St. Luke’s Medical Center: Where the Only Cure is Your Wallet

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — November 8, 2024

ST. LUKE’S Medical Center is more than just a hospital; it’s a five-star experience in luxury health care—assuming you enjoy paying top peso for the privilege of standing in line. You’ll see the promise of high-end care splashed across its ads, complete with glossy photos of smiling doctors and ultra-modern equipment. But behind that polished exterior? A dazzling display of mismanagement so advanced, it could be mistaken for performance art.

Take, for example, the tuberculosis screenings—a simple enough process, or at least it would be, if it weren’t handled by St. Luke’s. For some inexplicable reason, the clinic manages to “diagnose” Filipinos with TB at rates that make it look like the Philippines has suddenly become the TB capital of the world. False positives? Just a few—98% to be precise. After patients are put through additional costly tests, they usually come out with a clean bill of health, but by then, they’re already reeling from the ordeal. It begs the question: Did they walk in for a visa application or sign up for a reality show?

Consider one poor soul who, after 15 TB-free years in the U.S., returned to the Philippines, only to have St. Luke’s roll out the red carpet and a TB diagnosis. And what followed? A whirlwind of tests, paperwork, and waiting. Another woman missed her dying mother’s final moments thanks to an overzealous TB screening that, in the end, predictably found nothing. It’s as if the clinic has made diagnosing TB its new Olympic sport, and they’re going for the gold.

But TB is just the beginning. At the Bonifacio Global City (BGC) branch, things go full Kafka. Patients who should be recovering peacefully in their own beds are instead forced to stick around for hours—because their doctors have “forgotten” to submit their fees. That’s right. This well-oiled machine can perform complex surgeries but can’t figure out how to collect fees ahead of time. Instead, patients waiting to be discharged are held hostage by a billing department that seems to be operating by way of telegraph.

And if you thought getting out of St. Luke’s was tough, try getting a copy of your medical records. The process is so convoluted it’s practically a rite of passage. Want to retrieve a file? Bring snacks and a lawn chair because you’ll be shuttling between the records department and the parking lot for days. You might even be told, “Your records are ready.” Spoiler alert: they’re not. By the time they actually hand over that piece of paper, you’ve already made friends in the waiting room and scheduled a follow-up visit out of sheer habit.

So how does a top-tier hospital charge a premium for such shoddy service? It’s a mystery. But here we are, with St. Luke’s running a health care circus while patients suffer in the wings. The Department of Health should step in immediately—before the clinic introduces an “Express Waitlist” for a premium fee. Filipino patients deserve more than a hospital that treats them like customers in an airport lounge, waiting and paying for the “privilege” of proper care.