After the discussion between PRC and concerned parties over the matter of the leakage on August 15, with the PRC has acquiesced on a voluntary retake of the board examination, and I, perceiving that it was the end of the matter, henceforth went to back Cebu to apply for my registration. I went to see a friend, whom I have not seen for almost a year, after I have arrrived in Cebu, who was rather disappointed at my leaving the very afternoon since I only planned on staying in Cebu for a day. She decided in haste, and without much of my saying in it, that we are to roam around the city and spend much needed time together the rest of the afternoon along with our other college classmates, laughing excitedly all the time.

After joggling my schedule for the day, I left my friend with a promise to come back, and went to the PRC regional office. It was surprising, upon my arrival there, when the guard asked me what was my business there and I told him and he told me that I should have brought with me a uniform. What the hell for, I asked. And he said there was an oathtaking to be held there that day. I, having read the letter from the website and having the knowledge that the oathtaking should take place on August 22, and without a uniform, stood there scratching my head, staring bewildered at the hundreds of nurses with their immaculate white uniforms on standing in line looking all too giddy. How could I have known? I only arrived form Mindanao the very day!

The process of applying for my registration did not take long and I, deciding it was rather too early, went back to my friend's flat, and finding that the rest of my college classmates there already, disclosed my predicament. They, upon hearing this, turned to their cellphones and started asking friends of theirs for a uniform and a pair of white shoes I could borrow. But, with lunch approaching, and their efforts having no promising results, I decided to go out and buy a ticket back to Butuan. There was much argument in this that they asked me to stay for another day so that I can take the oathtaking. But with my finances being severely limited, I refused, despite their proposals to feed me and give me shelter for two more days (I simply could not).

My decision was final, I was to leave early that night, and so we went out together and visited places I have not the chance to visit during my previous stay in Cebu. Our classmate, who served as our trusted tourguide, dragged us into old churches, historic forts, took pictures with korean tourists (who seemed to be swarming this time of year), a monkey statue, a blind guitarist singing 'pretty woman', and stared and fingered and made silly fun of historical relics. After three hours of such, my friends were exhausted, and I could not wait to go home. I bid my farewell to them, after a light snack, with promises to drop by if I shall ever return, grabbed my bag headed for the ports. I was never really good at goodbyes. I decided to purchase a CD instead for Stella, having failed to find what she asked me to procure, which almost caused me to miss my boat.

Having boarded in the nick of time, lying comfortably on a mattress, with beddings this time, and even with the cool breath of the airconditioner of the 'tourist class' rather than the humid blast of the ocean wind mixed with the smell of grease and fuel down below, I could not help but think of my having missed the oathtaking. Hmm... what of that?

With very much everyone of my friends and colleagues, the whole town, the whole world perhaps, knowing that I passed the Board examination; and congratulating myself on conquering a hurdle and presently planning for the future with great eagerness and hopeful enthusiasm, now that I am to attach an RN to my appellation - catching a word of a dreadful news, like the possibility of PRC nullifying the examination and requiring all those poor souls who took it to take it again, is most disheartening.

The news has been circling above the heads of June 2006 Board passers, ever since the results were announced, like a loathsome vulture, waiting patiently to dive down and mutilate dreams into unrecognizable pieces.

I have been worried at the prospect of taking the examination again, not with the possibility of my failing it (although there is a possibility) but with the likelihood of it needlessly draining our pockets, as with the sentiments of the many others. I would take it again if I have to, and pass it again if I have to, to satisfy the doubtful minds of those who believe (almost the entirety of the health sector) that ALL of us who took the examination cheated. Well, that is a choice that I hope I should not have to make for I am sure they will not shoulder the consequent expenses.

--

It was reported earlier this evening on the local news, much to my relief (and my parents as well, I'm sure) that the PRC is NOT considering a retake. Ha! Then, tonight, I can sleep soundly.

Alas, those who have passed honestly during the June 2006 examinations, but are eventually stained by the dishonesty of others, are shunned from the prospect of employment by some health institutions, as if we all had a hand in, or even knowledge of, the deviltry that was taking place at the time.

A sad thing... and most unjust.

Early this afternoon, I recieved a most peculiar text message coming from a friend's cellphone. Although it was unmistakably her number and it was unmistakably her name - I find it rather curious as to why she would congratulate me as if she had not done it in a number of times already, and to refer to me, quite peculiarly, as 'kid'. I have only one name yet my friends call me by one of many sorts, and 'kid', I'm certain, is not one of them. I know only one person who calls me, and one which I have not heard in a very long while, among other such nicknames she (for this person is a she) is fond of calling me, kid. And so realizing this, my heart gave one of its familiar leaps and I gave one of my familiar gasps, that I could not help but ask myself: could it be?

Could it be you, Stella?

I immediately began thumbing in a reply, despite the almost uncontrollable tremors of my hand, to inquire to my friend who it was that used her cellphont to congratulate me but was too timid to leave a name. After an hour of waiting, and with much suspense, replied a familiar pair of letters, initials apparently, I should guess, in her attempt to heighten the suspense. It was rather unnecessary on her part, for I know fully well to whom the initials belong to. I asked my friend to kindly extend my thanks to Stella for her somewhat unexpected message, but greatly appreciated all the same. It was a little short, and a little late, and I was a little disappointed at why she chose not to text me with her own cellphone, for I know she has one, but it was the thought indeed that truly counts.

I have not heard anything from her or seen her for almost a year. Yet, through all those times, she existed in my heart and in my thoughts and in my dreams, that to me she is never really gone - but has taken to me an almost mythical state, almost like a ghost, a goddess. But with my seeing her, upon my passing by the hospital where she volunteers a few days ago, standing outside the ER in her immaculate uniform, conversing into her cellphone (with a preoccupied countenance that she, though staring directly at me, did not see me), and now receiving a message from her - makes her much more... real. Tangible. Touchable. Not like a photograph to amuse me with a blank smile. Not like an angel-faced succubus to visit me in my dreams and depart when I wake. Not merely a memory to remind me of the moments blurred by time.

A part of me wants to believe that there is something in her short message, that behind every words there peers that spectre of an emotion she once felt for me, even in the slightest, but I know there are none. It has been too long a time and so much has transpired. I am the only one who is unwilling to let it go, my weakness; but not her, she is stronger than me. Perhaps the message, by its warm tone, is her hand extended towards me in offering of a friendship, of forgiveness (something that I have asked of her since but was unable, at the time, to bestow), far from the harsh, heated words with which we chose to say our farewells, and for that - I am glad. Yet, there is more to it than that... somehow. I cannot wholly explain it.

But for now, it is enough.

I'll tell you, what real love is. It is blind devotion, unquestioning self-humiliation, utter submission, trust and belief against yourself and against the whole world, giving up your whole heart and soul to the smiter - as I did!

~Charles Dickens, Great Expectations