I wasn’t able to see Doc Thelma anymore. Twelve years ago, when I was in the emergency room of Makati Medical Center, I was already confirmed to have multidrug-resistant TB. My doctor back then also confirmed that I would never see again. I remember just crying, with my head and neck paralyzed due to muscle spasms at the back of my neck, after all the paid first-line medication and all the other wrong diagnoses I went through.
Someone touched my hand and I heard a warm voice saying, “I will now be your doctor.” I wasn’t able to talk due to the pain, and she just rubbed my shoulders, comforting me. It was Doctor Thelma. I just trusted her that everything would still be okay, even if I would never see the faces of my loved ones again.
I took the 24‑month treatment at TDF and experienced all of the side effects—vomiting every day and nonstop headaches. After the two years of treatment and with all the antidepressants and sleeping pills finished, the real depression set in. I was already planning ways to commit suicide when my phone rang and Doc Thelma told me, “I want you to be a leader for the patients association.” This was the year I was still trying to join local disability associations and learn the blind life. I told her, “I’m blind, Doc, and I don’t know how to do leadership.” She simply told me, “You will be amazing.”
I remember her telling me her story: “I was also a TB patient myself, and TB patients like us need to be heard.” I got hired by TDF for Community Strengthening, and it became a therapy for me to forget what I lost during and after the disease. I tried to follow her advice and reported to her using my talking laptop for the blind and my phone—anything to show what I was able to accomplish.
I remember her always hugging me and kissing my forehead whenever she saw me at Makati Medical Center. She was like my mom in MMC, and TDF was like my family. I gained a career, new friends, and believed that I had a purpose again. She always found the time to reply to my emails or texts until the suspension of the Global Fund happened.
I told her I would try pursuing a Master’s degree in Public Policy in the US. She told me, “Just continue being a changemaker.” I got an internship at WHO and learned that TDF made a big impact in ending TB. I met Doc Thelma’s international colleagues and continued advocating for the disease. I started receiving invitations to speak to governments in Australia, visited Capitol Hill in Washington, DC, and I constantly reported these experiences to her. She would still find time to reply. Her words were, “Good job, Louie” and “Bravo.”
When I was featured in an international magazine and a Manila press release happened in Intramuros, I learned she was in the room. I immediately looked for her and touched her hand. She sounded weak, but her hand felt so happy to see me.
One time, I had to represent the TB community of Asia as a speaker for the Global Fund Advocates Network. I emailed Doc about my plan to show my treatment center, hoping she would be included in my life story video. I didn’t get a response and started hearing that she was having health conditions. But I was surprised when she still welcomed me and the international videographers at the TDF facility. She toured us around the offices and even helped me put on my mask.
When we finished shooting, I remember hugging her tightly and telling her, “I love you, Doc, and I will report to you more and make you proud.”
The last time I talked to her, I asked about the plan we had for the Filipino TB community back in 2009. She told me, “The plan has always been to create a national group to represent the needs of the affected community. It is going to be hard with the situation in our country, but individuals like you can definitely make a big change.”
I’m just not ready for her passing because I still planned to make her proud and make her happy. All I know now is that I promise her I will continue to be a leader and be a hero just like her.
Again, I love you, Doc, and I know that you will now be another angel of mine up there to guide me every step of the way.
