Memories of Jollibee and the ER: of how a simple act (or a great one) can turn the mood around

Everyday is a miracle

People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle.
But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin
air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle
which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green
leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes.
All is a miracle.

-=Thich Nhat Hanh=-

My memories of Jollibee would alway be linked to an event that happened to me in my 1 year stint in the Emergency Room. It was a typical day of toxicity and a never-ending stream of patients. As the day wore on there was less and less available beds and more and more irritable people. That was still a few hours before noon. 

It was early in the day and the mood of some of the staff and some of the patients and some of the relatives were already turning sour. In came a patient complaining with abdominal pain and dysuria. She was febrile and was really in distress because of the pain. Lucky for me a bed was just emptied by another patient. After quickly running for a fresh set of bedcovers while assisting the patient, I continued to get her full medical and personal history, with her husband quietly listening to our conversation. After the quick assessment, I explained to them my initial diagnosis and told the diagnostic exams and the initial management while waiting for the results. 

Like most of the patients who opt to consult in the Emergency Room, their concern was how long would it take for the results come out. My 'de-kahon' answer would be it would take around 30 minutes to an hour for the results to come out depending on how abnormal the result would be and depending on the load of patients. The patient was relieved to hear that. Ten minutes came, twenty, thirty, still there were no signs of the results. More patients came and even less were discharged. Come noon there were already signs that food would have to wait until at least 4 pm. 

Checking once in a while on the patient when I was able to pass by their bed, the husband finally asked when the results would be out. It was already more than an hour when the blood and urine specimen was taken. It was a bad sign and it was partly what I said to the husband. When they take longer to release the results, it would mean that a second reading was being done to confirm the initial result. They do not usually release these results. After talking to the him, I quickly took a detour to the laboratory to ask for the initial results. Yes, it was bad news. Her results and her symptoms combined warranted admission, just for a day or two for antibiotics to be given intravenously. 

A hand to care, a hand to help

That was a news that she didn't want to hear. She wanted to be discharged. My blood glucose nearing the low border, I sternly told her the reasons behind the admission and the risks if she opts to be discharged. Sometimes I do that. Be the bad person to tell the patient what needs to be done, or else. And most of the time its a wonder and most of the time the results come out good. She still wanted to be discharged. The husband asked if he could take the opinion of another doctor, his brother, who was a consultant at the hospital. ONE. BIG. OOOPS. I stood my ground and said that I would rather see her admitted than not. Glad that they consented for antibiotics to be given while they were waiting for the second opinion, I went on to see my other patients.

Taking a short break behind the nurse's station. A man, dressed like a bodyguard approached our charge nurse, asking for how many staff was there in the ER at that time. It was not that that got my attention it was his follow up phrase, 'including the staff at the pediatric ER, the guards, the nursing aides and the guards.' And without another word he went out of the ER and left. It was another for a moment or two the charge nurse and I was speechless until I asked what it was all about. Not another incident report we hoped.

An hour or two after lunch, the second opinion came. Which thankfully was the same as mine. But the patient was still adamant. She wanted to go home. I told her that there was no choice but for her to sign our Discharge Against Medical Advice form. But I told he I wont release her until the loading dose of the medication was given at at least the IVF would be near empty. That would take at least until the end of my shift.

It was nearing 3 in the afternoon and most of us haven't eaten our lunch and hypoglycemia is starting to set in. When like a superhero, the anonymous man in grey walks in with several bags of Jollibee and 3 or 4, 1.5 liters of softdrinks. It was fit for the whole staff of the ER. He approached our charge nurse and asked where he could place the feast he had brought in. Still having no idea that it was for us, the charge nurse and I stared at the man. Realizing we had no idea, he told us that his boss was one of our patients and asked him to buy us lunch. I wasn't able to hear the whole story having to attend to another patient. The anonymous man created a buzz and as if the simple act of giving had created an electricity of good vibes. It lifted up the spirits of the staff even if we haven't had time to eat the food.

It was indeed an incident to report, a story to be told. At least for me, that several times that a single act of kindness can turn one's day around. I saw a day barreling towards being called a bad day take a u-turn. It was later on while finally writing my discharge instructions for my patient that I came to know that it was my patient, her husband, were the boss of that anonymous man. After an exchange of thank you's, I watched them being assisted by the anonymous man. It wasn't just another day.

P.S. Still have to find my photos that I wanted to post with this rant.