Dear Classmates, 45 Years Later

 

Dear classmates,

Thank you for a wonderful reunion experience in Europe. Our class reunion was a hoot! Sixteen classmates from the Arellano University BSN Class of 1980, along with their spouses and sisters, gathered for the 45th anniversary reunion in Norway, then went on a cruise along the European coast via MSC Poesia Cruises.

Not everyone gets a chance to reunite with those they started the journey with. Not everyone has the opportunity to reconnect and restore the camaraderie borne by the blood, sweat, and tears of nursing school. After our graduation ceremony in the Philippines, we went our separate ways to navigate the challenges of our personal and professional lives.

Somehow, our class managed to come together again. In October 2011, the 1st Global Reunion of the Arellano University College of Nursing was held in Las Vegas, with nine classmates from Section 2 in attendance. That was thirty-one years after our class graduation in 1980. We screamed, hugged, chatted away, and laughed at each other’s jokes and remembrances, as we tried to make up for the long years in between. We resolved to reunite at least every two years.

Nursing Student Years- 1975-1980

Those years in class and in clinicals —ranging from V. Luna Medical Center, Quezon Institute, Mental Hospital to the community centers —provided us with invaluable hands-on experiences that prepared us for the challenges of “real life”. We wore striped blue seer-sucker uniforms with stiff starched white aprons and large nursing caps perched on our heads—the good old days. 

Manila Sound birthed the Original Pilipino Music era. The musical tapestry of our lives featured songs from Hotdog, Cinderella, Freddie Aguilar, Apo Hiking Society, and, as sung by Rico J, “namamasyal pa sa Luneta.”

We overcame “terror” instructors, struggled through our thesis projects, and played skits for our patients on our last days of clinical rotations. We graduated despite the butt-numbing traffic and waded through floods (flood control is an ongoing problem in the Philippines, but we digress).

Forty-five years later, most of the OGs have retired. We are the Baby Boomers, what some people call “Old Guards”, although I prefer “Original Gangsters”, because you know, we were badass nurses.

On August 29, 2025, we descended into Oslo, Norway, and were welcomed by our gracious hosts Alma and Homer.  Our program began with a Welcome address by Alma, a Celebratory remark by Shirley, a birthday celebration for our four classmates (Amie, Louie, Cely, and Janet), and a closing remark by Ces.

 

How can I describe the party? BELLY LAUGHS! 

Not just a mild or polite chuckle, but that deep, loud, and hearty laugh from the games: Grouping ourselves, Charades, and Hephep Hurray. Just a good thing that none of us needed Depends yet. We let go of our inhibitions, being carefree to be young and play as if we were kids again, and grateful for the camaraderie and that we can enjoy each other again. There is unabashed joy in just being silly together. Priceless.

Our class reunion was like this. Hatakan, hampasan, takbuhan, naiihi, mahina, sigawan. The floodgates opened up, and we shared our memories of our student years. The chatter crescendoed to a point that the spouses were wondering what banshees we are. You can now check off this on your list: no Alzheimer’s memory loss yet, because those moments were captured in our hearts.

SALAMAT PO, MGA KAMAG-ARAL

Alma and Homer, thank you for putting up with this group of gaggling hens and their supportive spouses. You were like shepherds trying to control the errant flock. That was a colossal effort to plan the itinerary, which included the bus ride to Vigeland Park to see the sculptures (especially the imposing Monolith), the Holmenkollen Skating Arena, the Evening fjord boat ride, and the reunion party held in Stortua. Cheers for your patience and fortitude. Homer, you’re a stand-up comedian; your low-key comedic liners are hilarious.

Cely, thank you for your generosity through all these reunions. You have sponsored the reunion t-shirts and the tarpaulin. You are so giving, that’s why you are so blessed. The green t-shirts are my favorite; the color is so vibrant and hopeful. In truth, the bright green color served as a beacon, or to put it more bluntly, like an invisible rope to get us all tethered to the large group.

