a

Pagkalinga Paggunita Pagninilay

Second volume of the PGH Human Spirit Project

 PAGGUNITA
Mga Saloobin Ukol sa Paglilingkod at Pagkukusang-loob
sa Panahon ng Pandemya

Felice Katrina T. Ranche

Jose V. Tecson, III
Johanna Patricia A. Cañal
Jed Zachary A. Golez
Tammy L. Dela Rosa
Editors

UNIVERSITY OF THE PHILIPPINES MANILA

 Copyright © 2020 University of the Philippines Manila

First Edition December 2020

ISBN: 978-621-454-004-4

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be copied or used without the permission of the individual authors,
photographers and publisher.

Book Cover Design by Alfonso Rafael G. Abaya

Book Design by Felice Katrina T. Ranche
Cover Photo by Jose V. Tecson, III

Published by the University of the Philippines Manila

 “Finally, if any use or benefit... should accrue from my labours,
it will, perhaps, be allowed that I have not lived idly.”
-- William Harvey, On the Motion of the Heart and Blood in Animals
Table of Contents

Foreword i
Carmencita D. Padilla
I. Inspiration: Pamukaw-Sigla 1
How the PGH COVID Hotline Changed My Life 2
Regina P. Berba
The Early Days 6
Ino Paul R. Villacastin
Finally Awake 8
Alexa Tanchuling
Hard Times 10
Ronneil S. Bilbao
Our First Zoom SGD: A Discussion among Volunteer Interns (Part 1) 12
Justin Bryan D. Maranan
With Windows Shut 14
Jhio Jan A, Navarro
Finding a Higher Purpose to Volunteer 15
Leilanie A. Nicodemus
II. Passion: Simbuyo ng Damdamin 17
The Ultimate Secret: The People 19
Carmencita D. Padilla
Community-Based Measures in the Fight Against COVID-19 20
Anthony Geronimo H. Cordero
Hope in a Number 22
Diana Tamondong-Lachica
Buwis Buhay 23
Elvie Victonette B. Razon Gonzalez
Our First Zoom SGD: A Discussion among Volunteer Interns (Part 2) 24
Justin Bryan D. Maranan
“Hi, Ma’am!” - Taking Care of Volunteers 26
Joanna V. Toralba
To Be Afraid is Human 28
Lance Catedral
Topple Down Fear 31
Eunice Angus
Alvior Hall in the Time of COVID 32
Anthony Perez
III. Belonging: Pag-anib 35
13 Reasons Why I Joined BNOC (and don’t regret it) 36
Agnes Grace Y. Angeles
Joining the Volunteers 38
Jay-V James G. Barit
An Opportunity to Serve 41
Maria Concepcion “Connie” Sison
To Comfort Always 42
Michelle Ann B. Eala
Making Sense of this Pandemic 43
Scarlett Mia S. Tabuñar
Mga Tauhan sa Social Media 44
Eric Abalajon
Where were you, and what did you do, when COVID came? 46
Ivy E. Reside
IV. Realization: Pagtanto 49
Our First Zoom SGD: A Discussion among Volunteer Interns (Part 3) 50
Justin Bryan D. Maranan
Ang Pamilya Ngayong Pandemya 52
Sydney M. Madlangsakay, Geremiah Edison Daniel C. Llanes,
Hazel S. Lapitan & Paul Kenny L. Ko
Rewriting 54
Johanna Patricia A. Cañal
Rediscovering Purpose 56
Robyn Rae M. Nepomuceno
Systems Make What Systems Break 57
Keisha Rae S. Dela Cerna
There is no task too big nor too small 58
Kristine Rachelle Pacete-Estrera
Wake-up Call 59
Korynne Amber C. Garcia
Sunset 60
Lourdes Dominique R. Panganiban
Share 62
Roi Solomon B. Labay
Changing the World 63
Erica Gabrielle A. Delos Reyes
V. Hope: Pag-asa 65
Bayanihan Spirit 66
Geraldine Bernadete C.S. Lim
Ang Lunas 67
Laureen Theresa Lioanag
Disquiet 68
Johanna Patricia A. Cañal
Esperance 69
Nathaniel Toriano dela Cruz
Operative Word: OK 71
Hannah Melizza A. Paguila
Empleyado 72
Genevieve Joyce Saludez
The Light 73
Abigail Marie O. Lim
When You See a Swan 74
Marc Gregory Y. Yu

Contributors 76
Editors 80
Acknowledgments 81
Foreword

The past several months have been difficult and challenging as the university was tossed into
a burst of activities and tumultuous situations all directed to fight the COVID-19 pandemic.
But with the inspired leadership of UP officials and the incredible support of our constituents,
partners, and others within and outside the country, we are proud and grateful to have put in
place a swift, integrated, science-based, and sustained response and movement.
A major turning point in this movement was the designation of the Philippine General Hospital
as a COVID-19 referral center, a development aligned with our mandate as the national
university hospital. The huge task that awaited PGH in managing COVID-19 cases; great
need for supplies, equipment, manpower, and myriad logistical support; and our community’s
outpouring of willingness to share time, talents, and efforts necessitated the creation of an
epicenter that would orchestrate these multifaceted activities for this crusade against the
menace to succeed.
These were the reasons why the UP-PGH Bayanihan Na! Operations Center was born. From
its establishment to its smooth running for nine months now, volunteers have been the Center’s
main force.
The Bayanihan Center has grown in scope and function from having started as a small spark
of a few that intensified into a swelling of a multitude’s earnest desire to aid those in need at
such a crucial time. The support for this endeavor has been overwhelming and untiring and
became an effective and beneficial channel for voluntarism!
I have conducted debriefing sessions with the volunteers, and their feelings and reflections are
deeply inspiring, and these have to be documented for future readers to appreciate the colorful

i
 journey we all went through. Our grateful acknowledgement goes to the Mu Sigma Phi for
their efforts and assistance in the publication of this book of reflections.
Within these pages, the reader will delve into the deep fear and actual risks faced by authors.
Despite these however, the acquired new skills and lessons learned by each one will also be
documented.
UP Manila hopes that these sentiments and musings will embolden more in our midst to
harness their enthusiasm and commitment, and offer themselves especially during times of
crises.
May the voices in this volume resonate deeply; may the stories of inspiration, passion, belonging,
realization, and hope ignite and rekindle in every human being a sincere and burning desire
to be a VOLUNTEER.

Carmencita D. Padilla
Chancellor, University of the Philippines Manila
December 2020

ii
Inspiration

Pamukaw-sigla
Jose V. Tecson, III

Ang ating hinaharap ay hindi madali

Kalaban ay mabangis at walang pinipili
Sa ating sama-samang pagtunggali
Ang pagtangis ay mapapawi

Mahaba pa ang ating tatahakin

Ngunit ang ating laging alalahanin:
Ang hirap at pagsubok ay lilipas din
At muli tayo ay pagsasamahin

1
 How the PGH COVID Hotline Changed My Life
Regina P. Berba

It all started with a line from that PGH poster:
Tumawag muna sa PGH COVID HOTLINE
09*****1534
It was a Saturday night, March 14, 2020. President Duterte
had ordered a community quarantine for the entire 17
districts of Metro Manila, which was to begin the next
day. Our lives were bound to change drastically. I was part
of a small group tasked with the creation of Information,
Education and Communication (IEC) materials to
instruct our PGH healthcare workers about COVID-19.
Somebody said, “We need a telephone number our staff
can call in case they have questions.”
I answered, “Oh, I can do that!”
“Are you sure?”
Piece of cake! Siguro naman, I could answer most
questions that might beleaguer our staff in PGH! We had
been preparing the hospital and the staff since January.
Among the members of our team, I was probably the
most capable of answering a COVID hotline.
On Sunday, March 15, I stopped by a convenience store
on my way to hospital rounds. I bought a new SIM card
to put in my phone, just so the hotline wouldn’t mix with
my usual life. Then, it started. That night, I received 5
calls -- but they weren’t from PGH staff.
“PGH COVID hotline po ba ‘to?”
2
My response: “Opo! Paano ko po kayo matutulungan?” I
was very excited to receive the first call.
The caller asked, “Parang nilalagnat po ako kanina. Pero
sa thermometer po ay 37.5 po ako. Lagnat na po ba ito?
Ano po ba ang lagnat sa COVID-19?”
That was not difficult at all. “Ang lagnat po ay 37.8
or higher. Kunin nyo po nang paulit-ulit ang inyong
temperature kada apat na oras.”
The next caller asked, “Magkano po ang COVID test sa
PGH?”
“Wala pong bayad ang swab test na RT-PCR sa PGH.
Ngunit kailangan pong tingnan muna kayo ng mga
doktor sa PGH Triage para po ma-check up muna kayo.”
I had the answers to their questions.
Kayang-kaya ko ito!
On March 16, President Duterte expanded the
community quarantine restrictions to the entire island of
Luzon, an event now ingrained in our memory as the
ECQ. That day, calls to the COVID hotline started to
come more frequently during daytime. Then, they came
almost every hour… then, almost every 15 minutes! They
started coming in endlessly, night and day! Wait, it’s 8PM.
There’s curfew already. Shouldn’t they stop calling? One night,
I tried to pretend that I was asleep, but the phone didn’t
stop ringing until I picked it up. The calls came from
everywhere: Bulacan, Pasay, Caloocan, Cebu, Iloilo.
Some even came from the US! Hmmm… how did they get
this number?
The PGH COVID hotline was starting to affect my life.
I wasn’t allowed to sleep straight anymore. During the
day, I could not even carry a conversation with someone
without getting a hotline call. My phone would get
physically hot, and my battery would get exhausted very
quickly. I thought about just removing the SIM card
from my phone. Nobody actually seemed to care whom
they were talking to. And nobody outside our small IEC
group knew that I was the person manning the hotline.
Out of hundreds of calls, I was asked who I was less than
five times. But I did not dare turn off my phone after
making some important observations.
First, the people were really afraid.
The fear and anxiety was palpable. People didn’t text; they
called! They wanted answers right away. Doktora, meron
akong sore throat -- may COVID na ba ako? Sometimes it
was, Meron akong lagnat. Mamamatay na po ba ako? Ano pong
gagawin ko? It had just been over a week since the first cases
in Greenhills. We advised those with mild symptoms
to stay at home, self-isolate and observe. About two-
thirds of callers were like these, asking about COVID
symptoms and checking if what they were experiencing
could be COVID.
After probing into their history, I would often say, “You
sound like you have a mild illness. Ang payo po ng DOH
kung mild ay maaaring sa bahay po magpahinga sa ilalim
ng isolation. Maaari pong COVID-19 ang sintomas
ninyo, ngunit maaari din pong ibang viral infection.
Magpahinga po sa bahay nang 14 na araw. Hindi na po
kailangang magpa-test.”
Sometimes, after this initial advice, another call would
come in after a few minutes. “Dok, ako po yung tumawag
kanina. Paano po mag-isolate yung kapatid ko? Nasa
apartment po kami na maliit. Walang space para sa
isolation.”
I tried to reassure everyone and help them make the
most of their situation. “Oo nga po minsan mahirap
talaga. Una po ay bigyan ninyo po siya ng face mask.
Tapos ay baka maaari pong bigyan ninyo siya ng isang
takdang lugar sa bahay ninyo na tatawagin ninyong space
niya. Doon po siya magpapahinga. Doon din dadalhan
ng pagkain. Kung gagamit siya ng banyo ay lilinisin ang
banyo kaagad pagkagamit niya.”
Most of these calls would come in while I was doing my
usual hospital work and rounds. Sometimes, I knew my
phone was ringing, but I couldn’t pick up right away as I
was “trapped” in my personal protective equipment.
During those weeks, the COVID admissions were
coming in large numbers! They all needed to be seen
urgently. We were all also grappling with the tidal wave
of new information. The public was being bombarded
with horrifying stories about COVID, which led to alarm
and panic. I didn’t know if I was able to give the answers
the hotline callers wanted to hear. Occasionally though,
3
I would get a thank you. Salamat po at God bless po.
We needed a better way to disseminate information.
Second, some people really needed immediate
medical help, but did not know where to go.
“Hello? Is this the COVID hotline? I am a doctor. I have
a clinic in Marikina. I have been having chills for the
past two days but just a slight dry cough. I am feeling
short of breath now when I walk to the bathroom from
my bed. Do you think I should go to the hospital? Will I
get COVID if I go to the ER?”
This hotline work required me to listen to the news on
my way to and from work. I also needed to know more
about what the government was doing. I needed to know
how to answer more than just health-related COVID
questions.
In the frenzy of answering COVID hotline phone calls,
I missed some calls to my own phone. Some were from
colleagues needing medical care themselves. Our usual
practices for consultations and admissions were not
enough anymore.
We needed a system that would make it easier for
people to access the COVID care they needed.
Third, some people would get very sick.
“Hello? PGH COVID hotline po ba ito? Kailangan po
namin ng tulong! Hindi na po makahinga nanay ko!”
The caller was woman, probably in her twenties, and
4
she was frantic. “Nasa ospital na po kami doktora. Nasa
ER na po kami. Pero hindi daw nila kami matatanggap
kasi baka daw po may COVID ang nanay ko. Doktora,
tulungan ninyo po kami. Baka kung ano po ang mangyari
sa nanay ko.”
I could not find the right words. “Sandali lang po.
Masasabi ninyo po ba exactly nasaan kayo ngayon?
Tatawagan ko kayo in a few minutes. May doktor bang
tumitingin sa nanay mo?” .
“Opo, Doktora. Puede ninyo po ba sila kausapin?” She
started to cry. “Doktora, tulungan po ninyo ang nanay
ko.”
“Tawagan kita ulit. Aayusin ko po ang ambulance pero
kailangan ko lang po kausapin ang mga tao sa ER namin.”
I hung up and called the ER triage, where they arranged
for an ambulance to get the patient. I was able to return
the call in about two minutes. “Standby po kayo ma’am.
Sagutin ninyo po ang telepono ninyo kapag nag-ring.
Tatawagan po kayo ng ER namin. Susunduin po ang
nanay ninyo ng PGH ambulance. Hang on lang po.”
Good job! I thought to myself. It was good that the
numbers were already in my directory; that saved a lot of
time. We had already put a system in place to respond to
these kinds of calls. Another patient saved! I forgot about
that case later that day. There were so many other calls.
I got a text three days later. “Salamat po, Doktora. Hindi
na po kami naabutan ng ambulance. Namatay na po si
Nanay. Kinailangan niya po ng tubo. Tapos nawala na po
siya. Napakabilis po. Salamat po sa tulong ninyo.”
So many patients were dying at that time. We had heard
about hospitals unable to cope with sudden surge of very
ill patients. Our own ER was full of sick patients waiting
for their COVID test results.
To save lives, we had to respond more efficiently.

