“I appreciate your time and your concern, Doctor, but I have a strong faith in God and I believe He will see me through this.” This is what Maru Johnson said as I attempted to persuade him to follow the cardiologist’s recommendation to have coronary artery bypass surgery (CABG or ‘cabbage’). Just a few days prior he had a major heart attack that landed him in the ICU.
Carlos Garcia in the weeks before me, I read about how they had spent considerable time telling him about dialysis and how they recommended that he start dialysis as soon as possible or he would soon die. I read how they had spent even more time trying to get him to agree to do it after he had adamantly refused time and time again.
I saw the 2 burly police officers in the hallway before I saw my patient. They wore latex gloves, ready to take action no matter how messy it got. I didn’t think much of it. Blue men were not an uncommon sight along the hospital wards of San Francisco General Hospital.
I had been seeing Josephine Ocampo in my clinic roughly every other month for nearly 2 years. But it wasn’t until she said, “I’m going to the Philippines tomorrow to bury my mother,” that I noticed the maiden name on her chart—Nisnisan.