Ampy, thank you for starting all of this when you and Althea searched for our classmates on the internet. You were like our mother hen/detective in coaxing us out of hiding, even opening your gorgeous house in New Jersey. I would definitely drive 2+ hours to your Robbinsville house to savor your delicious food spread. And thank you for sharing your health challenges with us; you are a survivor.

Salha, thank you for your persistence and ingenuity with Chat-GPT to provide travel tips to us, especially for those who are newbies with cruise etiquette. You are so level-headed, even redirecting us when some of us are impatient (maybe we have ADHD). You're like an encyclopedia with your travel experience. I nominate you to be the Secretary for this group.

Luz, thank you for commiserating with me when my hip pain sidelined me due to my over-confident walking. My fellow PWD, lol. Yet, you're still poised and fashionable. I do think you're a great Zumba instructor.

Shirley, thank you for your invigorating celebratory remarks. I appreciated how you engaged the group with your words of wisdom and encouragement, spoken like a great nurse educator that you are—hats off to our Magna cum laude. I would have loved to be in your class.

Yoly, thank you for joining us and sharing your effervescent and bubbly personality. Thank you for your financial tips. When we visit Ampy again, I look forward to all the corn cobs you can bring.

Neth, thank you for surprising us with your “pregnancy news”, lol. I still remember how you surprised us as Speedy Gonzales at our Florida reunion. I hope that your son Michael was not traumatized or exhausted by our group's shenanigans.

Lita, thank you for being such a bundle of energy, fellow ER nurse. I love your stories about your grandkids. We will not tell anyone who your favorite is. Congratulations on being a survivor, too.

Amie, thank you for being the “selfie queen”. You made sure that we posed for the pictures, but sorry, we are just bad at following directions. Asoo!

Janet, thank you for opening your heart and sharing your memories of your dog “Pogi” with us. I can relate, because we lost Boomer at around the same time. Time heals.

Mate, thanks for inspiring me to get more physically fit. We didn’t know about your accident, but you persevered. You’re a Superwoman.

Ces, thank you for being you: honest, joyful, funny, and pragmatic. You were quiet during our nursing days, but now you have a lot of stories to tell. Who can forget how you went over the fence that got you expelled from your dormitory? You're the quintessential Treasurer of our group.

Louie, thank you for sharing your wife, Yo, with us; she is delightful. Thank you for the scarves and the lunch treat. You have always been generous; remember that you paid for the half-page ad for our class section at the Las Vegas reunion.

Dori, thank you for joining our section. You blended in very well. Please join us at our next reunion.

Sisterets, thank you for the three sisters who patiently tolerated their "Ates": Bheng, Poleng, and Lucy. We enjoyed your company.

Spouses (Homer, Ed, John, Arnold, Mel, Gerry, Gary, Manny, Ofre), thank you for the support of your respective wives. You are very much a part of this experience. As eager as you were to pose for the pictures (this was your reunion, too), you certainly did better than the ladies in following directions. It was a joy to see you enjoying the games, as well.

 

Dear classmates, take a bow. We have achieved greatness beyond our own expectations. We traveled different paths, but we made it through these days. We define our own success, inspiring others in our own unique ways, and for that, as Shirley said, “Pat yourselves on your back. Let us celebrate ourselves.”

We’ve come a long way from the naïve and bright-eyed nursing graduates in 1980. Forty-five years never looked so good. 

I am happy that we continue to grow as a “family”. We first sang “That’s What Friends Are For” in Vienna in 2018. Just promise me, please, next time, you'll know the lyrics by heart.

Let's take care of ourselves, and we'll see each other in January 2027. 

 

I. Am. Retired.

This is it. End of shift last July 23, 2025. I. Am. Retired.