On March 31, my phone died. Nobody could diagnose

what happened. Around 10AM, it just stopped. I was
texting a response and the screen just went blank. People
tried to resuscitate it, but were unsuccessful. As if by
providence, another more organized UP group stepped
in to take over the COVID hotline task. I passed on the
SIM card and my endorsements.
Looking back, those two weeks holding the COVID
hotline phone defined my response to COVID-19 and
how I now deal with patients reaching out to us as a health
workforce. In every sense of the word, we represent their
lifeline, their hope of getting the right care.
We have since then transformed our PGH system into
a COVID Referral Hospital to address the needs of
the community and the country. I, along with several
groups and professional organizations I am part of, am
committed to disseminate as much correct information
as possible — through online lectures and webinars,
educational videos, Zoom meetings, articles, interviews
-- whatever works.
We are all responding to this COVID-19 pandemic in
the best way we can. In the words of the original poster-
to-blame:
Talunin natin ang COVID-19!

5
 The Early Days
Ino Paul R. Villacastin

What inspired me to be a volunteer was just thinking of our residents, fellows, consultants and other healthcare workers
still going to the hospital despite the many dangers and uncertainty they faced with the pandemic. My co-interns and
I just wanted to help out as much as we could so that their burden would be lessened. I think that the UP College of
Medicine and Philippine General Hospital had instilled that passion for service in every one of us. How could I say no
to the challenge given to us? And I’m glad that many of us answered the call.
It started out when we were allowed to help in the non-COVID wards. But when we weren’t allowed there anymore,
we still wanted to help out somehow. And I was grateful enough to be a part of the core intern volunteers who helped
start the BNOC hotline center. I was inspired by our mentors--Chancellor Padilla, Dr. Anthony Perez, Dr. Michael Tee,
Dr. Armand Crisostomo, and Dr. Diana Lachica. They were the ones who thought of setting up the hotline center,
and I was privileged enough to see them work behind the scenes. I saw how brilliant they were. I was also inspired by,
and thankful for, Dr. Lanie Nicodemus, Dr. Melfred Hernandez, and Dr. Rodney Dofitas. We were able to coordinate
with the volunteers and donations. Dr. Juliet Sio-Aguilar and Dr. Stella Jose also looked after the welfare of the intern
volunteers and sent us inspirational messages in our Viber thread.
For me, I’m just really happy to help out in any way I could at that time. As a core intern volunteer, I had many challenges
throughout the early weeks of the pandemic, especially when figuring out how to start the hotline center. My co-
volunteers were nervous in the lead up to the launch. But in the end, we prevailed and I think the hotline center was a
success. Of course there were some challenges, like the technical difficulties, the fact that we weren’t really trained to be
call center agents or how to do telemedicine. But I would like to think everyone did a good job and we were able to help
our frontliners focus on their jobs. I was just thinking that every contribution matters. And it gave me a great sense of
pride and belonging to be able to help out during this difficult time.
The pandemic showed us the problems within our health system. But I think it also showed us that people are willing to
work together for the greater good. Just like the bayanihan spirit. It gives me hope that we will learn from this pandemic,
and we will help each other improve our health system and rebuild our country after all of this is done. I hope that the
future generations will look back on this and be inspired by the efforts of the healthcare workers at UPCM and PGH. I
have faith that, by the next pandemic, we will have learned our mistakes and become much more prepared.

6
7
 Finally Awake
Alexa Tanchuling

How sweet it is to live a comfortable life

How novel it is to know no hunger, thirst, nor danger
But such is not the life for us
Not now, not even before.

Year after year we sought for change

Day after day we see our suffering
Not a second passes by
Thinking we’ve lost, thinking there’s no hope.

This year we’ve been thrown for another loop

A pandemic has come
No cure is yet found
Mind and bodies bound by fear and terror.

But one cannot just hide at home

When there are mouths to feed
And needs to meet
Oh how I wish it wasn’t so.

At first, I was paralyzed with uncertainties

Of what tomorrow will be
Learning that there was no one to save us
Knowing that we were thrown in the dark.

8
I thought I could sleep through this recurring nightmare
Just like any other day, but could I really?
Tossing and turning, I racked my brain for answers
Ding! A call for volunteers!

Bayanihan!

With a shaky “Hello” I started to wake up

To the reality we’ve been thrust into
A worried “Can you help me?” followed
Raw and vulnerable, I answered “Yes po.”

With each ring comes clarity

Stories unheard coming from every corner
How can you not have compassion for them?
“Thank you, Bayanihan!”

The calls that wake us up to the truth are endless

Yet only a few have answered that call.
If the phone rings for you,
Will you pick up?

I AM FINALLY AWAKE.

9
 Hard Times
Ronneil S. Bilbao
A year before, nobody expected people to care so much about seemingly mundane things. In the hospital, handwashing
and ubiquitous mask use had always been standard practice, but not exceptionally enforced outside controlled settings.
Social distancing seemed like a nonexistent concept, and interpersonal contact was unavoidable.
Until the pandemic hit the country.
News of previously healthy patients suddenly showing severe symptoms alarmed every nation as the virus spread fast.
The fear of the invisible enemy caused administrations to rethink their plans – in hospitals, policy-making, and everyday
interactions. Every move was evaluated, lest people incur the risk of infection.
I was not immune to the fear. As someone who worked inside the hospital, my fear was palpable. Suddenly, I felt
surrounded by figures and tables tallying cases and deaths. We were pulled out of hospital duties, certain protocols were
implemented, and systemic changes were done to accommodate the patients. It really seemed like a dystopian movie.

10
Instead of being paralyzed, I had to act. As a student, I
was not yet bound by any obligation to serve the hospital
or university, but I stepped up because of several reasons.
First, I was unable to return to my hometown because of
stringent community quarantine measures. Despite this
limitation, to do nothing and wait out the storm would
have been in conflict with the values inculcated in me.
My first attempts were unsuccessful. The Philippine
General Hospital strictly enforced new rules that did
not allow clerks inside the grounds. I contacted two
residents from my earlier rotations, but they told me that
the College of Medicine also firmly forbade the clinical
departments from allowing students to continue hospital
work.
What were the remaining options? I volunteered at the
Office of the Vice President’s Shuttle Service for Health
Care Workers program. It felt like being in the frontlines,
ensuring stringent screening and contact tracing while
providing mobility. While on duty, I was struck by the
reality that this pandemic immobilized our systems,
with the health sector being the most piteous. With the
difficulties in mobilization and attending work, one would
be hard-pressed to find more dedicated workers than our
healthcare professionals and frontliners. Transportation
was not their only pressing issue. Lack of protection,
inadequate compensation, and uncertainty about what
they faced compounded their fears.
Down to its every physician, nurse, and staff, PGH was
full of that fear. Exacerbating this were logistical issues
and duty adjustments. How could they be protected?
How could they be reassured, and their concerns allayed?
I heard these questions during my hospital appointments,
when I was tested for coronavirus.
An opportunity came in the form of a call for volunteers
to supervise the donations, and I immediately signed up.
My main task was accounting for all donations using a
centralized database.
The experience struck me with the realization that we,
as a country and society, were utterly unprepared. Our
health system was never inclusive even at best, and
the crisis only exposed that gap. Preexisting crises also
worsened. But for what it was worth, the best of the
Filipinos shone through. The concept of bayanihan was
the very embodiment of Filipino solidarity, infused with
prayers for deliverance and trust in the frontliners.
I was extremely grateful to have been involved in
the efforts of my fellowmen. Keeping track of goods,
personal protective equipment, sustenance, and other
donations helped me appreciate the generosity and
resilience of Filipinos. Several initiatives to pool our
resources resulted in a steady stream of supplies and
equipment for our healthcare workers.
Moving on to what will be a unique internship experience,
I will be among the frontliners. I cannot help but be
affected by fears and insecurities in this time of crisis.
However, my volunteer experience reassures me that I
will never be alone.
11
 Our First Zoom SGD:
A Discussion among Volunteer Interns (Part 1)
Justin Bryan D. Maranan

Inspired by this new “normal”, a group of PGH Interns held a Zoom SGD on their experiences as volunteers
during the pandemic.

Justin: With the conversion of PGH into a COVID referral hospital, we were pulled out indefinitely for our
own safety. What was going through your minds then?
Fed: I was frustrated. We were building something nice. More interns were volunteering, and we were
gaining traction. Props to Admin for prioritizing our safety. I just wish we could have done more.
Ven: I was worried, especially for IM. On top of old patients, they prepared for the incoming COVID
patients. Na-doble workload nila, tapos nabawasan pa yung manpower.
Ino: I appreciated Admin stepping in at the right time to say, “Thanks, pero you’ve done enough. Time
to prioritize your safety.” It would have been a bigger problem if an intern got sick, or nag-spread yung
COVID-19 due to our involvement.
Justin: As we were pulled out from PGH for the last time, the PGH Hotline was being established. Mitch
and Ino, you helped set this project up with Admin. What happened during this transition?
Mitch: It started with Ma’am Diana Lachica, who couldn’t volunteer since breastfeeding siya - she really
took the job of developing this system. Meanwhile, Ma’am Mia Tabuñar was a one-woman show, handling
donations during the first two weeks. When I talked to her, she would say things like, I’ve been glued to my
phone all day or Di pa ko kumakain ngayong araw. It was too much work for one person. We met with Chancellor
Padilla, tapos dinistribute niya kami. Kami ni Nick helped Ma’am Mia develop the Donations Arm. Tapos si
Ino, assigned to make the manual.

12
Ino: Yung buong PGH Hotline, consultants talaga
nag-conceptualize. Sila Sir Mike Tee, Sir Tony Perez,
along with Ma’am Diana and Ma’am Mia - we just put
their plans into motion. Pero ang daming nangyari
along the way.

Mitch:
We figured out what to do as we went
along. ‘Di naman tayo call-center
experts. This was our first time doing
something like this.

Ino: We only had one week for dry-runs before start

of operations! Impossible i-train lahat ng volunteers
by then, so we made instructional videos to orient
them on their first duty. Responsive yung consultants
to our needs. Leading up to the launch, Sir Mike Tee
told me, Ako troubleshooter mo. ‘Pag meron kang problema,
daan mo sa’kin, ako bahala. Sir Mike would then take
our feedback to the developers. ‘Di lang ‘to project
ng UP Manila or PGH; it was a project of the whole
UP System. Without our contributors outside UPM,
none of this would have worked.
Mitch: When Chancy Padilla told us, Launch tayo on
this date, we were thinking, Hala, ‘di pa yata tayo ready.
Pero syempre, no one’s gonna tell Chancy we’re not
ready. After the launching ceremony, I looked at the
interns and thought, Ok, tayo na talaga ‘to.
13
 With Windows Shut
Jhio Jan A. Navarro

Branches turned to gallows

And nylon-threads tangled to noose
As I stared from my bed out to the kites
Hanging on to the Mahogany.
For a time, I saw them shake as if
Asphyxiated, struggling for air then
To and fro they swung
With May’s cold breath.
One might think them dead, yet
I have climbed many a time
Through the window before
Only to find most merely need
An unravelling of a knot;
A couple of broomsticks;
A few calendar dates.
Yet, today
Whether the Hummingbird about to perch
Shall sing a requiem or a lullaby,
With windows shut,
I can’t tell.

