Being a medical student enrolled at St. Luke’s, I always pass by the Medical Center. The first time I went there, I couldn’t help but be awed at how beautiful the Medical Center is- looking more like a hotel than a hospital. Plus, the Operating Room visit made possible by our Surgery Clinics made me even more amazed at how beautiful a hospital St. Luke’s is.
But today, we went to Bulacan Provincial Hospital. I’ve always heard horrible stories about this hospital, how my relatives always try to avoid going there as much as they can whenever they need to be hospitalized. My Tita Bonita who gave birth there, told me about how pitiful it is to stay there.
When we arrived there, at first it was all okay. I mean, it’s a government hospital, so it’s understandable that it’s no St. Luke’s Medical Center in splendor. The wards were similar with those of the Medical Center’s, with hospital beds side by side in one room. Only, there were no curtains to separate the individual beds to give each patient some privacy, and there were ceiling fans instead of airconditioners. Also, there were no doors separating the wards from the halls of the hospital, but only a wall with a wide opening. So you can imagine how just about anyone can freely enter and exit the wards, and how someone passing by can see all of the patients inside with just one glance.
But when I saw the ICU I was talking about in the entry above, that was when I realized how pitiful government hospitals really are.
But today, we went to Bulacan Provincial Hospital. I’ve always heard horrible stories about this hospital, how my relatives always try to avoid going there as much as they can whenever they need to be hospitalized. My Tita Bonita who gave birth there, told me about how pitiful it is to stay there.
When we arrived there, at first it was all okay. I mean, it’s a government hospital, so it’s understandable that it’s no St. Luke’s Medical Center in splendor. The wards were similar with those of the Medical Center’s, with hospital beds side by side in one room. Only, there were no curtains to separate the individual beds to give each patient some privacy, and there were ceiling fans instead of airconditioners. Also, there were no doors separating the wards from the halls of the hospital, but only a wall with a wide opening. So you can imagine how just about anyone can freely enter and exit the wards, and how someone passing by can see all of the patients inside with just one glance.
But when I saw the ICU I was talking about in the entry above, that was when I realized how pitiful government hospitals really are.
Intensive Care Unit. As far as I know, and as far as I’ve seen on TV or in the movies, it’s an area that has the most restrictions. You’re supposed to wear a gown or scrubs, a mask, a cap, booties, etc. Ok, I’m talking about the required attire inside the Operating Room, but that’s how someone is supposed to be in the ICU too right? You have to be sterile. And visitors are not allowed unless it’s absolutely necessary.
But the ICU in the Provincial Hospital was different. Way different. Had it not been for the sign made of cardboard with the letters I C U written on it, I would not have realized the area Tata Itoy’s been staying in, is the ICU. The only difference it had from the wards I described earlier, was that it had a glass door, and an airconditioner. Apart from that, nothing else. There were also no curtains, I didn’t see anyone wearing gowns or scrubs aside from the nurses checking up on the patients. There was a sign on the door that said “Bawal ang dalaw”, but, bawal nga ba? My tatay freely entered the ICU to look at Tata Itoy, and I even told him to not enter because the sign said so. But apparently, di naman bawal. Anyone could freely enter the ICU. Even the ones without business there could enter. I watched in disbelief as people coming from outside the hospital opened the doors of the ICU, and entered without caution. No one was even there to guard the ICU, and make sure that the rules were followed. Not even the nurses at the Nurses’ Station situated beside it cared. And the glass doors of the ICU- the only piece of equipment that served to separate the delicate patients from the rest of the dirty outside world- wouldn’t even close completely. Everytime someone would enter, the doors would be left ajar.
So for that time that we stayed there outside while I listened to Inang Yola and my tatay talking about Tata Itoy’s condition, I made myself useful. I closed the doors completely after someone came in or out of the ICU.
Grabe. While every patient confined at St. Luke’s Medical Center settled for the best medical service, the patients at the Provincial Hospital were content with the acceptable. Though at times, when you look at it more closely, it’s not even acceptable.
I felt guilty right there, knowing how much money I spend on my tuition fee when it can help a lot of people there with their health problems. I remembered Julia Stiles in “The Prince and Me”, where her target work places were countries where medical services were most needed, instead of places where her career as a doctor would flourish.
I wish I could also sincerely think that way.
I’d be a hypocrite if I say I’d like to work there at the Provincial Hospital instead of at St. Luke’s Medical Center. I’d be plastik if I say I’ll settle for the passable standards of the Provincial Hospital instead of the first-rate principles of the Medical Center.
But there is one thing I am sincere about, no pretensions whatsoever: I want to help other people.
Yes, I still think of my own welfare, of what’s also good for me, because if not, there’s no doubt I’d work as a doctor with free services. I’m on my 2nd year as a medical student, and I still have 3 more years before I finally graduate from medschool. I still have 3 more years to finally realize how I could help other people with my chosen profession. I may not be as exceptional as Patch Adams, but I know my desire to help is just as sincere as his.
And it’s more than closing faulty ICU doors.
But the ICU in the Provincial Hospital was different. Way different. Had it not been for the sign made of cardboard with the letters I C U written on it, I would not have realized the area Tata Itoy’s been staying in, is the ICU. The only difference it had from the wards I described earlier, was that it had a glass door, and an airconditioner. Apart from that, nothing else. There were also no curtains, I didn’t see anyone wearing gowns or scrubs aside from the nurses checking up on the patients. There was a sign on the door that said “Bawal ang dalaw”, but, bawal nga ba? My tatay freely entered the ICU to look at Tata Itoy, and I even told him to not enter because the sign said so. But apparently, di naman bawal. Anyone could freely enter the ICU. Even the ones without business there could enter. I watched in disbelief as people coming from outside the hospital opened the doors of the ICU, and entered without caution. No one was even there to guard the ICU, and make sure that the rules were followed. Not even the nurses at the Nurses’ Station situated beside it cared. And the glass doors of the ICU- the only piece of equipment that served to separate the delicate patients from the rest of the dirty outside world- wouldn’t even close completely. Everytime someone would enter, the doors would be left ajar.
So for that time that we stayed there outside while I listened to Inang Yola and my tatay talking about Tata Itoy’s condition, I made myself useful. I closed the doors completely after someone came in or out of the ICU.
Grabe. While every patient confined at St. Luke’s Medical Center settled for the best medical service, the patients at the Provincial Hospital were content with the acceptable. Though at times, when you look at it more closely, it’s not even acceptable.
I felt guilty right there, knowing how much money I spend on my tuition fee when it can help a lot of people there with their health problems. I remembered Julia Stiles in “The Prince and Me”, where her target work places were countries where medical services were most needed, instead of places where her career as a doctor would flourish.
I wish I could also sincerely think that way.
I’d be a hypocrite if I say I’d like to work there at the Provincial Hospital instead of at St. Luke’s Medical Center. I’d be plastik if I say I’ll settle for the passable standards of the Provincial Hospital instead of the first-rate principles of the Medical Center.
But there is one thing I am sincere about, no pretensions whatsoever: I want to help other people.
Yes, I still think of my own welfare, of what’s also good for me, because if not, there’s no doubt I’d work as a doctor with free services. I’m on my 2nd year as a medical student, and I still have 3 more years before I finally graduate from medschool. I still have 3 more years to finally realize how I could help other people with my chosen profession. I may not be as exceptional as Patch Adams, but I know my desire to help is just as sincere as his.
And it’s more than closing faulty ICU doors.