I waited one month to write this post. I took the time to reflect on this moment, which I have been waiting for since I stepped on American soil 42 years ago. I needed to savor the significance of this career milestone: being suddenly freed from the rigors of waking up early, sitting in traffic, driving through icy roads, and having to hold my tongue to maintain peace. I wanted to sit in the space of reflection, to marinate the concept of retirement in my mind, and to drink in the wonderment that finally the time has come to hang up my lab coat.

Two years ago, my friends opted for early retirement, often enticing me with pictures of their travels, but I was not ready to let go. My work gave me a sense of purpose (aside from my family). My work friends filled my head with compliments about my guidance and mentorship, and my students’ feedback was both satisfying and encouraging; they even urged me to post on TikTok, especially when I used the analogy of dysfunctional romantic relationships to teach heart blocks.

Frankly, the thought of retirement scared me. “How will I spend my day? Would I lose my mind with boredom? Would my muscles weaken from non-activity? Would my brain cells shrivel up for lack of mental stimulation?”

The epiphany that it was time for retirement sneaked up on me. I was feeling energized after a vacation in the Philippines, and I realized that I wanted to travel the world more than I ever did. My college classmates, most of them retired, regaled me with their travel stories. For our 45^th anniversary since graduation in 1980, the BSN class of Arellano University College of Nursing was preparing to have our reunion in Norway.

I was also mesmerized by some painting vlogs on Instagram. My Facebook algorithms shifted to drawings and instructions on acrylics, watercolor, and gouache mediums. I realized that I wanted to pursue my long-dormant artistic side. My Renaissance area beckons me.

Retirement is a milestone, a gift, a blessing that is often denied to others. It is taking control of my narrative and choosing how to live my life, when, what, and how at my leisure. 

 

Bookends of my professional life

In January 1983, I was young, naïve, and eager. Fresh from my stint with the Philippine National Red Cross, I embarked on my nursing career in New York City with stars in my eyes and dreams in my heart. I was ready to conquer the nursing world.

I made a meme of my younger self as I stood on the grounds of Roosevelt Island looking toward Manhattan, “Someday, you will retire. And you will know that you were a bad-ass nurse who cared for her patients and her colleagues.”

After working at Coler Memorial Hospital, I began my career in Emergency Nursing at Elmhurst Hospital Center, Maimonides Medical Center, Mount Sinai Morningside, and then St. John’s Hospital. I must be a glutton for punishment, or maybe an adrenaline-junkie. Perhaps I needed to channel my nervous energy into the high-stakes patient care. Life was never dull, never placid, never predictable. The word “Quiet” jinxes everything, and whoever uttered that word would be ostracized for the rest of the shift.

I have many stories to share, some of which were featured in two memoirs that I published. What a journey it has been. I am humbled by the opportunity to care for all the patients that I met and to work with strong, gracious, and compassionate colleagues along the way.

Before I officially retired, the staff at St. John’s Episcopal Hospital threw me a surprise party. The Nursing Professional Development educators organized a celebration attended by nursing leadership and staff from various units. It was my special "Lollipop moment". A “lollipop moment” is when someone said something or did something that fundamentally made your life better.

As I walked down the colorful path, each person handed me a lollipop. In my classes, I have encouraged my students to remember the impact they have on their patients and coworkers. I also encouraged them to reach out to those special people who have made an impact on their lives, as introduced by Drew Dudley in his TED Talk, by giving them lollipops.

Imagine getting my lollipops and receiving notes of thanks from everyone. I love, love, love the Lollipop moment notes and the touching words from everyone. Priceless!

https://www.facebook.com/100000202167830/videos/pcb.25096204806636245/1276051227389132

 

Thank you for the memories

I am grateful for the experiences that have shaped me into the nurse I am today. I stumbled along the way, but through it all, I rose even stronger. No longer a fumbling neophyte, I am a confident nurse who knows I have succeeded on my terms. I don't define my success by other people's definitions. I am proud of how I have metamorphosed from a novice to an expert, mainly due to the lessons I have learned along the way.