14
 Finding a Higher Purpose to Volunteer
Leilanie A. Nicodemus
“Para kanino ka bumabangon?”
This is the tagline of one advertisement on television
which pertains to a deeper inquiry into the purpose
of one’s life. This might as well have been the tagline
of the story behind each member of the volunteer
corps of the “Bayanihan Na! Operations Center”
(BNOC). This group was composed of medical
interns, students, faculty, consultants, administrative
staff, REPS and alumni of each unit of the UP system,
who continued to serve despite the odds, because
they saw a higher purpose for waking up daily. They
woke up knowing that they would be able to help
someone who was in dire need of advice, facilitate
the donation of much needed PPE and food for the
frontliners, or just simply talk to someone in need of
reassurance and relief from anxiety.
Whereas in the past, people volunteered with a clear
expectation of what to do and what risks were involved,
the COVID-19 medical crisis posed uncertainties
and risks. Yet these brave souls still chose to share
their time for a greater cause. This indescribable
passion was the personification of volunteerism that
sustained the spirit of the volunteers as they reported
for their daily BNOC duties for several months.
The volunteers often expressed that the BNOC
experience fulfilled their desire to respond to the
call for help to heal the country from widespread
COVID-19 infection, especially among the
vulnerable sectors of the society. They became part
of a bigger movement that was above and beyond
themselves. This experience brought smiles to their
faces and fulfillment to their hearts. They thought
it would be a small but significant part of the efforts
of the university and hospital. A stranger at the end
of the line relieved of anxiety, a confused person
guided on the process of COVID medical care, and
an appreciative caller grateful for sharing personal
resources -- these little things created a big impact.
This simple task of receiving such calls brought new
experiences that opened their minds to the true
meaning of service, something which is founded on
compassion and kindness.
The new learnings from the meaningful service
rendered at BNOC will go beyond this crisis. Each
of the BNOC volunteers shall have a story of hope
and courage to tell the generations to come. These
are the wonderful stories that drove them to wake up
and go to the center despite the odds, because they
found a higher purpose of being – the selfless service
for the good of others!
15
16
Passion

Simbuyo ng Damdamin
Felice Katrina T. Ranche

Paano mag-aruga
Sa layo ng isang dipa
May gulod na di makita
May pilapil sa gitna

Lagnat na may basisig

Pinasok ang kamalayan
Pagkandili sa hatinig
Ang ginhawa ko’t kanlungan

17
18
 The Ultimate Secret: The People
Carmencita D. Padilla

In the midst of the COVID-19 lockdown, UP President Danilo Concepcion (PDLC as we fondly call him) requested
PLDT Chair and CEO Manuel Pangilinan for a donation of 20 PLDT lines. On March 17, PDLC posed the challenge
to UP Manila to set up a call center, initially to handle donations but eventually expanding to patient queries with the
closure of the PGH Out-Patient Department. I viewed it as an opportunity to deliver service in another medium, and
we just needed to work on the ‘how’. In my decades in the university, I know that the secret to a successful program is
primarily in the people.
Days before my meeting with PDLC, I met PGH intern batch leaders (Nicholas “Nick” Tan, Michelle “Mitch” Eala and
Romano Agustin “RA” Pangan) to discuss ways to serve despite the APMC (Association of Philippine Medical Colleges)
stoppage of ward rotations. When the challenge came, I had a ready team! Ino Villacastin also joined us. The interns
assisted in planning the call center, which was now named UP-PGH Bayanihan Na! COVID-19 Operations Center
(BNOC), launched to the public on March 30. Nick, Mitch, RA and Ino are my BNOC Pioneers who helped set up, pilot
the system, and serve as supervisors at the BNOC, the Call Center.
Faculty from the PGH, College of Medicine and College of Pharmacy helped with the operations of the BNOC. Dr. Mia
Tabuñar (Emergency Medicine) represented PGH and served as Overall Head. Dr. Diana Lachica (Internal Medicine)
prepared and updated scripts for both patient queries and donations. Dr. Tony Perez (Surgery) handled donation tracking.
Volunteer recruitment and engagement were handled by Dr. Lanie Nicodemus (Family and Community Medicine) and
Asst Prof Joanna Toralba (College of Pharmacy). Volunteers from other UP units, universities and private offices were
handled by Dr. Ants Cordero (Family and Community Medicine). We had daily 7pm meetings to discuss trouble-shooting
measures for the call agents, algorithms for donations and patient queries, PLDT hiccups, duties of remote consultants,
food, lodging and transportation of volunteers.
We all had experience in managing donations but no one had operated a Call Center before. However, anything is possible
if one is willing to learn. I had a passionate new team willing to face the unknown. And those debriefing sessions with the
volunteers, I considered most fulfilling. That singular act of volunteer work at the BNOC led to a deeper appreciation
of one’s blessings.

19
 Community-Based Measures in the
Fight Against COVID-19
Anthony Geronimo H. Cordero

Since April, we have heard of hospitals being overwhelmed. We have read about doctors
telling people to sit down at the slightest hint of ordinary people raising a few questions and
clarifications. But our reflections will lead us to the simple fact that a war against any disease
cannot be won by hospitals and doctors alone!

Hospitals and doctors are very important. But they need to be part of a bigger system that
involves communities, government institutions, non-government organizations, people’s
organizations and smaller facilities. The aim of managing patients in hospitals so that they
can be sent home in a much better state of health is equally important as the objective of
promoting health and preventing disease by addressing the social determinants of health, with
the genuine participation of the people in the barangays, municipalities, cities and provinces.

Hospitals and doctors are very important. But they need to be part of a bigger team of
interprofessional personnel collaborating as partners. The interdisciplinary team must work
with the people because the people’s voices need to be heard. People cannot simply be passive
recipients of services! We need this collaboration because all ailments have social determinants
that need to be analyzed and addressed by everyone who is affected!

20
Hospitals and doctors are very important. They can be likened to the goalkeepers, defensive backs, and
defensive midfielders of a football team! If these players play well, then your opponent cannot score a goal
even if they mount an impressive attack. But with no attack of their own, the best that these players can
show for will be a draw. In the fight against COVID-19, this is similar to managing and sending home an
unending stream of patients who are admitted to the hospitals. COVID-19 is not beaten, but the people
that do get sick do not die. Final score: 0-0. Nil-nil.

Local government units, non-government organizations, and people’s organizations are the holding
midfielders, attacking midfielders, and strikers. These players will attack the goal. Their objective is
to score, to win the match. In the fight against COVID-19, this can be likened to the development,
implementation, monitoring and evaluation of community-based health, social and development measures
to prevent disease. COVID-19 is defeated, the people remain healthy, and they do not get sick. Final
score: 6-0! Health wins! Health wins big because everyone, from the striker to the goalkeeper, played a
beautiful game!

21
 Hope in a Number
Diana Tamondong-Lachica
To date, thousands of people have called 155-200
seeking answers to their questions. From the girl
in Palawan who did not know what to do with the
ectopic pregnancy result in her ultrasound, to the man
from Cavite who asked if asthmatics were prone to
COVID, to the woman in Misamis Occidental who
was unsure if she should still take her blood pressure
medications, and the young man from Isabela who
wondered if his sore throat was something he should
be worried about. As I review the hotline statistics
for the day, I’m amazed at how many and how far we
have reached, but I also worry about those we have
not. There were duties when I struggled, because the
hotline could only do so much and we didn’t have all
the answers. When it became difficult, I reminisced
on a particular encounter from months before.
I distinctly remember this caller on a night duty at the
hotline – there was a little tremble in her voice which
almost made me think that she was about to cry. She
requested to speak to me, despite being instructed
already by our call agent about what to do for her
symptoms. I agreed.
She narrated her symptoms again, then asked if she
had COVID-19. I gently explained that it was most
likely gastroesophageal reflux disease or GERD.
22
I was about to provide instructions when she
interrupted me to say that she knew it was GERD,
because she had been treated for that before. She
was just scared because her young toddler and elderly
mother were living with her. We spent the next few
minutes discussing how she could best handle her
anxiety from the pandemic. Before hanging up, she
profusely thanked me for allaying her fears and for
basically just talking to her. I felt a sudden sense of
familiarity when she said that.
Often, patients come to us asking for some sort
of treatment, but a lot of them just want to have a
conversation. Having a familiar feeling was something
I had never experienced during the pandemic, when
everything had been new, until then.
I guess hope struck both ways –
to the caller who needed someone to tell her
that she was okay, and to the doctor who needed
someone to tell her that some things had not
changed – and both had better tomorrows
to look forward to.
Buwis Buhay
Elvie Victonette B. Razon-Gonzalez

Kung ang aking paglabas

sa bahay ay buwis buhay
paglunok ng apoy, katumbas
ay tilamsik ng laway,

Kung ang pagtatrabaho

ay pagsabak sa digmaang dala-dala
ang kaisa-isang sandata: labing hubo,
sagad sa kulob na kataga,

Kung sa aking panayam

bakas ang alinlangan,
may karakas ng agam-agam
bitag ng takot ng isang nilalang,

Tandaan mong di ko hangad

ang alay nilang kabayanihan.
Sapat na ambag kong dasal:
Ibigay na lahat, mabuhay ka lang.

23
 Our First Zoom SGD:
A Discussion among Volunteer Interns (Part 2)
Justin Bryan D. Maranan

Inspired by this new “normal”, a group of PGH Interns held a Zoom SGD on their
experiences as volunteers during the pandemic. (continued)

Justin: For our call center interns, how was the work compared to our actual training as
clinical interns?

Mon: The Hotline, in general, provided reassurance to people. To tell them, Di niyo pa po
kailangan ng testing; you don’t need to go to the hospital -- it matters, especially from someone they
considered a “professional.” But at the same time, it’s harder reassuring patients over the
phone, since di nila nakikita yung mukha mo.

Fed: One time may tumawag na lolo – no caregivers, he couldn’t really take care of
himself. He had difficulty breathing for a while. Sabi niya sa ’kin masyado na siyang hirap
huminga to make another call, so I made the calls for him. Luckily, his LGU, Pasig, was
quick to respond, and paramedics arrived shortly after. I don’t think that would have been
possible without the Bayanihan Hotline.

24
Mitch: I had to adjust to the simplified patient interview. Usually, you have your own
way to ask the patient, to elicit symptoms. Here, it was structured in a way na chief
complaint, tapos review of symptoms na agad. Since they couldn’t see you, they had to
rely on your tone for reassurance. Dun ko naappreciate yung “Comfort Always” role of
doctors. As Dr. Tee said, one of the reasons for this hotline was panicked yung mga tao.
People needed to hear a human voice, and this was the chance to provide that. For us,
it was good practice. Matetest yung talking skills mo, making sure your voice remains
calm and reassuring. I’m sure it will help when we have our own patients in the future.

Justin: My very first call was from an asymptomatic caller at midnight. Sabi ng mga
katabi ko, parang nag Public Health Lecture daw ako over the phone – lumagpas 30
minutes sa dami niyang tanong. Initially, naiinis rin ako, until I realized this was a just
an anxious person lost in this pandemic. He got these questions online. Just because
information is out there, doesn’t mean typical laypersons will understand. Having us
“translate” it for them ay malaking bagay para sa kanila.

Justin: Do you have any notable stories or personal anecdotes from the PGH Hotline
that you want to share?

Mitch: There was difficulty teaching the hotline to non-med and “older volunteers”
who weren’t as tech-savvy. It was so funny; some of them were already professors, tapos
nahihiya ako kasi mina-Ma’am nila ako haha. I was like, “Wait lang, please don’t call me
Ma’am or Doc; it’s just Michelle.”

25
 “Hi, Ma’am!”
Taking Care of Volunteers
Joanna V. Toralba

6:30 A.M. “Hi Ma’am! Mag-stay po pala ako sa UP Dorm tonight. Thanks!”
3:00 P.M. “Hi Ma’am! Is there a van service for next week?”
5:00 P.M. “Ma’am, not feeling well po. Is it ok if I can’t come in tomorrow?”
10:00 P.M. “Hi Ma’am! Hindi pa po nabigay ang authorization pass ko. 7AM po duty ko.”

These were some of the messages I received from the volunteers of the Bayanihan Na! Operations Center. These
conversations would take place in a text message or in an email -- a not-so-usual way of communication for me. Before
the COVID-19 pandemic happened, I talked to students, faculty members, and research and administrative staff in
person. Then everything changed, and all I wanted was to go back to what I had done before. Fortunately, I found the
opportunity to serve again when I volunteered in an email to Chancellor Padilla.

Together with my fellow faculty members from the College of Pharmacy, Vince Lambert H. Padilla, Ethel Andrea C.
Ladignon, and Czarina Dominique R. Rodriguez, we set up a system of engaging people and managing the needs of the
hundreds of volunteers of the BNOC. Our group wanted the volunteers to feel that someone was taking care of their
needs, that someone was there to listen at almost any time of the day, and that someone understood them when they could
not make it to the BNOC. And the challenge was to listen and answer each concern on a personal level, without missing
out on a single volunteer. Thanks to technology and free online platforms, we were able to take care of our volunteers.
Thanks to technology, I knew who needed an authorization pass, shuttle service, parking space, or accommodation, and
on which day and which shift. The volunteers ran to me with requests for electric fans and even anti-mosquito lotion.
Imagine when they were able to claim their official BNOC shirts -- priceless!

26
 6:45 A.M. “Alright Tamara! Your name was given by Dr. Bles to the UP Dorm guard already.”
3:30 P.M. “Hi po! Yes. Si Kuya Danny po ang susundo sa inyo sa Monday.”
5:45 P.M. “Oh no. That’s ok Bryan, no worries. Rest ka muna. If you need to talk to a doctor, let us
know. Kumustahin ka ulit namin bukas.”
10:05 P.M. “Hi Arlene! Ms. Joy will send this in a while. Apologies for the delay.”

My heart is happy. I can sleep.

