October 2008

Philippine Journal: Day 12

Bilandal Family

Time to wrap up this amazing trip. On Sunday, October 19, we were still in Dumaguete, a small town on the island of Negros. Today was our day to visit patients in their home, always the highlight of my trips. The weather was brilliantly sunny, blue skies and 100% humidity. The ride was brief, as the patients we visited were close by. First was the home of Raynold Bilandal, two years old, factor VIII deficient. A chubby, well cared for child, he lives in poverty materially, but in love richly. Their house sits back a bit from a main road; it’s open and airy, with no screens to filter out mosquitoes. They own little: simple beds, a table, a cassette player for the treasured music Filipinos love, a pet parakeet. This is a family with many members who have hemophilia: brothers, uncles, and many children who have already died. We enjoyed our visit very much, and took photos for Raynold’s sponsor, Joe Cardoza, son of Save One Life’s executive director.

Our next home was in Tanjay City, a small village, to see three patients who are enrolled in Save One Life: Carymar, Reymark and Jhon. We waked through the village, garnering stares from the villagers, and soon a following behind us as the children whispered about the foreigners in their midst. We saw a man getting a shave in the open air by his neighbor, chickens and roosters scuttling about, washing being hung to dry and water being pumped from a well. The ground was thick with mud so we stayed close to the stones that formed a walkway; I noticed deeply embedded coral in the ground, wondering if this was once an ocean floor? First we came to Jhon’s house, with its bamboo walls, thatched roof, and mud floor entrance. Jhon is doing fairly well, and is being raised by his grandmother, a spry elder woman (seen being interviewed in the photo by Andrea Trinidad-Echavez). As we spoke with Jhon, the crowd swelled; some were family members, and others were neighbors. Jhon attends school, and uses Save One Life funds to get medical treatment.

Next door practically is his cousin Carymar. Several family members live in his house. They have the basics: beds, kitchen, a TV. But they are very poor. This was a special day: Carymar’s 19th birthday! We sang happy birthday to him as we interviewed his family about how they are doing with the Save One Life program. They are all deeply appreciative of the help.

After the visits, we decided to go to the local cemetery, to seek out the graves of Jeffrey’s four brothers. If you recall, Jeffrey is a 21-year-old from Manila we met, who is in college studying psychology. He wants to be a therapist for the young men with hemophilia in the Philippines. His ambition derives from the pain he experienced losing four of his brothers to hemophilia. He himself rarely is able to afford to travel all the way to Dumaguete to see the graves. We promised him we’d find them and then email the photos.

Easier said than done. The graves are above ground mostly, a la New Orleans, and stacked, creating a maze of graves and tombs that are not registered in any fashion. We had to walk for over an hour in about 95-degree heat to find them. The cemetery was not maintained and so vines and plants covered the tombstones and markers. We walked along, reading the names: Torres, Ramirez, Rodriquez. No luck. Three young boys followed us, and soon we paid them to start clearing away the undergrowth to read the graves and find the ones we wanted. Finally, we located them. We called Jeffrey who was really touched at our persistence. We paused a moment in prayer, to acknowledge the suffering these graves represent: hemophilia boys and men who will never complete their lives, who died only from lack of affordable treatment. For while there is rarely factor to purchase, even FFP and cryo is too expensive for most Filipinos to afford. Early death is a constant here.

As we left, we had one humorous moment when we spied three goats, tied up in the broiling sun to three graves, left for the day by the owners to nibble away the grass. Third World lawnmowers.

On Monday, October 20, we headed out by Ocean Jet (2.5 hours), and then by car (3.5 hours) to Ozamiz City, on the large island of Mindanao. We were deep into Philippine countryside now, and I was constantly started at. Not many westerners make it down here, I gather. The scenery is gorgeous: rice fields carpeting the landscape, hemmed in by towering mountains. The sky is most dramatic here: from the Ocean Jet, the clouds roiled up like white cotton dolphins leaping out of the liquid blue. Water buffaloes plod in rich mud, their hoofs sucking with each step as they plough.

