Fire at Mercy Hospital: Encountering an ugly incident about tragic Guyana

May 11, 2010 Features / Columnists, Freddie Kissoon

I was taken back at the announcement of a huge fire at the St. Joseph Mercy Hospital. You are always depressed when you are confronted with the erasure of a piece of valuable history anywhere much less your own country.
Mercy Hospital has left a lot of memories with me. That is where my father died. That is where the man who made my social elevation possible through the financing of my GCE education, Mr. Fred Philips then CEO of the Georgetown Club died.
It was at Mercy Hospital that I used to visit one of my favourite Guyanese, Father Andrew Morrison. I saw him the day before he died, and as I looked at him in his unconscious state, the sense of everything fleeting in this life overtook my faculties. Here on the bed was the man who gave me my journalistic break.
After becoming his columnist and the weeks went by, Father would say to me, “I got another complaint this morning.”
And with a gesticulation that was inimitable, he would follow that up with these words; “Don’t worry, you can’t please everybody.”
It was at St. Joseph Mercy Hospital my daughter was born. Our family doctor works at the hospital.
The fire at Mercy is a personal loss. I hope they rebuild that section that has been lost very quickly. In fact, one can say it was the nerve centre of the hospital that the fire consumed.
This would include the administrative domain where all records are kept. The offices of a majority of doctors were destroyed. Gone would be my orthopedic file because a bone doctor works out of Mercy. A few years back, I did an MRI for a pinched nerve and he has the photographic disc.
I was jogging in the National Park when I saw the smoke, so I took off to look at the site for this column and to see the ruin for myself. While in the compound, I didn’t know I was being bathed with stink trench water.
As I walked in, I saw the fire hoses sprouting water from several leakages. It was a discouraging sign. So there were little fountains all over the Mercy compound.
I didn’t bother to evade them so I just walked through a few of them and got my T-shirt and my hair wet. In fact, I got my jogging trousers wet too because I bent down to press one of the leaks with my finger and the water, with a forceful vengeance, splattered all over my body. I wanted to ascertain the dimension of that particular hole.
How can the fire department operate with all these holes in their hoses? As I was walking out the compound, entering were four fire officials. I lamented the holes in the hoses and the waste of water. One of them turned to me and said; “Freddie that is trench water coming out there.”
I had to make three stops in the shopping centre of the city but straight for home I headed and had an immediate bath.
All this time when I was soaked in the compound of the hospital, I was enveloped in stink water. Funny, though, I only smelt the odour after I changed my track pants in the bathroom.
I encountered an ugly incident at the fire site that symbolises the enmeshed tragedy of this nation.
Talking about fires with a group of policemen who were there to secure the perimeters of the hospital, it was mentioned to me that of all places that you would expect Guyanese to behave themselves was at St, Joseph Mercy Hospital.
But according to these ranks, some of the staff used the inferno to help themselves.
The police ranks told me that in secure sections of the large building, staff went about rummaging through offices stealing valuables. I went to speak to about fifteen of the employees. I put the direct statement of the police ranks to them and they were livid.
They were accusing the police of doing the stealing. They intoned that they were locked out of the estate by the police while the fire raged and therefore their colleagues were not around to commit the acts the police have orally indicted them for.
One male employee contended that the doors of many offices were kicked in and from the damage you could have seen it was done by trained men wearing boots. I went back and forth with the mutual accusations talking to both police officials and employees.
Whatever is the truth, stealing takes place when buildings are on fire. That is Guyana for you!

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Fire at Mercy Hospital: Encountering an ugly incident about tragic Guyana

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