Date: Tue, 5 Feb 2013 12:31:09 -0800 (PST)
From: John Michaels <mmanlookin@yahoo.com>
Subject: Filipino Love - chapter 44

			       FILIPINO LOVE
				    BY
				    JM

Email:  mmanlookin@yahoo.com

Disclaimers and other info:  see chapter one

This story is my personal intellectual property.  Any reproduction without
my express written consent is forbidden.

This and all subsequent chapters are dedicated to my own
Filipino Love!!


			    CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR


     When Sanie went down, all hell broke lose!  Ronni tore himself from my
arms and raced to his grandmother's side, lifted her head and putting it in
his lap, gently stroked her face.  He was keening softly, as he rocked back
and forth, the tears pouring down his face.  Marcus was literally holding
Venus up, as color slowly returned to her face, her own face flooded with
tears as she looked from her fallen mother to the man weakly struggling to
break the hold Carl had on him as he tried to get to Sanie.  I was
immediately at Ronni's side, putting my arm around him, showing him love
and support in the only way I could right now, letting him know I was with
him in this.  Raymar grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and a towel,
and approached, handing it to Ronni, while the others huddled together,
clearly shocked and startled by what was happening.

     "Wet this and wipe her face with it," he said.  "It will help revive
her.  Don't worry, Ronni.  She'll be ok.  She only fainted, and the sand is
soft.  She didn't hurt herself when she fell."  Raymar placed his hand
reassuringly on Ronni's shoulder, then stepped back to give him room to do
as he said.  Ronni wet the towel and gently wiped his beloved lola's face,
the tears flowing unabated as he continued to keen softly.  His four young
friends had huddled together for comfort and were also crying softly
watching and waiting to see if the woman they all revered and loved and the
friend they loved like a brother were going to be ok.  Lorenzo moved over
to them, offering whatever comfort and reassurance he could.  As I knelt
there, gently rubbing Ronni's back, I was putting two and two together.
From what the man had said and Sanie's response and reaction, this
wretched- looking creature could only be none other than her son who
disappeared almost twenty years ago.  He was still struggling weakly to
break free from Carl's grip and get to his mother, but Carl was holding him
back, talking quietly but forcefully trying to get him to calm down.
Ronald, if I heard Sanie correctly before she passed out, was pleading with
Carl to let him go to his mother, his dirty face streaked by his tears, and
I could tell Carl was having a hard internal struggle as to what the right
thing would be to do.  The man had a good heart, but he considered himself
`on duty', and protecting Ronni – and the rest of us, by default –
was his prime directive.

     Just then, Sanie moaned, and opened her eyes, the first thing to see
being her beloved grandson with tears on his face and moaning her name.

     "Ronni," she said, softly.  Upon hearing his name, he looked at her
face realizing she was awake.

     "Lola!" he cried, and proceeded to kiss her face repeatedly while
saying her name over and over.  She chuckled weakly and said something to
him that must have been something like `Let me breathe'.  Ronni gave up his
loving assault and smiled lovingly at her.  Everyone was watching the
interaction between Ronni and his lola, tears now of relief on their faces.
Ronni handed her the bottle of water, and she took a small sip, then
struggled to sit up.  I moved in and put my hand on her back to support
her, and she finally made it up to a sitting position.  She reached out
with her hand and softly stroked Ronni's cheek.  Then, placing her hand on
my cheek, did the same, a small smile on her lips.  She then looked around
at the rest of the crowd, and with a chuckle, said something that had
everyone else laughing.  Then, her eyes fell on the stranger still being
held by Carl.

