Jungle by night
It’s 2 a.m. and you need medicines, not necessarily for some life-threatening condition but for an ailment that’s serious enough for you not wait.
Would you know where the nearest drugstore is, one that’s open?
That was my predicament some weeks back, which turned to be an adventure of sorts and a wake-up call about several other issues, from senior citizen driving to the night perils of Metro Manila’s concrete jungle.
When you’ve raised several children, your body’s internal rhythms seem almost to align with those of your kids. That night, I woke up around 2 a.m. sensing something was wrong with one of my daughters, who had been complaining of discomfort after dinner. I put my hand to her forehead and, without having to use a thermometer, knew she was running a high fever.
A few more questions and I knew it was related to a perennial problem she’d been having, and what to give. I had her medicines from the last time she needed them, but they were now expired, so I knew I would have to go out into the night and get them.
Then I had a minor anxiety attack. It had been a while since I drove in the middle of the night; worse, there was no one who could go with me. I was all alone that night with my kids, except for a security guard who didn’t know how to drive (and who was, sigh, asleep). I don’t have stay-in household help or drivers.
I’ve found that as I become more senior a citizen, I avoid driving even during the day for any number of reasons, mainly—and you can laugh out loud—because of the difficulty with parking.
Driving at night triggers a different set of anxieties. I know the city inside out, including our urban poor areas, and I just feel the impunity of our times worsens in the darkness of the night.
I assured my daughter I’d be back soon, and to call if she needed anything.
I started the car with my mind practically a blank. For some reason, the only large Mercury Drug store I could remember was in Quiapo, in front of the basilica! Then I thought of the nearest urban hub—Cubao, only about 7 kilometers from UP where I live. I figured if that didn’t work, I would go to one of the larger hospitals.
Only after some driving did I realize how stupid it was of me not to check on the internet. A quick search of “24/7 drugstores” and I had several results, including a Mercury Philcoa, which was only 2 km from UP!
I made my way back, entering a small street right before Philcoa. And then it happened. A burly man stopped my vehicle and pointed to a barricade. I couldn’t figure out his point, since that street was always open during the day. I’ll spare you the details of the encounter.
I finally got to Philcoa and saw the Mercury Drug branch. I asked a security guard where I could park; he said I could park anywhere since it was nighttime. I sprinted to the drugstore, got the medicines and sprinted out, worried I’d run into some barangay tanod again.
All’s well that ends well, sort of.
Lessons learned?
Always be prepared with medicines you need, but that’s easier said than done. Having cared for elderly parents for nearly a decade, with every geriatric ailment you can imagine, and now being a senior citizen myself while also raising young kids, I’m pretty good with stocking up on medicines and supplies. Inevitably, though, there will be that emergency where you don’t have what’s needed.
Scan your area for 24/7 drugstores, and while you’re at it, for emergency care of different levels. Although hospitals cannot turn people away if you don’t have money for a deposit, you’ll still have to get around to settling bills, so be prepared for that. The hospitals are smart enough to offer you ATMs in their premises.
And dealing with the beasts of the night jungle?
Preferably, don’t drive alone. Find another adult to go with you—or a dog, even if it’s a dachshund like the one I have. In the dark, she sounds like a German shepherd.
Seriously, I did think, too, how terrible it must be for the poor, day or night, even with drugstores open everywhere, not being able to get needed medicines because they don’t have the money.