See photos of the entire trip here.

On Tuesday I awoke with a startling surprise: 27 bug bites on my face. My eyes were half closed in reaction, my skin covered in welts. Just lovely. Apparently I had accidentally left the screen door open all night in the bathroom, and the mosquitoes had a midnight buffet. I was a bit worried as malaria and dengue fever are widespread here, but so far so good.

Despite my appearance, Tuesday was the climax of the trip for me, because I visited my child, whom I sponsor. Kent Tan is a darling boy, living in a rural community, some two and a half hours from Ozamiz City. His parents were so grateful for our efforts to visit. He lives in a small but clean home with his parents, and brother Karl, sponsored by my friend Kyle Callahan (who also has hemophilia). Karl as just getting over a leg bleed, with factor we had donated. Both boys look in great shape! His mother, Hydeeh, stays home with both boys. The father Juderick, only earns $100 a month, not enough to pay for medical treatment for two boys with hemophilia. The use their Save One Life money as a savings account, in case of medical emergency. Kyle and I give them $40 a month combined, which is an additional 40% of their monthly income. You can see how well Save One Life helps! The parents are very smart about how to use their finds. When I aksed them what else I could do for them, they very humbly declined to ask for anything more, counting their blessings.

I have so much more to write about this amazing trip, but the hour is late and I have severe jet lag. And a busy week coming up! If you’d like to read in depth about the trip, please go to the Save One Life website, where we will post our newsletter OneVoice, in a few weeks. The November issue will feature the trip, and will have more photos. Also, I will post photos from the trip as soon as I complete labeling them, in about a week.

Our trip took us to six cities in 12 days, by car, speedboat, ferry and airplane. I’ve logged in hours by each, seeing the tropical countryside, quaint villages, busy hospitals, magnificent churches, and homes of the poor. Father Don has been an excellent host and traveling partner, displaying deep compassion but logical analysis and a desire to improve the lives of those with hemophilia, a mission that goes above and beyond whatever job description he has as a Columban priest. I was privileged to visit the home he maintains in Ozamiz City, where he houses 26 teens from impoverished backgrounds, who are now attending high school or college, and who will all have a promising future. Hemophilia is “just” a moonlighting mission for the indefatigable Father Don! God bless him for that: these patients need every angel they can.

Rice paddies

This has been one of the most amazing trips I have ever taken, from the sheer beauty of the Philippines, to the devastating poverty and suffering that stalks each hemophilia patient like a predator, waiting to pick off unlucky victims. I don’t know why, but I have never seen such wide scale effects of untreated hemophilia: joint crippling, pseudotumors, intracranial bleeds, loss of life and amputations. The Philippines is in dire need of help. One way to help is to support individual patients so they can have the funding needed to get to the hospital, or to buy cryo of FFP, or even factor. Please consider supporting a person with hemophilia from the Philippines. We will enroll all the new patients we have met. Just $20 a month can change their lives! I know they have forever changed mine.

Salamat (thanks) to Father Don Kill, the Columban MIssions for housing me in the Philippines, to HAPLOS, to the dedicated physicians we met, and to our skilled and patient driver Honorato!

Philippine Journal: Day 9

Though it’s actually Wednesday here now, I am still trying to catch up with my diary. We’ve been on the go nonstop: traveling by boat, car and plane, traversing hundreds of miles, to seek out hemophilia patients in the Philippines.

So far, I arrived in Manila, stayed three days, then went a bit south to Cebu for two days (see previous posts). On Saturday, October 18, we (Andrea Trinidad-Echavez, person with VWD and media expert), Father Don Kill of the Columban Missions here, and I headed out early for a two and a half hour ride to the ferry. We rocketed down coastal roads, catching glimpses of the sea and beaches. Our fearless driver Honorato beeped incessantly to warn people of our deadline to catch the ferry.