27
 To Be Afraid is Human
Lance Catedral

Doctors must die, too; all their knowledge of

Digitalis, adrenalin, henbane,
Matters little if death raps again—
Once he may be forestalled, but their great love
Or little love of life is merely human:
Doctors must die like other men and women.
—Merrill Moore, Les Savants Ne Sont Pas Curieux

I have been a licensed doctor for six years, but it was only in March 2020 that I feared for my life in
the light of my profession.
On the night before the 28th, I stuffed white shirts and pairs of trousers in my heavy-duty backpack.
They were enough to last me seven days. After my 24-hour shift in the hospital, I would be quarantining
in a hotel room nearby. I saved some movies in my laptop, loaded my Kindle with books, and refilled
my fountain pen with ink. My phone charger was in place. What else would I do for a week?
Prolonged isolation and extended boredom inside an air-conditioned hotel room were the least of my
concerns. I was more preoccupied with the question of whether I would still be alive after my hospital
stint. Because screening tests were limited, there was a chance that I could interact with patients
infected with COVID-19, and I could catch the virus myself. Because I lived with my older brother in
a small apartment, I could pass the virus to him. In a sense, I also feared for his life.
Anyone with fever, cough, or flu-like symptoms, no matter how mild, would be labeled as suspects—
as if it were a crime to be ill. For the first time in my life as a doctor, I thought of patients, not just
28
as people I needed to care for, but also as potential threats I needed to protect myself from. This
redefinition of the doctor-patient dynamic confused me. Self-preservation seemed to me both selfish
and reasonable.
“Do you really have to go?” my brother asked.
I could not not go. I told him being a doctor came with risks. I reassured him, the older sibling who
had to put up with my carelessness, that I would take all the necessary precautions. Over dinner that
he cooked himself, I masked my fears with nonchalance. “If the Lord wants to take me home, then it’s
probably my time to go,” I said. I may have quoted King Solomon’s words in Ecclesiastes 3:2.

I thought of all things, even the minutiae of every day life, in the context of finality. John
Updike, in his novel Gertrude and Claudius wrote, “All mortals are counting the gallows
steps, but how near we have come only God knows.” James wrote, “You do not know
what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a
little time and then vanishes away” (James 4:14). I relished what could turn out to be my
last glass of water, my last shower, my last bowel movement. I thought of prisoners on the
eve of execution, of Jesus Christ in Gethsemane, of martyrs and saints before they were
burned at the stake, of my late father before he breathed his last. What were they thinking?

I was, of course, being overly dramatic.

I felt silly when I woke up at 3 a.m. What was the big deal, anyway? I was still four hours away from
the morning endorsement; after which, my team and I would take over. I prayed for protection. I
comforted myself with the sure promises of God in the Bible. I talked myself out of my fears by
reminding myself that as an intern, I had no qualms entering the isolation room where a patient with
multi-drug resistant tuberculosis was admitted. As a medical resident, I extracted blood from people
with HIV. I gladly took these risks and many more that came with the job, because it was my calling.
To cure sometimes, to relieve often, to comfort always. And there I was—still alive.

29
 Much of my fear came from uncertainty. I did not completely understand how the virus behaved.
There was no cure for it yet. And there was the nearness of death. I could recite the names of my
professors, mentors, colleagues, and friends who had succumbed to it. If it could happen to them,
it could happen to me, too. One particular death hit close to home: the cardiology fellow who
was about my age.

But things will always be uncertain. Not everything can be known. Death will always be a reality for
the living in this mortal coil. We will, at some point, die; we just don’t know when and how.

Even King David, a man of courage, feared for his life when King Saul set out to kill him. He
wrote, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you” (Psalm 56:3). First, he acknowledged his fears;
next; he looked to God. I held on to this verse.
I often ask my friends and colleagues if they share this same fear. “Sure, all the time,” they say.
But they’re more concerned for their families they will be leaving behind. They are among the
bravest, most selfless doctors I know. They see firsthand what the virus can do to the body. Yet
they openly acknowledge these fears and go to work anyway.

30
Topple Down Fear
Eunice Angus
“It would be like sending you to war,” my mom said.
“But your determination is what is keeping me comforted,” my dad said.
As a first year student, there were a lot of things that I needed to consider before going out to fight
against an enemy that I could not see. All volunteers felt the same. But we still did it. We did it because
we had a duty to the nation. We went where we were called.
March 15, 2020 -- the date when the lockdown was declared. The first 2 weeks of being at home,
watching the news, praying, and giving hope felt unreal. I was blessed to be able to stay home and be
with my family. Indeed I was happy being an aunt to my niece and nephew, a daughter to my parents,
and a younger sibling. However, I thought that I could do more. There was this strong feeling, an urge,
a need to be out there serving. Not long after, I saw the call for volunteers for the Bayanihan Na!
Operations Center (BNOC). This was a big leap for me. I had to prepare. There were apprehensions at
first, but finally, my whole family approved. April 7 was my first day at the center. I felt both pain and
excitement. I remember the look my mom gave me before I left – the first challenge I had to overcome.
But receiving the first call and hearing a good heart on the other end of the line made me forget all the
worry and fear. Listening to how donors made face shields for the frontliners, receiving messages of
encouragement, being a witness to how amazing doctors from different fields, professors, interns, and
alumni came together to set up this center despite the risks and dangers -- all of these ignited the heart
of a servant.
Experience gives you the confidence to give more of yourself. It makes you believe that you can pass it
on. Shortly after my stint at the BNOC, I became part of a youth-run initiative called Project Agapay.
We launched a donation drive and fed over 250 street vendors. We provided homeless families with
facemasks, vitamins, and water. One event after the other was made possible because of the experience
gained at the BNOC.
We can and we will make changes. It starts with toppling down fear.

31
 Alvior Hall in the Time of COVID
Anthony Perez
Alvior Hall, the faculty center of the UP College of Medicine, was inaugurated in December 2007 during the homecoming
celebrations of the UP Medical Alumni Society. It was envisioned as a place where faculty members could congregate for
meetings and social gatherings. The project was born out of the generosity of the late Dr. Greg Alvior, a distinguished
alumnus from UPCM Class 1962, who left an illustrious medical career abroad to focus on philanthropy here in the
Philippines. Dr Alvior was an untiring benefactor of the UPCM and the Philippine General Hospital, and he also served
as the chair of the PGH Medical Foundation.
Thirteen years after it was opened, in February of 2020, I entered Alvior Hall for the first time as a moderator for a
UPCM activity. In my capacity as the head of the Department of Surgery’s Minimally Invasive Surgery Program, I was
there to introduce a fellow alumnus six years my junior, who was delivering a lecture on robotic surgery. He had been my
intern when I was the Surgery Chief Resident. After training and honing his craft abroad, he was back in the UP College
of Medicine as a Visiting Associate Professor, and was proposing a student exchange program with the University of
Pennsylvania. I ended the activity by quoting the last lines from UP Naming Mahal -

Malayong lupain
Amin mang marating,
Di rin magbabago ang damdamin

He chided me for rendering him teary-

eyed at the sentiment. I promised him
that upon his return after a few months,
Alvior Hall would be packed with
students, residents and faculty ready to
learn from him once again.

32

Three months have passed, and I now find myself in
front of a computer inside the very room where we held
that robotic surgery lecture. I have five interns with me,
not to listen to a lecture, but sorting through surgical
masks, coveralls, goggles, medications, and a ton of other
supplies.
When the country came under the threat of COVID,
our university readily accepted the challenge. The UP
President and the Chancellor of UP Manila had a vision of
establishing a command center that would accommodate
patient queries and donations. This has come to fruition
as the Bayanihan Na Operations Center (BNOC), and I
have been designated as the head of the Donations Arm.
I expected the appointment to be ministerial at best,
functioning as a back-up for those physically manning
the call center, directing deliveries, listing them down in a
logbook, and sending donors letters of gratitude on behalf
of the UP-PGH community. The system looked simple
-- direct cash donations to PGH Medical Foundation, in-
kind donations to the storage room, and food donations
to PGH personnel-on-duty. The complexity of the task
assumed clarity when cash donations breached a hundred
million, donations came in trucks, and unscheduled food
deliveries enough for the whole hospital filled the dietary
hall.
A more in-depth look into what we were trying to
accomplish made us realize that we needed a system
which would effectively direct donor support to the
intended beneficiaries - our patients and our frontliners.
We needed electronic and physical processes that were
transparent, reproducible, and accessible to decision
makers. It would likewise require a dedicated manpower
complement fully invested in UP’s role in this battle of
our generation.
BNOC showed me what volunteers from all units of the
UP system can achieve when they come together for the
university, the hospital, and the nation. A group from UP
Diliman developed a dashboard that allowed real-time
updates of cash, goods, and food pledged for PGH and the
rest of the university. Another group from UP Industrial
Engineering came up with an inventory system which
documented donations as they arrived, logging them at
the drop off points, and generating reports; they also
made the process flows for the actual donation drop-off
sites, even giving estimates of manpower requirements.
These allowed us to allocate donations more efficiently,
and streamlined the process of matching donors with
beneficiaries. The storage area at the Nurses’ Home was
quickly filled up with donations within the first two days
of operations, but the BNOC Donations Arm was well-
equipped to match the enthusiasm of the donors.
The response of the public to our call for support was
overwhelming. The PGH Medical Foundation came
under a deluge of pledges ranging from 200 pesos to a
million dollars. In less than a month, Alvior Hall and
classrooms at the Paz Mendoza Building were filled wall to
wall with donations. People from all walks of life reached
out to the BNOC call center, and brought all kinds of
goods to Alvior Hall -- makeshift masks and homemade
PPEs, industrial masks, disinfectants, electric repellents,
bicycles and bike lights, cots and mattresses, hepa filters,
33
electric fans, clogs, misting tents, x-ray machines, washing
machines, raincoats, aprons, vegetables and fruits, sacks
of rice, milk, instant arroz caldo. I felt humbled as a first-
hand witness to the generosity of the Filipino. It opened
my eyes to the courage of those in the medical frontlines,
treating patients as their own family, emboldened by the
groundswell of support from strangers likewise caring
for them as kin.
Equally impressive was the selflessness displayed by the
volunteers at the call center, manning the phones from
early morning until late at night, patiently instructing
donors and answering their questions. This batch was
initially composed of interns pulled out from hospital
duty, but they were eventually joined by faculty, by
administrative staff, by volunteers from all over UP,
including security guards and utility workers -- all helping
donors navigate the system so that their donations could
safely reach their destinations.

During the past months, Alvior Hall has ceased to

be a faculty center for leisure and academic meetings.
It has instead become one of the beacons of
volunteerism regarded by PGH frontliners as symbols
of hope. For now, it is the gate through which the
rest of the country expresses gratitude and support.
Dr. Greg Alvior may not have imagined it serving
this purpose, but upon seeing what it has become, he
would have beamed with pride along with the rest of
the UP community.

34
Belonging

Pag-anib
Felice Katrina T. Ranche

Samu’t saring pagkatao

Pinagtagpo ng daluyong
Pinagsanib ng layunin
Ng taimtim na pagtulong

Samu’t saring kawani

Kung mula sa ulap dungawin
Ay pare-parehong alikabok
Galing sa mga bituin

35
 13 Reasons Why I Joined BNOC
(and don’t regret it)
Agnes Grace Y. Angeles
I wanted to list only 11 to celebrate the 11 days I spent at BNOC between April 28 and May 14. But 11 reasons
weren’t enough, so I wrote 13.
1. I was restless to do something during the pandemic. I was already connecting some friends with donors of
PPEs, financial aid, food, etc. But what else could I personally do? I knew that my fellow healthcare workers
were exhausted and dying... and the crisis was far from over. Could I just give them a breather, even through
a small or simple contribution?
2. Life was getting too comfortable for me. During the two months of the lockdown, I was grateful for the
food served at the table, the closeness with family members, and a flexible schedule. But going beyond the
twomonths, I began to feel uneasy inside my comfort zone.
3. I didn’t want fear to decide for me. I was scared at the thought of getting infected and infecting the people
around me. People tried to dissuade me. But if I stayed within the confines of my home, then fear would have
won.
4. It was a decision I took on my knees. Holy Week 2020 was special for us Catholics and Christians because
COVID shut down our churches. We turned our homes and rooms into chapels and churches. It was during
one of my conversations with God that I decided to volunteer.
5. To win over fear, one had to be physically, mentally, and emotionally prepared to fight. I studied. I asked.
I read. I got myself informed. Weeks and days before I volunteered, I took extra care of my sleep, diet, and
exercise. I stocked up on medicines and made sure I practiced the protocols strictly.
6. I lost my fear the first time I stepped out of the house since the lockdown. That was April 28 -- my first day
of duty at BNOC. Every day that I would walk to PGH, I was edified and strengthened by the bravery and
generosity of the security guards, janitors, health care workers, shuttle drivers, and hospital staff. Going home,
I saw them pass in trickles to pray briefly at the PGH Chapel, to ask for physical and spiritual strength.
36
7. Our dental clinics were closed. Practice was limited to emergency procedures. As a dentist and a future public
health professional, to practice means to care. Being at the Patient Query arm of BNOC, I continued my
practice and enhanced it via teleconferencing with medical specialists. It was a concerted problem-solving
effort amongst us in BNOC, so that the people who were calling us for help could feel how much we cared
for them.
8. At BNOC, everyone was just willing to help. I am grateful to all the supervisors who tutored me, did some
troubleshooting, and answered my questions. I gained a new skill. Dentistry is a high-risk profession for
COVID contamination. Should I consider a change of profession, why not the call center?
9. I met new friends at BNOC. The social distancing and short meal breaks were not barriers to creating
relationships. I would not have crossed paths with them had I not volunteered. We still keep in touch even
after our stints at BNOC. We look forward to our reunion.
10. Contact with people who were suffering kept me grounded. When I encounter new difficulties, I recall the
phone conversations at BNOC and the anguish in the callers’ voices. I also remember the beggars I met along
the streets leading to PGH, and I tell myself that I’m in no position to complain. And I say a little prayer for
them.
11. I improved my conversational Filipino. I’m not an “inglesera” but I do run out of the right words. “Good
evening. Thank you for calling the Bayanihan Na Operations Center. This is Agnes, how can I help you?”
Silence. Four prank calls in a row. So I experimented. “Magandang gabi po. Salamat sa inyong pagtawag sa
Bayanihan Na Operations Center. Anong maipaglililingkod ko?” And it worked. People at the other end of
the line felt relaxed enough to express themselves better in Filipino. I exerted effort at the start until the words
came out of me more fluidly.
12. All agents looked forward to the food. Yes, we too were beneficiaries of food donations that were pre-packed
or prepared by the Dietary Service of PGH. This spirit of bayanihan was so contagious that we volunteers also
started to bring and share whatever we could from our homes: chips, gummy bears, wafers, chocolate drinks.
13. I would receive messages from family members and friends:
How are you? Ingat. Oh, cool. I’m praying for your safety. Wow, that’s nice. I’m happy that you can volunteer. Wow, ang galing!

