Day 20 - Homecoming

Yesterday was an incredible blur.

I thought that discharging mom would be an easy task, and I was inevitably proven wrong.

My cousins picked me up from the hotel and we headed to the hospital. It was only 11:00. We were making good time. I wanted this to be quick, in-and-out, and back to Cabanatuan.

Tess and I went to Dr. R's office. I had to pay the balance of his professional fees, plus pick up the risperdal injections. For one reason or another, this turned into a long process. I think it felt long because I was in a hurry to get mom discharged. I wanted to get her the f**k out of the hospital.

The doctor wanted to meet with us... I guess some parting words of encouragement. Fine. Bless us and be gone with us. We had a good meeting... basically a re-hash of everything that had already been drilled into our heads at this point.... compliance, compliance, compliance.

Then he said, "I should be in the clinic around 1 or 1:30... I will say goodbye to you and your mom then..."

I said, "Ok" (even though I thought to myself, "Dude, we're going to be so out of here in the next 30 minutes.")

The secretary was kind enough to pack the Risperdal for us in a large orange styrofoam cooler with ice. Thank God for that. I didn't have time to pick up a cooler or ice, and thought that we'd have to stop at a supermarket on the way home.

Tess toted the cooler and followed me to the main hospital where mom was kept. At that point, we split up... I asked her to wait with mom in the Community Center, and I would stand in the long snaking line to settle the bill at the accounts office. (Of course, this office had to be in the hottest location of the hospital and I was at that point drenched in sweat. Even my heavy duty hanky was saturated.)

Tess came down from the Community Center about twenty minutes later with a slip of paper; I looked at the paper. Tess told me (in her broken English) that I needed to get a sign-off from the pharmacy and clear her account there as well.

What? Account at the pharmacy? How many f**king departments did I need to pay off?

I continued to wait in line as it was almost my turn. The cashier had recognized me from before. I told her that I wanted to pay off the balance of mom's account and presented her with the slip of paper.

She instructed me to go to the pharmacy to get their signature first and then return.

Excuse me? I just waited in line for how long and you want me to go to another line? The cashier gave me an empathetic look, but that was all. So, I instructed Tess to keep mom company while I ran over to the pharmacy.

I arrived in the pharmacy to meet another long snaking line. I conceded that this is the way of the Philippines. I was irritated, but had no choice. After about 30 minutes it was finally my turn. I said no words, but simply presented the discharge slip to the pharmacist. She'd know what to do with it.

Our transaction took less than 5 minutes. She checked mom's account on the computer, and then signed off on the discharge slip.

Back to the Cashier's Office.

The line was shorter this time, but I didn't care. I was one step closer to getting mom discharged from this hell-hole. We would have enough time to grab some lunch at Jollibee, her favorite place.

The cashier politely said, "Come back in one hour. The person responsible for discharging is gone for lunch."

I think I literally said, "Are you f**king serious? I came all the way from Washington DC to get my mother discharged and you're telling me to wait?!"

"Come back in one hour."

Ugh. Fine. One hour. There was nothing she could do about it, and nothing I could do about it.

I ran upstairs to the Community Center and the nurses buzzed me through the double doors. It was lunch time... the nurses already started serving lunch to the patients, and mom was queued in line. I briefed mom and Tess on the situation, and conceded defeat.

"Tess, let's go to lunch."

"Ok."

Jojo just managed to show up at the community center after parking the car so the three of us trekked to Jollibee with the large orange styrofoam cooler in hand. (I wanted to leave it at the center, but the head nurse suggested we take it because it had expensive drugs. Fine.)

At Jollibee... more waiting in line. It was peak lunch hour, we were at a large university. Of course, this place is packed. At this point I was numbed to the throngs of people, the laughing giggling school girls, people texting left and right. Just numb. I stood in line placed our order (which they subsequently f**ked up) and we ate our lunch.

Ironically, the process of waiting in line, ordering, receiving, and then eating our food took almost one hour. That's fast food in the Philippines.

I finished my meal ahead of Tess and Jojo. I needed a cigarette desperately. I didn't have any and could buy a single smoke from any of the street-side vendors for 2 pesos ($0.04.) In my rapidly developing, yet broken tagalog, I said, "Bumalik nako sa labas... Akin gusto ng cigarillo..." (I'm going outside... I need a cigarette.) I would return to the business office, and then meet them at the center.

After a long-needed soothing smoke, I went back to the cashier's office. This time, I waited in another line for "patients being discharged." Hmph. Ok.

Finally it was my turn. I presented the discharge slip to the accountant.

"Come back in one hour."

"Excuse me?"

"Come back in one hour."

In my head, I thought, yet again, "Are you F**KING SERIOUS?"

Fine.

I will wait one hour.

Right here.

In front of you.

Arms crossed.

Glaring.

And I did.

At one point, I went to the previously-empathetic cashier and asked her if there was anything that she could do.

"No. Please wait one hour."

I re-assumed my solemn, arms-crossed, glaring, peaceful stance in front of the discharge cashier as I watched them do whatever it was that they did.

During the waiting period, Tess stopped by to check in. Accompanying her was a cousin I met last week, Ferdie. He's a grad student at UST. I explained the situation and asked him (he understood and spoke english extremely well... enough to understand my rapid-fire explanation) to ask the cashier why they were so backed up. He returned and said that they were backed up with discharges.

I asked, "Is there anyone I can pay off...?"

"Mmm.... no. That wouldn't work here."

So, I continued to wait.

An hour had passed, and finally they called my mom's name. FINALLY. I grabbed the paperwork from their hands (it was a carbonized, dot-matrix, itemized print-out of her expenses.) The accountant then instructed me to go to the cashier to pay the balance.

Great. Waiting in another f**king line.

At this point, I was in "whatever"-mode. This line wasn't as long or torturous. I knew that it was the final hurdle (fingers crossed.) I handed the same cashier the discharge paperwork and even the exact amount of money-owed. She did her thing, handed back the paperwork, and I dashed off to the center.

I arrived upstairs to discover Tess waiting alone at a table. Dr. R was in consultation with a patient and his family at another table. The nurses waved me over and explained that Dr. R wanted to speak with us before discharging mom.

So he was right all along... I wasn't going to get out as fast as I had anticipated.

Long story short... the nurse brought mom over to our table, and we met with Dr. R. He checked in with mom... asked her what she will do when she gets home... will she stay compliant with her medicine...etc.

Yes Yes Yes Fine.

I could tell that she was anxious to get the hell out of there as well.

A final shake of the hands among all... we bid our farewell to Dr. R. Mom hustled back to her room to get her belongings.

Mom, Tess, and I walked to the parking garage where Jojo waited. As we walked outside, I looked over at mom and could tell from the look on her face that she was in no rush. She wanted to enjoy being outside and free.

Four hours later... we arrived in Cabanatuan, home sweet home.

I crashed big time and still feel exhausted from yesterday. Utterly amazing how taxed I feel.