"Sometimes, the Hardest Part of Medicine Is the Patient."

 "Sometimes, the Hardest Part of Medicine Is the Patient."

by:

Virgilio F. De leon Jr. MD

I have been involved in the medical and paramedical fields for more than two decades—as a first aider, lecturer, and doctor.

Throughout my career, I have encountered countless patients, each with different personalities, beliefs, and attitudes toward their health. Some are easy to convince when it comes to taking care of themselves. Others require more explanation. And then there are those who resist medical advice, either directly or indirectly.

When I was starting out, these patients frustrated me. In my mind, who would willingly argue against something that could protect their health or even save their life?

Over the years, however, I have come to recognize three particularly difficult types of patients.

1. The Intellectual

Some people rationalize everything you tell them. They analyze, debate, and sometimes use their own reasoning to dismiss sound medical advice.

I once had a patient who proudly told me that he no longer monitored his blood pressure because he did not experience any symptoms whenever his blood pressure increased.

Knowing that both of his parents had a history of heart disease—and that one of them had died of cardiac arrest—I was concerned. So I asked him:

“How would you know your blood pressure pattern if you do not check it regularly?”

Some people become so accustomed to having high blood pressure that they no longer experience noticeable symptoms. But the absence of symptoms does not mean the condition is harmless. Their bodies—and particularly their hearts, brains, and kidneys—may still be sustaining damage.

His response was essentially that he was still alive, so there could not be much of a problem.

I wanted to argue further, but even a doctor’s patience has its limits.

2. The Spiritual

A relative of mine once stopped taking his medications because he believed that God would take care of him and heal him.

I grew up in the Church. I believe in the power of prayer, and I believe that healing can come through faith and blessings.

However, as a doctor, I cannot condone the decision to stop essential medications simply because of one’s religious beliefs. I have argued that medicines can also be blessings from God. The doctors who prescribe them, the researchers who develop them, and the people who care for us can all be instruments of that same grace.

Unfortunately, my relative eventually died after suffering a second stroke.

Was the outcome inevitable? I honestly cannot say. But I cannot help wondering whether stopping his medications contributed to what happened.

I hope he is at peace.

3. The Superstitious

We once had a helper who complained of a persistent cough. She had asthma, and despite the explanations, treatment, and medications we prescribed and paid for, she was not improving.

Eventually, we discovered that she had not been taking her medications. She was not using her nebulizer, either.

Instead, she insisted that the cause of her persistent cough was an elemental living in our laundry area.

According to her, this elemental was causing her harm, and no medicine I prescribed could possibly make her better.

Now, I do believe in elementals and in other things that go bump in the night. I have seen unusual things since I was a child. But because of that, I was also fairly certain that there was no such presence in our laundry area.

I have been to hospitals, graveyards, and deserted places where such things are said to abound. Our laundry area—and the surroundings of our home—were not among them.

I hope she eventually found an answer through the local healer in her province. Unfortunately, I had no answer for her here.

Over time, I have come to realize that people carry deeply rooted beliefs about their health. Some rely too heavily on their own reasoning. Others place all their trust in faith. Some turn to superstition when medicine fails to produce the results they expect.

As a doctor, it is not always my job to change their minds. My responsibility is to explain their condition, present the available options, and help them understand the possible consequences of their decisions.

In the end, they still have the right to choose.

And sometimes, that is the hardest part of medicine.

You can prescribe treatment. You can explain the risks. You can offer guidance.

But you cannot always convince someone to accept the help that might save them.

"You Can Buy a Car. You Can’t Buy Back a Minute."

 "You Can Buy a Car. You Can’t Buy Back a Minute."

by:

Virgilio F. De leon Jr. MD

Recently, a viral video showed a fire truck hitting a black car that had been double-parked on a narrow street while the truck was responding to a fire.

While many people focused on the fire truck hitting the car, there was much more to see in the longer video. It showed how several streets in Makati—streets that should serve as alternative routes when the main roads are congested—have effectively been taken over by double-parked vehicles.

And it wasn’t just cars. Motorcycles, e-bikes, food carts, and even a barangay tent were occupying valuable road space. As the fire trucks tried to pass, these obstructions slowed them down while they were responding to an emergency.

Reports indicated that the fire trucks arrived at the scene within a minute. I can already imagine people arguing online that the parked vehicles did not really delay them or that the delay was insignificant.

But consider this:

How long does it take for a fire to grow hot enough to consume more of an enclosed structure? How long before it reaches a gasul tank and causes an explosion? What if your loved ones were trapped inside that burning building—and that lost minute could have made the difference between life and death?