The scenery is beautiful: the Philippines, created from volcanic activity, is lush and fertile. Palm trees explode upward into a display of huge leaves and coconuts with a piercing blue sky as backdrop. The weather is sultry and heavy, and the sun scorching. I love it!

The ferry took us and the van across for a 30 minute ride to the island of Negros. The fishing town we disembarked on was alive with activity. We went straight away for a another 30 minute ride to Dumaguete, where we would meet staff from Little Children of the Philippines (LCP), the organization that would become our new partner for Save One Life, Inc.

Everything Father Don has told me these past two years about LCP is true. They are a nonprofit specializing in educating children in all aspects: scholastic, hygiene, livelihood and faith. Many of the staff are themselves graduates, and they are remarkably organized and efficient, yet compassionate.

When we arrived, we walked to a small pavilion, where the families and children with hemophilia waited. Now, it’s one thing to see a child’s face and profile on paper. But to meet them in person? Priceless beyond words. To me they are celebrities, children I have been dying to meet for a long time. Here before me were Allan, Ryan, Joseph, his brother Joshua, Carymar and Reymark. They greeted me with the traditional hello: each child took my hand and touched his forehead to it.

We all were seated so LCP staff could introduce us; Father Don also spoke to the children, all of whom he personally identified in his quest to help those with hemophilia in the Philippines. The children honored us by singing (karaoke is huge here!) and Father Don also knocked off another Elvis song. The parents also got up and together sang a gorgeous song called “Give Thanks,” with spiritual themes. Three mothers than each took the mic, and in tears, thanked Save One Life and Project SHARE for helping their children. Their cries were gut wrenching, and gave only an inkling into the level of the pain they see in their child.

In the midst of this, one boy, Reymar, was not well. He kept his head down by his feet, his shoulder dropped. He was having a severe bleed in his right shoulder. We hurried him to the clinic at LCP, but he needed factor. We had none. So here was a Third World crisis right in front of us: what do you do? He has a major bleed, needs factor, and must settle for cryo or FFP. There is no cryo. FFP costs $30 a bag. He might need 10 bags. His mother sat in despair sobbing while her 15-year-old boy writhed and moaned. It’s not just a matter of going to the hospital to get treatment. She doesn’t have $300. We made a decision then and there to pay for whatever treatment he would get. While they prepared to move him, Andrea knelt down with the family, held their hands and with powerful calm, said a prayer with them.

When they had left, we all felt a bit disconcerted. This was the future of these kids staring them in the face. When they get hurt, what will happen to them? They can see how they cause their mothers so much pain, too. We turned to happier things, like lunch, and then the kids all made incredible thank you cards for their sponsors. I oberserved that Filipinos, in addition to being musically oriented, are extremely creative and artistic. True, agreed the Filipinos present, and they loved to hear that.

We took photos of all the Save One Life boys, and some taped thank you speeches to their individual sponsors: Diane H., Patrick S., Kyle C., Joe C. and John J. of the USA.

Finally we headed out, and LCP agreed to take on all the sponsorship responsibilities in the Dumaguete area as our new partner. Instead of relying on Father Don all the time, we will now use LCP. Father Don, mind you, is busy enough running a home for 26 teens. Like many people, once he met a child with hemophilia five year ago, he could not say no, and has since helped us identify patients and get them treatment. No doubt he has saved lives and much suffering through his actions.

We returned to the hotel a bit amazed at the day. Sobering. It must have worn us out more than we thought: I for one slept 10 straight hours, the first time I have actually been able to sleep since coming here. And I actually felt guilty when I awoke: how many Filipino mothers that night had no sleep because their children cried in pain from untreated bleeds?