     "Ronald," she said, holding out her arms.  Carl released his grip and
Sanie's long-lost son stumbled toward her, fell on his knees and threw his
arms around her.  She immediately wrapped hers around him, and rocked him
gently, much as she must have done when he was an infant, her hand stroking
his back.  Each was murmuring the others name as they hugged, cried and
gently rocked in a healing reunion.  Ronni looked at me with his sweet
smile, tears still running down his cheeks, and he was soon in my arms,
hugging me fiercely.  Ronni and I finally got up and went over to his
parents, who each had a still upset twin in their arms, but things seemed
to be calming down as Marcus and Venus told them that everything was ok and
lola was fine.  Ronni and I put our arms around them all and Sanie and
Ronald finally calmed down enough so that they could talk.  Ronald was
speaking haltingly, but Sanie gently encouraged him to open up, and soon,
he was obviously telling her what was most likely a condensed version of
his time away.  Leaving Ronni with his family, I went to make sure the boys
were ok.  Lorenzo had been talking with them, most likely trying to get
everyone calmed down.  I gently suggested they should go home while we
dealt with this new family crisis, and Lorenzo offered to give them all a
ride.  They were all very understanding, and, before gathering their
things, they all went over to the Martinez' and gave everyone a hug.  All,
without exception, held Ronni the longest, and each kissed him.  Then, they
all went over to Sanie and Ronald.  They stood politely a short distance
away until Sanie noticed them and called them over.  She spoke briefly to
them, and I could hear some gentle laughter, so I guess they were feeling
better about what happened.  One by one, they took Sanie's hand and
performed the ritual of respect, adding a kiss to the back of her hand.
Jareth said something to Ronald by way of acknowledgement on the others'
behalves, then, with a final wave to the rest of us, went up to the house
to change, collect their things and head home.  Suddenly, just as the boys
had entered the house, we heard Sanie's voice, and it had a bit of panic in
it.

     "Ronald!  Ronald!" she cried.  She was talking forcefully to him, but
the only response from him was a violent trembling, his eyes rolled back in
his head.  Carl came running over and talked to him, shaking him until he
got a mumbled response.  Sanie gasped, and pulled her son closer to her.

     "Shit!" Carl said, running his hand through his hair.  "He's having
withdrawal seizures.  He's a heroin addict.  From what he said, the doses
he's been taking are big enough that he could actually die from the effects
of the withdrawal if something isn't done quickly.  We have to get him to
the hospital now!  He's already in really bad shape.  We have no time for
an ambulance.  We'll have to take him in my car.  Can you come with Raymar
and me?  It will probably take the two of you to hold him down if the
seizures get worse."

     "Let me grab some clothes and my wallet," I said, already running
toward the house.

     "I'm going with you," said Ronni, running up beside me.  Stopping, I
pulled him to me and stroked his back.

     "I'm sorry, Sweetheart, but this is one time I'm going to have to say
`no'.  These seizures can get very violent, and there won't be that much
room in the car.  You could get hurt too easily, and I don't want that to
happen.  Besides, you need to stay here with your lola.  She and your
family need you right now.  I promise to get back just as quick as I can."

     "Ok,' he said, resignedly.  "You're right.  I was just being selfish
and wanted to be with you.  But my lola and family need me.  I'll be ok
here."  With a final hug and quick kiss on the lips, he turned and went
back to his family and I went into the house.  I noticed that Carl and
Raymar were already on the way with Ronald supported between them, pretty
much dragging him along.  He looked like hell!!  I just hope we can get him
there in time.

     I ran into the house, startling the four boys who were just getting
ready to leave.  When they saw me run in, the asked what was wrong, and I
gave them an extremely shortened version as I headed to the bedroom to
change.  The boys stood out of the way as Ronni's long-lost uncle was all
but carried past and headed back to the beach, probably to see if there was
anything they could do before going home.  I was dressed in record time,
grabbed my wallet, checking to see how much cash was in it.  Seeing it was
low, I went to my stash, not even to bother counting it and, stuffing it in
my pocket, ran out the door and to the street.  When I got there, Carl and
Raymar were just getting Ronald into the car, and once I joined them, we
tore off to the hospital with Ronald moaning and writhing in the back seat
with Raymar.  As we sped along, Carl told me that Raymar was a medic when
he did his stint in the army, so at least Ronald was in the best hands
available at the moment.  We had just turned into the drive leading to the
emergency entrance when Ronald was hit with the most violent seizure yet.
I had to lean over the back of the front seat where I was sitting to help
Raymar hold him down as we came to a screeching halt at the entrance.  Carl
ran inside to get help while Raymar and I desperately did our best to
minister to a very sick man.  He had pissed his pants, and, from the smell,
had shit himself too.  Carl soon emerged, with two male nurses and a
gurney.  There was simply no way in hell they'd ever get him inside trying
to get him to walk.  It looked as if he had passed out from that last
seizure, and his body was still trembling.  With everybody's help, we got
him situated on the gurney, and the nurses strapped him down tightly in
case there was another seizure.  They rushed him inside, with the three of
us tightly behind.

