story_bobb_1_1

You asked me why I chose your company. I would like to share an encounter with an old friend from when I was a social worker.

Next. Please put your health report here. What's your name?

Julio Blanco Antonio.

Julio?! It's you!

Glad to see you still remember me.

It's not like I had many friends in middle school.

I was worried when I lost touch with you after that thing. Where did you go? What have you been up to?

You mean that time when those kids cornered us in the bathroom and I broke one of their noses.

The school wanted to expel me for it, but you insisted on appealing all the way up to the headmaster, and you actually got them to downgrade the expulsion to a suspension.

But you chose to leave anyway...

I'm sorry, Eliseo. I was angry at how they treated descendants of refugees like us. I didn't want to stay and grovel to them.

I was a fool. At least we could beat them in schoolwork while we were there.

Julio... are you alright?

I... you know, Eliseo, that day in the bathroom. I looked down on you for trying to talk to them rather than fight them.

But I began to admire you after learning what you did for me. Now, you're a valued member of the community, while I'm still a burden.

I saw the health report in his hand. Saw it as soon as he walked through the door.

It's that bad? Your condition.

The worst disease here is not Oripathy, but poverty.

Stamp it for me, old friend. I hear the insurance companies need it before they pay. They accept your reports, don't they?

Is there something wrong?

I rarely see first-time visitors whose conditions are so serious, unless they refused treatment... or failed to receive a diagnosis until their condition had advanced significantly.

When was your last health check? Where? Can I see the report?

I brought it... the last few checkups were at a community center near my home.

This is... have you been taking your medicine on time?

I've taken all my meds on time! I swear! I never miss a single one!

But it works differently on different people, right? Oripathy wouldn't exist if there was a real cure!

Do you have to look so closely? It's just a regular old health report. Go ahead and stamp it if there's no problem, alright?

But your Cell-Originium Assimilation has increased by 1% this quarter alone. At this rate...

You need to consider additional treatment, if basic medication isn't working.

Good advice. I'll keep it in mind.

Julio... is this about money?

What else? Basic insurance is all we can afford.

Nadie's pregnant. Yes, I got married. Before I got sick, I thought she was the only good thing to happen to me in this shithole country.

Now, though, I'm a burden to my family.

I'm sorry, Julio.

I said I was sorry. At the time, I thought it couldn't be helped. Many patients see their conditions steadily deteriorate, until they meet the same end.

If you really want to help... do you have any meds here that you don't need? You know, leftovers, samples from insurance companies, expired ones, that sort of stuff?

If you could slip me a box or two...

I'm sorry, I can't. All medicine pickups must be registered.

I've never begged you before, Eliseo, even when we were the best of friends. I hate begging, I-I never did that, even to those Columbian kids.

...I'm sorry, Julio.

Hah, just kidding. I'll take my portion and leave.

We collect donations from the community to subsidize treatment for patients with economic hardship. You can fill out this form...

Has anyone actually gotten that kind of help?

Yes... not many, though.

Luck doesn't just decide to favor people like us.

Fill it out anyway while I get your meds for this quarter. I'll be a minute.

The door to the storage room was made of glass. As I unlocked the door with my pass, I saw him crane his neck looking at me in the reflection.

I felt guilty. Perhaps he still harbored hope that I would happen to find a spare box of medicine.

Here's your medicine, Julio... and I've stamped your health report. I'll do what I can to help you. I promise.

Thanks, Eliseo... see you.

At first, I thought little more of this reunion between old classmates, until an anxious colleague came to me the next morning.

Forty-five, forty-six... you're right, we're one box short. The number was correct when I took inventory yesterday before I left. You were the one who asked for another check, Mick. Did something happen?

Just one box? Well... I thought there might have been a break-in at the office. I lost my lanyard yesterday and found it in the corridor this morning.

Don't look at me like this, I know you've reminded me many times...

When you leave your lanyard on the table for everyone coming in and out of the office to see, we have no choice but to suspect the visitors when something goes missing. It's irresponsible to both sides.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Did you notice any suspicious characters, then?

Maybe someone stole the lanyard while they were in here, stole a box of meds, then fled the scene, leaving the work pass behind?