The good news the next morning was that Reymar was treated. We purchased Koate DVI, to the tune of $300 for 1,000 IUs for a poor boy. (The pharmacy in this remote place actually stocks it as there is a middle class family in town that pays for it–more on that next time.) There is so much more to be said about the billions made off factor sales, and how little of it will ever come to the majority of people who need it most, who suffer pure agony. I am this week in the rural areas of the Philippines, where life is already harsh, and where children with hemophilia need help every day. Project SHARE donates directly to these children; Save One Life gives them the money to buy FFP or factor or transportation to the clinic. If you can help me to help them, please let us know.


Philippine Journal: Day 7

Friday, October 17: This was the kind of day you simply live for when traveling to developing countries for hemophilia. Now in Cebu, second largest city in the Philippines, Rose Noyes, Father Don Kill, Andrea Trinidad-Echavez (a patient with VWD and mother to a daughter with VWD) and I went to the Perpetual Succor Hospital to meet with the hematology team. But we heard that there was actually a patient admitted to the ward so we went to check it out. There in the overcrowded pediatric department was a one year old baby, Christian, who was bleeding from his head. The mother was breastfeeding him, trying to quiet him. They both looked uncomfortable: She was standing in the middle of a busy hallway; he was wrapped in a bloodied bandage, with an IV stuck in his foot. We spoke with the nurses who told us Christian had fallen last week. He had received fresh frozen plasma (FFP) but the bleeding continued. Feeing helpless and sad, I recalled I happened to have stuck a vial of factor in my purse to show reporters later at our press conference. I took it out and everyone’s eyes lit up. I might as well have taken out a bar of gold!

The nurses at once administered the factor VIII concentrate to the baby. The mother was a little wary of me, but when she learned I also had a son, and that we would enroll her in Save One Life, her face relaxed into an expression of gratitude.

It hits me hard to think that not only do countries like the Philippines not get factor (only the very wealthy will buy it out of pocket), but patients must purchase FFP or cryo! Indigent patients like Christian’s mom go to the public hospital where they received free medical services, but not medical items. All patients must pay for gauze, needles, syringes, bandages, and blood products. A bag of FFP costs about $30 US. This is one half to one month’s salary for a family.

Satisfied with the happy outcome, we then were ushered into a room jam packed with families with hemophilia. These were patients registered with the local hemophilia organization, HAP-C (Hemophilia of the Philippines, Cebu). This is a well run group, and the sheer number of families attending attests to their good rapport with the community and ability to organize. Everyone looked so happy to see us. We had some presentations. A young man named Ed stood up and told us that he won’t let hemophilia stop him from attending college and becoming an employee some day. Another young man, Jurich, also stoop to give a testimonial about how he will not let hemophilia defeat him. Jurich could be a motivational speaker some day!

We then had to excuse ourselves to give some presentations to a large group of residents in the auditorium. I looked up and saw a banner with all our names printed on it to welcome us. We spoke about the importance to learn about hemophilia, to treat the patients at once, to work with HAP-C, and to listen to parents when they tell you, as doctors, something is wrong. Andrea gave an important perspective on VWD, which is largely undiagnosed in the Philippines. Thanks to Andrea, who used to be a reporter with the national newspaper Inquirer, had an interview with the press afterwards. The reporters published their articles the next day, and gave an excellent overview of our meeting and of hemophilia.

After this meeting we returned to the most important people on the face of the earth, the hemophilia families We told them that we were enrolling everyone in Save One Life, our child sponsorship program, and that the money could be used to help pay for school, transportation to the clinic, or FFP or cryo. Father Don stressed that they continue to work with HAP-C, and to be empowered.

See photos of the whole trip here.

You might think how hard it must be to feel empowered when there is no factor, and when a family cannot afford even cryo. But you would be amazed at the resilience we see here. Families come to meetings, even when there is nothing to offer but snacks. Families have hope. I don’t doubt that the pervasive faith I see everywhere on these islands helps not only to cope with hemophilia, but helps them to bond together. As a community, they are strong. But they are in great need. I looked forward to our next leg of the trip, where we would go to more rural communities in the south. We said our good byes to the families, pledging to stay in touch and to offer assistance.

