So back to the story, I left off last time with George, Christopher, Sanjeev, the taxi driver (I never did find out his name) and me in the weirdest photo shoot I'd ever been involved in. George lying on the trolley looking for all the world like he was about to snore, me totally bemused, everyone else looking as though this was the most normal thing in the world.
Once the last photo was taken a man in theatre scrubs appeared and whisked George away. Christopher then informed us that as George was to be moved to a private hospital to await his flight home we had to go shopping for various items while they performed the PM. Duty free was definitely off the list, what was required were:
1) Two dhoti 2) One Indian towel (aka big tea towel) 3) Talcum powder
So... back to the car with Praveen, Blanche and Sarah and off we set. Eventually we found the right store and Praveen and I went in search of dhotis, Sarah and Blanche staying in the car. What's a dhoti? it’s a long piece of material worn by male Hindus, tied around the waist and extending to cover most of the legs. i.e think sarong and you'll get the picture. The dhotis had to be "...right" Praveen explained. I had no idea what this meant but after he had spoken to the sales assistant a vast range was produced for our approval. As fast as I looked at one another three appeared until the counter was covered, and I still had no idea what "...right" meant. In the end I decided to go for linen, cream coloured with a red and gold ribbon edge. Praveen looked, felt the material then nodded we also managed to pick up the talc there too. Unfortunately the Indian towel was "...wrong" so we went in search of another shop.
After a 20 minute drive past rows and rows of shops selling "tea towels" Praveen pulled up outside a small shop which was obviously closed, he hopped out of the car and spoke to the owner of the shop next door who then went off up the road to fetch the gentleman concerned. 10 mins later he appeared opened his emporium, disappeared out the back and finally appeared with (ta dah!!!!) exactly the same Indian towel (tea towel) as we had seen in the first shop 30 mins ago. Praveen beamed, apparently this was the "...right" tea towel and so we could go back to the mortuary.
Once there and after handing over the shopping it was decided we should split up to cover more ground, Praveen, Blanche and Sarah heading off in search of one set of papers while I would go with George to the Private hospital and then with Christopher, Sanjeev and Assistant Deputy Sub Inspector Kumar to clear a way through another set of papers. (Don't ask which ones there were loads of them).
So once the women had left we set about waiting, I knew this was going to take time, everything does in India, I was wrong. Just ten mins after they had gone we were called through to a bay in an open courtyard just behind the mortuary. Two minutes later George was wheeled out of a side door looking for all the world like he was auditioning for the third innkeeper in a nativity play. It was a "laugh or cry moment," I think I did both. Praveen was right, they were the"...right" dhotis and towel.
Meanwhile, the mortuary ambulance arrived and reversed into the bay ready to take George onto the next hospital. If you have never seen one up close Mortuary ambulances are basically transit vans, the only piece of equipment which needs to work, other than the van itself obviously, is the stretcher. Anyone want to guess which bit of George's ambulance was faulty? Basically it too six of us to transfer George into the ambulance, four to lift George and two to hold the stretcher together. The only one of us who wasn't hot red and sweating by the time we had moved him was George, a process we repeated at the other hospital on arrival.
By this time we had managed to acquire another 4 police officers, including the station chief, I'm not quite sure what they were doing but we didn't have to worry about parking and we still had much to do, more papers to fill in so when everyone filed off into the hospital I thought we were heading to see the chief administrator, especially as the police chief was leading the fray. Through long corridor after corridor, turning left and right through FMRI waiting rooms, Consulting rooms, endoscopy suites until we reached our goal.
The Canteen.
Apparently its one of the best restaurants in Trivandrum, subsidised, very clean, good food and I was paying. Now I understood why we needed all the police with us.
After lunch, and yes it was as good as they said, most of the police left us as we journeyed back to the mortuary to pick up the post mortem report. only to be told the report had already gone to the Dean of Pathology and Forensic Medicine to sign off, so off we trundled to the Medical School. Here we were told to come back tomorrow as the typists had all gone home.
So we decided to call it a day and headed home... or rather to a tea shop 15 mins from home as it was now 4pm and EVERYTHING stops for chai.
The following day was "difficult".
The next morning we all headed off to the Dean of Pathology and Forensic Medicine's office to collect the report. Blanche, Sanjeev, Praveen, Christopher, Sarah and me in a people carrier. Once there and formalities were observed blanche was handed the report and she gave it to me to read.
The PM basically said George's heart wasn't in good condition and his coronary arteries were furred up, it looked like he had collapsed and drowned.
On the way back we spoke about George being George, his lifestyle, and attitude to life. how in the end he had died on a beach in a place he loved having a great time. Blanche said "...he took little exercise, smoked too much, was overweight but wouldn't be told, he was George". I agreed with all she said except for the 'overweight' comment, I pointed out that I had seen his post mortem report and he was in fact "well nourished", as for the other stuff it was part of who he was and we loved him for just the same...
Sarah and Blanche spent the next 3 days toing and frowing between various government offices and undertakers chasing papers and stamps. To get the final paper one of the lads had to break into the undertakers to get the final certificate as he had gone home and Blanche and George were due to fly that night.
Against all the odds and with a lot of help from friends George and Blanche flew home less than 5 days after that terrible phone call on the beach.
George had two services, one at home in Northern Ireland on Christmas Eve, with family friends and workmates and one here in Kovalam when Blanche returned to scatter some of his ashes in the very spot he died, surrounded by those who were with him in his last moments and worked so hard to get him home for Christmas.
So now you know...
Normal Blogs will resume in 2016
Merry Xmas and a Peaceful New Year
Kevin
x
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