About My Dad

THOUGHTS RANDOMLY MEDICAL
Aim: To Heal
By Jose M. Pujalte, M.D.

Self Deliverance From Kidney Failure

There were two questions my cousin, Ed, asked the doctor. “Doctor,” he queried, “What’s wrong with me? I know you have examined me very thoroughly and had some important tests done. Any may I also know what my treatment is?”

The urologist, a close friend from medical school to whom I referred Ed, was very kind but direct. “Ed,” the doctor answered . “Don’t be alarmed. You’re very sick. From all indications you have a very serious kidney ailment: what we call end stage renal disease. Dialysis won’t do you any good. You may need a kidney transplant.”

Even as a doctor, used to doing, witnessing or reading about intricate and formidable operations, I was deeply disturbed, swept by a sudden sadness and pity for my cousin when I heard this. Thinking back in surgical history, it was not too long ago, in 1954, when Dr. Joseph Murray and Dr. David Hume of Boston, Massachusetts, did the first successful living-related kidney transplant from identical twins. The recipient had normal kidney function for eight years. The in 1962, the same surgical duo performed the first successful cadaveric kidney transplant, with the recipient enjoying normal kidney function for 21 months. Ed began to manifest symptoms of kidney failure in 1967, had on and off dialysis for another two years until the kidney specialist declared that he had already reached the end stage of the disease. A few distinguished surgeons in Manila began to duplicate the American successes, but because of the failure of effectively preventing donor rejection, their trial runs ended disappointment. By and large, it may be said that kidney transplantation in our country was still experimental and its “infancy stage”. During that time. Now it has come of age. An Esquivel, an Antonio, and an Ona began to score some successes in kidney transplantation. They started the slow trek to the hallowed niche of the surgical greats because of their pioneering spirit and their charity.

Ed, the patient, was a first cousin and one of my best childhood friends. We grew up together in Quezon, and had been playmates since boyhood days. But during our teen years we had to go separate ways. He had to finish high school in Lucena, and I, in Manila. And so we lost contact. Later, when in college I learned that Ed got married to Alice, his childhood sweetheart, a grade-school teacher. And in a span pf ten years, the couple had a brood of four, two boys and two girls.

A few weeks after our last visit to Ed’s doctor, we were back to his clinic for some follow-ups and more questions, especially about the expenses for the operation. True enough, the doctor said it would entail a very big sum, and yet he was quick to add that complete cure was uncertain. As Ed listened, I noticed that he was unusually calm and collected. This perception of calm before the storm was poetically described in the book entitled The Prince. The author, Antoine de Saint Exupery, said “It is with the heart that one sees rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

Touching a bit on his family resources, Ed was not a rich person, although in our town he might have been considered well-to-do. He inherited from his parents a big house and lot, and a number of coconut plantations and rice lands, from which he derived income.

Contemplating on the whole situation, Ed felt that maybe he could afford the operation. But again doubts engulfed him. He could sell his possessions to meet the high cost of the surgery, but he would not be fully useful again, especially to his own family. What stood in the way of his impending operation was his overflowing love for his wife and four children. In his mind he rejected the possibility that his family would lead a life of hardship and deprivation, enduring the bitter taste of future penury.

Ed was already weakening in resolve, but summoning his last remaining inner strength, he tried to psych himself up to gain once again full control of his senses. His family should not suffer the painful consequences of his wrong decisions. Therefore he decided to die.

Fourteen months later, through a period of costly dialysis, agonizing bouts of depression, physical and mental anguish, I heard, with sadness, thjat Ed, at last made his quiet and final exit. There was bereavement and grief, but there was also the strong guarantee of economic well-being for the family.

This is a true story, a story of self-denial, self sacrifice, and self deliverance.

I am sure that when Ed left to meet the good Lord, he had a happy smile on his face.

……that “life levels all men; death reveals eminent.”

Note: My father died when I was 8 years old and I never knew this story till recently when my uncle decided to publish his secret about my Dad.