     For a Sunday afternoon, it wasn't too busy, as far as emergency rooms
go.  Ronald was whisked into a cubicle, and the curtain was quickly whipped
around, effectively cutting us off.  As we stood there trying to decide
what to do next, a youngish looking doctor came hurrying up.

     "Are you with that patient they just brought in?" he asked.

     "Yes," I answered for the group.  "He's having violent withdrawal
seizures from a heavy heroin habit."

     "The nurse thought that's what the guy said who came in to get help,"
he replied.

      "That would be me," Carl said.

     "Ah," said the doctor.  "That's probably why they asked me to take the
case.  My shift had just ended and I was almost ready to go home.  They
asked me, because I have the most knowledge about these types of cases.  By
the way, I'm Dr. Marcos, and no – no relation," he added, with a
chuckle.

     "Thank you for staying, Dr. Marcos," I replied.  "My name is Phil
James, and this is Carl Tulbeo and Raymar Sarmiento.  It's good to know
there's someone who knows how to deal with something like this."  At that
moment, there was a strangled cry from behind the curtain and a lot of
thrashing around.  "Sounds like he's having another seizure."

     "Yes, yes," replied the doctor, clearly wanting to get to work.  "Are
any of you a relative of the patient?"

     "I guess the closest would be me," I said.  "I'm an adoptive member of
the family, and he'd be my uncle-in-law, I guess."

     "Close enough," said the doc, with a harried smile.  "You may come in,
if you wish.  The rest of you can wait in the waiting room just down the
hall there."  He pointed in the direction.  "Now, I'd better get to work."
With that, he disappeared behind the curtain.

     "If you guys want to wait, I'll go see what's going on and if there's
anything that we need to do," I said to them.  "If you don't want to wait,
that's ok.  This is definitely not what you expected when you came over
today."

     "No problem, BOSS," Carl said, with emphasis and a wink.  "All in a
day's work.  We'll meet you in the waiting room."  With that, he and Raymar
headed off, and, preparing myself for the worst and hoping for the best,
ducked behind the curtain.  What I saw, shocked and sickened me.

     Before me was a shell of a man.  They had either cut off or removed
his clothes, and he was lying there, naked, securely strapped to the bed,
his filthy rail-thin body evidence of the ravages of heavy drug use and
abuse.  And because it was just like not looking at a train wreck, I
glanced at his genitals.  His entire groin was covered with sores, even his
average-sized penis.  I had a quick thought that Ronni, at his age, was
just as well-endowed.  But this guy had obviously sold his body to get
either the drugs or the money for them to support his habit, and his
ravaged and disease-riddled body bore evidence of that fact.  The nurses
were gently washing the filth from his body, and you could now see the
myriad needle tracks that covered his arms, from wrist to shoulder, his
thighs and even his abdomen.  This dude was one heavy user, and if he
managed to pull through the rigors of withdrawal he was facing, it would be
a miracle!  And then I thought of Sanie.  That sweet, gentle, loving woman!
To have her wayward son show up out of the blue only to lose him again,
this time for good.  It just isn't right!  I sent up a silent prayer to
what I know is a benevolent God.  He did, after all, bring me here to these
wonderful people, and, most importantly, to Ronni, my source of all things
good.  As the nurses finished washing him, they covered him with a sheet.
Suddenly, his eyes opened and blazed intently at me.

     "Help me, please!  Help me! I don't want to die!"  he said slowly, but
forcefully, and reached out his hand for mine.  He either remembered me
from before or simply recognized me as someone who could help him.  Without
hesitating, I took his frail hand in mine, and he squeezed with a force
belied by his condition.  "Please help me!"  At that moment, another tremor
shook through his body, and I stepped back to let the nurses and doctor
take over.  With a final, sad look at Ronald, I started for the waiting
room to wait and see what needed to be done next.  I figured I'd just be in
the way if I stayed, and frankly, it was too painful for me to watch him go
through those seizures.  I hadn't gotten far when Sanie came barreling
toward me.  She grabbed my arm, and her eyes bored into mine.