People get angry when their cars are towed. They shout at enforcers during clearing operations. Even worse, there are barangays where residents treat public streets as their personal parking spaces.

I do not know how local authorities deal with these situations, but something clearly needs to be done.

People buy cars without making sure they have proper parking spaces. Instead, they say:

“Puwede na sa tapat ’yan.”

“Wala naman dumadaan dito masyado.”

“Linggo naman.”

“Weekend naman.”

Until the road is suddenly needed for an emergency—and everyone is forced to watch as the people trying to save lives struggle to get through.

A road is not merely a place to leave your vehicle. It is a passageway for ambulances, police cars, rescue teams, and fire trucks. It may be the only route available to someone whose life is in danger.

So, please, think twice before blocking it.

You can buy a car. You can replace a damaged vehicle. You can pay for towing.

But you cannot buy back a minute that might have saved someone’s life.

And I sincerely hope that when the time comes, none of the people who insist on blocking these roads will ever need saving themselves—because no one can blame the firefighters for failing to reach a fire that they were prevented from accessing in the first place.

"Emrakul Is Back—and Apparently She Has a Job to Do."

"Emrakul Is Back—and Apparently She Has a Job to Do."

by:

Virgilio F. De leon Jr. MD

When the current Reality Fracture lore videos featured a conversation between Emrakul, appearing in human form, and Tam, Jace's creation, many MTG fans immediately began speculating that Emrakul would be making an appearance in the upcoming set.

That speculation became even more interesting when the conversation revealed something about the role of the Eldrazi—specifically, our favorite spaghetti monster.

Apparently, the Eldrazi's purpose is to consume certain existences before they can fully become reality.

So when this card was finally revealed, it essentially confirmed what many of us had already suspected:

A new version of Emrakul!

Behold:

Emrakul, the Exigent Doom!

Costing a whopping 10 colorless mana for a 12/12 creature with flying and trample, Emrakul has apparently lost her old powers of annihilation.

But she has gained something else.

A lot of something else.

When you cast her, you get to untap all your lands.

That ability is absolutely ridiculous in a dedicated Eldrazi deck.

If you have enough mana to cast Emrakul, suddenly all those lands are available again. This means you could potentially cast another Eldrazi Titan on the same turn—or simply have enough mana left over to deploy whatever you need to end the game.

It's the kind of ability that makes you look at your mana and say, Wait… I'm not done yet?

Her ward ability, requiring you to sacrifice three permanents, isn't exactly a bad deal either.

Sure, sacrificing three permanents is painful.

But if your opponent wants to get rid of a 12/12 flying, trampling Emrakul, they're going to have to make you pay for it.

And considering what Emrakul has been through, she does seem surprisingly squishy compared to some of her previous incarnations.

Maybe spending all those years trapped inside that moon above Innistrad weakened her.

Maybe she just needed to stretch her tentacles.

Who knows?

Then we get to one of the most interesting parts of the card.

For three mana, you can exile Emrakul from your hand and have a target land gain the ability to tap for two colorless mana.

In other words, the land basically becomes an Ancient Tomb without the pain.

And here's the really interesting part:

You can still cast Emrakul while she remains exiled.

So instead of simply sitting in your hand as a gigantic 10-mana creature, she can actually contribute to your game plan much earlier.

You can exile her, turn one of your lands into a two-mana-producing monster, and use that extra mana to accelerate your board.

Maybe you cast a two-mana mana rock.

Maybe you ramp into your bigger Eldrazi.

Or maybe you simply start preparing for the turn when Emrakul finally decides that reality has become sufficiently annoying for her to intervene personally.

Either way, she gives you something to do with her before you can actually afford to cast her.

And that's what makes this version of Emrakul particularly interesting to me.

She isn't simply a gigantic creature waiting at the top of your mana curve.

She's part of your ramp plan.

She's part of your late-game payoff.

And once you finally cast her, she gives you all your mana back so you can potentially do something even more absurd.

All in all, Emrakul emerging from the moon was a very pleasant surprise.

The bigger question is what she actually intends to do once she's here.

She might end up consuming the Echoverse, serving as an unexpected instrument in thwarting Jace's plans.

Or she might very well become the thing that brings the multiverse to an end.

Again…

Who knows?

She might be in a mood.

And honestly, who could blame her?

She's been cooped up inside a tiny moon for years.

Maybe after all that time, Emrakul just wants to stretch her tentacles, eat a little reality, and remind everyone exactly why we were afraid of her in the first place.

"An Open Letter to Those Who Naruto Run in Pedestrian Crossings in BGC."

