“My sister’s visa interview in Manila was canceled!” flashed a frantic text message on my iPhone, courtesy of a distressed fictional client from the town of Hurt in Virginia.

Another text followed a few seconds later: “St. Luke’s obtained sputum sample from my sister and husband, test results will be out after two months, can’t reschedule the interview before then!”

I was about to text back when my phone rang.

“That was so frigging frustrating, Attorney!” were the first words muttered by Ms. Farah T. Inisha after I answered the phone. “My sister said about 80 percent of the people at the clinic did not pass the initial TB screening. All had their visa interviews canceled!”

“That’s the norm nowadays,” I said, deadpan, trying to appease the client. “It’s like everyone’s been exposed to TB in the Philippines.”

Before Ms. Inisha could vent further, I went on and explained to her that half of my US-bound clients within the past year had experienced medical screening delays at the SLEC (St. Luke’s Extension Clinic) due to tuberculosis-related issues. All had to reschedule their original interview appointments.

The reasons were manifold, I told her. Most were delayed due to secondary screening requirements. Others had to undergo prophylactic or curative treatments. In some cases, delays were caused by the shortage of TB testing kits, including the so-called IGRA’s (or Interferon-Gamma Release Assays).

“What’s going to happen now, Attorney?” lamented Ms. Inisha bitterly. “What if they run out of visas by the time my sister gets a new interview schedule?”

I was silent for a spell. After years and years of waiting to get to this stage, I knew that the sudden — albeit not totally unexpected — setback was a shock to Ms. Inisha, whose Manila-based sister was applying to immigrate to the US (with her entire family) as an immigrant caregiver.

“Well, I’m optimistic we’re not going to see any more visa retrogression in the next few months, at least not the type that would affect your sister’s case,” I said with as much sanguinity I could muster. “And I’m also hopeful that the US Embassy will set aside enough visas for those impacted by the TB screening delays.”

“Alleluia, may your prophetic words come true, Attorney. And the worst-case scenario?”

I told her that if a visa retrogression would occur before her sister got a new interview appointment, and absent any protective “grandfathering” policy from the US Embassy (which was never a sure thing, anyway, as the consulate was known to change its internal policy on a whim), it was possible that her sister’s visa application would be put on hold until her priority date became current once again. This could take months, or even years, depending on the severity of the retrogression.

“Wow, there’s no way I could tell that to my sister,” Ms. Inisha grumbled. “You see, she’s so bummed out because she and her husband had already passed all those kinds of tests while working in the Middle East, and now…” her voice trailed off.

Our conversation ended with me conveying a lawyerly assurance that everything would be okay. She grudgingly promised to keep me posted regarding her sister’s situation.

After a few months of sporadic text updates that went by like an insipid TB commercial, I received another frantic text message from Ms. Inisha, this time in all caps:

“ATTORNEY, MY SISTER AND FAMILY PASSED THE INTERVIEW THIS MORNING! VISAS TO BE ISSUED IN 2 WEEKS! THANKS FOR ALL YOUR HELP, SIR!”

I guess she won’t be getting annoyed anytime soon.