A Filipino Guide To Appendix Russian Roulette.

One of my colleagues was rushed to the hospital for an immediate appendectomy. Kahapon lang nakita ko pang nasa opisina… Ngayon ay nasa ospital na?

Good for her, she didn't dilly-dally seeking immediate surgical attention.

I am making this post para sa mga Pinoys who treat abdominal pain and vomiting as naimpatso lang. Here is a simple guide to Appendic Russian Roulette.

Filipinos always have that School of  Thought of Medical Procrastination where the official motto is: "Wait and see, and if it still hurts, we have to wait some more." 

In the Philippines, we don't just "get sick." We engage in a complex, multi-day negotiation with our internal organs.

 Today’s guest of honor is the Appendix—that tiny, useless-looking pouch that is currently screaming for attention in your lower-right belly, but which you are treating as a minor inconvenience, like a slow internet connection ... or a long line at the NBI.

It starts with a sudden pain around your belly button. 

A normal human might think, "Oh, this is a symptom of appendicitis." The Pinoy Logic: "It’s just gas. 

Or maybe I swallowed a fishbone? Or wait—did I eat too much ampalaya yesterday? It’s probably just 'impatso' (indigestion)." 

Instead of calling a doctor, the typical Pinoy calls for White Flower, Vicks VapoRub, or a glass of warm water. 

If you can still walk (even if you're hunched over like a question mark or Ann Curtis in Kampanerang Kuba), you’re "fine." 

If you cough and it feels like someone is stabbing you with a barbecue stick? "That’s just the wind, anak. Pahiran mo ng langis."

As the pain becomes unbearable ... Pinoys still hesitate and entertain the "Sayang Ang Pera Calculus."

As the pain shifts to the lower right side and starts to worsen with every movement, the Financial Defense Mechanism kicks in.

• The Patient: "Ma, it really hurts when I breathe."

• The Decision-Maker: "Huwag ka munang mag-inarte. Ang mahal ng consultation fee! Baka bukas okey na 'yan. Sayang ang pang-Jollibee natin."

In the Philippines, we have a unique medical philosophy: "The longer you wait, the more 'sulit' (worth it) the doctor’s fee becomes." 

We don't want to pay ₱500 just to be told we have gas. We want to pay for a full-blown, cinematic emergency! 

We wait until the pain is so bad that we can’t even pray to the Sto. Niño without crying.

Now, here is the most dangerous part of the satire: The Rupture. Suddenly, after days of agony, the pain... stops.

-The Pinoy: "Sabi ko sa inyo, eh! Magaling na ako! Himala! Nawala ang sakit!"

-The Reality: Your appendix didn't "get better." It exploded. 

It has officially given up on you and decided to share its contents with the rest of your abdomen. This isn't a miracle; it's a countdown to an emergency.

Within hours, the "Wait and See" attitude turns into the "Run for Your Life" emergency. 

The fever spikes, the belly becomes as rigid as a politician’s heart during an election, and your heartbeat is faster than a Marites running to share a new blind item.

What the ordinary Pinoys don't realize is the complication buffet waiting for us - the peritonitis and the sepsis and all.

By the time the family finally decides that "Sige na nga, dalhin na sa ER," the doctor isn't just looking at a simple appendectomy. 

They’re looking at a Grand Cleaning of the Abdomen.

• The Doctor: "It ruptured. We have peritonitis, sepsis, and abscesses."

• The Family: "Hala! Bakit naman naging ganun? Kahapon lang sumakit, ah!" (Note: "Yesterday" in Pinoy time actually means four days ago).

The Filipino habit of dilly-dallying with medical care is the ultimate high-stakes gamble. 

We treat our bodies like old Jeepneys—we only bring them to the shop when the engine literally falls out on the highway.

If your belly button is crying, and your right side is dying, and you can’t cough without seeing your ancestors—STOP. 

-Stop the White Flower.

-Stop the "baka impatso.

-Stop the "sayang ang pera" math.

A surgeon’s fee for a 30-minute operation is much cheaper than a week in the ICU for sepsis. 

Your appendix is small, but its ego is huge—if you ignore it, it will go out with a bang... and collect everything you got in your pocket.

DDS Ask Yourself This: Whats The Point?

