Strained

Whoever coined the expression “pain in the neck” sure knows what they’re talking about.

I have this thing they call “Military Neck” or Cervical Kyphosis. It is when the natural curve of the cervical spine is unnaturally straight (thus, the term), limiting my neck movement and making it prone to pain and strain.

It comes and goes. Sometimes it can be quite nagging and severe that it crawls down to my shoulder. I am not able to move or rotate my neck without hearing that faint “click” sound every time. I also have trouble looking up (to the zenith) without feeling a localized pain at the lower back of my neck.

Cervical Kyphosis is a degenerative disc disease, which means that part of my body is already deteriorating and experiencing wear and tear. It’s a clear sign of aging, but I remember having these pains and being very prone to stiff neck even when I was younger.

'Guess my headbangin’ days are over. 

It was October of last year when I was diagnosed, and I went on a series of therapy sessions (including Cervical traction below) and prescription medications to ease the stiffness and the pain.

I was also given some examples of stretches and exercises I can do about a few minutes in a day.

At the office, I requested the facilities department to elevate my computer monitor so I wouldn’t have to bend my neck down when I’m in front of it.

To be fair, it got better since; but maybe because of my bad sleeping posture, stress and hours in front of the computer every day, I’m now being bothered by it again.

I’ve been ignoring it for days while reeking of Salonpas and Tiger Balm. Ibuprofen and Naproxen only provided temporary relief. It got harder not to mind it when the debilitating ache now reached my lower back.

I always get a full body massage when I can as it’s one of my few cheap thrills. It does help with the pain but only for a while. After two or three weeks, the symptoms will come back again.

I was told I should consider visiting a chiropractor as they are trained to provide immediate relief and they can also find the root cause of the pain and correct misalignments. However, consulting a chiropractor isn’t cheap as I’ve now found out, as they can go around 2K-5K per session.

***

It may look similar, but seitai therapy is different from chiropractic. Chiropractic involves direct adjustment of the skeleton, which I would imagine would be more painful and more — crackling. Seitai is more of helping the body heal on its own.

I tried Karada once, a Japanese seitai salon, and had their Atlas-Pelvis Balance (spine alignment) combined with a deep-tissue massage.

Karada lets you choose from a local or a Japanese therapist. While the Japanese therapist is more expensive and requires an appointment, it wasn’t the reason I opted for a local one. Truth is, I’m just not very keen being handled by them knowing of their traditional, stricter approach to healing.

The AP Balance starts off with the therapist assessing my condition. I was asked to answer a questionnaire and from there they will identify my problem areas. After that, they asked me to change to the black cotton shirt, jogging pants/pajamas and slippers they provided. I was also handed a cup of hot water (or was it tea?) which would help me relax.

The session started with twists and stretches then the application of pressure. I can hear my bones crack and would feel a weird combination of pain and relief after. For a while it made me feel a bit groggy, like how it is when muscle relaxant starts kicking in.

The use of a mechanical/drop bed can also be quite intimidating at first as I actually imagined it to be some sort of a torture rack in the Medieval times. It was nothing like that though, as it’s just a bed designed in segments and basically used to raise or drop a particular part of the body that needed realignment.

The entire session isn’t that bad and the pressure pain is tolerable, coming from someone with a high threshold for it. I don’t know if it’s placebo, but I feel revitalized after having it because even my constipation and inability to sleep was gone after getting one.

The thing is, with their promise of complete relief and overall balance, I was advised to go back every week. Now that wouldn’t be a problem if it doesn’t cost a little almost 2K per session which is still steep. Because of this, I haven’t gone back for another session after that.

***

In the meantime, a well-meaning friend made me an essential oil which she would then ship to me to help relieve the pain I’m currently having. She’s into the therapeutic-grade oils known in the market as Young Living.

Although relatively pricey than most essential oils, I have heard of Young Living from friends who swore of its efficacy. 

I’m keeping my fingers crossed hoping that it does wonders for me too. At least until I’m ready to shell out that much for a chiropractor.

Hello, monsoon.

As of this writing. Image from NOAA. 

As we are a tropical country, we only have two seasons in a year: the wet and dry season.

The thing is, whichever season we are in, we always have it in extremes. When it’s summer, the average temperature can go as high as 40°C (104°F) and when it’s the rainy season, expect to have heavy raining and flooding.

It had been raining for days now and that means commuting to and from work can be quite a pain.

Make no mistake, torrential raining affects all demographics. If you own a car (which you may subject to extensive damage due to floodwaters), you’d likely find yourself trapped in heavy traffic. If you’re like most of us who don’t enjoy the comfort of own transportation, then it’s even harder.

