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Weanne Myrrh. 20. Filipina Seventh-day Adventist.

Past Posts

Bituwin - template
Dementee - image

Sunday, November 1
Embarass? Embarrass? Embbarrass!

You know what's embarrassing?

That I misspelled the word "embarrassing". Haha. Remember the welcome screen on this blog?

"This might be embarassing."

Haha I guess I couldn't have been more right. That is embarRassing. Haha. Don't worry, I changed it to its rightful spelling now.

And I dare call myself a geek. Tsk.

Pathophysiology of the Cross

Nursing student, this is for you. Yes, you - someone who has spent countless hours in case conference classes, dissecting the intricacies of diseases. You - someone like me who spends 70% of my waking hours memorizing signs, symptoms, physiologies and pathophysiologies while I unwittingly neglect the Creator Himself. Someone who watches out for signs and symptoms of hypovolemic shock yet forgets the blood spilled out on Calvary. Someone who winces over the mere mention of Grade IV bed sores but cares not for nail scarred hands. You, yes you. This is for you.

Yes, I know, this note is quite long. But pardon me. If you can make it through four hours of your classmate's monotonous mumbling while you enter a "hypoglycemic hypoosmolar" nonketotic coma in casecon class, then you can make it through the ten minutes it will take you to read this. And maybe, just maybe, the sacrifice on Calvary might mean so much more.

(facts taken from thecrucifixion.org)

The Roman legionnaire stepped forward with the flagrum, or flagellum, in his hand. This was a short whip consisting of several heavy, leather thongs with two small balls of lead attached near the ends of each. As the flogging continued, the lacerations would tear into the underlying skeletal muscles and produce quivering ribbons of bleeding flesh. Pain and blood loss generally set the stage for circulatory shock.

During the scourging, there is "first an oozing of blood from the capillaries and veins...finally spurting arterial bleeding from vessels in the underlying muscles. As for Jesus' specific case, he probably had one of the most severe that was possible by Jewish law. As for the crown of thorns that he bore, it was not simply a few briars. The mocking crown of thorns "had thorns up to six inches long."

The scourging prior to crucifixion served to weaken the condemned man and, if blood loss was considerable, to produce orthostatic hypotension and even hypovolemic shock. When the victim was thrown to the ground on his back, in preparation for transfixion of the hands, his scourging wounds most likely would become torn open again and contaminated with dirt. Furthermore, with each respiration, the painful scourging wounds would be scraped against the rough wood of the stipes. As a result, blood loss from the back probably would continue throughout the crucifixion ordeal. Likewise, after the scourging, "when the soldiers tore the robe from Jesus' back, they probably reopened the scourging wounds" (Edwards, Gabel, Hosmer Par. 14). Thus, "even before the actual crucifixion, Jesus' physical condition was at least serious and possibly critical."


The Via Delarosa is by no means characterized by having a man carry a little board of wood as used on a building. It is reported that the "weight of the entire cross was probably well over 300 lb. (136 kg), only the crossbar was carried" (Edwards, Gabel, Hosmer). In spite of Jesus' efforts to walk erect, the weight of the heavy wooden beam, together with the shock produced by copious loss of blood, was too much. He stumbled and fell. The rough wood of the beam gouged into the lacerate skin and muscles of the shoulders. He tried to rise, but human muscles had been pushed beyond their endurance. After that point of Jesus falling, Simon of Cyrene had to carry the heavy cross the rest of 650 yards to Golgotha.


With arms outstretched but not taut, the wrists were nailed to the patibulum. It has been shown that the ligaments and bones of the wrist can support the weight of a body hanging from them, but the palms cannot. Accordingly, the iron spikes probably were driven between the radius and the carpals or between the two rows of carpal bones, either proximal to or through the strong bandlike flexor retinaeulum and the various interearpal ligaments. Although a nail in either location in the wrist might pass between the bony elements and thereby produce no fractures, the likelihood of painful periosteal injury would seem great. Furthermore, the driven nail would crush or sever the rather large sensorimotor median nerve. The stimulated nerve would produce excruciating bolts of fiery pain in both arms. Although the severed median nerve would result in paralysis of a portion of the hand, isehemie contractures and impalement of various ligaments by the iron spike might produce a clawlike grasp.

The nails in the wrists were putting pressure on the median nerve, large nerve trunks which traverse the mid-wrist and hand. As He pushed Himself upward to avoid this stretching torment, He placed His full weight on the nail through His feet. Again there was searing agony as the nail tore through the nerves between the metatarsal bones of this feet.

It is important to note that, "the major pathophysiologic effect of crucifixion, beyond the excruciating pain, was a marked interference with normal respiration, particularly exhalation" (Edwards, Gabel, Hosmer Par. 30). Even the very effort to breathe was intensely painful. It is written that "each respiratory effort would become agonizing and tiring and lead eventually to asphyxia" (Edwards, Gabel, Hosmer Par. 31). The further effects of lack of air show, for Bradley says, "Air is sucked in, but cannot be exhaled until the buildup of carbon dioxide in the lungs and the blood stream stimulates breathing to relieve the cramps". The weight of the body, pulling down on the outstretched arms and shoulders, would tend to fix the intercostal muscles in an inhalation state and thereby hinder passive exhalation. Accordingly, exhalation was primarily diaphragmatic, and breathing was shallow. It is likely that this form of respiration would not suffice and that hypercarbia would soon result. The onset of muscle cramps or tetanic contractions, due to fatigue and hypercarbia, would hinder respiration even further.