Philippine Journal: Day 5

Our whirlwind fact-finding mission to the Philippines continues. I’ve been to many developing countries in different parts of the world, but the overwhelming things that stand out in the Philippines are these: tremendous compassion for one another. I’ve never seen a community where there is so much obvious love, respect and concern for the hemophilia patients. It’s a remarkable testament to the Filipino culture and their Christian faith. Families care deeply about one another; doctors care deeply for their patients; the hemophilia national organization cares deeply for its members. It shows in every gesture, word, action.

But it’s not enough. I’ve also seen that the Philippines has a noticeably high rate of pseudotumors, premature deaths, joint deformities, and lack of infrastructure. The hospitals are not maintaining adequate patient registries, there is little government lobbying and even after so many years of intervention, still no factor. But there’s hope in uniting this deep compassion with a written strategy and plan for the future.

On Wednesday, October 15, our team — Rose Noyes, Father Don Kill and I — went to visit patients in their homes. First stop was 16-year-old Cil Juner, or “Jun Jun.” (Nicknames are common here). He lives with his parents and two year old sister in a very small apartment in Manila. Small means two rooms which house: their beds (just slats of wood, which convert to seats in the daytime), table, a photography studio, clothes; about 12 x 12. Melody, the mom, runs a studio for portraits. Jun Jun always has a smile and wants to be a photographer someday too. We will enroll him in Save One Life, and hope that his sponsorship money will help him in his career someday. The family is poor, cannot afford factor, and Jun Jun has some arthropathy. It’s difficult for him to climb the many steps to the second floor to get home. But what a lovely family! As they welcomed us like royalty, Melody brought our delicious sweets that she herself had made. Despite their obvious lack of money, they still put visitors first.

After this visit we drove some more in a taxi through the streets of Manila to see Randolph, who is a board member of HAPLOS. His house is in a nice district, and we were happy to see a pretty brick home with a lovely garden in the front. Realty set in when we realized that this was not his house: Randolph and his wife Mel live in a one room apartment off the side of the house. To access it, Randolph, who has severe contractures in his leg joints, must scale a long staircase each day. He climbed the stairs in obvious pain, never once complaining.

Inside, we squeezed together on one seat, while Randolph and Mel introduced us to their 18-year-old son, a tall, healthy looking young man who is in college. He showed us their loft, where he sleeps, directly above the living area. I quickly estimated the size of the dwelling to be about 12 x 12 also, with a higher ceiling to accommodate the loft. Two grown boys sleep in the loft. The parents flatten out the old, cracked vinyl couch, from which foam protrudes, and for a bed at night. Right next to them is the filled propane tank which fuels their cooking fire. Kitchen, living area are one, and the loft is directly above.

Randolph and Mel seem happy, despite the limited living space, limited money and no factor. They are grateful for everything they have. They share with us family photos in a small album, and express their hopes for their son to finish college and get a good career. So many hemophilia families in the developing world focus on education primarily. When you meet a child, you never ask “How old are you?” like we do in the States; you ask, “What class (grade) are you in?”

Soon it was time to move on. We said our good byes to Randolph and his family in the steamy air and set off back to the Columban Missionary house. The taxi pulled up the circular drive, surrounded by lush tropical plants, and Lila, the gorgeous young female boxer who stands guard at the entrance, greeted us. We had the rest of the evening to ourselves, to take notes, review our schedule, and email our families. Dinner is a communal affair, usually shared with visiting missionaries or with those who are posted in the city from many other countries. It’s a nice chance to dine with an Aussie, Fijian, or Irishman!

