too much alcohol.

Based on those two outcomes, I am not sure how my cousins would fare (fast forward 21 years later, I have an update and will write about that later). I do not know if the love and the caring of their extended family will make a good substitute for the good, old parental love.

Of course, the story does not end there since I have to finish my plateful of the tomatoed chicken.

Getting back to our luncheon conversation, JM saved me from blubbering uncontrollable tears by asking me what I wanted. I remained quiet hoping they would forget the whole idea. It's not that I don't have any Christmas wishes, I do not know how to simplify into childrens' jargon what I wish for. How do you explain to kids your plan in life? Their level of priorities are different from ours and they wouldn't understand (or so I thought).

They kept on badgering me until I say something. Thinking of something safe and simple to say, I conceded, "Sana maka-graduate na ako this December." There. That wasn't so bad. Even a 9 and 7 year old can understand how graduation means so much to an ordinary student. Besides, it is partly true. I was denied my graduation last September due to unavoidable circumstances and I have no intent to spend another term in school.

Unfortunately, they refused to accept my retort and kept on pestering me for a more "acceptable" answer.

"Magkatrabaho," I mumbled, while drinking the saltiness of the patis and tears away.

Now uncomfortable that I introduced the topic in the first place, I tried ending the conversation by picking up my plate to bring to the kitchen, but JM's teasing remark almost made me drop my plate. "Gusto mong magka-boyfriend, ano?"

Kids have a way of hitting the spot.

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Update on JT, JM and Eman, 21 years after I wrote the above essay:

JT did not finish College but has found his calling as a Dive Instructor. He goes abroad from time to time to dive.

JM has been in and out of drug rehab. We haven't been in touch with him for a long time.

Eman lives with his eldest brother JT and also dives. I'm not sure if he even finished high school.

I love these boys and unfortunately, they are all estranged from their mom (as of now). I haven't heard from them for a couple of years (though we see each other in FB) and I miss spending time with time. Hopefully, I would get to see them this Christmas.