There’s no guaranteed way around it for regular commuters like me. Most public transport becomes unreliable as soon as it rains. You can either walk or try booking Grab but expect a ridiculous surge in fares (that is if you’re lucky enough to even get a driver to accept your booking). If the high fare is not an option, then there’s no choice but to toughen yourself up, leave your arte and poise somewhere if you want to get to where you needed to be.

I can rival any NBA player when it comes to “boxing out” just to catch a ride home. I can also be like any tightrope walker balancing myself while walking on the raised curb of an island when roads are flooded. In a few instances, I’d be hanging on to jeepney rails because there are no more vacant seats inside. I tell you, nothing else can channel my inner Lara Croft than commuting on a rainy day in the Metro.

Oh, did I tell you that chivalry is absolutely dead at times like this? If you don’t assert yourself well enough, guys can shove, knock or elbow you. That’s when my trusty umbrella comes in handy and my taller-than-average-Filipina height an advantage.

I can probably make a compilation of my many rainy day (mis)adventures. There had been rare times it pushed me to my breaking point (I blame my hormones) but mostly, I choose to laugh it off and charge it to experience. It pays to be “madiskarte” (street-smart) and well-aware and adapted in difficult situations. I guess it’s just one of the many things a single girl like me can acquire in time, knowing there’s no one to rescue her when things go awful.

One thing’s for sure—if this ever turns to be a plot of a Roland Emmerich movie, I think I can survive it.

Over the years of working in a flood-prone business district of Makati City, I got so used to flooding that it’s almost like I developed a skill to adapt to it. Why not? — an hour of heavy rains can easily transform Buendia Avenue and surrounding areas of Washington, Pasong Tamo and Dela Rosa streets to a body of water that would leave people and motorists wet, stranded and utterly frustrated.

It’s good they came up with elevated walkways (such as the Dela Rosa walkway) as this can serve thousands of pedestrians in a day by protecting them from the sun but more importantly, from rain and flood.

When there are heavy rains and I had to go home from a day in the office, I use the Dela Rosa walkway and walk towards MRT Ayala Station where there won’t be flooding and where I can get a ride home via the Park Square terminal. Waiting in long lines for a ride is one thing, getting stranded inside the jeepney due to traffic is another story. But at least I didn’t have to walk through ankle-deep water which I’d probably do if I pass by my regular route towards Washington St.

The thing about the monsoon season in the Philippines is that it’s just started. In a country that averages 20 typhoons in a year, we aren’t even in the middle of it. Remember that the strongest typhoons in our country’s history happened in the last few months of the year (Ondoy happened in September 2009 and Yolanda in November 2013), so while we all hope that our typhoons this year is not as strong as the ones I’ve mentioned, we are still bracing ourselves for the worst.

Expect now to see more of me entering our very posh office building in tsinelas (and just like those cult B actresses in the '70s—“wet-look”), since the suspension of work due to inclement weather is not the usual practice in the industry I am in. Business continuity is critical so we are expected to come to work and conduct a ‘business as usual’ mindset even when it’s already rainmageddon outside.

My best role so far

If I would be candid and downright honest about it, I don’t think I’d ever get to procreate. I mean, my OB-Gyne (Don't correct me—that’s how we call it before) never said it’s impossible even with just one ovary (I had a laparotomy in 2018), but I know it’s improbable because I don’t know a guy I’m remotely attracted to at the moment enough to get jiggy with. Unless of course, Chris Evans knocks at my door and we — *clears throat* 

I have made peace with this. I may regret it someday, but as of now, I have accepted my fate. I realized, God has His plans for everybody. It just so happens that His grand plan for me didn’t include me having little ones coming out of my sexy (ulk!) body.

I’m lucky because my parents seem to have also accepted it a long time ago. They never—not even once—pressured me (or any of us, really) to go and “propagate”. There was even a time when we thought our folks would die without having any apo, as both I and my older brother never marry.

Albeit without the badgering of my parents, there will always be the nosy people who can’t stop themselves from sticking their noses in other’s business. They’re the ones that would go: “Bigyan mo na ng apo ang mga magulang mo!” (Give your parents grandchildren!), to which I answer it then with a pasted-on smile that actually looked more like someone’s face when constipated. To tell you the truth I have wrung a lot of these people’s necks in my head.

When I was a lot younger, some people predicted that I’d have kids at a young age just because they always see me then in the company of guy friends.

“Maagang mabubuntis 'yan!” (She'd get pregnant at an early age!)

