Goodwill and Professional Fees

I just finished surgery to a 65 year old female with an inguinal mass. In the medical sense, there is nothing remarkable in this case. The woman hails from an outlying barrio in our town of San Jose (Batangas, Philippines). She was quite nervous with the procedure. After the operation, I had a warm talk with the relatives, assuring them that everything is OK and that the procedure went out fine. As I was about to leave, the patient's daughter approached me and handed me a basketful of eggs. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my professional fee. No kidding...Yes, EGGS!

In a society trapped between the rural and the cosmopolitan way of thinking, one can just smile and have mixed feelings with this goodwill gift. Being a city surgeon fixated with monetary rewards from paying patients and HMOs, and one who balances his bankbook like a trapeeze artist, I was held back. How can these eggs pay for my bills? Will it fill my gas tank? Will this send my child to a respectable school? Moreso, will I be able to eat all of them before they become rotten? I might have to redistribute them to a relative or a neighbor.

I remember the first time this happened to me. Seven years ago, when I was just starting to be surgeon, I was given a live goose inside a bag right at the door of the operating room. That patient, who I helped cure from a septic condition due to an obstructed bile duct stone, jumped the very moment she saw me , hugged me and handed the bag. I just realized later that she had been waiting for me the whole day. It has been a months after her operation. I would have forgotten about her had it not been a fact that she was almost dead when i fist saw her at the emergency room. The risk for death from an operation in that condition was unmistakably high. But surgery was the only way out. Armed with a knife, knowledge and a prayer, our team was succesful to have salvaged the patient out of danger. Her gratitude for her new life since then made her promise to me that I would be included in her prayers so that other people needing my help would be cured the same way she was healed.

I am not new to people giving gifts in lieu of professional fees. It just happens and they do exist. I just think about the trouble they had in preparing for these gifts. It could have been their food for the night, it could have been their earnings for the week, they could have exchanged it for some of their precious stuff, it could have come from their savings, they could have travelled great distances just to get it for you. In short, giving these gifts could have really mattered a lot to them. And I have the capacity to take it for granted.

So whenever i encounter another these gifts, I take it with a smile with the lightness of my heart. These gifts might not equal our monetary expectations but they will remain to be precious in my heart. For it is the smile of a happy patient which rewards me the most.

Kites and Memories

As I was thinking of what activity to do for my son Rael and his cousins this weekend, I chanced upon several commercial kites being sold in front of a department store. Then an idea stuck on my mind. Why not take them on a Sunday drive and go flying kites?

Kite flying must be an fun filled activity for a family. To start with, kites should ideally be created from scratch. Build them from raw materials and let the flyer understand how each part connects with another and how they make the kite fly. This will surely make it more fun. So I started with the frame made of light chinese bamboo, measured it meticulously. As I was cutting the paper and getting my fingers glued upon, I stopped, headed to the toy store and brought the commercial kites. What the heck.

The next part in kite flying after securing your kite is finding a perfect or near perfect location. I thought of Manila Bay but thought otherwise as the sea breeze might swallow the kite and snap it from the string. Then there is the Global City at Fort Bonifacio, hmmmm...lots of open space, fair winds present, and it is near restaurants. But as I was passing by UP Diliman at the other end of the metropolis, everything fell right into its place. There are a number of pocket fields set in a nostalgic campus known to us. Spaces vast enough to fly kites. I bet you could land an airplane in one of them. This is the place!

The next day we packed up our kites, brought a cooler filled with drinks and a lot of ice. It was a quick 15 minute drive to the university. The first site of the field exhilirated the exitement of the kids. We parked under a tree in the middle of the field and practically ran to the center. The sun was cooperating, it was hiding in one of the clouds. Around, you could see the sprawling field, rolling and all. It was not green, what would you expect from a hot summer afternoon in the Philippines? But it was perfect for me.

Then the moment of truth came. I, being the eldest male and the one whose idea of kite flying started, was tasked to fly the first piece. I must admit, the 4 boys looked up on me as an idol, somebody who is supposed to know everything in this planet. I must not fail.

The last time I flew a kite was 24 years ago. I remember hopping from rooftop to rooftop among the houses at Gov. Forbes Avenue in the Sta. Cruz district Manila. The roofs in that dense district were layed out side by side collectively forming a virtual field. Back then, we would lace the kites with finely ground glass glued to the string. This would enable our kite to cut the opponent's in a dogfight. We played rough then. And so did everyone else in that community.

Going back to the present time... there I was holding the light nylon string. Fifteen meters across the other side of the string was Gabriel, my nephew, waiting for my cue to release the kite. "One. Two. Threeeee!" The kite was hurled to the sky, wandering for that moment, untamed. As I quickly pulled the string from my end, the kite followed with each of my maneuvers. It slowly ascended into the blue sky like a colorful ghost, friendly and inviting. In my mind I could see the pupils of everyone's eyes following my kite with awe and excitement. It was truly rewarding.

As the kite flew steadily floating on air. My son and my nephews took turns holding the string, making it steady. I could see the eagerness in their faces. Never have they flown a kite. For that moment I was proud, proud that I initiated them into this endeavor, proud that I was successful in making their faces smile. They enjoyed every moment of it.

It was good that Denise, my sister-in-law, brought some of her newly baked fudge brownies. We had a picnic right under the canopy of a century old acacia tree. Boy, that was a swell merienda.

A few minutes later, other people came. Some came with kites too, someone brought his pet dog for a training, some played golf, others just curiously watched along. The scene was happy, happy enough that it seemed surreal. For a moment time stopped, as if I was watching a movie in slow motion, sepia photographs being flashed one by one, no sound. Happy.

As I switched back to reality, the others were all set to pack up. Driving back, we cruised one last loop around the campus, recollecting days in college and how it was then, how it changed. But that’s another story.

That night, we all exchanged our experiences, how we enjoyed the activity and how we will one day experience it again. To everyone’s mind, we wished it will be tomorrow.