37
 Joining the Volunteers
Jay-V James G. Barit

I am a doctor. But I am no longer in the frontlines.

The early days of the pandemic were a mess — a rapidly increasing number of cases, a rushed quarantine protocol,
the hospital in full capacity, declining patients, a confusing influx of emerging information regarding COVID-19,
precarious supply issues, and an obviously disorganized government response. A lot was happening in those early
weeks. The medical community, at the forefront, called for additional hands as the healthcare system became
overwhelmed.
Sometimes, people were willing to help but they were under certain circumstances that precluded them from doing
so. My friend and I had talked about the idea of volunteering in the hospital. We were both freshly discharged from
dermatology residency, and essentially jobless during the quarantine. We should have been studying for a moved
diplomate examination. Thus, the thought of volunteering at the frontlines crossed our minds. However, we paused
at the idea because we were currently living with our parents who were senior citizens. Additionally, the initial
provisions were too meager, and it seemed like a suicide mission at the time. Going full-gear into the frontlines posed
a risk for our families. We decided to hold back from the idea altogether.
However, it felt a bit unsettling being just there, waiting for something to happen.
Good thing there was such as thing as a “back-line”, and the Bayanihan Na! Operations Center was one of its
beautiful examples. Evolving day-by-day in response to the issues the pandemic posed, the BNOC served a lot of
functions. It started as a hotline whose sole function was to help people screen themselves for COVID-19. Then, it
became a telemedicine center, alongside coordinating donations and so on. It was a truly laudable set-up led by the
university; its organization and leadership, especially with the student managers, amazed me so much. The BNOC
offered a “safer” but equally vital opportunity to help. My friend and I would eventually do a short stint with the
BNOC: initially by informally helping out in the donations center (together with our previous co-resident) and then
eventually getting added to the roster of hotline representatives going on shifts. During those times, we answered
medical inquiries as best we could over the phone. Although we eventually had to leave the volunteer corps for
personal reasons, it was nonetheless a fulfilling experience to be on the other end of the line.

38
39
40
An Opportunity to Serve
Maria Concepcion “Connie” Sison

It was a no-brainer.
If I couldn’t be in the frontlines, then I had to be in the “hotline”.

I joined the UP-PGH Bayanihan Na! Operations Center as a remote consultant during this
pandemic. I got my first call, on my first tour of duty, just a few minutes after 7:00 AM -- the
start of my phone duty! I remember thinking, this hotline meant business! And I’m happy I was
attentive enough, not to mention awake enough, to pick up the call. My phone, notepads, pen and
prescription pad were arranged neatly on my work table every shift during my initial duties. But I
must admit I became more relaxed in the later duties with fewer, sometimes no calls coming in.
And there came my most memorable hotline experience. During one shift, I remember putting
my guard down, and in a “moment of weakness”, I forgot to bring the phone with me to the
restroom. I checked my phone when I got back, and there it was. I could not believe my eyes. A
MISSED CALL. From the hotline. I felt so guilty that I called the hotline and informed those
on duty that I was still, and hopefully will always be, available for calls.
There is an opportunity to help wherever we are -- regardless of our personality, fears, limitations,
or what we are willing to give. Big or small, we can all help. We can do little things with a lot of
heart, and give it our all -- at least to the best of our ability, or memory. I am happy I was given
this privilege and opportunity to help the way I can. I am proud to be in a community of people
with a desire and passion to serve the country in dire times. A lot still has to be done, and there
are non-COVID patients also to be served, but I am hopeful that as long as there are people who
are willing to be used by God to serve others, all will be well.

41
 To Comfort Always
Michelle Ann B. Eala
The Philippine General Hospital (PGH) is a microcosm
of the Philippine healthcare system. When you work
there, you learn about the many cracks in the system: from
the shortage of hospital supplies, medical equipment,
and manpower, to the lack of local health units outside
city centers, to the poverty that prevents Filipinos from
seeking and receiving healthcare. As a PGH intern, it
becomes your job to fill in those cracks. When given a
choice, it’s easier to simply walk away out of exhaustion
and frustration. But when a health crisis strikes, you take
it upon yourself to fill in those cracks to the best of your
abilities.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, my role shifted from
working in the wards and assisting in the operating room,
to helping organize a hospital donations system, training
volunteers from my class to be call agents, and acting as
one of the supervisors at the Bayanihan Na! Operations
Center (BNOC).
As much as I wanted to continue volunteering in the
wards where I could assist the PGH residents and help
cure patients, I understood the hospital restrictions placed
on the interns for our safety. Volunteering at the BNOC
was the best alternative use of my skills and capabilities
as a student doctor during the quarantine.
The tasks seemed mundane, but being on the phone with
people who were worried about contracting COVID
made me realize the truth behind the adage, “To cure
42
sometimes, to relieve often, to comfort always.” The task
of grading a patient’s symptoms as mild, moderate, or
severe, could have easily been delegated to a computer
algorithm and translated to a chatbot or a voice recording.
Answering a query about the transmission and signs and
symptoms of COVID could have been directed to a
Google search. But would that comfort the patients who
were calling? Would a robot truly allay their fear and
panic amidst this health crisis?
We tend to forget how powerful the act of
listening can be. Sometimes it’s all another
person needs – a kind and patient ear
to listen to them.
Being a BNOC volunteer made me realize that at the
end of the day, the ability to prescribe medicines and use
medical technologies is not the be-all and end-all of what
it means to be a physician. With every call we received,
we, the PGH interns, fulfilled the most fundamental role
of every physician: to comfort always. And it was in this
role that we banded together to fill a crack in the system.
With compassionate hearts and listening ears, this was
our little way of responding to the call of the times to
serve the Filipino people.
Making Sense of this Pandemic
Scarlett Mia S. Tabuñar

The deadly Corona virus practically forced all nonessential establishments to shut down and lie low.
The healthcare system, being a vital facility, had to respond in a timely and efficient manner to be
able to perform its formidable role of being frontliners. The decision was difficult for the Philippine
General Hospital to be one of the referral centers for COVID-19, because it implied momentarily
setting aside the needs of non-COVID patients who flocked to its doors on a day-to-day basis. As the
clinical aspects of how the hospital would respond came to fruition, the logistical adjustments at the
backend also took shape. For PGH to function seamlessly, help was needed not just from within, but
also from outside benefactors. The realization that various sectors, however unrelated they may be,
needed to be harnessed in the protracted war against COVID came on the very day this all started.
A generous nation was already waiting, more than willing to lend a hand even before the donations
lines were opened. When the infographic was launched to direct donors where and how to send
donations, the enquiries and calls kept coming on my mobile phone. I was tasked to take the calls,
give information, and direct donors to proper channels, whether for PPEs, equipment, food, services,
or cash. Streamlining the process of donation had to be done as a lynchpin for the whole hospital to
benefit. Different offices, units, departments, and personnel were requested to provide assistance in
the strategic distribution of all donations; these included the Executive Offices, Property and Supply
Division, Dietary Department, UP Health Services, Department of Emergency Medicine, PGH
Medical Foundation, and utility workers. The enlistment of the Bayanihan Na! Operations Center in
handling all enquiries on donations made all efforts centralized and sustainable. In a way, this gave
birth to a more organized back end, making sense of everything despite the uncertainties.

43
 Mga Tauhan sa Social Media
Eric Abalajon
Ang mga nagagalit sa bawat balita
Ang mga natutuwa sa bahay
Ang mga nagtatrabaho sa paglalako sa social media
Ang mga puro kalokohan ang palipas oras
Ang mga lalong kumapit sa dasal
Ang mga nababahala sa datos
Ang mga nawawalan ng pag-asa sa estado, sa bansa
Ang mga muling binabalikan ang mga nakaraang bakasyon
Ang mga kinukunsumo ang sining, tulad ng pelikula, dula, tula, kanta
Ang mga pinangungunahan ang mga paparating na bakasyon
Ang mga nababagot sa bahay
Ang mga nagpapaalala sa iba ng kanilang mukha, sakaling may makalimot
Ang mga tahimik lamang
Ang mga natutuwa sa datos ng gumagaling pero binabalewala ang mga nahahawa
Ang mga hindi hahayaan ang bagong normal
Ang mga matagal nang nawalan ng pag-asa sa estado, sa bansa
Ang mga inaming hinahanap ang routine sa trabaho
Ang mga nagtatrabaho pa rin
Ang mga natutong magluto
Ang mga tahimik na nagluluksa
Ang mga gustong bumalik sa dati
Ang mga nawalan ng trabaho
Ang mga nalulungkot sa bawat balita
Ang mga sinusubukang lumikha ng sining, tulad ng pelikula, dula, tula, kanta
Ang mga natutong nag-eehersisyo
Ang mga umalis, para sa sanidad
Ang mga inaalala ang mga hindi nakikita, para sa dignidad ng lahat

44
45
 Where were you, and what did you do,
when COVID came?
Ivy E. Reside
Many years from now, this generation will look back and remember this pandemic as a milestone in life, much like the
time stamp of the declaration of Martial Law and the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo have been etched in the memory of
Filipinos.

“Where were you when….?”

Many will remember that in the middle of a pandemic, doing nothing at all was everything: stay at home, don’t report
to work, no errands, no celebrations. Sleeping in and lazing around were considered modern-day heroic acts. Working
from home became the norm for many. Shops closed and businesses plummeted. Schools stopped. Unfortunately, for
some, life also stopped. Flashback to eerily empty streets around Metro Manila in sharp contrast to the furious activity
within hospitals hardest-hit with patients. Memories come to mind of alien-looking creatures in full body suits, breathing
through gas masks; these were scenes we thought could be only from the movies, and yet there they were: moving around
and about, from patient to patient. They looked as frightening as the virus they were fighting, and yet their eyes betrayed
the same fear and anxiety as one forced into battle against an unknown enemy. History books will claim that the tragedy
that was COVID-19 claimed many lives, and for those left behind, they were left exclaiming, “…but oh, what a life!”.
What life, indeed?
We could not come together as family. We could not travel and see the world. We could not seek comfort in Church.
A step outside our homes could spell the difference between life and death. For there it was: COVID-19, an invisible
enemy thrust onto a healthcare force already ravaged by outbreaks of measles and dengue, and continually suffering from
inadequate supplies and manpower. It posed an extraordinary challenge to a health system already stretched to its limits.

“…and what did you do when COVID came?”

Looking back, many years from now, perhaps history will not highlight the small miracles in the time of COVID. How

46
neighborhoods bonded over barter trade and community markets. How people simply gave away face masks to those
who had none. How couriers became essential workers. How eager people were to be of help.
And so entered seven ladies: seven friends, all Iskas from different generations, all bound together by that burning and
urgent desire to make a difference, and all armed with an impatience to return to the “old normal” that was so painfully
cut short by COVID-19. Together, and with many others who answered the call to contribute, the small miracle of
Salamat PH Healthcare Heroes was born.
For these seven friends, life with COVID-19 became more meaningful. As the pandemic progressed, a simple plan to
help, hatched in the middle of the night, blossomed into a large-scale fundraising drive to provide meals for frontliners
and to clothe them in PPEs which were in short supply everywhere. Seven ladies, all separated by necessity but digitally
connected 24/7, armed with good hearts, an excellent cause, and bottomless energy, were able to reach almost all corners
of the Philippines with a grateful Salamat PH Healthcare Heroes! emblazoned on donation boxes bound for Benguet, all the
way to Marawi, and many other places in between.
As the rest of Metro Manila worked from home, these remarkable ladies Worked Furiously at Home, making calls,
coordinating, sending messages, singing, sewing, chopping, slicing and cooking their way to more than fifty thousand
meals, hundreds of PPE sets, and other essential items for healthcare workers, hospital facilities and others affected by
the pandemic. They touched the lives of hundreds of healthcare workers, patients and other less fortunate victims of the
pandemic, and yet those they helped and gave hope to never saw any of their faces nor knew any of their names.
And so before history closes the chapter on this pandemic, allow me, as the seventh, to leave this here:

Waya.
Joy.
Francine.
Maedel.
May.
Rina.

The mission is far from over, but so far it’s been a wonderful ride for the soul.

