Our visit to the emergency room

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Before we talk about our Valentine’s Day outing, we have to report on its aftermath.

We got home around 5:45 p.m. After lugging our purchases into the house, we changed our clothes. Some people started unpacking the remaining bits of food while Rosario and I cornered Uncle Junior with our questions from the trip. Francesca complained of a pain in her abdomen and went to lie down.

We had a delicious meal of leftovers from the last few days and teased Manong Junior about his lack of cooking ability (he tried to cook rice while we were gone but according to Coreen, apparently it didn’t turn out very satisfactorily). Which led me to comment that the instructions of Great-grandfather Santiago to his sons had obviously not made it through to the current generations (Santiago told his sons that they all needed to know how to cook and how to cut hair, because then they would always be able to find a job as a cook or a barber, because people always need to eat and their hair will always grow and need cutting). To which Manong Junior replied that he might not know how to cook, but he knew how to circumcise! (Have we talked about any of the Ilokano terms of respect? Manong is actually the term for the oldest son in a family, but in practice it is used by people to show respect to an older male family member who isn’t a father or an uncle (like a brother or a cousin). The female equivalent is “Manang.”)
Perhaps we can elaborate on Manong Junior’s dinner table conversation at some other time (or perhaps not).

Francesca tried to eat a little rice and some vegetables and had a chocolate truffle for dessert. Then she went back to lie down again. Her cousin Holly Lou checked on her (Holly Lou has a bachelor’s degree in nursing and will be defending her master’s thesis in a few weeks). Holly reported back to us that she thought it might be indigestion.

Francesca came back to tell me that it was hurting more and she was starting to feel nauseous. Holly asked if Cesca wanted to go to the hospital and she managed a little nod. So Manong Junior was summoned and went around the corner to retrieve the car where it is parked inside the neighbor’s locked gate. He pulled up and Cesca, Holly, Sario and I piled into the back. Uncle Junior was flying down the highway and we soon pulled up at the local emergency room. Francesca was seen immediately. (Quite a difference from her six-hour wait in the emergency room of the local public health hospital in Seattle when she had her first (and only) gallbladder attack.) Holly stayed by Cesca’s bedside to translate and manage Cesca’s treatment for the family, while the rest of us sat in the waiting area (just a bench inside the doors and we were only about 20 feet from the curtained treatment area where Cesca was placed.

Holly delivered periodic reports. The first thing the doctor requested was a urine specimen, in which they found bacteria and red blood cells. This, along with Cesca’s pain, led the doctor to believe that Cesca had a UTI and a kidney stone, and that the bouncy ride down the mountain road from Baguio might have caused the stone to migrate into the ureter, where it causes intense pain. They wanted to give Cesca something for pain, but first they did a skin test to see if she was allergic to any pain medications. I told my nephew that this was another big difference from U.S. hospitals, which are so reliant on giving drugs - they first give you the pain medication and then if you turn out to be allergic to it, they have drugs to counteract the allergic response and then they try another analgesic (pain reliever). We wound up spending a lot of time in the waiting area talking about the U.S. medical system, various pharmaceutical companies (in general - not specific companies), and how Western academics and for-profit drug companies are combing the tropical rainforests all over the world looking for cures for cancer and AIDS.

In the meantime, the doctor gave Francesca a shot to stop muscle spasms so that she would be in less pain. It took a while, but Cesca started to feel marginally less pain. She has pain meds with her and wanted to go home, rather than stay at the hospital, so the doctor gave her a prescription for antibiotics and Uncle drove us all home (just a little more slowly than the trip to the emergency room).

The hospital is privately owned by a husband-wife team of doctors. Total bill for the whole trip: 495 pesos (about $10). Just a little difference from when Cesca went to the emergency in December with her first gallbladder attack, and we waited for six hours to be seen, spent three hours in the exam room, and got a bill for more than $2,000 (fortunately Cesca had been approved for charity care by the hospital, but they still sent a bill so she could see the charges).

Sorry, no photos. Although pictures of the medical center might be interesting, i decided to leave the camera at home.

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Comments

[Michelle]

Hope Cesca is better!
amazing, so much for so called "third world countries" and healthcare. Tell Cesca, I hope she feels better and to drink a lot of water. Hugs Cesca, Michelle

[Jeri]

I hope Francesca is doing better and that all is well. I am loving reading the blog! I am so happy you three were able to make this trip and are meeting so many of your relatives. This is an amazing opportunity. Thanks for taking us along.