THE HOLE STORY


PART 2: IN THE ER - A WORRIED WIFE IS A BITCHY WIFE AND MORE LUCKY TWISTS


It was around 5pm when we got to St. Luke's; Papa, Darlene, Lucas and I. That was probably the last hour of Papa's lucidity on that day, when he was still able to park the car in the parking building about 10 meters away from the ER, the whole length of which he had to walk. Since he was still able to stand upright, nobody met us with a wheelchair or anything... in fact, nobody met us at all. I had to fumble around for a few seconds trying to scour the people around and find somebody I could talk to. There was just the nurses' station filled with people who were either bent on a pile of papers, talking on the phone, had their backs turned to the station or talking with somebody else. I stood my ground and tried to make eye contact with somebody, anybody. Soon enough, a lady did, an intern probably, and I opened my eyes as wide as I could as I approached, just so she wouldn't start doing something else until I was close enough to talk to her.

'Yes?', she said.

'I need a doctor.'

'What's wrong?'

'My husband has been having stomach pains since yesterday.'

So the lady went back with me to where Papa was. She made me fill out some forms while she assessed him and then she left. Another intern, a male, this time, came and asked us the same questions, touched, squeezed and palpated the same stomach, bent the same knees and left. Still a few moments later, the duo came back and did everything all over again. Then they led us to an inner, more private cubicle deeper into the ER and left us there.

All these time, Papa was his usual self... pleasant, perky, giving funny answers to the not so funny questions, calmly waiting with no idea of what he was in for. Several minutes after we were transferred to the cubicle, Papa started getting restless. He said he was feeling cold, so I went and looked for the interns attending to us to ask for blankets. I waited but no blankets came. Papa wanted to get out of the cubicle, saying it was too cold there although I myself didn't think so, and we tried to go back to where he was first examined but he said it was cold there too, so we went back to our cubicle and waited. Then Papa started chilling and I went back to ask for blankets. After several more minutes, I saw the male intern approaching us with a blanket at hand, when a colleague stopped him on his tracks and had a word with him. And he stopped, and he talked to her... and my jaw dropped. Of all the !@#$%^&* things! We need those darn blankets! So I approached him myself, held my hand palms up and said, 'If you don't mind, I really need the blanket.'

He gave me the blanket (talk about dense) and gave me a small receptacle saying they needed a urine sample. That delivered to the nurse's station, I went back to the cubicle and found Papa trying to get up from the stretcher. I asked him why and he said he was still cold, and was, in fact, shaking more visibly. He stood up, turned around, leaned on the stretcher and did everything except reassure me that he was just fine. I asked for more blankets and it was the same story all over again. I had to wait, and ask again, and wait again. When the male intern came with the blankets (thank God he had the good sense to bring 2 this time), I said to him, in a not so pleasant voice anymore, 'What are we waiting for? Isn't there anything anybody can do much faster? He's chilling to the bone!'

The cheeky intern had the audacity to tell me, 'Ma'am, we're doing everything we can.'

I looked him in the eye with the vilest dagger-look I could muster, and retorted, 'I don't think so, mister.'

At that, he excused himself and left. I didn't realize that Papa had been listening all along cause the minute the intern left, he said, 'Mylab, cool ka lang.' You really gotta hand it to this guy.

And then they all came.

In an instant, the pathologist was there taking blood samples, the IV therapist came to insert an IV and most importantly, the resident on duty, a real, honest-to-goodness doctor, came and saw to Papa, relieving the interns of all their assumed responsibilities to us.

I watched while the IV therapist worked and at one point, I saw the end of the IV tubing uncapped and trailing out of her tray. I pointed it out to her and she said it wasn't. In an obviously strained voice, I said, 'I'm sorry, but please don't tell me what I saw and what I didn't. That IV tubing was trailing out of your sterile field and I can also see you have every intention of using it on my husband. Now that's screaming infection to me so will you please go and change it?' I know I caught her ire, and when she did as I asked, I smiled at her and said, 'Thank you.'

The lady ROD did the same things the interns did... touched, poked, palpated, squeezed, bent, ordered a couple of X-rays taken, and did a rectal exam on Papa. I knew he wouldn't take kindly to that, Papa has never had anything like this before. Being a nurse, I'm very much aware of most of the deprecating things that can be done to patients and with all that I knew how to do, I was ready to shield Papa from anything unnecessary. But this time, I couldn't intervene for him... it simply had to be done and I knew that much. He just had to take it. I held his hand, and with the other, I cupped his face, and held my cheek against his. It tore me apart that in that very moment, it was all I could do to comfort him.

