Siren call
Every hour or two, I could hear the ambulance sirens wailing along the highways surrounding my residence. I live 28 floors up, and even at that height the soundwaves of emergency reach me.
It reminds me of last year, when the Philippines faced a surge in Covid-19 cases due to the Delta variant. The situation is quite different now: The Omicron variant spreads faster but more people have been vaccinated. Yet, it’s the same feeling of dystopian dread ringing in my ears.
A page from my journal, written while I was waiting in line for my RT-PCR test:
16 March 2021
4 p.m.-ish
St. Luke’s Quezon City“May tatlo nang bakante, sino ipapasok natin?”
A female medical frontliner, clad in disposable blues from head to toe, asks her colleague. In their uniform personal protective equipment (PPEs), it’s hard to tell which one’s a doctor or a nurse, and who are the medical interns and residents.
But maybe it doesn’t matter.
(I write this as I wait for my name to be called, signaling my turn for the swab test. Either I hadn’t expected the long queuing or I was just out of my mind in the morning when I left my unit that I didn’t bring my powerbank, a book, or my tablet which has e-books. At least I have a pen and paper.)
A nurse, or an intern, I can’t be sure, explains to each of us that the entire process may take eight hours.
And as if taking orders from the cashier line, they ask, “Willing to wait?”
It’s been five hours of waiting for me at the emergency unit at St. Luke’s Medical Center and not once have I seen these health care workers grab a bite or sip some water.
Even when older people approached them to ask about a doctor’s prescription from a different hospital that had nothing to do with Covid-19 or its symptoms, the attending personnel respectfully pointed them to the right building.
“Sa Covid po dito, mae-expose kayo.”
When a patient couldn’t hear well and had to repeat every question at least five times, I never saw eyes rolling or heard a higher-pitched, irate tone.
If our country survives this pandemic, the accolades should find their worthy recipients.
From the distance, an ambulance siren blares.
“Iyan na naman,” a man jested.
A paunchy man arrives wearing pink and grey long sleeves from a food delivery service.
He approached the ER and gives the staff a box of donuts.
“Sa amin po ito?”
A nod.
The group cheers. That may just be enough fuel for the long night ahead. •