47
48
Realization

Pagtanto
Felice Katrina T. Ranche

Papasok sa bulwagan
May nililok na pamana
Bukas-bisig sa kalangitan
Nakatindig, nakatingala

Sa loob ng bulwagan
Kinupkop ang iyong isipan
Diwa mo’y inalagaan
At pinagyaman ng lipunan

Paglabas ng bulwagan
May tahimik na habilin
Bawat isa’y aasahan
Upang bayan ay lingapin

49
 Our First Zoom SGD:
A Discussion among Volunteer Interns (Part 3)
Justin Bryan D. Maranan

Inspired by this new “normal”, a group of PGH Interns held a Zoom SGD on their
experiences as volunteers during the pandemic. (continued)

Justin: To wrap this up, meron ba kayong mga newfound insights or realizations from
volunteering that you might want to share to future generations of PGH Interns?

Mitch: Recognize the power you have as an intern. Besides theoretical knowledge, we
already have clinical skills to look after our patients; with these in your hands, it’s your
responsibility to use them, especially in times like this. We know PGH is far from perfect,
and PGH is just a microcosm of our public health system. I hope that we don’t stop caring
about either after this pandemic is over.

Ven: There were a lot of things we should have done beforehand. We saw this pandemic
coming, pero I don’t think our government and even PGH adequately prepared for it.
We had to go through a lot of growing pains as a result. I hope we learn our lesson and
become better equipped for any public health crisis that may come. I’m also proud of the
response from our Intern Batch, kasi we really stepped up and gave our support to PGH.

50
Fed: We’ve talked about failures in the health care
system since our first year in med school. Before
the outbreak blew up, some interns were raising
how “the healthcare system shouldn’t be relying
on volunteers to function”. As interns, we’re
pushed into situations (such as this crisis) where
we ask ourselves, “Are we competent enough to
handle this?” I hope that conversations like these
continue after the pandemic. We should keep
pushing for accountability and demanding our
leaders in healthcare to produce their promises
and deliverables.

Mon: The secret is to fall in love, not necessarily

with a person, pero with what you do. If you really
love what you do, everything becomes easier, and
it allows you to give more. Always use our patients
as inspiration. Pag mag-aaral ka, isipin mo may
buhay kang gustong sagipin.

Ino: Trust what you’re doing, and trust PGH will

mold you into the doctor you want to become.
Your experiences here will guide you to do the
right thing when the time comes. We weren’t ready
when this pandemic started; at the same time, we
knew what we had to do, and I think the same
will hold true for future PGH interns. Just don’t
forget the Mission-Vision of our College.
51
52
53
 Rewriting
Johanna Patricia A. Cañal
It’s been a little more than a hundred days of this
quarantine. I write this now because I feel I can do it
objectively now…something I couldn’t do a hundred
days ago.
It was late March when I found myself stubbornly
rewriting my last will and testament. I am an
oncologist and have had a last will and testament for
quite a while. I’m nothing if not practical. But that
particular afternoon, I was editing a document I had
written years ago. The stress had been building for
weeks. It had finally come to a head that summer
day.
2020 was going to be a great year. My husband and
I would celebrate 25 years of marriage, my daughter
and I would go on a girls-only trip to Japan, and my
class would be the silver jubilarians of the College of
Medicine (Yay, Class 1995!). I’d just been promoted
and was excited about the possibility of multiple
publications. By all indications, 2020 would be good.
The weekend before quarantine, my husband and I
were in Batangas (where we have a house), deciding
where we should reside during the Metro Manila
lockdown. I wanted to stay in Batangas because at
least there, there would always be food. My family
54
would not go hungry. No one was sure if there would
be continuous supplies of food in the metro. Besides,
how long would those last? The NCR is the center of
the Philippines, but it does not produce its own food.
We were discussing the points for and against staying
in Batangas but we kind of looked at each other
guiltily and knew. We both worked in health care.
We both worked in hospitals. If this got big, it would
require all hands on deck. We had sworn to this lofty
ideal of health care for Filipinos. We couldn’t NOT
report for work.
But, reporting for work would expose us to COVID
and that was not a little thing. I am atopic and have
asthma, chronic rhinitis and persistent dermatitis. I
am on steroid pulse therapy. My blood sugar levels
are embarrassingly close to diabetic. My blood
pressure hasn’t been normal in years. My husband
has diabetes and hypertension too. We were exactly
the people that COVID would thrive in.
Reporting for work could mean that we would infect
each other, not to mention our children. This hit me
hard. I could die from this and other people could
die because of me.

Should we live apart from the kids? Where
would they live? Where would we live?
Should we ourselves live apart? Could I stand
living apart from my family? Would PPEs
be enough? People were dying! Our friends
were getting sick! We were in the direct line
of fire.
There were tears, raised voices and quiet whispers,
then there was the rewriting of the will and the firm
decision to report for work on Monday. How could I
not? Iska ako. I may have been scared but I was not
blind, and certainly not insensitive.
There has been much introspection over these
hundred days; probably more than I am entitled to in
a year. Countless hours thinking about this situation
didn’t change it but brought us to acceptance faster.
So, we plod on, doing the best we can, keeping
ourselves safe... and hoping that the just-rewritten
will won’t be opened soon.
55
 Rediscovering Purpose
Robyn Rae M. Nepomuceno

With the pandemic changing most of what we were used to in our daily lives, moving forward
by simply trusting our “resilience” was not enough. All that was happening was beyond anyone’s
comfort zone. There were roles we had always played that we could not play anymore. In my
case, it was going to school and gearing up for my career. I missed the chance to go home
before the lockdown, too. I was alone and stuck in Manila, and it was difficult to not know
when I could leave to see my loved ones or if my savings would last for groceries. My usual
coping mechanisms became ineffective as well. On some days, I became restless. On others, a
little helpless. All I could do was stay home and watch as frontliners continued to give their all
in the fight.
Joining the Bayanihan Na! Operations Center gave me the chance to cope. It was volunteer
work that allowed me to help people over the phones. The calls ranged from COVID and non-
COVID medical concerns to donations and non-medical inquiries. Although I found it a bit
daunting at first, as an undergraduate student with limited medical knowledge, it was a different
kind of fulfillment to do all I could for a patient and receive a “thank you” before the end of
the call. Hearing the change in their voices, from panic to relief, made all the effort worth it.
Before I noticed, I was not only educating people but also learning from them. It made me
realize that what we do, no matter how small, is still a contribution to the future we hope for.
Volunteer work showed me that I am not going through these challenging times on my own. I
was surrounded by amazing people, from different ages and backgrounds, who chose to serve
despite the risks present beyond their homes. What started as a needed distraction from the
things that scared me became the perfect opportunity to realign my perspective and remind
me of the motivations I had forgotten.

56
Systems Make What Systems Break
Keisha Rae S. Dela Cerna

Today marks the 105th day since the Community Quarantine began -- when life as we had known
it drastically changed. There is this dreadful and deep-seated disbelief among us Filipinos that we
are suddenly yet systematically being robbed of our lives. We have been continuously bombarded
with unforgiving news of a failing government.
We are faced with a health concern sweeping across all sectors of society. We realize that there
can be no sound systems of health, education, transportation, agriculture and economics when
the very foundations of our ideals begin to crumble beneath our feet. We are stung by sharp and
humbling lessons about our interdependence and our reliance on sound core beliefs. It forces
us to contemplate how we have suddenly found ourselves in such a situation -- hoping that in
understanding the mechanisms of cruelty, we may find the tools to break its chains. There is value
in contrasting how we as individuals are products of our culture, versus how we as individuals
shape that same culture. The former is an inevitable part of our personal growth while the latter is
our duty for collective, societal growth.
The BNOC is one example of such duty. Through it, we learn that in a proactive and engaging
system, people will participate. And it is through participation that we feel empowered to ask if we
can do anything more. We are a small but hopeful community of volunteers who found each other
in the midst of a dilapidated system that is scandalously revealing itself. There is both comfort
and unrest in our midst, and through our renewed sense of collectiveness, we continue to serve.
Denial of fear does not starve it of its power; on the contrary, this paralysis robs us of our own. It
is therefore our solemn duty to realize that we as people shape the systems we belong to, as much
as those systems shape us. It is through this realization that we can begin to undo the oppression
caused by inhumanities we are subjected to. It is through this realization that we can begin to free
ourselves from our chains.

57
 There is no task too big nor too small
Kristine Rachelle Pacete-Estrera

Going home from BNOC, I always felt that the experience had been something easy or light, at least
on most days.
I have always been a service-oriented person. I enjoy doing things for others, I love volunteer work,
and I feel very fulfilled engaging in activities that I know can help others. My love language is also
doing acts of service to my loved ones. Sometimes I would wonder if this was all that I could do during
the pandemic.
But each time I got to observe the lady guard and staff assigned at BNOC making sure that we had
meals round the clock, refilling our stations with alcohol and preparing our room and bathroom at
the beginning of the day...
And the driver of the van who would patiently wait for the volunteers after every shift, and make sure
everyone was brought to work and also brought home safely...
And the unknown food donors who painstakingly wrote personal messages on each food pack
delivered...
And most especially the people taking care of the volunteer team, who went beyond their line of work
just to organize us and make sure we were taken care of day in and day out...
I would realize that tasks did not need to be big to be able to contribute significantly. It was doing
what you were supposed to do with all your heart and soul to help the cause. It did not matter if I was
only able to receive three to four calls a day because when these callers would send even the simplest
‘Thank you’ and “Appreciate your volunteer work” in their viber replies, I knew that I was doing what
my heart was telling me to do -- to continue on with the best of my abilities, and always with a sincere
and caring heart. Then I would go home more fulfilled and full of hope.

58
 Wake-up Call
Korynne Amber C. Garcia
Sign in the log book, disinfect your work station,
open the needed documents, log in your call agent
account, and wait for a call. That was usually the flow
of things in the BNOC.
During my first few days of duty, there weren’t that
many calls, so you could watch a few episodes of
K-Drama or, if you’re feeling productive, review for
school while waiting. It felt as though you were going
through a normal day. But then a loud ringing from
your headset would snap you back into reality. On
the other end of the line would be a distressed caller
asking for help, wondering if they had COVID-19.
Right -- we were in the middle of a pandemic.
As we entered GCQ, the fact that we were in a health
crisis grew more apparent. More calls started coming
in, even regarding non-COVID cases. The moment
I would put down a phone call, another one would
come in. The OPD was still closed so hundreds
of patients couldn’t get the treatment they needed.
They couldn’t afford to go anywhere else since PGH
was the most reliable and cheapest option for most
Filipinos. It was heartbreaking to hear their cries
over the phone after finding out that they couldn’t
go to PGH yet, and that they had to do consultations
online. Most of the patients I encountered had little
to no internet connection where they were. Some of
them didn’t even have phones and they had to borrow
one just to make a call.
More than the physical tiredness of having consecutive
calls, it was emotionally tiring for me to feel like I
couldn’t do much about their situation.
This wasn’t just a wake-up call to our country’s
predicament; it was also a reminder of why I want
to be a medical professional in the first place. I want
to, first and foremost, serve the people, as well as
help in making healthcare accessible, affordable, and
inclusive to as many Filipinos as possible. I want to
be a part of the reform in our healthcare system by
providing more healthcare services at the community
level, especially in the far flung areas. I believe that
the fight for health must start in the community
while tertiary hospitals such as PGH should be our
last frontier in battling diseases. While PGH is truly
a blessing to thousands of Filipinos, we want a future
wherein other healthcare facilities will be at par with
PGH and at the same time accessible and affordable
for everyone.
59
 Sunset
Lourdes Dominique R. Panganiban

Death’s arrival has always been likened to a sunset — how light leaves a person’s eyes to
make way for a lasting night. If so, every new pair aglow is a sunrise, every heartbeat is a
minute, and every body is a day.
It’s fascinating how everyone receives the same one thousand, four hundred and thirty-
six minutes, and spends it like they have one thousand, four hundred and forty; how my
best days can be another’s worst; how my day of firsts can be another’s last.
It’s heartbreaking how we used to spend our days sleeping past dusk to stay up all night;
how I wanted to watch the sunset for the first time upon hearing that it’s yours; how I’m
imprisoned in this windowless room, wishing for once that I could go out, hoping it’s just
cloudy and the sun is still up.

