I’m a medical intern in a government hospital.  And with the volume of patients, it’s easy to get their faces lost in the crowd. Sometimes, the staff, doctors included, become cold and forgetful that patients have faces. They forget that patients have dignity.

Katz Festojo at her work station

My patient, Felipe Reyes (not his real name), a victim of stabbing had been difficult to work with from the first time I tried to get a blood extraction.  He would always be obviously irritated, uncooperative and VERY difficult to work with. 

Oftentimes he would refuse the procedures he needed to undergo.  Trying his hardest: negotiating, cursing just so that no doctor or nurse would touch him. So much so that my resident, his attending physician, would need to resort to threats and intimidation just to get him to undergo a necessary ancillary procedure. 

Being the Surgical ICU intern, I was tasked with his blood extractions. And I did NOT want to do them. This guy was always yelling at his doctors, always complaining, always making excuses.  Coming into the room, I was prepared to make some excuse about the patient refusing the procedure.  But  when I faced him, I felt the Lord.  The word “KINDNESS” popped into my head.  I could have left, but I really had no choice.  “KINDNESS” daw, sabi ni Lord.

“Opportunities to share the love of Jesus Christ come everyday. We just have to take them.”

So, I introduced myself.  Asked for his name.  Where he was from.   He was a stabbing ‘victim’ from Cavite.  Thus, we exchanged stories as I stuck needles into him about 5 times. I learned about his family.  The reasons for the incident.

The entire time, he was rude. He was bossy. He would order me, in an irritated voice: “Kunin mo nga ang tissue” so he could spit into it.  I found myself gritting my teeth as I smiled at him and patiently handed him tissues to wipe sputum off his mouth.  I would throw away his infected tissues. He would have me pick up some other things for him.

He needed his urine catheter to be changed.  He had been refused several times already.  Even when talking to the resident doctors.   I was tired. I wanted to leave. Nevertheless, the word “KINDNESS” kept popping into my head.  Thus, I explained to him the procedure, half expecting him to refuse. Afterwards, I informed him that I had to leave and someone else would do the job.

He told me, “ikaw na lang.”   I was struck. Something as simple as asking a patient’s name and history, I acknowledged him as a person.  And tears stung my eyes because he was not being acknowledged as a person the 5 days he had been in the Surgical ICU. People knew him as a patient, a case.  I knew him as Mr. Reyes. So I did the procedure and he did not complain. Before my eyes, he was changing.  I imagined a wounded animal in the way he was reacting initially. Now, he was being respectful, mindful, acting like a person. He was asking me to do it because he didn’t trust anyone else to.

When I was going to leave the room for a different shift, I informed him that I would be leaving. He expressed his disappointment saying, “wala na akong kakampi dito.” I couldn’t find any words to reply with. I only knew that this was a great milestone. He trusted me enough to want me there. 

I didn’t show this man any extraordinary kindness – apart from that what was due to him. Then I realized what a rare gift that was. To have someone offer them the dignity that is due them — the dignity that God intended for him.   When we are the face of Jesus to others, we don’t even have to do anything out of the ordinary.  We only have to see them with God’s eyes.  See the dignity that He sees. Want for them the beauty and the privilege that HE intended. Sometimes all our patients need is for us to see them as they are.

When I wander PGH, I wonder if compassion is dead.  As doctors, we see death and destruction day to day. It’s commonplace. It’s thoroughfare.  And yet a bit of kindness to a person who needs it is light. Patient Reyes helped me see light in the darkness of everyday. 

Sometimes, I still feel disappointed in myself for the missed opportunities in proclaiming Jesus to the world. But God is still good, and He always reminds me that his love is available, even through simple works.  I think I feel that it wasn’t me showing God’s love to them. It was my patients showing God’s love to me. Isn’t that ironic?

- KATZ FESTEJO, North District E

If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.

Happy moments, praise God.

Difficult moments, seek God.

Quiet moments, worship God.

Painful moments, trust God.

Every moment, thank God