“The best thing is that they wait at home, the treatment can take up to 24 hours.” Juanma had just entered the Insular de Gran Canaria Hospital with her mother, Lala. Minutes ago, this 19 September 2022His uncle Francisco had done it, and he was transferred by ambulance. The pain was so strong that it prevented him from walking. I needed morphine. “We decided to take him because they were going to put something in the ambulance,” says his nephew, Juan Manuel.
“There were some patches and medication, but every 15 days he had to go to put it on, the pain was so great,” she recalls. for five years Francisco was battling cancer. “Chemotherapy, radiation… it had no effect. It didn’t work. My uncle Paco was in a terminal stage, he had metastases.“.
Paco came to the hospital confused and in great pain. with severe cognitive impairment. “The cancer started in the trachea, but it had already spread and reached the head,” his niece complains. The medical staff said, “You cannot be here with the Covid protocol, go home.” His family declared that he “cannot be alone”. The staff insisted that “even if they have a double A medical card (Help and Support for more vulnerable patients) they cannot stay here”. They checked to see if their contact number was correct: “We gave them my and my mom’s numbers,” Juanma recalls. “They said they would call the phone numbers they wrote as soon as the treatment was over.“Juuma and his mother are gone.
Francisco Macías, 57, disappeared hours later. After injecting morphine, they were discharged and banned from being in the center. His family said security guards told him he couldn’t be there “up to four times”. “They say you say inconsistent things.” Hasn’t happened since then. They never saw Paco again.
“Please get out of the hospital”
“We left the hospital,” Juanma recalls. “I called from home about 9:00 PM. It was already nightfall and they told me. Don’t worry, I was in treatment and yes, they were going to call me when it was over. I remained calm, but my mother—Francisco’s sister—didn’t. Around 22:50 pm knowing nothing, Call the hospital again. When contacted, they say that they have already discharged him, my uncle is leaving.“.
“They told me the doctor thought it was appropriate to be discharged.”
Chaos, fear and pain came. for this order. “I remember my mom calling me crying, nervous: not in the hospital!” Juanma ran away. “There’s a highway nearby, he was walking in a confused state… His illness had affected his head…” – he could hardly remember anything, he was often unable to coordinate, especially when he was in severe pain – “We thought a car might catch him and something might happen to him.“. On the way to Insular Hospital, I thought, “I remember it was raining, it was cold”, maybe I’ll find it at the door – I hoped -. It didn’t happen. His uncle wasn’t there.
“The security guard said to me, ‘This is my job, they told me he had to leave Insular… We told him to leave the headquarters, we got him out of the hospital’.
As soon as Juanma entered, she called out to the hospital staff: How did they do that? “They answered me: The doctor saw fit to discharge him.“No more. The shock started. His nephew was looking at the room, Paco was out of the hospital, he wasn’t there. Why did they call us?”
Security personnel arrived. And Juanma spoke to them. “Look, it’s true, he told me, ‘He was discharged and wanted to go back to the hospital. He tried four or five times. He said meaningless things to us, his glasses were inside’, he had no vision deficiency-, he had left the card’…”. Paco didn’t want to leave. “The security guard said to me, ‘This is my job, they told me he had to leave Insular and… we told him to leave headquarters, we got him out of the hospital.’
direction to the pier
Francisco began to walk aimlessly. Alone and confused. “The security guard told me that my uncle’s He was walking towards the beach, to the fishing district of San Cristóbal.Juanma walked there without hesitation. My uncle was a person with terminal cancer, get it. If he goes to the pier… he really does.”
“The Forensic Police examined the hospital cameras and it’s true: my uncle tried to break into the hospital about five times”
One street, another and another. Pako wasn’t there. there was no trace of him. All night his family swept the island. “Those hours were so important, we needed to find him,” his nephew says. That night followed in the morning, the next afternoon, and many more nights. “I remember my mother had a picture of it taken the day she disappeared. I told her to send it to me on WhatsApp while I was calling. I made some posters in a store, printed them and pasted them all over the area.“As Juanma wandered the streets without rest, her mother filed a complaint with the National Police.
“The courthouse reviewed the security cameras and it’s true, my uncle tried to break into the hospital 5 times. they checked phone calls, and they were able to verify this as they found the conversations they had with us We had agreed that they would not discharge him until they let us know, and we went for him.“.
Juanma, her mother, and Paco’s other siblings, the entire family, continued to scan the area “day after day, night after night, morning, afternoon …”. There was nothing. Without a trace. “I reserved fifteen days for my holidays, it wasn’t enough, I wanted more. I lost my job…”, He feels sorry for Juanma. “Ours is the town hall of San Bartolomé de Tirajana, put a bus for people from the town to raid around Las Palmas. There were a lot of people, my uncle was loved but we were out of luck.”
Squats, hutches
Without documents, without phones, without personal belongings, the evidence was reduced to zero.. Hope gave way to despair: They’re looking for Francisco Macías Reyes. You need medicine. The posters sparked some calls. “There were people who said to me ‘your uncle is in such a place’… We went but he wasn’t there.”
They surveyed the streets, the mountains, the sea. “The last thing you have about Paco is that he walks to the dock, but every sailor knows the sea always gives back what is needed…”, complains Juanma. Without rest, they wandered the island from north to south, from east to west. “Called from the north, they saw him and they gave him a sandwich. I went, I saw there were cameras, if we could see the videos, I said there wasn’t.”
The search continued unabated and unrestrained: “empty houses, towns, slums, slums, marginal areas, soup kitchens… cancer had consumed him, many thought he was a drug addict, but did not consume. Although we searched every corner… They said he slept in an ATM once, and that wasn’t it either. One person told us that he has a car. We went but no. The truth is, I’m amazed that a person with a disease, terminal cancer, morphine patches, who needs to be taken to the hospital every 15 days, is walking around and no one sees him. But there were other difficult things as well, and we will not stop looking, we must believe in the positive”.
quiet life
In Romeral (San Bartolomé de Tirajana), Paco ‘el canelillo’, the son of ‘El Canelo’, who is known by his name “because it is cinnamon and dark”, lived a quiet life. Familiar, united with himself, tirelessly seeking.
Gentle, affectionate. “He was a baker and when my grandmother got sick he left her with him.” Fun, supportive and always aware of everyone. “My grandmother, her mother passed away and fell ill shortly afterwards.” Canelillo lived with another brother, Abraham. Although they all live a few meters away. His biggest hobby was listening to rock music at home and with his family. Calm life. Walking, sitting on a bench and smoking a pipe. Everyone in town said, “Juanma, what do you know?” he asks. “I wish I could answer,” groaned his nephew. Paco, ‘el canelillo’… we don’t know yet.