Read here for an article in the Manila press about our visit: http://netmail.verizon.net/webmail/driver?nimlet=deggetemail&fn=INBOX&page=3°Mid=21984&folderSelected=INBOX

On Thursday, October 16, we started our morning by visiting the government hospital, Philippines General Hospital (PGH). This hospital is free for patients, though patients still often must purchase everything related to medical care, from cotton balls to band aids to stitches for their own operations. It’s a large hospital, and the open corridors have a flurry of people walking quickly from place to place: doctors, patients, maintenance workers, surrounded by the ever present tropical plants and sunshine. Our entourage gets a lot of stares as we are obviously visitors, and there are not many visitors to the Philippines; at least, not to the hospital.

En route to our meeting, we scoped out Ronald, an adult admitted just a few days before with a bleed. It took a while to find him, as there is no computerized record for admissions–you have to flip through a big ledger book and ask directions a lot–but there he was, sitting up in bed, IV in hand for FFP, and a big smile on his face. Though happy to see him, we saw he was in the ER, a ward ringed with beds filled with patients in distress. He was flanked in either side by two men who were on respirators, meaning hand respirators. Life and death coexist intimately, daily and abundantly in the developing world.

We had a productive meeting with the hematology department; they’ve received factor from Project SHARE in the past and we answered their questions about future donations. Dra. Benitez gave a PowerPoint presentation about hemophilia treatment at the hospital. I was amazed to learn that in a city of 12 million, from 2003 to 2008 there were only 46 cases of hemophilia A admissions and only 5 hemophilia B! It seemed impossible. This is the hospital where the poor come when they need treatment. And then we realized that admissions includes repeats. In other words, hardly anyone comes to the hospital for treatment.

And the reasons they come? Nosebleeds. Tooth extractions. Dental bleeding. Very visible bleeds. Yes, patients do come for joint bleeds and GI bleeds, but I was really amazed to see the emphasis on gum and nose bleeds.

Why so few patients to the PGH?

Patients know that if they come, there is no factor. They stop coming, usually until it is too late. There is cryo and FFP, but they must pay for this and at $20 a bag, it’s beyond the reach of many. So they stay home and bleed out. This accounts for the high rate of joint deformities and deaths.

Hemophilia in the Philippines seems to operate in a crisis mode: and when the patient finally gets to the hospital in a crisis, it’s usually too late to fix. There are some success stories, but they are few. At least the hematologists were very engaged with us and eager to change the system. We spoke about funding a refrigerator for factor for the hospital, and trying to keep a steady supply of factor on hand for emergencies, which could be replenished.

Patients are in dire need of education about their condition: especially dental care. Dental bleeds are an easy thing to prevent with proper care!

After our meeting, we shook hands and headed off for Cebu. A 90 minute flight and we were there in this historic city, the beaches on which Magellan lost his life during his voyage to circumnavigate the globe.

Read here for video interview with Laurie in Manila:

The Philippines: Dedication, Love and Service

The Philippines is a large country in the South Pacific, made up of more than 7,000 islands. After enduring 400 years of Spanish rule, and then used as a strategic base by the US during World War II, it has thrown off the yoke of colonialism and struggles as an independent developing country. I am here in Manila until Thursday; so far I’ve seen almost nothing of Manila, due to our heavy schedule, but I have seen devastating amounts of what hemophilia can do when there is no treatment.

The government does not buy factor, despite years of dedicated negotiations by the World Federation of Hemophilia. There are drug distributors here who are licensed to sell some products (NovoSeven, Koate DVI among them) but only the wealthy few with hemophilia can afford them. Even poor patients must pay for basic things like syringes, needles and even band-aids. Life is very hard for the majority of hemophilia patients, and almost every one I meet has some major deformity, trauma or has had a family member die from untreated bleeding.

