sibling love

 I know that over the past few days, my view of medicine has been dark (because of the toxicity).  However, there are daily events and commentaries happening within the wards and ICUs that are often miraculous.  These events make me want to continue going on becoming a doctor.  Such is the case of AO. 

No, I will not be sharing the clinical details of her case for a medical discussion.  I wish to share the vents because of the lesson beyond medicine that it has taught me.  

AO was admitted due to incoherence and was referred to me because of anuria or absence of urine output.  We went about our medical management.  But what was more amazing to me was that every time I went to attend to her, it was her brother who was with her.  I will never forget this brother.  For one, he had the same name as my dad.  And he watched over the patient.  Every day.  Each day.  With no reliever.

As time passed by, I began to know more about the family.  Yes, AO was married, but barely saw her only daughter.  I never got to find out what happened to her husband.   As circumstances would have it, she would now live with her brother, who would take her to the doctor and care for her.  And it was just the two of them left. 

I grew more and more amazed as the days passed because Mr. JL, the brother, was very much involved in patient care.  A kind man, very decent, he would always thank me every time I chatted with them.  I noted that he called ALL of the nurses by first name.  He would update me on every detail regarding her sister: what she ate and didn’t eat, how much urine was in the foley catheter, what stories and in what language she talked that day, how her shoulders were hunched today and so on.  There was such an involvement of this brother and such compassion that I have not seen of a sibling in a long time.  Spouses and children, yes.  But of siblings, this was very rare.  His reply was always the same, "Eh kami na lang po ang magkasama."

As fate would have it, Mrs AO would pass away after eight days of hospital confinement.  But in all that time, there was no angry word from Mr. JL.  At the end of it all, he would contact me and thank me for my services and for caring for her sister.  He would request for a discount because his hospital bill amounted to Php 500,000.  Yes, the cost of medical care.  But there was no hint of complaint in his voice.  Only an acceptance.  That it was fate.  That his sister was in a better place. 

As a token of my admiration for him, I would text him, “Thank you very much for devotedly taking care of Mrs. AO.  Where is the wake?”

I was more surprised with his reply.   “Wala pong wake doktora.  It costs Php __ for the direct cremation, no casket and no wake.  Simple lang po lahat.  Pinagdasal ko lang po siya sa church ng 9 days.  We are just waiting for the death certificate.  God bless and Buddha bless.”

I guess it is a pleasure for me to take care of patients like this.  In the brink of death and in sickness, I find that people can react in two very polarizing ways: forget family, or stick together until the end.  And seeing families stick together like glue, share kindness with others is always a sight to behold in this seemingly hopeless world of ours.

My lesson learned and relearned is this: in the end, it will always, always be your family.  And more special in this case is the love for siblings.

Many thanks, God bless and Buddha bless, Mr. JL and Mrs. AO.