Of Hospitals, Sick Cook, Sick Dog, and Chain-Letters
Weird that instead of swimming in the clear waters of Boracay or Coron or just enjoying what my Bukid-non has to offer, I spend more time in Philippine hospitals and clinics. I didn’t need any treatment. As many of my friends knew, Walter was confined at St. Luke’s, where we shared the same room—me, as his alalay (help), deprived of sleep during Walter’s six-day hospital stay. These hospital visits left me feeling exhausted and helpless, making me realize how fragile our health can be and how much we rely on the kindness of strangers. St. Luke’s came into the picture when a hospital in my hometown, realizing that it lacked the facilities to perform blood transfusions, should Walter need one, advised us to go to a bigger hospital, this after a blood extraction and an IV fluid infusion. This was the second time Walter had to have a blood extraction in 2 hours—the first, done by a local lab that this hospital ignored, perhaps preferring to do its own for reasons beyond me. The resident physician waived his doctor’s fee, for which we were expected to be grateful. He has not done anything substantial other than ask what brought us to his hospital anyway. For this act of kindness, we should remain indebted forever. Salamat po, Doktor!

With Princess at the Animal Care Hospital and Wellness Center
Princess is one of Walter’s strange bedfellows, an eight-year-old Shitzu-Maltese mixed breed. Now eight years old, she’s become the most expensive dog in the house based on the animal hospital and clinic visits she’s had over the last five years – not counting house calls by her ‘attending vet.’ Her recurring health issues, especially her painful swollen gum, have made me worry about her quality of life. We had to bring her to the Animal Care Hospital and Wellness Center in Angeles City, Pampanga Province, yesterday for her swollen gum to be thoroughly examined. She’s had several tooth extractions in the past. This time, the local animal clinic found it somewhat problematic to remove that tooth, which was causing her so much pain. The best thing they could do for her was to give her steroids to ease the pain. Unfortunately, the steroids didn’t help much. Her saliva was constantly drooling, and she eventually developed a bad case of halitosis; you’d think there was a decaying corpse near you. Walter could not bear the stench and the speed at which she was getting emaciated.

Princess and DVMs
A vet friend, Wyatt, was visiting the house and suggested bringing Princess to the animal hospital owned by a good friend. It was a high-end veterinary hospital. I could not help but think of the bills the treatment might cost Walter, especially when the hospital owner personally attended to Princess. The thought of the expenses made me anxious, knowing how much we already spend on her care, but I also knew her suffering was more important. Finally, however, he did what I was hoping to get for Princess – a thorough examination of what was ailing her: Her lower molar tooth, which the local clinic in my town would not want to touch—it lacks the facility to carry out a complicated dental procedure, I assumed—has gone necrotic. It took me a while to realize that this clinic is more of an Emergency Room for animals needing first aid.
Three hours later, Princess, our vet friend, and I were on our way home. The bill wasn’t that high; it helped that the hospital owner and our vet friend are frat brothers. Princess was scheduled to have a tooth extraction and gum surgery at the end of the month. So, of course, I must be there for her, hoping against hope that no cat is around. I love cats, but my nose gets stuffy whenever one is nearby.
The next day, I had to be in another hospital again—to visit Ila, my former cook in my hometown. Apparently, she collapsed at home and was rushed to the nearest hospital. My cook, a second-degree cousin, quit working after being diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago. She seemed on the mend again after several treatments. Still, two years later, she was confronted with yet another form of cancer. Bone this time. And the prognosis is not good. The doctors don’t give much hope, but I remain optimistic that she can beat her demons the way she did many in the past. Then, finally, I got a sign she will.

Ila, my former Cook. At extreme right, in a green shirt, at Walter’s 65th.
I was chatting with her sister and discussing her frame of health when a message flashed on the screen that read: “Psalm 126. God asked me to tell you everything will be alright from now on…” Another chain letter, I said. I would generally ignore such things, but at least this one didn’t threaten the recipient with something unpleasant if ignored. And I received it right after I offered a small prayer for my cook, asking a favor that she may withstand her trial. I may not be the holiest among my friends, but this happened while seeking His help for someone in need. I find it strange, too much of a coincidence, but how many times have I heard it said that God works in mysterious ways? I don’t remember the last time I forwarded a chain letter to friends, which I promised myself I wouldn’t do again, but I tried to justify this one. I asked for forgiveness and understanding from those I may have offended or bothered with my action.
After breakfast, Walter asked me to take him to a dental clinic. He broke one of his front teeth while munching calamares fritos at St. Luke’s. No, St. Luke’s did not serve fried squid. He asked me to get some for him when he heard a friend, Menchu, inviting me to dinner in a Spanish restaurant near the hospital. She said I needed something good to eat besides the fast food I usually get from McDonald’s nearby. Much as I hate the sights, sounds, and smells at the dental clinic, I had no choice but to keep Walter company while his dentist worked on whatever was left of his broken tooth. Aray!
It’s safe to say I’d been to many hospitals and clinics where everybody in scrubs and white coat seems to be running around all the time, where doctors seem distant when they talk to you; I’d seen enough paramedics, nurses, ambulance attendants, people talking in whispers, porters, wheelchairs, IV fluid bags, get-well flowers, etc., and so my wish now, having been there and done that is to get a break from all of these and have fun while home here on the island. Please empathize with my longing for a peaceful break. WISH ME LUCK!
Look at the brighter side of things – you are healthier than most around you! That’s a lot to be thankful for. Me? I have been waiting for 2 hours now for an ultraschall of my eyes to check the thickness or thinness of my eye muscles!
I know, and I am thankful for this. In any case, what will you have to do, go to Holmes? hahaha. Seriously now, I hope everything’s ok with the muscles of your eyes. Ingat!
Better be the alalay than be the one needing the treatment – maybe time to come back to Vienna ?
Looks like we’re staying until after his 70th
Praying with you that your wish will be granted. That there’ll be no more medical or hospital duties for you and Walter. Ingat.