Do they seriously think I was sleeping with all those guys? Que horror. Good thing I have never given anyone the dirty finger, ever, but yeah—I would want to flip-off every one who ever thought and said that. 

*** 

It’s a good thing my younger brother stepped up to the task and gave my parents two beautiful grandchildren. It was almost into the homestretch since he’s in his mid-thirties when he had his firstborn and my parents were already approaching their seventies. Even so, it definitely made our lives so much better and worthwhile. For one, I became an aunt. And as far as good aunts go, I am the best.

Before having my nephews, I absolutely know nothing about childcare. I never had any training or practice growing up taking care of babies or children as my younger cousins who live in the same house are just about four to six years younger than me. Perhaps I was not trusted by the adults because I was a child myself.

Up until I had my first nephew, I was totally clueless that I don’t even know how to properly carry a baby. Ask my kumares how I refuse to carry my own goddaughter during her baptism out of fear that I might drop her.

But I have always been told that some mammalian females will have maternal responses and instincts whether she bore the child or not. That I shouldn’t worry about mucking things up because if I have it, I will just know. I never believed it then, but I do now.

When I had my first nephew, Gavin, it was love at first sight. That is, even if he was a small baby with jaundice who spent his first days at NICU. It broke my heart the first time I saw him crying with an IV drip chamber taped in his frail arms. At that moment, I was willing to switch places with him so he would be spared from the pain. He may be just a couple of days old, but I know right then and there that I will love that little baby forever.

This goes the same when my younger nephew, Liam, came three years later.

And just like what people have said about maternal instinct (myth or not), mine came out naturally. I was able to take care of my nephews, almost primal and instinctual. I never thought for a second that I’d get to contribute in the child-rearing considering my lack of experience around kids. I didn’t even know I possess any capability.

Even with a full-time job, I always make it a point to look after my nephews as much as I could. I make sure I spend a lot of time with them. While I didn’t trump on my sister-in-law’s divine role as their mother, I can definitely say that I am as caring, nurturing and loving as a parent.

More than anything, I just wanted to be the aunt I wish I had when I was a little.

*** 

I always say this, those two little boys got me wrapped around their teeny fingers.

Gone are the days when coming from the mall would mean I have shopping bags full of stuff for myself because right now, I spend more time in the kids and toy section than in the women’s section. It isn’t even hard to spend for them and set aside my own needs. Like how I can wear old clothes as long as my nephews will have new ones.

I had it tough as a child so I try as much not to let them experience the same. I not only spoil them with the material things that are reasonable and that I can afford, but I also let them experience a lot of things and have fun. We go to playgrounds, arcades, museums, parks, etc. I let them join activities I never even had when I was a kid like Halloween Trick or Treatin’ or Easter Egg hunts.

I haven’t been on a real date in a while now, because my weekends are spent with the two of them on tow. And it’s funny when a friend pointed out that at least these little guys will never break my heart and will always adore me. Good point.

I take their pictures as I wanted to have as many memories of them. Someday, I know they will thank me for it.

I had changed from a woman wearing stilettos and fashionable clothes holding a tiny handbag, to someone with hair up in a messy bun, in running shoes, carrying a big bag with diapers, feeding bottles and baby wipes inside.

I flood my Facebook and Instagram with my nephews’ pictures because seeing them makes me happy. I tell people anecdotes and funny stories about them.

I always tell the boys, in the simplest way I could, that the blood running through their veins is also my blood because their papa is my brother. I wanted them to realize as they get older that even if they didn’t come from me, that I love them more than “blood-running-through-veins” monologue can ever explain.

For most people, I am the best tita because I am known to spoil the kids. They always say the boys are lucky to have me as their aunt, not only because I have no children of my own (therefore I can shower all my love to them), but also because they know of my capacity to love.

What they didn’t know is that I can also be, to a small degree, fearsome when it comes to disciplining them. Both my nephews are scared of me when I get angry because they know they’ll gonna get it.  Some misbehaviors are just too much for me to tolerate and it surprised me that I turned out to be like my mom after all. I do scold them and hit them sometimes, only because I want them to grow up to be good people.

The good thing is that even if I can be the formidable “sungit” tita, they remain close and sweet to me. Always Tita Vayie this, Tita Vayie that. The younger one is particularly clingy.

So, sure, I may never be a mother. And some people might mock me contemptuously and say that I am incomplete as a woman, but because of these two boys, my life had been given meaning and purpose. God may not have planned it that I bring life to this world, but He made sure that I will be part of sustaining life and love to two boys.

If my nephews grow up to be good men who acknowledge what I did for them that in return, love me back until such time I’m old and gray, then I will die contented and complete.