Guru of Medical Missions

Last week, on Good Friday, we commemorated one of the most tragic moments in history -- the passion and death of Jesus Christ. Last week, on that very same Friday, we also lost one of our own -- Dr. Ed Manaig.

Death always leaves a void in the heart. In Ed's case, it is a lingering void. We have lost an esteemed colleague, a dear friend, an extraordinary man.

Ed spent his life in the service of others -- seeing thousands of patients in his clinic and in the hospital, day in and day out, on weekdays and weekends. He spent his life caring for his family and caring for his friends. And caring for just about everyone. It is symbolic that in the end, Ed's heart failed. Because that was the part of him that worked the hardest.

Ed had many remarkable qualities. He was always cheerful, always smiling (even when overworked and overstressed), always ready to hold on to the karaoke and sing his heart out. And always ready to convince others to sing along with him. One of his striking successes, outside of medicine (for which he received numerous awards, such as Physician Hero in 2004 and Outstanding Filipino-American in 1999), was convincing Dr. Albert Valenzuela to sing "Edelweiss" late into the night everyone was asleep, on the balcony of the Paradise Hills resort. That was, without comparison, the most memorable night of our medical mission in the Visayas.

His greatest quality was his kindness and generosity. Back in 1988, when I left UCSD to start a practice and was in the process of buying a home and putting a down payment together, Ed quickly took his checkbook out and asked how much I needed. Just like that. And we hardly knew each other at the time.

I witnessed that generosity unmistakably shine in the medical missions to the Philippines and other countries that he and Estela painstakingly organized. Sometimes, people got a bit exasperated at Ed because he insisted on conducting clinics everyday and there was hardly time to rest in between. He knew that our schedule was tight. But he also reasoned, and rightly so, that there were many patients to see. Eight hundred to over a thousand patients would flock the free clinics daily, so Ed did not want to miss a beat.

During last year's medical mission, I saw him huffing and puffing, after a long day, at the clinic. Despite Estela's frequent reminders, he had forgotten to take his medications and he looked like he was in congestive heart failure. But that never deterred him. Early the next morning, he was ready for another free clinic. He told me it would be nice if he could just spend the rest of his life doing medical missions...just giving his time and effort for free.

"Guru of medical missions", Dr. Manny Sevilla aptly called him. Truly, Ed dedicated his life to his patients and to giving all to the poor. The many medical missions he organized and conducted in the Philippines and around the world will be a lasting legacy.

Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta says: "At the end of our lives, we will not be judged by how many diplomas we have received, how much money we have made or how many great things we have done. We will be judged by 'I was hungry and you gave me to eat. I was naked and you clothed me. I was homeless and you took me in'...

In other words, we will be measured by how much we loved and helped others.

I think Ed does not have to worry about that. Ed and Estela's children - Melissa, Mellany, Paul Edward, and Michelle -- may find solace in the thought that their father, after all his seeking and traveling, will surely find himself in the loving arms of his Heavenly Father. As Charles Dickens wrote in 1859, "it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known".