I just got out of the hospital yesterday, where I was confined for tests prior to the removal of a mesenteric cyst from my abdomen. (Those interested in what a mesenteric cyst is may click this link: http://www.surgicalroundsonline.com/issues/articles/2008-03_05.asp. I hope that the information will help people who have the same condition).

Philippine General Hospital (PGH) is a much cheerier, brighter place now than in the years past, when I would go through its halls hunting for health stories.

Now that I am the patient, the view from the charity ward is different, less jaded, I guess.

I got put with the cancer surgery patients and I marveled at how well these people adjusted to having only one al fresco toilet (the other two were regurgitating toilets, so the doors to these cubicles were locked with mop handles). The renovation of these wards are in progress and, I guess, the bathrooms were last on the list for renovation.

Because I'd never been a charity patient, I forgot to bring cotton, alcohol, all the stuff you expect the hospital to provide when you are a patient - these items are things charity patients do not get for free. The lady two beds down from mine provided me with a wad of cotton and the woman in bed 42 (beside mine) provided the alcohol when a medic arrived needing to take blood from me and telling me I should have had these things ready.

Yesterday was a lesson in small kindnesses that I am learning about from the view of the charity ward. There I found small acts of charity from people I did not know. Perhaps the world has hope if indigent patients with cancers severe enough to warrant the removal of body parts can still find it in their hearts to share what meager resources they have with a complete stranger.

My wardmates shared food that was provided on the old-style metal trays that are still in use in PGH decades after they were manufactured. Enough food for two people is put on one tray and the wardmates divide up their meals by placing the food on paper plates or plastic food containers they bring and use their own utensils.

PGH does this, I guess, to save funds - even dish-washing soap costs money, after all and the ward staff have enough to handle with about 50 people to a ward. My brother raised his eyebrows as he saw me share my meal with the lady in bed 42 in the manner I'd just described. I just smiled and told him it gives me an opportunity to share with others - and I meant that statement. The lady in bed 42 was good enough to let me choose which part of the milkfish in tausi I wanted to take - yet another kindness I did not expect - and she had just had a breast removed not 10 hours before our shared meal.

To expect kindness from a healthy person is already asking a lot from the world. To receive kindness from people who are in a surgery ward for post-operative care after the removal of cancerous masses in their bodies is a welcome and humbling surprise.

I am out of that ward, for now, but will be due back next week. I hope that I can return the kindness when I am the one who has been cut open and stitched back together again.