Adequate exhalation required lifting the body by pushing up on the feet and by flexing the elbows and adducting the shoulders. However, this maneuver would place the entire weight of the body on the tarsals and would produce searing pain. Furthermore, flexion of the elbows would cause rotation of the wrists about the iron nails and cause fiery pain along the damaged median nerves. Lifting of the body would also painfully scrape the scourged back against the rough wooden stipes. Muscle cramps and paresthesias of the outstretched and uplifted arms would add to the discomfort. As a result, each respiratory effort would become agonizing and tiring and lead eventually to asphyxia.

In reference to Christ's heart, Bradley writes that it is the very struggle of his heart to "pump the thick blood as each of His billions of cells die one at a time" . Although it was very hard to speak, Christ still uttered those infamous phrases showing His love and forgiveness and lack of bitterness toward his persecutors.

The actual cause of death by crucifixion was multifactorial and varied somewhat with each ease, but the two most prominent causes probably were hypovolemic shock and exhaustion asphyxia.Other possible contributing factors included dehydration, stress-induced arrhythmias, and congestive heart failure with the rapid accumulation of pericardial and perhaps pleural effusions.

Acute Pain. Fluid Volume Deficit. Decreased Cardiac Output. Impaired Tissue Perfusion. Impaired Skin Integrity. Ineffective Breathing Pattern. Social Isolation.

All for you. All for me. Our debt paid in full. Promise fulfilled.

Goal met.

Thursday, October 29
Don't read, this post is totally useless.

dull. dull. dull. sucky. day.

Spent the morning attending what was probably the last orientation of my collegiate career. Spent the afternoon watching Glee reruns, and clicking "Home" on Facebook just in case someone would post something that was the least bit interesting. Spent the night playing Cooking Academy on my hardworking laptop. Found out that even in the virtual world of cooking, I suck too.

I just wasted 24 hours of my life. My laptop is my bestfriend now. Darn.

The one thing that made me smile today was the sight of Mimo dashing to his room after hearing Mommy come out of the master's bedroom. He was seriously breaking the computer curfew.

Don't know what's wrong. It's too early to be PMSing. Things aren't going well in the love frontier either. Love and life haven't been coinciding lately.

Yuck, too emo. I'm gonna stop before I start wearing all black and listening to bleeding love songs. Night night.

Wednesday, October 28
nerd. nerd.

i'm a geek.

i might just go out and admit that. haha. while most people probably spent their sembreak malling, gimmicking, beach-ing, sight seeing, drinking, working, and all other -ings, i spent the past three weeks doing my case conference requirement, working on our thesis, researching for nursing reviewers, conceptualizing the upcoming dedication ceremony, and making reviewers for the board exam.

i need to get a life. raar.


I feel weird. My palms are tingling and I’m tachycardic.

No, it’s not because of love.

Just a few minutes ago, my sister shouted from the living room that an accident had occurred in front of the Philippine International Church and that two were dead. She got the news from a post in Facebook.

Cue the feeling mentioned above.

Just a week ago, a little kid had gotten hit by a truck while inside the AUP Campus. And now this. Frankly, I was quite shook up. Accidents occurring in AUP? This was too close to home. AUP is my haven, my comfort zone, my safe place. In my eyes, AUP had a force field, protecting it from dangers. Accidents don’t happen here. People don’t die in accidents here. News like that turn my knees to jelly, making them automatically kneel in front of God, scared.

It turned out that it was just a joke. True, an accident had occurred after midweek. But the only things dead were the car engines.

It was a mean joke. Really, I’ll never believe in Facebook gossip again. But in those moments when I thought the news were honest to goodness real, I had an epiphany.

Life is short. Accidents happen. People die. AUP Kids are no exemption. Earlier today, while I was crossing the streets of Silang to board the clunky AUP bus, I forgot to stop, look and listen. Dazed, I had crossed the street, not noticing that a scooter was almost about to hit me.

It could’ve been a truck, or a car. Thank you, guardian angel.

It made me think about death yet again. I’ve contemplated about death so many times in my twenty years, and I know the exact thoughts that are probably going to flash through my head in the split second that it takes for me to give my final breath. No snapshots of my life flashing before my very eyes. Just this thought.

“Jesus. Save me.”

No, I don’t mean that He save me from the clutches of death. It’s not a desperate cry for help. Rather, those three last words are a plea for eternal life. Jesus, forgive me from my sins. Jesus, I’m about to die. Please give me eternal life. Jesus. Please. Despite the sins of my life. Save me.

I know He already has. Saved me, I mean. More than two thousand years ago, on the cross, a condemned robber painstakingly whispered my future script. “Jesus, remember me when Thou comest into Thy Kingdom.”

The last words of a dying man. Jesus, save me.

And just a few hours later, Jesus did the one thing that could answer that sinner’s prayer. He died on the cross. In that glorious, heartbreaking moment, the plan of salvation was fulfilled. The robber was saved. The world was saved.

I was saved.

So why am I still scared? Why does the thought of my death still terrify me so much? Why don’t I have the serenity to face death trusting that the next time my eyes open, my Savior would be descending from the clouds?

I have a few theories. Maybe it’s because I know I’m not yet ready. Maybe it’s because I haven’t loved Jesus enough to trust Him fully. I haven’t surrendered my life to Him that way. Maybe.

Right here, right now, in my bed, I’m making a decision. I don’t want a deathbed conversion. I don’t want the last seconds of my life to be a scared plea to God. I want to find the quiet peace that comes from knowing that though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil because the Lord is with me.

I pray that you will too.


My palms are still tingling.