“HORACIO” (PARKINSON'S DISEASE)
After Dr. Dan did his gratitude speech
thanking the Patients etc (followed by loud applause), it was meal-time. After
eating a bit, I was told that a Patient arrived (very late) to see Dr. Dan. I
was curious to see the Patient and find out why he came so late.
Sitting on the bench, where the ceremony
was held less than an hour ago, was a frail old man called “Horacio”,
hunched forward, with a resting tremor in both of his hands. His son
accompanied him.
Spot Diagnosis: Parkinson's Disease.
I asked Horacio's son what has happened,
and he said that his Father has been walking weak and shaking like this for
nearly a year now. “Why are his arms and legs weak?” he asked.
I told him that I suspected it was a
Neurological Condition called Parkinson's Disease, that affects your movement,
but he was confused, saying “The sickness is with his limbs and not his brain.”
I explained that some Brain Conditions can impair movement, and asked if I
could examine Horacio.
Horacio's arms were having a tremor. I
shook his hand and moved his arms about. They were stiff with Cogwheel
Rigidity, which further supported my thoughts. He also had the same Flat Affect
as me, and I asked his son whether he smiles these days, in which he said no.
Dr. Dan came to meet him and also gave the
same spot diagnosis, and arranged for him to have a script for Levodopa /
Carbidopa. Unfortunately the Pharmacy ran out of this, and I became desperate.
“What about Pramipexole or Ropinirole?” I asked the Pharmacist. Nope, they
didn't have those either.
I felt sorry for Horacio, and wished that
if I were in his position in the future, that somebody would try to get the
medication for me. Being at a higher hypothetical risk of Parkinson's Disease
(or Fronto-Temporal Lobe Dementia) later on in life, this patient triggered a
“soft part” in my heart. I wanted him to start the medication and experience
its benefits.
I wanted to demonstrate the degree of
concern that I'd wish for someone to have towards me if I had it. I didn't want
to perpetuate or feel abandoned. So I offered Dr. Dan to go to a Pharmacy and
buy the medication using my own money if it was available. I told the Patient
and his son to wait for 30 minutes whilst I ran out with my bag huffing and
puffing.
A few hundred metres down the road from the
Clinic, a man in a motorcycle came up to me, and asked if I wanted a lift. I
asked him who he was, in which he claimed he was Horacio's son's friend “Vincent”,
who was observing me the entire time.
Having only ridden a motorcycle once before
as a child, I was quite reticent to accept his offer, but due to my perceived
“urgency” of the issue at the time (being in “Adrenaline Mode”), agreed to do
so. The helmet barely fit my head, and I couldn't fasten the helmet belt under
my chin, but I thought “Whatever” and let it be.
I made sure my backpack was fully zipped
up, but my other handbag couldn't be closed, so I quickly tucked the items to
the bottom lest it fall out during the ride. As I sat on the motorcycle,
Vincent told me to grab onto his shoulders tightly.
I grabbed onto him for “dear life”, and as
the motorcycle started going ahead, I gripped him even harder. The breeze/wind
was sweeping past my arms, and my heart was beating fast. I was freaking out
inside due to the state of Dili's traffic and the fact that I wasn't wearing
any other protective gear, but strangely was able to look flat on the outside,
and to some extent even exhilarated. He could tell that I had very little
experience riding motorcycles, in which I soon admitted to him. I was
simultaneously horrified yet excited at this “motorcycle adventure”.
He dropped me off at each of the 4 nearby
pharmacies. As I entered each pharmacy, I quickly rattled out my spiel in Tetum
to the staff about needing Levodopa/Carbidopa for Horacio, hoping that I'd “hit
the jackpot”. I started feeling doubtful inside when the pharmacy assistants
had puzzled looks on their faces, claiming to have never heard of these
medications before, or even Parkinson's Disease. I initially thought they were
stupid, but gave them the benefit of the doubt and mentioned that it was a
neurological condition that makes the patient have difficulty walking and
moving their arms etc, and one of them thought I was thinking of Stroke. When I
mentioned “neurological condition”, or more specificially “brain disease”
(moras kakutak), one of them thought I was referring to a Psychiatric Condition
instead. Another assistant offered to sell me Methyldopa because it had the
same suffix (-dopa), but I rejected that, explaining that it was a completely
different drug for a completely different condition (Hypertension).
Each rejection from a pharmacy made me more
disappointed, and as it came close to 7 PM, I knew it was time to give up. The
Adrenaline and hopeful suspense from the motorcycle rides between the
pharmacies ended, and I felt very disillusioned, having turned out empty handed
from these attempts. I wanted Horacio to have the medication so badly, so I
would hate to tell him in his face that the pharmacies didn't offer it.
As I returned to the Clinic, it surprised
me that Horacio and his son weren't there anymore, although to be honest I was
a bit relieved coz I was spared having to break the bad news to them. Vincent
said that he'd inform them instead that I couldn't find the medication. I
thanked him very much for the rides.
I told Dr. Dan about my failure, and
started walking home in the dark feeling quite upset and frustrated about this
fruitless venture. I started pondering why the Pharmacy staff were seemingly
ignorant, but it became clearer to me. Pharmacies, like with nearly all other
private healthcare facilities, function as businesses. They will sell the
medications that are profitable and are in higher demand. Because East Timor's
population is very young with the mean life expectancy at ~65 years, the
prevalence of Neurodegenerative Conditions such as Parkinson's and Alzheimer's
Disease etc would be much lower than in Australia. Low demand for a
low-prevalence condition would mean that the Pharmacies are much less likely to
stock it. Out of principle, this is fair from a financial point of view
(“Capitalism”, “Supply and Demand”), but I felt really sorry for Horacio and
all other East Timorese patients with low-prevalence conditions who wouldn't be
catered for when the time called for it. The Public Healthcare System may
provide medications for these people, but unfortunately are also unreliable and
have frequent shortages due to incredibly meagre budgets.
After this realization, I stopped feeling
guilty because I knew I tried my best at the time and wouldn't be able to
rectify the situation any other way in that short time period.
My sadness toned down as I internally
gloated on this intense experience. In Australia, had a patient been diagnosed
with Parkinson's Disease, they'd simply receive a script and obtain it from any
bread-and-butter pharmacy, try the medication and see a GP/Specialist for
follow-up, end-of-story.
But the healthcare situation in East Timor
allowed me to take a much more “colourful” route.
My desire to obtain the medication
temporarily overrided my fear of riding motorcycles, especially in a city with
very dangerous traffic like Dili. I was told to avoid riding Microlets because
they were dangerous, yet I managed to ride a motorcycle here, and from a
stranger!!!
I couldn't believe that the encounter with
Horacio, the motorcycle rides to the pharmacies, and the return trip, all
occurred in ~ 30 minutes. I checked my handbag and nothing fell out thankfully.
Most importantly, I felt so grateful and
lucky that I was physically unscathed.
Omg what an adventurous end to the week...
1 comment:
Very nice gesture. May I ask how could you remember all the antiparkinson drugs? I' ll be happy of I could name one.
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