(What) A Day at the Philippine Orthopedic Hospital

[tourist guide]

It's been there since I can remember as a kid--around the 1960s. I was with my dad visiting her mom who was confined for some bone problem.

Just the other day I was there with my wife and youngest kid for arm therapy. My kid imagined himself as Zorro and jumped from a height and fell using his arm as support. Result? Broken arm and wrist, the bone protruding. Yikes! I remembered when I and my crazy friends went kayaking on a dirty river.

But that was a month ago, and that day, we were there for check up and therapy. The docs there are good at their trade--wrenching back to position bones that break, bend, or detour from their supposed direction. Most patients were kids.

There were also old people like grandmas and grandpas with leg and arm casts. I thought I heard one kid, after seeing them, shouting, "Dad, did they also play Zorro?" The old folks looked at the kid inquiringly.

There was a lot of waiting. You had to be at the hospital at 5 am because of the long line of people. Then you get a blue card and wait at the over-crowded waiting area. It was uncomfortable waiting there, what with the Ah1n1 scare.

There were all kinds of eerie smells emanating from anywhere. The hospital building looked like one of those we see in World War II documentaries, and my imagination began working--I imagined the sound of planes dropping whistling bombs, and it was not hard to do that. The building looked like it had a direct hit.

Then I froze! Some white-clad guys were carrying Michael Jackson into the OPD section! Then I saw it was just a look-alike. Then other Hollywood look-alikes started pouring in. Dean Martin kept going to and fro like he was looking for his wheel chair, Bradd Pitt with an arm sling enjoyed talking with the young ladies, Peter Parker alias Spider Man thought I could not recognize him in a small corner, and Jane Fonda was complaining to a nurse.

The heat was too much to bear, but I kept my wife and kid entertained with my silly stories and as I made faces. Then the others in the crowd started enjoying them, too. The air from the fans was hot and smelly. I thought some guys there forgot to take a bath. Then, amid all these, there was a nice-looking lady who kept talking and talking and filled the air with the smell of her breath, while another coughed incessantly.

The narrow corridor where we were siting along were full of people and patients, and yet, now and then, huge beds on wheels would come along carrying disfigured patients, causing heavy traffic. One young woman in a wheel chair looked like she was crucified with the way her bandages were fixed to wood struts, and then the cross collapsed on her.

Then Incredible Hulk suddenly appeared! He announced some names of patients to be checked, and my kid's name was finally mentioned. He and my wife went in; I was left outside with the crowd, waiting. Everywhere I looked, patients with arm or leg casts walked unsteadily like zombies. I looked for Michael Jackson because it seemed apt for him to sing Thriller. Suddenly, Super Boy with cast arm came out running from a room pursued by an energetic and shouting woman, who turned out to be Super Girl.

Finally, my wife and kid emerged from the compact check-up room. My wife was smiling, and that meant we were ready to go home. I smiled back. But our kid looked unhappy. I asked my wife, "What's with the small kid?"

"Hungry," my wife, Linda, replied softly.

As we left the hospital (we were there like 5 hours) I reflected: though that hospital needs lots of improvement, miracles are an everyday thing there. Patients start out badly disfigured, and when they leave, they look much better, like Bradd Pitt.

On the sidewalk of the hospital, we were met by Romeo and Juliet (earlier, I had been observing these sweethearts). It turned out Romeo had been watching my kid and he had concern for him. While perched on his crutches he showed my kid his injured leg. "Your arm is gonna heal in no time, kid," Romeo said. "It'll also start shedding off skin like my leg does."

My wife and kid looked at his horrific-looking leg and smiled at him. I looked at his pretty sweetheart, Juliet, and she smiled back at us. Then we left them.

In these islands, no one is a stranger. There are only family, friends, and new friends--even in musty hospitals.

[The Dane]

I hate hospitals...

I hope your kid gets better soon, sounds like a pretty bad injury...

[smallbird]

Same here, I hope "Zorro" gets well soon.

Come to think of it while Zorro, the gang of Ocean 11 or 12 or 13 , Romeo and Juliet are waiting to be called for a chance to be treated in a government institution ( deprived from a long due overhaul) and Bruce Banner; busy fulfilling his duties, "somebody" is on quarantine in a high end private hospital in Alabang.

what a pity?!