60
61
 Share
Roi Solomon B. Labay
Being a worker and a student during the COVID-19
pandemic was extremely challenging for me. There
were blurs in the boundaries of work, school and
leisure as I tried to juggle all those tasks at home.
Not to mention the scorching heat every afternoon
-- being in quarantine in the middle of this pandemic
was a punishment that I had to endure until all things
settled down. Here I share slice of my life as a worker-
student during this pandemic.
As a worker, it became extremely important to
take care of my clients’ needs, while still protecting
myself from the risk of contracting the disease in
the workplace. There was one time when I got a
call from a client who sounded so helpless while
reporting that he was not able to retrieve the 200
pesos that he had withdrawn. The cash got retracted
by the machine while he was attending to a call
from a family member. Working in a bank, I would
often receive reports like that. During better times,
that would have been nothing special. But with the
ongoing community quarantine, that call could have
been critical; it was possible that the 200 pesos was
his only remaining money, greatly needed so that he
could buy basic necessities for his family. That could
also have been the only time he could go outside
given the strict policies on quarantine measures. It
was important for us to keep the peace of mind of
62
our clients. It really felt heartwarming when I got to
resolve their difficulties. I have always kept in mind
what my Alma Mater taught me -- serve the people.
As a graduate student, keeping my sanity while
complying with school requirements became a top
priority. I had seen hashtags such as #MassPromotion,
#EndSemNow, and #WalangIwanan, which became
trendy in social media. The student body was wary
about the challenges faced by the students. Major
concerns involved the transition to online classes due
to suspension of face-to-face meetings. In my case, it
was difficult to juggle work demands while working
on class projects. I believe that it is important to
prioritize students’ well-being so that they can
continue the search for knowledge, and apply that
knowledge for the betterment of the current situation.
It begs repeating -- being a worker and a student in the
midst of the pandemic was really challenging. It was
challenging in the sense that it brought out the best
in us after all the struggles that we had to go through.
The situation called us to learn new things in new
ways, to be proactive, and to evolve as better human
beings. As we face the new normal in our homes,
school, or even at workplaces, we must learn from
the mistakes of the past and keep moving forward.
 Changing the World
Erica Gabrielle A. Delos Reyes
There have been many times in life when my heart burned
with so much passion because I wanted to change the
world. But because of lack of opportunities and means, I
would often wallow within the four walls of my bedroom,
and pray that the world would turn around on its own.
It was a Sunday morning when I woke up and saw an
email in my inbox, asking me if I was willing to volunteer
for the UP-PGH COVID-19 response team. During that
moment, I was unsure if I really wanted to do it because
of the risks involved. But when I realized that I had the
means to help our frontliners in the simplest way possible,
I immediately said YES.
As the famous television series Grey’s Anatomy says,
It’s a beautiful day to save lives. The COVID-19 pandemic
opened my eyes to many things that I could and could not
change. Being able to be a volunteer with the UP-PGH
Bayanihan! Na Operations Center gave me a glimpse
of how I could change the world in the eyes of other
people and not just from my own perspective. Working
with different kinds of people such as doctors, security
guards, and hospital staff helped me realize that I should
strive to make the world better for the unsung heroes
during this pandemic so that they could live better lives
once this crisis ends.
I was happy to do my part in saving lives by helping our
frontliners receive donations from different sectors of
society. My heart would rejoice whenever I would see our
frontliners use the donations we received on their behalf.
Also, as a UP employee, I promised myself that I would
continue being of service, not only to the university but
also to my country. I could fulfill this by listening to our
callers’ stories, helping them rise by showing compassion.
Someday, when things get better, I would want someone
to listen to me while I share my story, then smile at me
and say that they also would want to help people even in
the simplest way.
I am thankful for the opportunity to help because I
realized the importance of compassion and humanity.
I realized that not everyone is as privileged as I am. I
realized the importance of the simplest things such as
food, water and shelter. I realized that I have the ability
to work at home with a laptop in front of me, the means
to acquire my everyday necessities, and my family who
are safe inside our home. I realized that the little things
that make up our everyday life are the things that help us
continue despite the hardships and trials.
Being of service during this crisis gave me so many
learnings that I will keep for the rest of my life. It is my
hope that this will all end soon so that we may live our
lives normally and apply what we have learned from this
to become better individuals and citizens.
Palaging Para sa Bayan!
63
64
Hope

Pag-asa
Jose V. Tecson, III

Sa paglubog ng araw sa dapithapon

Nababalot ang kalangitan ng kadiliman
Ang gabing tutuusin ay pasimula pa lamang
Inaantabayanan ang hudyat sa silangan
Ang umaga ay parating na
Hudyat ng isang bagong bukas

65
 Bayanihan Spirit
Geraldine Bernadete C.S. Lim
We look to gain more than to give, to accumulate
more than to surrender. In a dog-eat-dog society,
certainly, the fastest way to succeed financially is to
take advantage of the less fortunate, those who live
out Nick Joaquin’s ‘A Heritage of Smallness’. This is
apparent in our politics and in the microcosms of our
society.
And yet, unlike Nick Joaquin’s statement in his
controversial essay that we Filipinos are ‘small
minded’ and do not dare to tackle the complex, we
are here now, enacting a cause as a product of the
crisis at hand, and utilizing our talents and hearts in
service of the Filipino people.
In this new age of modern technology, despite the
toxicity that accompanies its use, social media has
served its purpose in uniting the generous hearts
of private individuals and organizations, and
reawakening the bayanihan spirit.
Simple or grand, the donations in total empower the
bayanihan spirit, and the collective efforts of the men
and women serving at the frontlines.
66
These individuals answered the call for help and
continue to do so as the going gets tougher in these
times. Activists, donors and frontliners alike share in
the mission that no Filipino be left behind, no plight
be left unnoticed, and no challenge left unanswered.
As much as this pandemic has turned our heads from
our many plans and visions, it has revealed that even
with our individual differences and aspirations, we
will heal as one and heed the call to service in our
own ways. In itself, it is comforting to know that we
are capable still of the impossible together, if we all
realize that capacity within us, no matter how little or
how weak we perceive ourselves to be.
In these times, and in the months and years to come,
we, as Filipinos, must take heart, have confidence and
pride, that we survived not only the worst, but also
moved as one so that others in dire situations were
not left behind. Hopefully, we will carve these times
in our hearts, minds and memories, and have faith
in our individual capabilities coming together, that
we are capable of greater things than we have ever
imagined once we decide we can and act accordingly.
Now, more than ever, this is a time for a unified social
action, so that we may collectively, finally, put an end
to the notion of a ‘heritage of smallness’.
67
 Disquiet
Johanna Patricia A. Cañal
No.
This can’t be real. It, in fact, feels surreal. This can’t be the UP Manila that I know…and dare I say, love.
I’ve been walking around this campus for more than 30 years. This is the first time I’ve seen it so… empty. Where did
everybody go? Even during the summers, when the university was on break, there were always people around. Always.
Because of the huge lumbering presence of the Philippine General Hospital, there was always someone there. 24/7 and
365. There has always been human presence in the campus…until now.

How can I be the only one walking from the College of Medicine to PGH? For that matter, how was parking so easy?
There was one guard at the Pedro Gil gate and no other signs of humanity. One cannot help but notice how eerily quiet
it was. No birds, no city sounds, no construction sounds. Strange. Even the usually bustling PGH is nearly silent. No
Dunkin Donuts person. No lines at the ATM. No food concessioners. It was quiet. Well, maybe the better word is
disquiet.

I suspect that if more things were the same, that if fewer things changed, it wouldn’t be so bad. But, as everyone can feel
and see, EVERYTHING has changed. My routines are no longer routine. I haven’t shaken anyone’s hand in months.
I haven’t seen a student face-to-face in the same amount of time. I avoid the elevator like the plague. My hands are dry
from the alcohol that I generously lather on. My face perennially has pimples from the mask I wear every day. It was all
so very somber.
Thank goodness that didn’t last forever. Things got better after six months. There is more noise in the hospital now.
The construction workers are back all over the campus. There are food deliveries. There are more people. Things feel
a little more normal.
Who would have thought that the noise would bring comfort? I don’t usually like noise but didn’t quite realize that the
silence could freak me out as much as it did.
My prayer now: I hope it never happens again.
68
Esperance
Nathaniel Toriano dela Cruz

Someday soon, not too long from today

When this is all over, and we are set free
We’ll have the chance for a proper mourning
For the dead, now ash, we never had to bury

Someday soon, not too long from today

We’ll reclaim spaces abandoned in haste
Wondering why there are so few of us now
We’ll tell ourselves some went to a different place

And while we take stock of what’s left of the world

Some will remember the day they were told –
Someday soon, not too long from today
Is the day you’ll be interred in your very own tomb

And yes, someday soon, not too long from today

Morning will come with the gift of hope renewed
With tears to wash the stains of fear and forlorn
So that those who are not dead are now reborn

- March 27, 2020 -

69
70
 Operative Word: OK
Hannah Melizza A. Paguila
We do not wait for things to go back to normal.
We wait for things to be “OK.”
OK is safe; OK has tinges of hope.
Not too optimistic, just the right amount of warmth.
OK is the midground.
Far from over yet beyond what was.
A starting point of what will be.
Zero comma zero.
A new consciousness.
When what was can never be,
And what is should never have been
OK is the green light to what has been brewing.
We wait for “OK.”
Not “ol korrect” for nothing has been correct.
What was all was just some.
What was correct was just wrong.
Ok is for the undoing, the unlearning.
The dismantling
Of what was thought as “normal.”
What thrives on ignorance, complacency, and disregard
for the downtrodden man is not normal.
Thieves come to steal, kill, and destroy.
In the lull of the night,
It is not only they that thrive.
Those that are unquenchable too.
Flames that simmer, lick, and flicker.
OK is the wick that will light our homes,
That will ignite our hope.
It too steals, kills, and destroys… what reeks of death,
of greed, of corrupt dreams.
Hope tramples fear.
Darkness flees at the touch of the smallest ember.
OK is the eve
OK is the dawn
OK is our call to “carry on.”
We pray for OK.
Until then, listen well.
The rising rhythm will not be quelled.
71
 Empleyado
Genevieve Joyce Saludez

Ako ay empleyadong minsan nang nangamba,

Magka Covid
Malayo sa pamilya
Mawalan ng trabaho, oh no.. Paano na?

Ako ay empleyadong sumubok ng lahat,

Mag tiktok, isa lang nag-like
Magluto, nadoble ang appetite
Nagtanim, pero may kulang pa rin.

Ako ay empleyadong tumigil at nakinig sa tinig,

Bayanihan Na!
Sigaw ng wari mo’y Alpha kid
“She thinks fast and takes the lead.”

Ano pa nga at akong empleyado ay nag volunteer!

Nakatagpo ng kabuluhan
Sa gitna ng walang kasiguraduhan;
Lakas loob na sumunod
Para tumulong at maglingkod.

Sa lider na huwaran, Mabuhay ka!

Patuloy ako na empleyadong natututo,
Nagpapasalamat at buong pusong nagtitiwala
Sa iyong kahanga-hangang kakayahan.

72
 The Light
Abigail Marie O. Lim
In the darkest hours, we must be the light.

Volunteering at the Bayanihan Center has given me so many great experiences. I have had the privilege of realizing we
are not in this fight alone, of being inspired by so many different people, and of finding hope that better days are coming.
We are not in this fight alone.
On my first day of volunteering, I was, honestly, a little nervous. I had watched the tutorial video, read the flow, and
simulated several calls in my head. Even with all this preparation, my palms started to sweat when my first call came. I
answered the call but could not organize my thoughts -- “What’s your number? I mean name, what’s your name?” “Sorry,
how many will you be donating again?” I was terrified the person on the other line would get so irritated they would
just decide against donating. Instead of getting angry, the person laughed! That loosened the tension in my shoulders a
little bit. She proceeded to ask me whether it was my first call. How did she know? Turns out, she was a call center agent
donating on behalf of her co-workers. They wanted to inspire other call center agents to take action and donate whatever
they could to help out in the COVID effort too.
We can help regardless of our status in life.
Aside from organizing donation pledges, I also had the privilege of helping out in the donations hub. I met so many
interesting people there: doctors, med students, teachers, and other support staff. It was so interesting for me to hear
each and every one of their stories. From having to study years and years, to having had to work from a very young age,
these were people from all walks of life! No matter what stage of life they were in, they volunteered with smiles behind
their masks -- to make a difference any little way they could.

If we all find a way to be light during these dark times, then we can also hope that better days are coming.
So in these dark hours, choose to be light.

