Where is the emergency?

I got to the clinic, Clinica Corazones Unidos, on Tuesday, March 25th at 8am, prepared and ready to get my brother out of there. In the meeting I asked the doctors all of my questions but I knew they weren’t being straight with me, and none were gastrointestinal specialists, so I knew they were in way over their heads here. However, by the end of the meeting they told me Robert was stable enough, and I got the ok to move Robert by Air Ambulance, which is all I really wanted to hear. Immediately, I left the office and started like a mad man, calling the states, speaking to everyone I could to get my brother the proper care he needed. I had Ashley making phone calls too but the process was difficult, no one would take any action until the money was completely cleared and even then things would move slowly. I guess my thought on this was; where is the emergency? I felt like the entire day I was yelling and trying to explain to these people that my brother will die if they don’t help move him. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack, pacing through the halls of the clinic, constantly dialing anyone I could to help, and chasing the doctors down so they could speak to doctors in the states. Finally, late that night, I got someone in the Cleveland Clinic to admit him and we got an agent on the phone to ok the transfer, but we still needed clearance from the insurance. Easy right? Not at all. There was nothing I could do until morning, and so I spent another night in that hellhole.