     "Where is Ronald?" she asked, haltingly.  "Where is my son?"  Putting
my arm around her shoulder, I gently guided her back to the curtained
cubicle.  Dr. Marcos was just coming out and noticed us.

     "Dr. Marcos," I said, "this is Sanie Nunez, Ronald's mother.  May she
be with her son?"

     "Yes, of course," he said, pulling aside the curtain for Sanie.  She
started to go in, them came back and put her arms around me.

     "Such a good man," she said, before standing on tiptoe and kissing my
cheek.  "Thank you for loving Ronni.  Thank for loving my family."  With
that, she went in to be with her son.  Dr. Marcos watched Sanie's departure
then turned to me.

     "Mr. James," he said.  "I'm glad you came back.  I was just about to
go look for you.  Everything is under control for now.  Let's go into the
doctor's lounge so we can talk."  I wasn't liking the sounds of this at
all, but I followed him, and we were soon seated.  "Mr. James, I'm afraid
we have a problem.  As you know, methadone is used to help addicts like
Mr. Nunez with the symptoms of withdrawal.  We are in short supply at the
moment, definitely not enough to help Mr. Nunez through the full withdrawal
process.  We can get more, but the cost is prohibitive, and that, along
with the level of care he will require is going to cost a great deal of
money.  And before you say anything, please remember that this is not the
US.  We are pretty much bound by our restrictions, and although we can bend
the rules a little, in Mr. Nunez case, the costs are going to be very
high."  I was getting a bit pissed, but, at the same time, I understood his
position.

     "So, to cut to the chase," I said, a bit tersely, "it's a question of
money."  The good doctor had the decency to blush.

     "Yes," he said.  "I'm afraid that is it exactly."  Reaching for my
wallet, I withdrew my platinum bank card and slapped it on the table.

     "That should cover any expenses that are incurred," I said.  "The
first thing you're to do is get on the phone immediately and order whatever
amount of methadone you feel you'll need for his treatment.  I want it here
just as quickly as you can.  If I have to hire a private plane to fly it
in, do it!  I don't want there to be any interruptions in his schedule of
doses.  I also want him to have a private room with any and all amenities.
He's going to be here for quite a while, and I want him to be as
comfortable as possible.  Besides, having a private room right from the
beginning will actually make all of your jobs easier, plus the fact that
I'm sure he'll be quite vocal as he goes through withdrawal.  Having him in
a ward with others would only disturb the other patients and most likely
cause more work for what, I assume, is already an over-worked staff.  Are
there any questions?"  Marcos was gobsmacked!  I'm sure he'd never been
talked to like this by a patient's family member.  Add to that the fact I'd
pretty much given him a blank check, and he was speechless.  It took him a
minute to recover, and I just sat there, keeping him in my stare.  He was
actually squirming!  Finally, after a few long minutes, he cleared his
throat and finally looked me in the eye, which he had previously been
avoiding.

     "Mr. James," he said, "first of all, please excuse me for the crass
way in which I started this discussion.  It was very insensitive of me, and
I apologize.  My mind was wrapped up in the complexities I see in
Mr. Nunez' case, and I should have worded things better.  Secondly, you
appear to be a man who will go to any lengths and expense when it comes to
family, I find that an admirable trait.  I truly do want to do the very
best we can for Mr. Nunez and frankly was concerned about the cost.  In a
country like ours, money is always an issue.  You've laid my concerns on
that to rest by your most generous offer.  I'll get started right away
getting the supply of methadone.  Your offer to pay to get it here won't be
necessary.  There is more than enough on hand to last until the shipment
arrives, which will be tomorrow.  We'll get the private room ready with all
that you have asked.  But I need to ask.  Who will be staying with him
while he's here?  The practice here is that a family member takes care of
the more mundane parts of patient care.  At this time, I will assume it
will be his mother.  Am I correct?"

     "I'm sure that's what she'll plan to do," I said, relived to see a
light at the end of the tunnel.

     "If she does," he said, "we will set up another bed for her in the
room.  She most likely knows how things work around here with caring for a
family member, but if she has any questions, I'll be sure to answer them
personally."