On Monday we met first thing with a group of reporters representing various national newspapers and magazines. At the invitation of Andrea Trinidad-Echavez, a mother with von Willebrand disease, and media expert, these reporters listened to my presentation of hemophilia, and its symptoms, treatment and effects, followed by extremely emotional testimonials from the patients who attended. One was Angelo Cuevas, 27, who suffered a huge psuedotumor on his hip. He related his story of trying to find treatment, of not being able to afford an operation due to the high cost of factor and the large amount he needed. When he recounted what the pain was like, you could have heard a pin drop. Angelo stammered, bit his lip, and tried to go on. He was flooded with emotions remembering the pain: “It was as if I was going mad. I screamed with pain and my neighbors were scared,” he said in his soft voice. I am not sure many of us know what level of pain that is. I looked around the room as Angelo spoke and saw amputations, twisted hands, feet that cannot be flexed flat, missing eyes, bandages, crutches; so much pain was represented here.

The reporters stayed for 90 minutes and were genuinely moved by what they heard: how could a human not be?

Meeting with Father Don

We spent the afternoon then meeting with members of HAPLOS, which stands for Hemophilia Association of the Philippines for Love and Service. Haplos also means “human touch” roughly translated from the local language. This is headed by Rey Sarmenta, the father of a grown man with hemophilia. Rey worked in commercial business for over 30 years, and is educated, well connected and deeply compassionate. He could have retired many years ago to spend each day resting in comfort, but instead has dedicated himself to helping others like his son. HAPLOS is in excellent standing with the WFH, and struggles to help so many while operating with so little. Like in most developing countries, it’s almost impossible to get the government to pay attention to the needs of those with bleeding disorders when there are economic, political, climate and epidemic issues to confront.

We relaxed that evening at the Columban missionary compound we are visiting, guests of Father Don Kill. Father Don has been our main contact here for about five years. Also compassionate and dedicated, he operates a home for teens in Mindanao, in the south. He met a teen with hemophilia one day, took him in, and has been a champion of people with hemophilia ever since. He has turned to us for factor time and again, and his expert ability to organize and follow through has enabled us to get so much factor to the Philippines that this country represents 23% of all our factor donations, making the Philippines our largest recipient of aid.

On Tuesday, October 14, we met first thing in the morning with the patients again, without HAPLOS, to hear their opinions and record their needs. Filipinos are often characterized by their gentleness, and like many Asian people, avoid public confrontation and frown upon outspokenness. How different that is from the America culture, where speaking your mind in public is not only a privilege, but is considered a right (and good entertainment). Allowing patients to speak openly helps them assess their own feelings and needs.

See photos of the whole trip here.

Not surprisingly, the focus was on factor: how to get more, how to share what little is available. Despite the large amounts we have sent, I could see we were only touching the tip of an iceberg! That was momentarily disturbing, because if the Philippines is our largest recipient and we are only serving the needs of a few, but I can’t afford to think like that. What must do whatever we can do.

One mother told how her son had an intracranial bleed and almost died, but was saved with a donation of factor. A man named Elmer told us how he made history: he was the first Filipino patient to have a successful, no complications amputation, with the factor from Project SHARE. (Imagine thinking of how lucky you are to have a successful amputation!) He was very grateful.

Most touching was Jeffrey, a young man with an expression too old for his years. He was accompanied by his mother, who specializes in alternative therapies like massage. Jeffrey is one of five brothers, all with hemophilia. Four have died. Four. With ancient pain in her eyes, the mother told us how each had died: one from an intracranial bleed, one form a motor accident, one from an operation… Jeffrey looked away, his face becoming blank as she spoke. Clearly, Jeffrey was all she had left, and she was desperate to ensure he would live. He is a university student with impeccable English, but they are not wealthy. Without money, Jeffrey could not pay his tuition bill, and his grades would not be released. Without grades, he cannot enroll in next semester’s session. They were not asking for help but only highlighting the difficulties of life here.

How much does his education cost for one semester? $200. I told him we could cover that and we’d find a sponsor for next year. (If anyone reading would like to sponsor Jeffrey, we have enrolled him in Save One Life; just email me and let me know) Jeffrey is studying to be a psychologist and wants to dedicate his career to helping the patients with hemophilia in the Philippines. With all that he has suffered personally, he has turned his pain into a mission. It’s inspiring to see how resilient the human spirit is!