73
 When You See a Swan
Marc Gregory Y. Yu
When you see a swan, you see a marvel of nature: Slender
neck and pouted beak, gliding across the water with
sleek elegance. For a second, you are lost in the idyll of
a postcard-perfect New England scene, squinting at the
sunlight, spring breeze nipping at your clothes. And for
a second, too, you forget the weight of that now-familiar
churn of dread in your stomach, laced with the prospect of
a changed world and an uncertain future.
Although swans are not exactly a rarity in the US East
Coast, one is hard-pressed to spot these strapping birds
within the concrete layers of Boston. I arrived two years
ago as a newly-minted research fellow at the Joslin Diabetes
Center in Harvard, fresh on the heels of my endocrinology
training at UP-PGH. Those rosy, roaring pre-pandemic
days painted a different picture of promise: I remember
diving headlong, full throttle, into the thick of cutting-
edge science – writing grants, generating new and exciting
data, coordinating patient visits as the seasons blended into
each other. And then, just as suddenly, everything ground
to a halt. Labs were shuttered, offices were boarded, and
people were advised to stay home. The world was on the
cusp of an unprecedented era.
The first few weeks spent in lockdown went by in a blur. I
was tucked away in a house in the suburbs, venturing out
only as a squirrel might forage to prepare for hibernation.
A typical day consisted of rolling over from bed to chair,
blearily hunched over a laptop screen for hours on end,
eyes a little bloodshot from one too many Zoom meetings.
Fueled by a messianic fire to combat a global enemy, I set
74
out to arm myself with as much COVID-19 knowledge as
possible, and even joined the Harvard COVID-19 Health
Literacy Project – an information dissemination campaign
where I helped translate materials into Filipino/Tagalog and
my native Ilonggo/Hiligaynon. But as the weeks stretched,
the creeping weariness soon became inevitable. One longed
to recover any semblance of erstwhile normalcy, at the
same time being unable to shrug off the perpetual anxiety
hovering over the state of family and friends back home.
It was on one of those days that I saw the swans.
To clear my mind, I had made my way one weekend afternoon
down Boston’s Emerald Necklace, a popular swath of
verdant respite slicing through the city, aimlessly trudging
past blossom-laden trees and carpets of dewy grass, past the
ubiquitous ducks and geese, and the occasional wild turkey.
After almost half an hour of gingerly dodging people (social
distancing, thank you very much) in fogged-up glasses and
a breath-dampened mask, I eventually stopped at the edge
of a small lake: There, preening themselves in full view,
was a flock of swans, completely oblivious to the chaos that
lay beyond their pristine territory.
When you see a swan, the old geezers say, you’re in luck.
Hard to imagine, I suppose, when one initially considers
the current situation: the inability to hop on a random
plane in peace; or safely attend an arts performance; or dine
outdoors without undue risk of contracting disease. But
tough times require a total turnaround in perspective: One
now considers the roof over one’s head; the opportunity
to savor three meals a day; employment with a steady
source of income. Despite the more than 50,000 cases that
wrecked Massachusetts at the height of the surge (and the
more than 20,000 that hit the Philippines in a similar time
frame), I and my loved ones were in relatively good health,
perhaps a bit jarred deep down with the state of things but
also none the worse for wear. Standing by the lake, I quietly
murmured a prayer of gratitude, and offered intentions for
those who were not so fortunate.
The English word “swan” lends itself to an Indo-European
root, “swen”, meaning “to sound” or “to sing” – a peculiar
connotation as these majestic creatures appear to be cursed
to a lifetime of silence. In the midst of this crisis, such
a sound, though beautiful, would have probably emerged
in the form of a metaphorical “swan song”, which the
ancients assumed was a swan’s final call before death.
Death that is senseless, and just as equally difficult to think
of when tied to an eerie epidemic of loneliness. One never
really erases the grim picture of a patient dying alone in
an isolated ward, whose last, lingering view of kith and
kin was through the artificially-lit screen of a smartphone.
One never forgets the faces of former professors who have
succumbed to myriad complications, of classmates who
could not properly mourn, and of frontliner colleagues who
have chosen to live in separate homes for fear of infecting
their elderly parents.
Yet I am also stirred to believe that much like the unstated
grace of a swan, the human spirit has always defied the
odds and risen above each seemingly unsurmountable
catastrophe. Akin to the swans’ unseen, furious paddling
underneath the placid surface, we have been relentless in
creating ripples of pioneering clinical care practices, in our
quest for the legendary holy grail of a vaccine. The past
months have seen the incessant outpouring of mankind’s
most redeeming qualities – stranger helping stranger,
charity drives orchestrated everywhere, intangible walls
broken down one by one.
Some days, I still make that kilometer-long trek to the
park, if only to catch a quick glimpse of the swans and their
unabashed regality. The days have been getting kinder, with
warmer weather settling in, establishments reopening, and
case counts dwindling. The road ahead, however, remains
arduous: Second waves have broken out in multiple corners
of the globe, and the virus continues to ravage the most
vulnerable sectors of society. I, for my part, have been
trying to support local supermarkets, grabbing takeout
from small-scale restaurants when I can, and attempting
to find that infinitesimal sliver of acceptance that things
may not readily return to what they were for quite some
time. It’s tough, this process of easing yourself into what
has been coined the “new normal”, and I owe it in part to
the swans for allowing me to preserve even just a moment’s
worth of precious sanity, to experience that transient
reprieve from pervasive helplessness when everything else
has plummeted to the depths of sheer madness.
When you see a swan, you take a deep breath, and
you somehow believe that all in the world will be
right again.
75
 Contributors
Eric Abalajon is a lecturer at the Division of
Humanities, College of Arts and Sciences, UP
Visayas - Miagao. His e-zine of short fiction, Mga
Migranteng Sandali, is distributed by Kasingkasing
Press.
Dr. Agnes Grace Y. Angeles is a dentist and a
volunteer ar the Bayanihan Na! Operations Center.
She is also currently a student, completing her
master’s degree at the UP College of Public Health.
Eunice Angus is a Speech-Language Pathology
student at the University of the Philippines Manila.
She served as a BNOC volunteer.
Dr. Jay-V James Barit is a graduate of the UP
College of Medicine and of the dermatology
residency program of UP-PGH.
Dr. Regina P. Berba is an internist who
subspecializes in Infectious Diseases. She is a
tireless advocate of vaccination, and heads the
Hospital Infection Control Unit of the Philippine
General Hospital.
76
Ronneil S. Bilbao is currently an intern of the
Philippine General Hospital, who served as a
volunteer at the BNOC Donations Arm during the
COVID-19 pandemic. He believes in inclusive social
justice and is currently interested in health policy.
Dr. Lance Catedral finished his Internal Medicine
and Medical Oncology training at the UP-Philippine
General Hospital in 2020. Some of his creative non-
fiction pieces are published in the Cotabato Literary
Journal and in From the Eyes of a Healer: An Antholog y
of Medical Anecdotes.
Dr. Anthony Geronimo H. Cordero. Mu Sigma
Phi Batch 1992. A member of UPCM Class 1992,
he is the Director of the UP Manila Community
Health and Development Program. He is also the
Chair of the UPCM Return Service Obligation
Program.
Keisha Rae S. Dela Cerna is an alumna of the UP
College of Pharmacy, and a BNOC volunteer.
Nathaniel Toriano Dela Cruz is a fellow of the
3rd Cavite Young Writers Workshop, whose interests
lie in Philippine history and Philippine mythology.
Erica Gabrielle A. Delos Reyes is a registered Hazel S. Lapitan is currently a medical intern at
psychometrician, with a Bachelor of Science degree PGH, Batch 2021. She is also an active member of
in Psychology from the Polytechnic University the Mu Sigma Phi Sorority and UP MedRhythmics.
of the Philippines. She is a University Research
Abigail Marie O. Lim is a student who learned
Associate at the UP Manila Center for Gender and
the importance of giving back to society from her
Women Studies.
early exposure to PGH, involvement in outreach
Dr. Michelle Ann B. Eala is President of UPCM programs, and development in UP and its womens’
Class 2020, and a track and field athlete, winning volleyball varsity.
back-to-back championships in the Palarong
Geraldine Bernadete C.S. Lim is currently
Medisina. She was recognized as one of the Ten
employed as a project manager, who hopes to earn
Outstanding Medical Students by the APMC-
a master’s degree in public health research and
Student Network, and volunteered to stay in PGH
development. She is a certified cat person.
to help set up the UP Bayanihan Hotline.
Laureen Theresa Lioanag works at the University
Korynne Amber C. Garcia is a BS Physical
of the Philippines Diliman, under the Office of the
Therapy student from the UP Manila College of
Vice Chancellor for Academic Affairs.
Allied Medical Professions. She volunteered at the
BNOC to help during the pandemic. Geremiah Edison Daniel C. Llanes is currently
a medical intern of the Philippine General Hospital,
Paul Kenny L. Ko is currently an intern at PGH,
Batch 2021. He is a graduate of the INTARMED
Batch 2021. He dabbles in writing poems, and in
program, and is also the current choirmaster of the
digital and traditional art media.
UP Medicine Choir.
Roi Solomon B. Labay is a graduate student
Sydney M. Madlangsakay is currently a medical
from the UP School of Statistics. He is also a
intern at PGH, Batch 2021. She likes writing poems
Senior Information Analyst at the China Banking
and playing the ukelele during her free time.
Corporation.

77
Dr. Justin Bryan D. Maranan is a recent graduate
of the UP College of Medicine (Class 2020) who
served as an intern of PGH at the onset of the
COVID-19 pandemic. He is also a literary enthusiast
who hopes to read more books (and perhaps even
write one) in the future - if he ever finds the time.
Jhio Jan A. Navarro is a BA Psychology student
at the UP Visayas in Miag-ao. His poems have
been published in Bulatlat, Revolt Magazine, the
Hong-Kong based Voice and Verse Magazine, and the
Philippines Graphic.
Robyn Rae M. Nepomuceno volunteered at
the Bayanihan Na! Operations Center during the
pandemic. She is a student of the UP Manila College
of Allied Medical Professions.
Dr. Leilanie A. Nicodemus is the Director of the
UP Manila Center for Gender and Women Studies.
She led the volunteer engagement efforts at the
Bayanihan Na! Operations Center.
Dr. Kristine Rachelle Pacete-Estrera is a
graduate of UPCD Batch 1998, and has been
teaching in for 7 years, under the UP Department
of Community Dentistry. She is a happy mother of
2 teenagers and is an active servant of God with her
husband in their Catholic community.
78
Dr. Carmencita D. Padilla is a pediatrician,
geneticist, researcher, administrator and the
indefatigable 3rd-term chancellor of UP Manila.
The BNOC was her brainchild.
Hannah Melizza A. Paguila is a Program
Producer/Anchor/Writer III at DZUP 1602.
She finished BA Broadcast Communication at
UP Diliman, and was a member of the editorial
board of Tinig ng Plaridel, the UP College of Mass
Communication’s student publication.
Lourdes Dominique R. Panganiban is a
freshman from the University of the Philippines
Los Baños.
Dr. Anthony Perez is a UPCM Professor and
a general surgeon specializing in Hepatobiliary
and Pancreatic Surgery, advanced laparoscopic
and robotic surgery. He was part of the core team
designated by the UP President and the UPM
Chancellor to head the BNOC Donations Arm,
and concurrently heads the Operating Room
Management Team (ORMAT) and the Surgical
Services Resumption Committee of the PGH
COVID Crisis Management team.
Dr. Elvie Victonette B. Razon-Gonzalez is a
gastroenterologist and epidemiologist residing
in Iloilo City. She is a wife and mother of four
children, and loves to read books, write poetry and
analyze statistical data to unwind.
Dr. Ivy E. Reside finished BS Zoology at UP
Diliman, and took her Internal Medicine residency
and Pulmonary Medicine fellowship training at
the UP-PGH. Her volunteer group, Salamat PH
Healthcare Heroes, provided meals to healthcare
workers and AFP troops during the pandemic.
Genevieve Joyce Saludez works as a teacher at the
UP Manila Creche. She worked as a volunteer at the
Bayanihan Na! Operations Center.
Dr. Maria Concepcion “Connie” Sison is a
pediatric cardiologist who continued to serve
during the pandemic, initially as part of the UP-
PGH Bayanihan Hotliners, then as one of service
consultants for the division of Pediatric Cardiology.
She also played an active role in redesigning
pharmacology courses (as part of the faculty of the
Department of Pharmacology and Toxicology), for
remote learning of UPCM students.
Dr. Scarlett Mia S. Tabuñar is an Associate
Professor from the Department of Emergency
Medicine, and served as the Overall Head of the
Bayanihan Na! Operations Center.
Dr Diana Tamondong-Lachica is an Associate
Professor from the Division of Adult Medicine, UP
PGH Department of Medicine. She is currently the
Patient Query Head of the UP-PGH Bayanihan Na!
Operations Center Hotline 155-200, Vice-Chair of
the PGH Telemedicine Committee, and a member
of the UP Manila Telehealth Committee.
Alexa Tanchuling is a graduate of BS Physical
Therapy in UP Manila CAMP. She has a special
interest in pediatrics and is an advocate of lifelong
learning.
Joanna V. Toralba is an active faculty member
of the UP College of Pharmacy. With most of her
laboratory research work temporarily halted by the
pandemic, she has since rendered her time as the
assistant head of the volunteer engagement team of
BNOC.
Dr. Ino Paul R. Villacastin belongs to the UP
College of Medicine Class of 2020. He was one of
the core intern volunteers for the Bayanihan Na!
Operations Center.
Dr. Marc Gregory Y. Yu is currently an American
Diabetes Association (ADA) Research Fellow at the
Joslin Diabetes Center in Harvard Medical School.
He received a Palanca Award for the Kabataan
Essay in 2004 and a Philippines Graphic-Nick
Joaquin Literary Award for Fiction in 2010.
79
 Editors

Dr. Felice Katrina T. Ranche is an ophthalmologist and educator, who

strives for a balance between the sciences and the humanities. During
the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, she served as a volunteer at the
Bayanihan Na! Operations Center.
Dr. Jose V. Tecson, III is a member of UP College of Medicine Class
of 1999. An ophthalmologist by training, he is currently an Associate
Professor of the UPCM Department of Anatomy.
Dr. Johanna Patricia A. Cañal: Full-time radiologist, radiation oncologist,
professor, administrator and researcher. Part-time writer, calligrapher,
photographer and crafts enthusiast.
Jed Zachary A. Golez is currently a medical student at the UP College of
Medicine. During the COVID-19 pandemic, he was Co-Head of the Mu
Relief COVID Operations.
Dr. Tammy L. Dela Rosa is a member of UP College of Medicine Class
of 1994. He is currently an Associate Professor at the UPCM Department
of Biochemistry and Molecular Biology, and faculty of the Department of
Orthopedics.

80
Acknowledgments

This volume was a joint project of the Bayanihan Na! Operations Center and
the Mu Sigma Phi Fraternity and Sorority, in cooperation with Dr. Alvin
Caballes and the team behind the PGH Human Spirit Project.
The BNOC team recognizes the efforts of the four core interns who helped
set up the call center operations -- Ino Paul Villacastin, Nick Tan, Michelle
Ann Eala, and Romano Agustin Pangan.
The Mu Sigma Phi team is grateful for the contributions of faculty
and students alike, with particular thanks going to Joseph Ranche, Jen
Montemayor, Yasmin Salces, Justine Uy, Fem dela Cruz, Roie Urgena, and all
those who made this book possible.
All photographs in this volume were courtesy of Drs. Anthony Perez,
Nathalea De Leon, Mariale Yasmin Salces, John Ruben Valeza, and Ino Paul
Villacastin.
Baybayin consultations for all three volumes in this publication set were
guided by Mr. Jotham Angelo Rodriguez and Mr. Howie Severino.

81