The ROD told me they're suspecting either an acute appendicitis or a urinary tract infection. We had to wait until the lab results came back. In the meantime, he was given IV paracetamol which did a fantastic job in stopping the chills but didn't do much to bring down his temperature. Still, Papa was finally and comfortably sleeping. I went out for a while to see how my sister and nephew were doing. They were waiting for Kuya Bong, who was then on his way back to the city from a fiesta in Pampanga, to take Lucas home. Darlene was going to stay with me for the long haul. I also called my mom-in-law and told her that we probably wouldn't be able to make it to the party after all. That was the hard part. I had to pacify her and choose my words very carefully. She's 80 years old and hypertensive and I didn't want another situation to come up.

A little later, my mom called and asked if we needed anything... clothes, towels, toothbrushes, soap, money? I told her what I needed and she came a couple of hours later with more things than I asked. A little later still, Darlene came into the ER and told me kuya Bong had arrived, had taken Lucas home, and was coming back with some more things we might need.

It dawned on me then how lucky this all was. I was thinking, if this happened in Singapore, we would be by ourselves and we wouldn't have all these support we were having now. I took a deep sigh of relief, knowing in my heart that SOMEONE was watching over us, after all. I can let go of the reins.

After a while, the ROD came back and told us that the urine test turned up negative so UTI was ruled out. There was only AP to consider now. At the same time, our friend, Dr. Rico Constantino, who's a consultant in that hospital, has called up with orders for Papa to be admitted for further observation, with him as the attending physician. That was another lucky twist. See, at that time, Rico was practically resigned from his post at St. Luke's, having opted for the road less traveled, to set up practice in his wife's hometown up in Nueva Vizcaya. He has been declining patients for the past couple of weeks cause he didn't have the time to attend to them anymore, but it's really not as if he could turn down friends.

So I left Darlene and my mom with Papa to work on the admission forms. There was this pregnant lady there who assisted clients with this. At one point, she asked me, 'What room would would you like?'

I said, 'Excuse me?'

'Private, semi-private or ward?'

I asked her how much a private and semi-private room would cost. I asked her if she could give me a rough estimate of the total charges at the end of the confinement, with all the treatment, lab exams, a possible operation and with the doctors' professional fees. She gave me a figure for the total cost of hospitalization but said the professional fees would be up to the doctors. I told her I'd give her my answer in a while and went back to consult with Darlene and my mom. Darlene pointed out that since we still didn't know how much the doctors would be asking, it might be better to go on the conservative side and just take a semi-private room for the meantime. When we have a clearer idea on how much we would be paying in the end and there is still room for it, we can upgrade to a private room if we would still want to. I considered that, but then I thought... it's Papa's money, he has worked hard for that. Why should I stinge on him now? But more than that, I was thinking of the possible conditions we would find in a semi-private room... shared bathrooms, probably a shared refrigerator, definitely a shared TV, no privacy, constant noise, cross-infections. Knowing there was a possibility that Papa would have an operation, the thought of acquiring a secondary infection on top of what he already has because of cohorting was paramount in my mind. Of course, the hospital would have a protocol regarding that, but then, these things were oftentimes only good in paper.

I went back to the lady and gave her my verdict. 'A private room please.'

She stamped up the forms, handed them back to me, with instructions to go to the admitting section cause I needed to give them a downpayment. I did so and here is where another lucky twist turned up. The clerk there told me, 'Ma'am, it's 11 pm. If we admit your patient right now, by 12 midnight, you would have to pay for a whole day's room and board. Would you like to wait until 12 so the charges would start then and not now?'

Gosh, there was absolutely no way I could have known that and by all means I would have wanted everythig over and done with at the soonest possible time... the sooner Papa got admitted the sooner we could come up to the room, and the sooner he would be comfortably out of the hustle and bustle of the ER. That was all I knew.

God bless this clerk's heart for not beeing greedy.

When I reflect on these events now, I realize that in situations like this, you just have to really trust the forces that be. It was only when I relented and let go of the reins that everything started to be just fine.