 

Resting on my couch listening to the impeachment hearing in the House of Representatives,  a song by Dionne Warwick was playing in the background.

"A chair is still a chair ...                                                      even when there's no one sitting there ...                                    but a chair is not a house ...                                                          and a house is not a home ...                                                      when there's no one there to hold you tight ...                         and no one's there you can kiss goodnight."

Wow ha ... theme song ba ito ni Sara at mga DDS? Tugmang tugma ang lyrics ah!

The DDS are a special kind of people ... and Sara Duterte's impeachment is their Martyr's Gala 2026 maisog reunion.

In the premier event, this special species of people has decided that their personal mission in life is to set themselves on fire just to keep the Duterte family warm.

It is like running a marathon for someone ... who isn't even present in the stadium.

It is a fascinating psychological study of unrequited political love. 

Across the country, we see a dedicated band of "DDS defenders" working overtime. 

They are writing manifestos, screaming at cameras, dodging arrest warrants, and watching their businesses crumble—all in the name of a Vice President who, at this very moment, is probably enjoying a very quiet, very private, and very absent afternoon.

Currently, the "Loyalty Package" comes with some rather steep hidden fees:

• The Bonus Feature: A personalized arrest warrant.

• The Loyalty Perk: A front-row seat to a "Destabilization Plot" inquiry.

• The Family Discount: Having your relatives’ bank accounts scrutinized... you can almost hear Trillanes say: "Sign the waiver ... and we can talk business."

It’s a high-stakes game! People are literally risking their freedom and their fortunes to play the role of the "Shield."

 They are the human sandbags stacked against the rising tide of the BBM administration’s legal maneuvers.

But here is the comedic genius of the situation: The Shield is protecting an "empty chair."

While the loyalists are out there catching legal bullets, Vice President Sara is a master of the "Tactical Absence." 

She treats impeachment hearings like a gym membership—she’s technically enrolled, but she never actually shows up to do the heavy lifting.

• The Defenders: "She is a victim! This is a witch hunt! We will fight to the death!"

• Sara: [Status: Not Found. Error 404: Presence not detected.]

It’s like being a bodyguard for a ghost. You’re taking all the punches, but the person you’re protecting isn't even in the room to say "Ouch."

And let’s talk about the ultimate family support system. 

If you’re a loyalist, you’d expect the siblings to be the first line of defense, right?

Wrong. While the "die-hard" supporters are sweating under the heat of a 53-0 committee vote, the brothers are often seen practicing the ancient art of the "Not My Problem" Shrug.

One is busy challenging people to gunfights (which, let's be honest, is more of a hobby than a legal defense), and the other is just... there.

When your own family is less enthusiastic about defending you than a random congressman from another district, you have reached a level of political "friend-zoning" that is truly legendary.

This brings us to the most important question: What is the point?

If you are a supporter whose business is failing and whose name is on an NBI watchlist, you have to wonder if the "Thank You" card is ever coming in the mail. (Spoiler: It’s not coming. It’s confidential.)

It’s the Sunk Cost Fallacy of Philippine politics:

1. -I’ve already lost my reputation for her.

2. -I’ve already lost my business for her.

3. -I might as well lose my freedom too, because if I stop now, I’ll have to admit I did all of this for someone who won't even show up to her own hearing to explain where the ₱125 million went.

The loyalists are playing a game of chess where they are the pawns, the knights, and the rooks—but the Queen has already left the board and plan for her next vacation abroad.

Loyalty is a beautiful thing, but it’s usually more effective when it’s a two-way street. 

If you’re the only one standing in the rain holding an umbrella, and the person you’re covering is already inside a dry, confidential building, you aren't a "defender." You’re just an unpaid intern in a very expensive legal drama.

If Cong Polong can't even spare an hour of his time defending  Sara in the hearing, the way Paolo Marcoleta did ... why do you have to risk everything for her ... if her own brother doesn't have time ... what is she to you that you have to give time?

Why ruin your life ... your family ... and your work? What's the point, folks?

As the song goes ... a house is not a home ... kung si Mayor Baste nga ay putak lang ng putak and challenging everybody to gunfights that never happen.

Pero wala man lang brother who can hold her tight ... at wala man lang brother ... she can kiss goodnight?