That doesn't make sense. Why did the thief steal just one box? Could there be another reason?

Let's not suspect anyone without evidence. Keep your pass safe, and I'll see what I can do about the lost meds.

I visited Julio's house with a few daily necessities after work that day.

I know I shouldn't suspect him without evidence, but there was something about his sudden appearance and his condition that troubled me.

His expression when he saw me at the door was not one of welcome... it was hostility, mixed with a tingle of fear.

He opened the door just a crack, blocking it with his own body.

(Hushed) Eliseo? How did you...?

Your address was on the registration documents. I apologize for the surprise visit, but I was concerned. Are you and your wife doing alright?

(Hushed) Yes, yes... I'm fine, as you can see. Maybe I shouldn't have talked to you yesterday... anyway, there's no need to worry about us.

(Hushed) It's a mess inside and we don't have anything for guests. Even the coffee beans are reused. I'm afraid we can't offer our hospitality...

At least let me say hello to your wife...

(Hushed) She's pregnant and the doctor says she needs rest. Go, Eliseo. Please.

I heard a familiar name, honey. Is it that old classmate of yours?

You should be in bed! Eliseo is... he's leaving. I'm just going to see him off. No, there's no need to come...

Hello, Eliseo! I'm Nadie. Julio talks about you a lot. We really appreciate what you've done to help us. Please, come in and have some coffee.

No...

That would be lovely, thank you.

I'll get the pot, honey.

You're the one who really needs rest. I'm not that weak.

I can help myself.

After a little bit of argument, Nadie brings out what little coffee they had left and poured me a cup. All they had in front of them was water. It was awkward, but the alternative was to let their kindness go to waste.

Julio speaks very highly of you. He thinks back to his middle school days when things aren't going well.

He always put himself on the line for others. I owe him a lot myself.

Yes, he does... speaking of which, I have to thank you for what you did to help us yesterday...

Ahem! I told Eliseo that we were expecting. That's why he came today.

Please don't interrupt me, dear. It's such an important thing, we ought express our gratitude properly.

For what?

That box of medicine you gave us.

I noticed the despair on Julio's face. He looked at me pleadingly.

Medicine...

It's nothing. Don't mention it.

Oh, come now, I know how big a deal a whole box of medicine can be. But it's true that we really needed it.

The baby isn't coming for another six months. We both want him or her to have a chance to meet Daddy.

If Julio gets proper treatment...

...It's getting late, Eliseo. I'll walk you to the station.

What is this box of medicine about? What about the six months?

Please, Eliseo...

What's going on, Julio?

(Buries face in hands and weeps) Do you really have to do this?

Julio...

Nadie's infected as well... we worked on the same production line and got infected in the same accident...

With the amount of money an Infected can make, we hardly have anything left after insurance premiums.

My situation is even worse. Besides, she's pregnant and needs to stay strong.

We talked it over and came to the conclusion that this was the best choice. We only bought one insurance plan, and she takes the meds. That way, people won't know she's Infected, and she can find normal jobs that pay better.

As for me...

Term life. One-time payout if the insured dies within one year...

The mother takes the medicine to ensure that the child is born safely, while you try to die within a year so they'll have the money to pay the bills and pay for treatment. That's your plan.

At this rate, though, I may not last six months... the thought occurred to me when I heard that you were working in the community.

Other people might not be willing to stamp the papers, considering how quickly my condition is deteriorating. And I thought, maybe I could last a little longer if you managed to get me some meds...

I didn't want to cause you trouble, so I stole someone else's pass...

Now you know. I've told you everything. Please, for heaven's sake... don't report me... please...

I was at a loss for words. Father and Mother decided which one of them had to die to ensure that their child would live. Was this truly something that couldn't be helped?

It was for people like them that I chose this profession. But what could I do, at the end of the day, other than pay for that box of medicine out of my own pocket?

I made a decision after a few days of wrestling with frustration and helplessness. With Julio's permission, I began sending out petitions.

Letter to the Department of Business, Tower Mountains, unread.

Letter to Senator Scott, read, no response.

Letter to Mr. Roland, reporter, read. Expressed his sympathies in his response, but hinted that such cases were not newsworthy.

Letter to <i>Trimounts Daily</i>, read, declined.