 "An Open Letter to Those Who Naruto Run in Pedestrian Crossings in BGC."

by:

Virgilio F. De leon Jr. MD

Dear People Who Naruto Run Across Pedestrian Crossings,

I have always been acutely aware that there are certain pedestrian crossings where drivers need to slow down, stop, and give pedestrians the right of way.

And then there are the pedestrian crossings where people apparently decide that the proper response to an oncoming vehicle is to Naruto run for their lives.

You know who you are.

If you see a vehicle speeding toward a pedestrian crossing, the natural instinct should be to stop, wait, and let it pass. Unfortunately, some people seem to have a completely different survival strategy: Run across and hope for the best.

Sometimes it works.

The driver sees you from a distance. They slow down. They stop. Everyone gets to wherever they are going.

Congratulations.

But all it takes is one distracted driver. One person looking at their phone. One driver fiddling with the infotainment system. One person who simply doesn't see you in time.

You don't get a second chance to discover whether your strategy was statistically sound.

So please: slow down, stop, look, and listen.

You were probably taught this when you were a child. It remains surprisingly good advice even after you've grown up and started commuting around BGC.

And please understand this: a pedestrian crossing is not a magical force field.

The white stripes painted across the road do not stop a vehicle from moving. They do not create an invisible wall around you. They certainly will not stop an 18-wheeler truck from turning you into the least successful pedestrian of the day if you happen to run directly into its path.

And then there is the other behavior I genuinely don't understand:

Why do you start running the moment one car stops?

One vehicle has stopped.

Wonderful.

But you are not crossing a single-lane road.

There are still several other lanes between you and the other side.

Why do you suddenly assume that every vehicle in every other lane has also seen you, stopped for you, and agreed to participate in your carefully choreographed attempt at survival?

BGC has its fair share of kamote riders and drivers who seem to believe traffic rules are merely suggestions. Some will squeeze through gaps, accelerate when they shouldn't, or come flying through a lane that you thought was clear.

And when you are already running across the road, you have given yourself very little time to react.

I have already seen enough accidents involving pedestrians who took unnecessary risks at crossings.

Another one always seems inevitable.

And I really don't want to see it happen.

So, to everyone who Naruto runs across pedestrian crossings in BGC:

You don't get bonus points for crossing quickly.

You don't have to prove that you can beat traffic.

You don't have to trust that every driver has seen you.

You don't have to sprint simply because one car has stopped.

Just stop.

Look.

Make sure the other lanes are clear.

Then cross.

There is nothing cowardly about waiting a few extra seconds to make sure you get to the other side in one piece.

The goal of a pedestrian crossing is to get you safely across the road—not to determine whether you have the reflexes of an anime protagonist.

"Eternal FOMO: The Enchantment That Never Ends."

 

"Eternal FOMO: The Enchantment That Never Ends."

by:

Virgilio F. De leon Jr. MD

I imagine that sometime back in 2020, at Wizards of the Coast headquarters, they gathered everyone who opposed the proposed Secret Lairs and Universes Beyond crossovers into one room and sacrificed them.

Then, using all that newly generated mana, they cast a Global Enchantment.

An enchantment that still affects us to this very day.

Eternal FOMO.

Yes. Wizards of the Coast has permanently enchanted all of us with the fear of missing out.

They bombard us with an endless cycle of previews, spoilers, reveals, Secret Lairs, bonus sheets, and announcements until we can barely think straight.

Surely you need to buy this set.

After all, look at this card.

And this one.

And this one.

And then the influencers arrive.

“This set is a banger!”

And just like that, the spell grows stronger.

Those who resist are eventually drowned beneath a deluge of new cards. Sometimes, Wizards even manages to hit that exact obscure creature type you have been waiting years to see supported.

You waited forever for a Lord for your favorite tribe?

Congratulations.

Now you have twelve cards for it.

Heck, Spiders and Turtles barely had a Lord before, and now we are practically up to our necks in Spiders and Turtles.

Eternal FOMO is real. And it is here to stay.

Case in point: a friend of mine recently bought a Hobbit Bundle.

He had barely opened it.

He probably hadn't even finished admiring what he pulled.

And before he could properly enjoy his haul, here comes the deluge of Reality Fracture spoilers, bringing with it another wave of cards that suddenly feel like absolute must-haves.

And guess what?

Once you finally buy your Reality Fracture products, the next set will already be staring you in the face.

Before you have even received your Reality Fracture cards.

Then add all the Secret Lairs.

Then add the cards already being spoiled for sets coming in 2027.

Then add whatever else Wizards has decided we absolutely, positively need to know about right now.

There is no escape.

Eternal FOMO will never die.

And MTG players, despite our supposedly strong wills, have only two choices:

Quit...

or succumb.

We complain about the endless release schedule.