     "Thank you, doctor," I said.  "And I apologize if I came off
heavy-handed.  It's just that my family means everything to me, and I tend
to be very protective of them."

     "I understand," said Marcos.  "Your response was to be expected."  He
paused in thought for a moment, as he looked as though he was thinking of
what to say next.  Finally, with a deep sigh, he sat up straighter in his
chair.  "Mr. James, I feel that I must tell you that all the money in the
world may not be enough to save Mr. Nunez."  My stomach clenched as I
thought of Sanie.  "He is a very sick man even beyond his drug problem.
His body is riddled with disease.  He has syphilis, gonorrhea, chlamydia,
and those are only the most apparent.  It's clear that he was selling
himself for sex to pay for his habit and has managed to pick up just about
every STD known.  We managed to finally get a vein to draw enough blood for
further testing, including HIV, and will have those results in a few hours.
Right now, it's important to get those infections out of his system if the
methadone treatment is to be successful.  Frankly, Mr.  James, his chances
of survival I would put at less than 50%.  I'm sorry.  But we will do all
we can to raise those odds, and every day he survives the rigors of the
seizures while recovering from the STD's will raise those odds."  Slumping
back in my chair, I took a deep breath.

     "Thank you for your honesty, Dr. Marcos," I said.  "It sounds like it
will be an uphill battle at best, but please do all you can.  If you need
to bring in outside help, please don't hesitate.  You don't even need to
call me.  Just do it, even if it means bringing someone in from overseas.
We're going to fight with everything we have for his recovery."

     "I promise you, we'll do just that," he replied.  "Now, if you'll
excuse me for a minute, I'll go scan your card into the system.  That will
keep the finance department happy, and I'll be able to get started on
everything right away."  With that, he took my bank card and left the room.

     While Marcos was away, my thoughts naturally turned to the family,
especially Sanie.  Her long-lost son had suddenly dropped back into her
life with the distinct possibility of leaving it again, this time
permanently.  I couldn't help but think that Ronald knew how sick he was
and had come home to die.  I shuddered at this thought, but it made me even
more determined to change his odds for the better.  And it was also clear
that now that he was home, Ronald also wanted to fight to live.  His pleas
to me at his bedside were a clear indication of his will to live.  This
perked me up a bit as I realized that a patient's frame of mind can have a
great impact on their recovery.  That still didn't change the odds, but it
at least gave hope.  Just then, Marcos returned and handed me my card.

     "Thank you, Mr.  James," he said.  "This has just made my job a lot
easier and has opened up a wider range of possibilities that will
definitely be in Mr. Nunez' favor.  While I was waiting for finance to take
your information, I was able to make arrangements for the private room.
Everything will be ready to move Mr. Nunez in about an hour, which will
give us enough time to finish up in ER."

     "Thank you, doctor," I said.  "I'm beginning to get a better feeling
about all this.  There's at least hope now."  Doctor Marcos nodded his
head.  "Well, I'd better get going and stop in to check on Ronald and his
mother before I leave.  My friends have been sitting in the waiting room
long enough."

     "Thank you, Mr. James," he said, as we stood.  "I wish others had the
strong family values and commitment that you carry.  Mrs. Nunez was right.
You are a good man."  With that, we shook hands and went back to the
cubicle where Ronald appeared to be sleeping, and Sanie was holding his
hand, and singing softly to him.  She looked up when she heard the curtain
pulled back and smiled at me.  I went over and put my arm around her and
kissed her cheek.

     "Everything ok?" I asked.  She nodded and smiled at her son.

     "He sleeps now," she said.

     "I'm going to go home now," I said.  "Are you going to stay?"

     "Yes," she said, never taking her eyes off her son.  "I stay with
Ronald."

     "I'll see you later," I replied, kissing her cheek again.  She reach
out and pulled me down and kissed my forehead and both cheeks.

     "Go with God," she said, in benediction.  With a final reassuring look
at Sanie and a last worried but hopeful glance at Ronald, I left, stopping
to tell Marcos that Sanie would be staying.  He said that he'd have another
bed put in the room for her, and with a final handshake, I finally headed
out to rescue the other two from boredom.  I found Carl and Raymar talking
in the waiting room, and after giving them a brief rundown on everything,
we headed out to the car and home.


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