Writers' minds, hearts, hands at work

My painter friend, Corazon Patarata, who has retired from the foreign service, reminded me in an SMS yesterday, after she learned that I was recovering from surgery, to "go easy muna. There is a time for writing with passion again. Let it wait awhile, you will have new perspectives."

I surmise this is why we have friends apart from blood kin. We can ignore the kin's reminders to guard our health but not our friends'. I noticed many changes after the surgery to remove a tumor that turned out to be benign. Since the incision cut through the leftmost side of my face and neck (that brought about jokes before my hospital confinement that I was disappearing from the world temporarily for a face-lift or cosmetic surgery), there is still numbness and a dull, throbbing ache.

I can't chew without exerting much effort so I now prefer soups, soupy oatmeal, soupy champorado, soft breads with melted butter and cheese, viands that have broth like sinigang with veggies softened. Crunchy stuff like tortilla chips cause great discomfort and a loud ringing in my left ear, no matter how I crave for salty and meaty food. I can no longer, hope this is temporary, put the entire spoon in my mouth. Suddenly, I have to eat daintily!

My way of coping--which is what I do with my other ailments--is to keep my mind, heart and fingers busy. Just what Pope Francis recommended: use our minds, hearts and hands, think, feel and do. For God's glory.

Well, Cora, if I stop, I feel the spirit that moves me to write even a blog entry will be the one to take leave of me. I do appreciate friends' concerns.

Lissa Romero de Guia promises to bump and grind to the song "Let Me Entertain You" from the musical Gypsy. Her program includes Broadway and jazz favorites.

Ian Paolo Acosta, guitarist, singer and composer

But February is looking to be a busy month for this cultural worker. On Feb. 6, the Baguio Writers Group is mounting a pre-Valentine dinner concert, "Fever: A Night of Love Songs and Poetry," at Hill Station, Casa Vallejo, Baguio City. Featured are Lissa Romero de Guia and jazz-blues guitarist Ian Paolo Acosta, all Baguio-based talents, apart from our resident poets who'll outdo one another in passionately reading or performing their love poems.

As if pushing a concert ain't enough alongside selling tickets (only P850 each inclusive of a full-course dinner with a Moroccan theme plus a drink), the BWG "think tank" also thought of a sidelight (side show?) to our concert: a booth for "Love (Letters) for Sale."
To paraphrase new member Nash Tysmans, the BWG members blessed with good to fine penmanship will serve as Cyrano de Bergeracs to help the timid, receding or inarticulate to express their feelings for real Roxanes. But these letters can also be love letters to parents, children, pets. We can't guarantee a "Yes" to romantic proposals, and we won't accept break-up letters.

The letters don't end there. They come with a heart-shaped rum cake with semi-fondant icing baked and packaged by everyone's favorite mamita and BWG senior member, Toottee Chanco-Pacis. We know her for her to-die-for brownies, lemon squares and now, rum cake!

A Google document form has already been set up where those keen on tapping the services of eloquent love letter writers can write their specifications. Just copy and paste to another tab or window the link that follows:

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1yMt_SqJa1yXYpZpramYWTqUcyaYyGDHzB6ub5O5eCUU/viewform?c=0&w=1

Truly, the world I live in will not slow down to wait for the full restoration of my senses. I'm off antibiotics and pain-killers, the doctor pronounced me fit to work (does that include "to socialize", too?). Since my outer ear is numb and only parts of it will recover feeling in due time, I was told by him, half-kiddingly, that I can have it pierced in several spots and wear all the studs and earrings I want. Which may be the right accessories for a Moroccan pre-Valentine party!

Some of the BWG members at their planning meeting (from left): Merci Javier Dulawan, Nonnette Bennett, Toottee Chanco Pacis, the blogger with her grandchild, Junley Lazaga, Frank Cimatu, Ben Tapang, Padma Perez, Lissa and Jenny Cariño.

From a distance: Surprised and touched by Francis

Rock star Pope Francis just checked into the Philippines when I checked into the St. Louis University Hospital of the Sacred Heart for a scheduled three-day confinement that stretched to another half day. I took this photo of a side of Baguio visible from one of the hospital's windows. I needed to refer to it when a bit of fear nibbled me as I prepared for a paratidectomy, a surgical incision to be done on a side of my face near the neck where a suspicious tumor had been growing. I stayed in a semi-private room while waiting for a private one to be vacated. Was I cheered when I saw that the private room had a small TV from where I could monitor good Francis' itinerary. Was able to catch his meeting with families.

On the day of his truncated visit to Tacloban, I was at the mercy of a team of doctors led by Anthony Vanadero. It was a two-hour long procedure; I was fully knocked out until I was brought back to my hospital bed where I requested that the TV be switched on. I asked my daughter and watcher Kimi to take souvenir shots of me at my worst-looking state so my other daughter abroad would know. But the pics frightened Ida and my apo Kai. The latter ran away from the image and covered her eyes when it was shown to her. But I was confident I would emerge from my Manny Pacquiao look in a better state.

On Sunday, the 17th, I felt I had my own resurrection. Most of the gauze and tape were removed, I could sit up and feed myself. Best of all, I was one with the youth at the University of the Santo Tomas, especially the child Glyzelle Palomar who wept openly as she asked in a heartbreaking voice why God allowed children to suffer. My heart swelled when he asked why there weren't more girls and women represented among the select who read their personal messages to him. I could've jumped for joy at that statement, but all I could manage was a thumb up. Thanks, Francis, for acknowledging women, for pointing out how cleansing, purifying tears are the mark of a true Christian!

As Francis and entourage flew out of Philippine air space, I also made ready to pack up. I received my instructions on how to care for my wound and when to return for a follow-up. The team of residents and my surgeon Dr. Vanadero (third from right) gamely pose for a patient with this strange request. Thank you, grazie mille!

Nothing like the constancy of a husband's love to see me through so thank you, too, Rolly. God is truly good. A bit of a stretch to make it seem I had a journey that was parallel to His Holiness. But I don't think it was a coincidence. With my faith and hope strengthened by the prayers of friends and family, I can say it was wonderful and joyful synchronicity!