Western Dream vs Reality

Seeking a better life for yourself and your loved ones is a universal goal we all strive to achieve. This narrative reflects the lives of many immigrants choosing to escape poverty, violence or complacency. Although I was born in Canada, hearing and witnessing the stories of those who went down this path raises questions in me of which their answers now remain ambiguous …

Being the eldest daughter of two Filipino parents who immigrated to Canada in the nineties, I’ve seen the relentless hours both have had to sacrifice to work in order to not only make ends meet for my brothers and I, but to also support their extended families back home. When I was younger, I did not think much of it when my parents were out working late, or had multiple jobs at once. This concept of “overtime” was of no significance to me. In fact, growing up, my father and mother feared that if I worked part-time, it would interfere with my performance at school and thus, forced me to just focus on my studies. In high school, while many of my peers were cashiers at retail stores or fast food restaurants, I got a 20$ weekly allowance and tried not to spend it all in one go (eventually, I did get my first job at the age of 16 as an ice cream scooper - shoutout to Ben & Jerry’s lol). Now, as a working adult, how they’ve managed to raise us while simultaneously sending money to the Philippines blows my mind. With the myriad of taxes, bills, unforeseen repairs, GAS!, licensing fees, tuition fees, mortgage payments and groceries, the famous OT is a notion I have become way too familiar with, unfortunately.

You may be thinking, “Okay Cristine. you brought up immigration and now you’re talking about the regular working life here in Canada, what is your point?” Patience, fellow readers, I’m getting to it.

The emigration of Filipinos abroad is very common; those who work abroad are denoted as “OFWs” - overseas Filipino workers. They are everywhere: Saudi Arabia, Spain, Italy, Canada, USA, Australia, Hong Kong, you name it! As I meet more and more Filipinos, I realized quickly that there is much in common with the stories they shared: life has become mostly comprised of work. Work, work, work. Working hard is not a bad thing at all. However, working yourself to illness or even death is not.

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At the Neuro ICU, just in the past four months, we have had at least three patients of Filipino descent that have come in for brain bleeds of which stress may have been a contributing factor. Here is a summary of their stories:

• Mrs. B.

She was a middle-aged woman who lived alone in Canada as a caregiver. She had no partner, no children, but friends who lived in the same apartment building as her. When one of her friends noticed that she wouldn’t pick up her phone calls, she got worried and called 911. Her landlord had to be called to open her apartment door. Then, she was found by the paramedics unconscious on the floor. How long was she there? No one really knows. When she initially came in to our unit, she was unconscious. Her friends were her only visitors as her family lived in the Philippines. Once Mrs. B (the patient) regained consciousness post-EVD insertion (a tube draining the blood in her brain), she is a sweet soft spoken lady. However, she appeared very stoic and did not talk much. One of her friends (who may as well be her family at this point) shares with me information I find saddening. As I ask about her family in the Philippines, she tells me that unfortunately, her family in the Philippines have been pestering her, asking that money be sent to them from the patient, despite knowing she is sick and hospitalized. When I ask the friend if Mrs. B. is aware of this, she replies, “No, I don’t want her having to stress about this. She has to focus on her health first and foremost.”. As she keeps improving in the following weeks, Mrs. B becomes more open and shows a smile here and there. Although I can see she is saddened by her situation (she remains unable to move her legs), she is grateful for the care provided by the team. She eventually made it out of the hospital and went to rehab. I can only hope she is doing better and living happy despite the circumstances.

• Mrs. A.

She was a woman in her forties who, after working a 16-hour shift as a PAB, collapsed at home. Her husband (English Canadian) was at her bedside on her admission day past midnight. She also had an EVD inserted to drain out the blood in her brain. A few weeks later, her status improves greatly and she was discharged from hospital. The last few words that were said by the team as she left our unit were "Ate (sister), don't do too much overtime okay?". She smiles and acknowledges the importance of our message.

• Mr. D.

He was a man in his late twenties who had been admitted to our ICU from a ruptured aneurysm secondary to hypertension. He underwent an emergency decompression (surgery that involves removing part of the skull to relieve pressure from the bleeding in the brain). When you have patients that are close to you in age, it sometimes make you wonder "That could have been me.". Seeing him intubated, and with an EVD made myself reflect on my own work habits. As per his parents, he also worked various hours to support a wife and kid that still remained in the Philippines. Although he knew he had hypertension, he did not have regular doctor check-ups and had apparently refused to take medications to aid his health. Unfortunately, when discharged from our unit, he had not regained complete consciousness.

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Following the stories mentioned, there is a misconception that once you make it to the Western world (or any other first-world country), life becomes easier and more "glamorous". However, what I believe families left in the country of origin fail to notice is that, making money comes at a cost that sometimes may be irreversible or damaging to one's mental health. It is quite disheartening to hear fellow friends born in the Philippines describe how, despite living in poverty, happiness was easier to find back home. Although a sense of community exists in the Western world, nothing compares to the one felt in the homeland. Back in the Philippines, from what I have been told, you will always find someone available to hang out with or talk to. Here, unfortunately, scheduling hangout requires much preparation and planning due to different working schedules.

We live in a fast-paced society where working for the majority of the population takes over most of our time. Hustling to pay our bills is first nature to us rather than taking care of our own health. It makes me wonder how life would have been had I was raised in the Philippines. Whether you live in Canada, or in the Philippines, each have their benefits and struggles. Which struggle do you want to pick, at what expense? Life is not so black and white after all ...