As I rose from the ranks into leadership and educator positions, I stood on the shoulders of those who came before me, and in turn, I extended my support to those who came after me. As an ER nurse, I navigated the psychological landmines by focusing on the emotional rewards, which strengthened me, even through the pandemic's challenges.  I found my joy in nursing by being mindful and intentional in seeking those serotonin boosters and mood lifters. I fought burnout by acknowledging the impact and influence of nurses in the lives of our patients, even though we sometimes may not get the instant gratification and appreciation from them.

I am an unapologetically sentimental person, which I inherited from my father and passed on to my son. I treasure the memories and appreciate the messages and remembrances from my colleagues and the other staff nurses. Over the years, I have collected messages and emails from those who acknowledged my contributions. In moments of self-doubt, they reinforced my “Why”. 

Please indulge me when I include some of these kind words:

“As a novice educator, you took me under your wings and provided guidance, mentorship, and encouragement that I am so appreciative of.  Thank you for always providing a listening ear and giving constructive feedback that continues to guide my career.”

“I have been holding on to you tightly since I joined EHS, and you have welcomed me with open arms. I am honored to say that I have received guidance and support from THE Jocelyn Sese.”

“Your dedication to EHS has been instrumental in elevating our nursing care and fostering a positive shift in our culture. You've set a remarkable example for all nurse leaders to aspire to. Personally, your guidance has been a great source of validation for me, ensuring I'm on the right path.”

“I want you to know that I truly couldn’t have reached this milestone without the solid foundation I gained during our two weeks of didactic training with you. Today, I’m able to confidently speak the language of critical care, relying less on my usual hand gestures and more on solid clinical communication. I am living proof of the impact you’ve made on the next generation of nurses.”

Post-retirement Life

When someone asked me what the first thing I would do when I retire, I answered without hesitation that I would attend the solo concert of Jin of BTS in New Jersey. The Jin concert at the Prudential Center in New Jersey on July 31 is my gift to myself for retirement. Jin was excellent; he did not phone in his performance, but gave it his all, with bulging neck veins and exposed deltoids, too. Mr. WorldWide Handsome winked, smirked sexily, and blew us his trademark kiss. I am eagerly awaiting the reunion of the 7-member supergroup BTS for a concert next year.

Retirement checklist:

•    Attend our 45^th class reunion with my BSN group in Norway and a cruise (from August 24 through September 6)
•    Complete the “Art with Suzanne” online course, start painting, and explore the creative process
•    Travel more and write more travelogues.
•    Attend more music concerts and Broadway shows.
•    Swimming lessons so that I can snorkel and dive on my next vacation
•    Finish my BTS Lego set, continue crossword and jigsaw puzzles for my mental exercise
•    Write my third book
•    Write, write, write
•     Read, read, read
•    Consider other Social Media platforms and learn more about Artificial Intelligence tools.

 (Psst: I do have some teaching gigs waiting for me after my Norway vacation. Cannot just go cold turkey. Need to wean myself.)

 The Final Curtain

The final curtain has closed. As Frank Sinatra sang, “Regrets, I've had a few. But then again, too few to mention. I did what I had to do and saw it through without exception. I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway. And more, much more than this, I did it my way”.

What a journey it has been. I am proud to be a bad-ass nurse.

I am ready to live my best encore. Bring it on.

 

 

 

The Power of Nurses... and the Countdown to my Retirement

 

This week, from May 6 through May 12, we celebrate National Nurses Week, starting with Florence Nightingale's birthday.

The American Nurses Enterprise chose the theme “Power of the Nurses” to shine a much-deserved spotlight on nurses' impact and influence on healthcare, from the bedside to the boardroom, from novices to experts.

At the Blessing of the Hands ceremony, the nurses recited, “May our hands always bring healing. May they always be gentle. And may they always remember the power they hold—the power of a nurse.”