After this meeting we stepped out into the steamy, tropic air and drove through Manila to attend a luncheon meeting by HAPLOS at a Christian center. Lunch was a simple KFC style box lunch and the presentation highlighted HAPLOS’ accomplishments through the years. There is a strong focus on compassion and community. Most of all, HAPLOS stresses psychological support, more than any other country I have visited. “Without factor, sometimes it’s all we can focus on,” one board member said. The board is composed of mostly parents and patients, all volunteers.

A gathering of patients took place after the presentation, and these were all different patients than the ones we had met with that morning. The need, the pain, the suffering…I have never felt so helpless in all my life. While person after person stood and thanked Project SHARE for the factor that helped with a surgery, with a dark time, with a head bleed, with a life saved, I realized that so much more work needs to be done to find a way to close the gap between the haves and have-nots. One young, delicate mother, Olive, stood and told us her 12 year old, factor IX deficient son had been hospitalized for a week with a head bleed, and she broke down crying as she asked for help. A man with an obvious eye trauma stood and said he could not afford to have surgery for his eye; Father Don stepped in and informed him of how to apply for factor through Project SHARE. Another weeping young mother came forward holding her three year old son, whose elbow was swollen and hot—an active bleed. While her son was not crying, indeed looked bored, she was shaking and crying uncontrollably. Was she suffering from guilt? Later on we spoke to her and learned she was recently divorced, and has two children with hemophilia, no money, and under great emotional duress. This is where HAPLOS can excel in helping.

The meeting was capped by lunches for everyone, and the great news that we would be enrolling everyone in Save One Life, which would help ease some of their burdens by providing each person with a US sponsor who will give $20 a month (we will need those sponsors son after I return, so please consider helping). Everyone’s eyes lit up at the news, because so many people in attendance earn so little, and deal with pain that we rarely have to face. Can you imagine having your child with hemophilia actively bleeding, in pain, and not being able to do a single thing to stop it or to help?

Some of the patients had traveled three hours to attend this meeting — three hours by bus, in pain, spending precious pesos. We pledged to reimburse everyone for travel expenses, also much appreciated. As we filtered out of the center, I saw how the entire group shuffled out, walking unevenly from such crippled limbs.

Around 4 pm we left to visit a patient in his home. This is always the favorite part of my trips, we get to enter the world of the patients and directly see their needs — the better to help meet them. We passed the impressive business center of town and then drove by shanties teetering on the banks of muddy rivers. Yancy is an 18-year-old who lives on a dark and greasy looking alley. Crowded, noisy, hot, Yancy and his mom share their two-room dwelling with four other siblings and their father. Hard as it is to fathom that, this was a step up for them! They had recently moved there from a squatter’s place, under power lines. Yancy is a second year university student (college starts at age 16 here) and determined to graduate, despite poverty, overcrowding, a bed on a concrete floor, and untreated hemophilia. He is also available for sponsorship now. Any takers? We spent that evening at a gathering at Rey’s home, sampling delicious local cuisine, relaxing with the doctors and patients, and of course, celebrating with karaoke. I managed to avoid having to sing somehow, and we were entertained by Father Don, who likes to sing Elvis, and Mayette, a board member, who has a gorgeous voice. I could see that HAPLOS really is about love and service, and deep faith. The Philippines is 95% Roman Catholic and faith enters into every aspect of life for the common person. Perhaps this faith has sustained them this far on a journey of immense suffering and yet strong community. Mayette ended our wonderful evening by singing the adopted theme song of HAPLOS, “If We Hold On Together.”

The best news was for last: as we were leaving I learned from Dra. Flerida one of the main hematologists, that factor for Olive’s son, the one with a head bleed) had just arrived that afternoon from our office. Her son was going to be fine.

See photos of the whole trip here.

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