New blood a lifesaver for Manila's poor

The emergency room at the Philippine General Hospital is not the kind we have grown accustomed to on prime-time television. There are no liquid crystal displays blinking at bedsides. There is no visible technology at all, just the spectral hissing of oxygen as it is fed from its central tank through cables and pipes to the resuscitation room.

There is also the pungent smell. It stops you dead, as soon as you turn the corner. An amalgamation of disinfectant, urine, stale blood, vomit and dirt, all stagnating together in the heat.

The doctors do not notice it any more. I have to leave every 10 minutes to breathe fresh air in the courtyard. I am thirsty but cannot drink; thinking about the smell makes me gag.

No one said this would be enjoyable, or how difficult it would be.

The PGH, built by the Japanese during World War II and used at one point as an internment camp, is the Philippines' biggest and busiest hospital. It is also government-run, which means it can turn no one away, not even the poorest of the poor. I am here because the ER needs volunteers. No medical experience necessary. Simply turn up at 8 am, any day of the week.

Volunteers are needed because the ER is out of control. It was built to accommodate 100 patients. Today there are 300 sick people present, lying on trestle tables, on gurneys, in the dimly-lit corridor and in some cases, on the floor. There is not a bed to be seen.