Sunday, 15 August 2010
Holy Spirit Hospital
For a person who is pretty sqeamish about blood - and who still has haunting memories of childhood cholera shots at carbolic-smelling-dim-tube-light-lit municipal dispensaries - I have seen quite a few hospitals over the last 2 decades.
Yesterday Sheba and I had a pleasant surprise. We went to visit an old friend of ours who is admitted at the Holy Spirit Hospital. Since coming back to Mumbai-land just under a decade ago I heard pf the hospital a number of times and was often a stone's throw away at the venerable Atma Darshan retreat centre, but we had never ventured into Holy Spirit Hospital itself.
What an eye-opener awaited us. When you pass through the gate you live the hodge-podge that is Mumbai behind. You are in a large spotlessly-clean campus. Green grass. Trees. Well-lit and immaculate interiors. Clear signage. Acres of rooms with OPDs for every possible set of medical needs (including a homeopathy opd). A lovely roof-top cafeteria.
This is what a hospital should look like. You can see that it is well-used, but not over-crowded - that it has high standards, but is not looking to impress by dolling itself up like a 5-star hotel. The 300 bedded place marries the spartan efficiency of a well run Catholic institution with the living touch of a well-equipped and staffed modern hospital. For Mumbai standards an extra bonus is that each room looks out onto something green. Quite unusual in our urban jungle.
As I was talking with our friend, Sheba and our friends wife were meeting with a doctor. Our friend felt tired so I prayed with him. During the prayer a lady came delivering coffee to all the inpatients. We split the cup she brought for my friend. Seeing me praying, she also asked for prayer.
"My name is Monica." She said. "Its a beautiful name. I have much torture at home. Please pray for me."
I did. Standing in the middle of the ward with this dear lady who serves morning coffee.
Later the others in the room asked for prayer too. One man had been suffering constant hiccups. His hiccuping stopped during the time I was with my friend - but he was still weak and wanted prayer. At another bed the patient had gone out - but his daughter who is kidney patient and regularly comes for dialysis wanted prayer too.
A hospital is a strange place. You want to be better - but you also want to leave as soon as you can. The great freedom that we have to walk in and out when we are 'just visiting' is in total contrast to those who are admitted - and to those who care for them.
How long, how expensive, what next are clouds that hover darker than the monsoonal down-pours of this season.
We were blessed to experience the Holy Spirit in a hospital which is named after He who proceeds from the Father and the Son.
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