I opened my mail every day, only to be greeted with disappointment. After dozens of fruitless efforts, I finally got a response from the Maylander Foundation.

Julio's story got a small column in a charity pamphlet, roughly the size of a train ticket. That was the turning point.

Am I speaking to Mr. Eliseo? I'm an aide to Mr. Scott, who read your article and is very sympathetic to your friend's plight. He would like to offer his assistance.

The senator...? I believe I wrote to him before.

Ah... you must understand that Mr. Scott gets many requests from many sectors on a daily basis. I ask for your understanding if we were not timely in our response. But we're working toward the same goal now. All's well that ends well, right?

(Long exhale) Yes, indeed. What do I need to do?

Nothing except to provide us with your friend's contact information. We will reach out to him directly.

May I ask how Senator Scott intends to render assistance?

On television. Mr. Scott will be appearing on a show to talk about his charity projects.

This is Julio and Nadie's place.

Like many second-generation Bolívarian immigrants, Julio and his wife live in an old, run-down building, getting by on backbreaking labor for paltry wages.

But this night was different. The fate of this young couple was forever altered when an Originium boiler at their workplace exploded.

(Exaggerated) Oh, honey... you're Infected too! But we'll make it, I swear. We've got each other, and that's a lot, isn't it?

*cough* There was actually some good news that I wanted to tell you... now, though, I don't know if it's good news or bad news.

I'm pregnant.

Julio seemed to have forgotten his lines, staring blankly at Nadie for a while, before he broke down in tears. Nadie tried to console him, but soon burst into tears as well.

It did not seem scripted. The cameraman quickly zoomed in onto their faces, and the footage was broadcast to the whole country, after being carefully and masterfully edited.

A TV outside Senator Scott's office played the program on loop, as patient after patient acted out their pain for the camera.

They had to showcase their despair and helplessness to the public, so that some benevolent benefactor might descend from above, and extend a helping hand...

It wasn't my place to criticize. They received help, help that I was unable to render. And so, I paid a visit to Senator Scott's office.

You said your name was Eli...seo?

You contacted me about the article seeking help for Julio and Nadie.

Ah, you. What brings you in today, sir?

I watched the program that Julio was featured on. At the end, Mr. Scott promised to work with the community to reduce the burden on the Infected.

I happened to be involved in this issue in the community, and I've come to discuss cooperation.

Very good, very good... do you have an appointment?

No.

Then I'm afraid you'll have to come again another day. Mr. Scott's schedule is booked solid.

Eliseo, welcome back.

I wrote to request an appointment, but I did not get an answer.

As I've said before, Mr. Scott is a busy man, and he may not have time to read all the mail he gets.

That's why I've summarized my observations about the difficulties that the Infected face in this document. Can you pass it on to Mr. Scott?

Certainly.

Please tell him that I eagerly await his reply.

I will, Eliseo.

If it isn't Eliseo again. You've been here once a week these past few months.

All I can do for them is persevere. But Mr. Scott can do much more.

I agree. I will remind Mr. Scott to read the documents that you compiled. But he's out of office today, so I'm afraid you'll have to come again another time.

...I will.

You understand, don't you, Eliseo? A show can do a lot for Mr. Scott. But what does he have to gain from continuing to intervene? What can this community do for a senator?

Thanks for the explanation. I understand now... I won't bother you again.

This is why I came to your company.

Thank you for sharing this story, Eliseo. But you haven't answered why you came to Pure Heart Medical.

From my point of view, your last statement indicates that you saw the politician for who he is, and stopped wasting time on him.

Why turn to us, then? Is it because we were the only ones who answered you?

My friend got the help he needed thanks to a show. At the end of the day, though, nothing has changed for the Infected.

A whole family sharing a single person's prescription; patients who falsify blood tests to hide the progress of their condition; patients who choose to end their lives because of economic pressure and how other people look at them...

I can't prepare a show and find a benevolent sponsor for everyone...

I don't even know if my proposal works or not. If there's no one to open it, there's no one to criticize or approve it.

I came to seek cooperation.

Would things be different if there was a whole group of people sharing the same goal, rather than just one or two futilely trying to change things on their own? I want to give it a try.