We complain about the constant spoilers.

We complain about our wallets.

And then Wizards shows us one more card.

“But look at this one.”

And suddenly we're checking preorders.

Nice move, WotC.

Nice move indeed.

"3 Reasons Why Proxying MTG Cards Now Makes Sense."

 "3 Reasons Why Proxying MTG Cards Now Makes Sense."

by:

Virgilio F. De Leon Jr., MD

If you have been following Magic: The Gathering for the past six years, then you are probably familiar with two things that have fundamentally changed the way we look at the game: Universes Beyond and Secret Lairs.

One is Wizards of the Coast's attempt to bring other fan bases into Magic by taking existing intellectual properties and turning them into Magic cards. Hence, Universes Beyond.

Secret Lair, on the other hand, is Wizards' way of selling directly to players. You get reprints, alternate art, and sometimes mechanically unique cards that don't necessarily follow the traditional aesthetic of a normal Magic set.

And at this point, almost everything seems to be on the table.

All but the Reserved List, apparently.

So here are three reasons why proxying MTG cards now makes perfect sense.

1. If Anything Can Be Anything, Then Art Is an Open Frontier

If you can convince yourself that a circle is a Sol Ring, then apparently any circle can now be a Sol Ring.

And if you've looked at enough Secret Lairs, you know just how far Wizards is willing to stretch the visual identity of Magic cards.

Don't get me wrong. A lot of these different art styles are fantastic. But they have also opened the door to something else:

Why not make the cards look exactly the way you want them to look?

This is where proxying becomes particularly fun.

I have, for example, an All-Hinata deck.

It is built around Hinata, Dawn-Crowned from Kamigawa. Of course, that Hinata is a Kirin.

The Hinata I actually like, however, is the Hinata who existed long before she became Naruto's wife.

So naturally, the deck features her.

Even the lands are themed around the world of Naruto.

Maybe someday we will get a Naruto x Magic: The Gathering Universes Beyond product. It wouldn't even surprise me anymore.

But I seriously doubt Wizards would ever make the exact Hinata-themed cards I have in my proxy deck.

For one thing, let's just say my version is a little more... niche.

And there certainly isn't going to be anything remotely resembling that particular interpretation in an official Universes Beyond product.

But that's precisely the point.

If anything can be anything now, why limit yourself to what Wizards decides to print?

Proxying allows you to take a card's mechanical identity and build an entirely different visual identity around it.

You can make it funny.

You can make it obscure.

You can make it personal.

You can even make it so specific that you are probably the only person in the world who understands why the card looks the way it does.

And honestly?

That's part of the fun.

2. The Price of Printing Can Beat the Price of the Real Thing

The first time I had cards proxied, I understood the concept very differently.

I was making proxies of genuinely expensive cards—things like Grim Monolith and the Moxen.

That made sense to me.

What I didn't understand was why people would proxy cards worth only a few cents.

Why would you spend money printing a common card when you could simply buy the common?

The card already exists.

Just buy it.

But I digress.

The reality is that even relatively inexpensive Magic cards aren't actually free.

Take something like a heavily reprinted shock land. Its price may have fallen dramatically compared to its original versions, but it is still not zero.

And if what you actually want is to play the card rather than own the collectible object, then the economics can start looking very different.

A proxy can cost a fraction of the actual card.

Now, obviously, this doesn't mean you should represent a proxy as an authentic card when selling or trading. That's simply dishonest.

But for casual play, testing decks, experimentation, and personal collections, the calculation becomes much simpler:

If I can play the same game without spending the same amount of money, why wouldn't I?

Especially when the alternative is spending hundreds—or even thousands—of pesos on a card simply because it has become expensive on the secondary market.

At some point, you're no longer paying for the game.

You're paying for scarcity.

And those are two very different things.

3. Savoring the Flavor

Nothing beats an original Magic card.

I'll say that.

There is something special about opening an actual card, feeling it in your hand, seeing the original artwork, and knowing that it is part of Magic's history.

But there is another kind of satisfaction that comes from building a deck exactly the way you imagined it.

If you're the kind of person who wants your lands to match the plane your Commander comes from, you already know how difficult completing an EDH deck can become.

Maybe your Commander is from Kamigawa.

So naturally, you want Kamigawa lands.

Maybe your deck is based on a specific character.

Now you want every basic land to reflect that character.

Maybe the deck has a particular story, joke, aesthetic, or fandom behind it.

And suddenly you're hunting for cards that Wizards may never print.

That's where proxies become incredibly liberating.

You can simply make them.

Instead of asking:

"What has Wizards printed?"

you can ask:

"What do I want my deck to look like?"

And that is a very different question.

