UP
Prep 1966This story is true. Names have been changed to protect the privacy of those concerned.
hello again one and all,
butch and manny, are you still with me? are you now separately
feeling your own pre-op heaven that ana ur writes of? don't you guys
chicken out on me, because i'm giving you some more, and much, much more.
so here we go again!
a scoutmasterly lecture
our very own dr. joe, husband
of reta tan and so on, was my
scoutmaster at the elinwood during my elementary years. together with
his
brother bobby, he did not yet have a bmw then, ray, who was not eating
his
heart out yet because of joao's hole-in-one, tito atienza, wherever
he maybe
now, and i think the sayson brothers, bob and eddie, or maybe not naughty
eddie, who even then was not cut out to be a scout, scoutmaster joe
would
lecture us about duty to God and country, teach us to tie and untie
knots,
make and unmake fire, and many other homely (?) things our own dr.
joe must
continue to be doing now for his children, his colleagues in the medical
service, i guess his batchmates, too, and definitely, his patients.
so early monday morning,
after clem cries, oh how she cries, our
very own dr. joe and so on, stalks into my room with stethosope around
his
necktied neck, confronts me about the incident last night with the
dreaded
dr. martinez, and proceeds to lecture me on his wholistic approach
to
medical care -- how they are carefully and meticulouly analyzing my
present
physical state and how to proceed with the surgery as they consider
me an
emergency patient, admitted just in the nick of time with massive infection
of my fraternity-initiated insides; how i am being closely monitored
by the
top doctors in the UERM, by the top surgeon, the chief cardiologist,
the
chief anethesiologist, the chief endocrinologist and my
gastroenterologist-brod, the A-team and no less. and all of these not
because my wife clem, ehem, can afford all these (they give the
same
service even to charity patients). they've even put me in a room just
across
father benedict's so he can minister to me everyday! thank you, thank
you.
but, more importantly, dr. joe and so on admonishes me i am also a
part of
the A-team, must cooperate, and do away with my psychiatric foibles.
finally, our very own dr. joe homilies, that the A-team can only be
as good
as God will allow us, so i better make my peace with Him, which, thanks
to
clem, nikki, judith, mommy, nanay and tatay, the elim community, the
dpwh
community, all of you out there hacking your machines and many, many
others,
i am fervently working on. after he is through, i give our very own
dr. joe
and so on my best scout's salute, to show him his hours with me and
the
other guys during our elementary days did not all go to waste, and
that
thence, everything is going to be A OK with me, even with the dreaded
dr.
martinez as a teammate. the whole morning each one of the A-team, except
oca
cabahug, my hard-to-get gastroenterologist-brod, would come to my room
to
give me the A OK for this afternoon's endoscopy.
the hourly monitor
true to her word, nanay arrives
very early that monday morning,
while clem is in the chapel, and proceeds to take over. she asks about
my
food, but i plead to her not to chew this for me. she checks the iv
and sees
it's almost finished, so she buzzes the nurse. i'm perspiring, and
she turns
my pillow. she's all over me, her nearing half-a-century old son. then
she
adds to my remaining anxieties by relating how her own gall bladder
was
taken out forty years ago, the water treatment she was given before
the
operation, and how it took all of five years for her to get back to
her
normal diet. every hour on the hour she is on the phone reporting everything
to tatay, from whom i inherited my anxieties about doctors and hospitals.
she's there when our very own dr. joe and so on and i exchange scout
salutes; she takes in all questions and words of advice given by each
member
of the A-team; she'll be there when brod oca cabahug finally makes
his
appearance; she'll be there when i am wheeled to the fuoroscopy room;
and
she'll be there still when i'm brought back to my room. no, there is
nothing
tatay, from whom i inherited my anxieties about you know what, will
miss in
this hospital sojourn of mine, nothing that will not be reported by
the
hourly monitor.
oca finally makes his appearance
oca cabahug, my gastroenterologist-brod
who we've been trying to get
in touch with since last saturday, finally makes his appearance that
monday
pm. according to him he was contacted by the hospital sunday night
for my
endoscopy, but more importantly brod alan mauricio phoned him to relay
the
order of their supremo doy vea, smart ceo and UP High '66, to look
after me
as a brod. naks, tunay na alpha sigman. then he lectures me about the
procedure they call endoscopy. they will introduce an instrument, the
endoscope, which he draws in the air with his forefinger as something
i
think is slightly bigger than a pendant, into my mouth, through the
esophagus all the way to my fraternity-initiated insides. through the
endoscope they will view my insides from a tv monitor, another instrument
inside that endoscope will also clear up what needs clearing up in
my ducts,
including the stones which had the gall to escape my bladder. not to
worry
(but who is worried), this is a simple procedure, and except for the
moment
when they introduce into my mouth the instrument, which i need to swallow,
i
will be totally asleep. talaga, ha?
