Protests, Pre-Residency, and a Lion Costume

I just finished my final two weeks of pre-residency at PGH, or the Philippine General Hospital. Along with my 8 batchmates in residency, we spent the past two weeks figuring out the work commute, preparing and giving lectures to each other, shadowing the more senior residents, seeing patients at the Outpatient Department (OPD) and Emergency Room (ER), and of course, practicing for the first years' Christmas party dance. 

Yep, that’s me. You're probably wondering how I got here. Well it all started when… 

1. Storm between calms

The day immediately before returning to PGH was November 30, the day of the Baha sa Luneta 2.0 protests. We had a 3,000-strong contingent, and more people would have showed up if not for the police. Having learned from their mistakes during the September 21 rally, the police showed up in full force. They messed up the program and caused immense delays. Still, the program pushed on. There was singing, dancing, and a few speeches. At around 10 AM, we proceeded to march a grueling 4 kilometers from Luneta to Mendiola in the blazing heat. 

The route was definitely scenic, taking us through national museums, to bridges that stretched across the Pasig River, to main highways shaded by overhead train tracks. I would have enjoyed it a lot if not for the fatigue and imminent risk of heat stroke. But seeing the passersby and normal citizens join us in our chants of IKULONG NA YAN, MGA KURAKOT, with some even falling in line and marching along with us, it kept me energized and determined to complete the march. At some point, budots music blared from some supermarket speakers, and we all chanted to the beat and danced.

National museum on the right. Some museum-goers waved and cheered,
 while some looked on in silence.

An effigy of the USA-controlled Marcos looms in the background, ready to be torn apart by workers and farmers. In the foreground, crocodile-headed civilians capture the media's attention.

Forgot what this building in Manila was called but I thought it was a beautiful 
contrast to the sea of angry marchers. 

Try to spot me (clue: green hat).

The aftermath of the rally was definitely disappointing - sentiments were floating around online stoking division between the two rallies. The one in Luneta daw wanted a military junta that would destabilize the country. The one in EDSA daw was the peaceful one that wanted good governance. I think what both groups can agree on is that we are all exhausted by this political circus and want real change. The key question that divides both is, how can this change be achieved and to what extent do we want change? 

There is definitely a lot more to discuss here, and Ka Sonny Melencio explains it better than I ever could in this article. But the next day, I felt like I had to set aside these larger political feelings as I stepped into the hospital world, which came with its own hierarchies.

2. Calm before the storm

But before I get into that, here's a little explainer for my non-med readers (i.e. mom and dad). 

Pre-residency is essentially a competition, like Drag Race Philippines. You compete with a bunch of other people for the top slots in a training program, in my case, a psychiatry residency in the Philippines. There are judges (the training committee) who judge you based on your performance. Contestants also sing and dance at some point.

Because there's an element of competition, applicants generally try to outshine each other and - let's be real - suck up to the department to prove themselves worthy of the spot. Because of the implication that they hold all the power, the older residents and consultants can boss you around and tell you what to do, and you kind of just have to go along with it.

So I came into pre-residency part 1 with these expectations - bossy residents, catty contestants, and a lot of unnecessary and made-for-TV drama. But this couldn't have been farther from reality.

The residents and consultants were (are) among the nicest residents I've ever met. They are eager to teach, gave us constructive feedback on how we interviewed our own patients, and (for the most part) did not demand any singing or dancing. They also reassured us that we just had to "be ourselves." 

My fellow "contestants" were (and are) extremely nice and helpful. The ones who did their internships in PGH - Izzy, Mica, and Miguel - helped the rest of us navigate through the dizzying maze of wards and offices. The more experienced ones shared advice and tips for handling patients and answers for high-yield questions. Even though we knew we were each others' competition, we got along well and I found myself wishing that we could all be accepted. 

That was October. Around the first week of November, 9 of us received the news that we were accepted into the program, and I was so happy to discover that most of those that I had rotated with had also made it in. This was such a chaotic time too because on the day of the orientation, I had a severe allergic reaction to some meds and had to meet my new batchmates and training officer while puffy, red, and barely able to open my eyes. (INCOMING ALLERGY JUMPSCARE PIC)

Something chaotic always happens when I meet the Psych department on Zoom. The last time, I was in Vietnam and one hour late to the meeting because I'd forgotten about the time difference.

It was at this meeting that we found out that we would have to undergo a "pre-res part 2," more aptly termed "transition period." For two weeks in December, we would learn the ropes from our senior residents so that we would be better prepared come January 1, when the real thing would start. Being accepted into the program also meant formally beginning my training at Philippine General Hospital, alongside eight other incoming psychiatry residents.

3. Calm after the storm

"Pre-res part 2" felt radically different from part 1, because this time, there was no more competition. If part 1 was Drag Race Philippines, part 2 was Untucked. The focus of this season was not winning, but actively learning how to work together as part of a larger healthcare team. 

The senior residents were now asking us to drop the Ma'am/Sir. The graduating third-years were bidding their long-time patients goodbye and turning over their care to us incoming first-years. And, most importantly, we had to go caroling around PGH and dance at the Christmas party. 

On my very first day, I came into the hospital about 50 shades darker because of the rally the previous day. At Alvior Hall, we were each handed our department polo shirts, which were white with the green logo of the department embroidered on. Holding my shirt, it felt kind of like holding a wedding ring - it was a symbol of my commitment to the path of psychiatry, and there was no turning back. It felt heavy, intense, serious, and solemn.

Then we were given our Christmas hats.

The day of caroling came and it was so funny because at each office we went to, the people would ask us Pinilit kayo no? and in unison we would go Nooooooooo 😬😬😬😬😬😬  One of the admin people even told us to blink twice if we needed help lol. Anyway, we got good reviews from our chief residents, and it made our department chair happy, so that's that. 

Walang hinihingi kundi ang inyong ngiti! With PGH director Dr. Gap Legaspi, Psych department chair Dr. Evangeline Dela Fuente, incoming and outgoing chief residents, and other admin staff.

In hindsight, the whole day felt like a fever dream. Right after caroling, we were instructed to go straight to HR to process our documents and stuff. It was hard to pay attention to the litany of documents we had to prepare while holding on to my guitar and brushing away a tinsel scarf.

And after a few hours of party preparations, it was time for our big performance. 

Photo posted without consent. Sorry guys.

And of course, our very first Christmas party photo as a batch.

Photo again posted without consent. Sorry again guys.

I also won Best Dressed with my lion costume! It was a toss-up between me and another resident dressed as a bearded lady. I happily took the last train home carrying my new stand fan.

But as I write this, I wonder how I'm altering the timeline by posting these photos online for all to see. Is this a boundary violation for future patients who will stumble upon this post and find these well-respected doctors dressed up in silly costumes? Perhaps only time can tell. 

Unlike Anton in his mustard yellow fortune teller costume, I may not have a crystal ball. Still, I will dare to offer this prediction. Based on my time with the department and my co-residents over the past four weeks, I think the future looks very bright for us.