For years, players have been limited by what Wizards chooses to print and, increasingly, by how much those cards cost.

Proxying removes that limitation.

It lets you experiment.

It lets you build the deck you actually want to play.

It lets you create something that could never exist as an official product.

And let's be honest: Wizards itself has pushed Magic further and further toward the idea that almost anything can become a Magic card.

When Magic 30 tried to pass off Alpha cards as a premium fan-service product, the message was pretty clear:

The line between Magic card, collectible, crossover, alternate art, and novelty has become increasingly blurry.

So why shouldn't players take advantage of that same creative freedom?

The Printer Equalizes Us All

I'm not saying proxies replace real Magic cards.

They don't.

There will always be something special about owning the real thing.

What I'm saying is that proxies give players something that Magic has increasingly made difficult to obtain:

creative freedom without an enormous price tag.

So brew to your heart's content.

Build the weird deck.

Make the ridiculous alternate art.

Turn that obscure anime character into your Commander.

Put whatever lands you want into the deck.

Create the card that Wizards will probably never make.

And don't worry too much about the elitists who insist that the only legitimate way to enjoy the game is to spend more money on it.

Because at the end of the day, we're still playing the same game.

And when it comes to making the Magic card you want?

The printer equalizes us all.

"The Cards We Are Dealt: Refusing to Fold"

 "The Cards We Are Dealt: Refusing to Fold"

by:

Virgilio F. De leon Jr.MD

If you view life through a certain lens, there will never be a shortage of bad things going on.

Rains that seem to have never stopped for a month. You can probably count on your fingers the number of times the sun has actually come out.

Floodwaters that have affected work, businesses, and education, as well as the lives of those who have been badly affected by nonexistent or poorly implemented flood-control projects.

Manila now declaring a leptospirosis outbreak after the threshold for the disease has been reached, while hospitals are already struggling with the number of patients.

The ongoing increase in gas prices that trickles down to everything—from passenger fares to the prices of basic goods and services.

The inability to pass an ₱85 increase that could at least provide some relief from the rising cost of living.

Nothing seems to be going the way of the Pinoy.

And yet, we are known for two things: our humor and our resiliency.

So what do we do?

Do we blame the government again and again?

Do we blame ourselves for the choices we have made?

The truth is probably somewhere in between.

Sure, the odds are stacked against us. We can go to the streets and shout as much as we want, and I am not discounting the power of protest or the need for change.

But I have always believed that if you want change to happen, it should also start at home.

I cannot offer a magical solution to everything that is happening around us. The government will not always save you. Nature certainly will not save you. And at the end of the day, what you have is yourself and your family, if you have one.

All I am saying is that we should have the resolve to better ourselves first.

Work.

Hustle.

Learn.

Adapt.

Overcome whatever part of the stacked deck is within our power to overcome.

Low education.

Walang padrino.

Walang pambayad ng placement.

No qualifications.

Stacked odds.

And even more hurdles waiting around the corner.

One mayor recently suggested building a second floor as a solution to flooding. While that suggestion may come across as tone-deaf, one can also argue that there are neighborhoods where even having a second floor would not be enough to survive a serious flood.

There are households that cannot afford that kind of infrastructure. There are families who cannot simply move somewhere safer because they cannot afford to relocate.

And perhaps that is exactly where the conversation needs to begin.

We cannot pretend that everyone has the same starting point.

Some people are already running uphill before the race even begins.

Some families are one flood away from losing what little they have.

Some people do not have the money to simply move somewhere safer, build a second floor, go back to school, or start over.

It is easy to tell people to "work harder" when you are not the one carrying the weight they carry.

So no, I am not saying that personal effort will magically solve everything.

It won't.

We still need better governance.

We still need accountability.

We still need competent infrastructure, better education, decent wages, and leaders who actually understand what ordinary Filipinos are going through.

But while we wait for those things to change, we cannot simply wait for someone else to save us.

If there is something within our control, then we should do something about it.

Learn what we can.

Work with what we have.

Save when we can.

Prepare when we can.

Help our families.

Help our neighbors when we are able.

And when an opportunity comes, take it.

Maybe that is what resiliency should really mean.

Not simply smiling after every disaster and saying, "Kaya natin 'to."

It should mean getting back up and asking ourselves:

"What can I do differently this time?"

Because the odds may be stacked against us.

The system may be broken.

The rain may keep falling.

The floodwaters may rise.

The prices may keep going up.

But we cannot allow the difficulty of our circumstances to convince us that we have no agency at all.

We may not be able to control the hand we were dealt.

But we can still decide how we play it.

And sometimes, surviving isn't about having the best cards.

It's about refusing to fold.