end of his coffee!
at 3 pm they wheel me to
the fluoroscopy room. in the new calmness
of spirit, i breathe in "my Lord" and breathe out "my God". my wife
clem,
cousin of reta tan and eric ines, follows, reading over and over again
the
very powerful scripture based affirmations; of course nanay is there,
too,
so she can report everything to tatay; and then there is my private
nurse
and erick fraga, who has been interning for me for three days now
and is breathing in "my Lord" and breathing out "my God" with me. yes,
it's
like a small procession that we have all the way to the fluoroscopy
room.
and i feel a smile on my face. they bring me to where the x-ray machines
are, and clem and nanay take their places at the monitoring room. but
no
endoscopic intruments are installed as yet. we wait until the other
im-patients complain, "umalis muna kayo diyan, maraming nakapila".
only in
the philippines of my philippines! so they wheel me out to the corridor,
where i see the dreaded dr. martinez, even if he dons a bmw, stealthily
walking down maybe back to his office, obviously trying to avoid his
not-only-surgery-but-full-blown-psychiatric patient. until i shout
down at
him, "dr. martinez, dr. martinez". and he sheepishly walks back to
me. "na
TRO tayo, doc" (as in temporary restraining order like the one issued
on the
execution of child rapist leo echegaray). "oo, pero katulad ni echegaray,
temporary lang yan, dadaan at dadaan ka sa mga kamay ko," counters
the
dreaded dr. martinez and so on. fine, this breaks the ice, we're now
truly
A-teammates.
at 3:30 they wheel me back
to the fluoroscopy room. this time the
endoscopic intruments have been installed and inside is the immaculate
oca
cabahug, my hard-to-get gastroenterologist-brod, with his thick, white
mane,
necktied white, long-sleeved shirt and luminous x-ray vest. but we
have
another wait coming as the anethesiologist called in that he is caught
in
traffic at rm magsaysay. during the wait, i engage brod oca in cool,
small
talk about how we used to drink with the other brods at the paseo.
and now,
this drinking brod of mine will perform endoscopy on me. i casually
ask him
about the instrument he will put into my mouth and he shows me what
looks to
me as a six-inch microphone, definitely not the small pendant he earlier
drew in the air with his forefinger. and he even makes me feel the
front end
which is a bit rough, definitely not smooth, what with a camera in
there.
brod, mukhang pang-bakla ang gagamitin mo sa akin, wala bang panlalaki?
hoping against hope there could be a smaller instrument. pasensya ka
na
lang, pero kaya mo yan, masig ka di ba?
at 4 pm, the anesthesiologist
arrives. surprise of surprises, he is
eric nagtalon, UP Prep '69 and batchmate of my cousins santie (sandosenang
halo-halo) and bambi (odyssey). eric complains about the diggings of
my
dpwh. i hurriedly make an excuse-me-but-the-diggings-at-rm
magsaysay-are-by-dotc-and-not-by-my-dpwh because i want an anethesiologist
with a needle to inject me with, not an axe to grind.
finally, we get on with the
endoscopy. i am laid flat on my back,
and wide awake, i have to swallow the endoscope to open my esophagus
and
allow entry of the scope into my fraternity-initiated insides. oca
tries
once, i go aaaaargh; twice, i go aaaaaargh, again; and thrice, and
i go
aaaaargh, once more. by this time my clemmie cannot stand my aaaaarghs
no
longer and she stalks out of the monitoring room, but not my nanay,
who has
to monitor everything for tatay. brod oca cannot stand my aaaaarghs
any
longer, too, so he pighandles me to my side raises my iv connected
left arm,
and tries a fourth and final time. eric works the needle, not an axe,
into
me and i go totally asleep. i half wake up in my room two hours later
with a
very, very sore throat and i overhear nanay report to tatay that: "they
have
cleared his ducts but that they have also detected twelve stress ulcers
in
his intestines which means the END OF HIS COFFEE days". aaaaargh....
next, ray shares a rainbow
and the presidential spokesman speaks on
The Gall of My Stones, part V
UP
Prep 1966Butch, now you know!