The hospital held a Super-Nurse Cape Competition as a fun activity. The cape is an iconic image symbolizing the compassion and caring of the nurses who served under rigorous conditions. It is a poignant reminder of our “super-hero” status during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, but our powers never left. 

The power of our minds as we embrace new technologies, research, and evidence-based care.

The power of our vision as we promote professional growth, participate in the hospital’s strategic initiatives, and continue to make Nursing a loud and credible voice in healthcare programs.

The power of our hearts as we navigate nursing challenges through staffing issues and workplace violence, the power of our hearts to find our joy in the workplace, and the power of our hearts to put caring for our patients as our “why.”

The power of our hands as we healed and cared.

Our group of nursing educators from the Nursing Professional Development visited the different patient units with our Wellness cart filled with goodies (a variety of teas, granola bars, lip balms, pens, hand lotions, stress balls, lollipops, lavender sachets, and Skyflakes chocolate biscuits). A simple Thank You for a job well done. The smiles from the nurses, as they paused from their busy work, to engage with the educators: Priceless.

This Nursing Week is a turning point for me. A milestone of all milestones. It will be my last Nurses Week as an active-duty nurse. I have reduced my work hours for the past year and slowly inched forward to retirement. After 42 years as a nurse in the United States, I will retire this year at the end of July. Yes, 2025 will be, not next year. This is it.

It will be a great honor to join the ranks of those who retired to enjoy the fruits of their labor. I reflect on the great work of those who led the way, whose profound influence left an indelible mark on those they worked alongside. They touched many lives, dried many patients' tears (and their own), uplifted many hearts, celebrated their peers, endured the long hours, and overcame many challenges. They were powerful nurses; on their shoulders we stood and learned. 

A life spent in service is well-lived and blessed with immeasurable emotional rewards. Thank you to Paula, Cecil, Rosemary, Trish, and Avis for allowing me to use your pictures. They have many stories to share and precious memories to inspire. These ladies are legends in their own right, leaving a legacy of excellence through the years. 

Many more retired before me, and sadly, some who did not make it to retirement. I am humbled to have worked with them, from Coler Memorial Hospital, Elmhurst Hospital Center, Maimonides Medical Center, Mount Sinai Morningside, and St. John’s Hospital. 

It has been a wild ride. Promise, I will post more photos on my Retirement blog. What a journey it has been. My countdown begins.

 

 

Five Years Later: Surviving the Covid-19 War

Five years ago, on March 11, 2020, the World Health Organization officially declared COVID-19 a global pandemic. I remember the day as if it were only yesterday. The memories are vivid in my mind; the heartaches of losing friends and numerous patients leave an emotional scar in our hearts that will haunt us for the rest of our lives. The fear remains that another pandemic might come and change our world again.

I wrote this about my burnout:

At the beginning of April 2020, the Covid-19 pandemic burnt me out. 

I remember waking up in bed, physically drained from a fitful sleep and emotionally shattered by the friends and patients we lost. I debated calling out sick that morning because I dreaded hearing the frequent overhead pages for the code team. For the first time in my long nursing career, I was at a crossroads I never thought I could ever be at; I thought of quitting. I wanted to run as far away as I could, away from dying patients, away from the heartaches. But I could not abandon my staff, so I stayed resolute in fighting alongside my courageous staff in that dreadful war.

Five years later, I feel privileged to be part of the army of healthcare staff worldwide who battled the war. Today, I browsed through the photojournals that chronicled our fight. 

Yes, we survived. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. It was just taking one day at a time, putting one step ahead, until finally, the vaccine came, and later on, we finally took off our mask.  

I am not the only one remembering that day. The burnout and the PTSD that followed were real. 

Five years later, these are just distant memories for most. I know that for all the healthcare workers who struggled through the "war," it was an emotional and challenging process to move on to the new normal. May we all support each other as we learn from the past, and hopefully, we will not have to go through this again. I celebrate the resilience of these nurses and all those who continue to make a difference every day.

We are bruised but still standing.

Covid Diaries:

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