Typical Weekend, Part 3

Sunday, March 15, 2009

We wake up at 7:00 am, drink my coffee, I do my morning exercise, swim a couple laps, and eat mostly fruit and yogurt for break-fast because we have been eating way too much. I read the newspaper and another one of my “Letters to the Editor” is published. I am relentless and comment about everything. I am in the throws of arranging for houses to be built, jobs to be created and health care improved for the very poor community where I grew up in St. Elizabeth.

We depart at 9:30 am for the funeral. On our way, I receive a call from Dr. Ken Jamerson (Michigan State) who wants to get together with us. I have no idea how he reached me on my Jamaican cell number and is very curious. Dr. Jamerson is in town giving a speech. He knows that I am here so asks someone he was talking with if she knew me. She responds yes and makes a call to one of the physicians at HIC and now has my number. Two degrees of separation—it is remarkable. We promise to see him after the funeral.

My friend’s father who we are funeralizing is a genuine Jamaica story about a man who traveled for extended stays around Jamaica and fathering a baby at each stop. Now in death, the children adore him for being a man for all seasons, a tailor, shoemaker, a fixer of appliances, a musician and a genuine poet. He specialized in making entire men’s outfits from the same poka dot material---hat, shirt, jacket, pants AND shoes. Only one word comes to mind seeing someone wearing that outfit: “Lard mi Gad, him Boasi sah!” Obviously if you wanted to be the life of the party, this gentleman would hook it up for you. I guess it is too late to have him put together an outfit for me.

Stephanie and I leave the funeral at 11:30 am and arrive at the function where Ken just finished speaking to a huge physician audience at the Terra Nova Hotel. The Novartis representatives did a great job bringing physicians from all over Jamaica to hear the learned and renowned Dr. Ken Jamerson speak about treating high blood pressure in 2009 discouraging them from prescribing diuretics. When I arrive, I said hello to several familiar faces and make my way through the line of physicians who are waiting to have “a word” with the great Dr. Jamerson. On seeing Stephanie and I, he excuses himself and we hug warmly and I am genuinely delighted to see my old friend. I am flattered that he agrees to change his plans to leave a day later so we could spend some quality time together. Stephanie is actually leaving the island today for the US, so we take our leave for the airport and Stephanie’s 2:15 departure on American Airlines. After I see the love of my life off, I go back to our place, pick up my extra set of golf clubs and head to the hotel to pick up Ken. There is a beauty pageant going on and the lobby is full of Jamaica’s finest.

When we arrive at Caymanas Country Club, Ken said he was impressed with the warm welcome I received from Caddies, employees and members. Without a tee time, we get dressed and head for the first tee. It is a perfect 75 degrees, the birds are singing, the gentle breeze caresses us, the golf course need some water but otherwise is in perfect condition. My caddy hands me my driver, I hit the ball down the middle, hit the second shot on the green and make my par. Ken has challenges including four shots to get out of the bunker even with instructions from his caddy. We agree not to keep score.

In Jamaican terms: “Long time now mi never see yu. Come let wi walk and talk” is the agenda for the day. We make our way around the golf course catching up, solving all the problems of Jamaica and the world. Ken is really a man of the world who knows history. In other words, he is excellent company. We are on the same wave length. He is surprised that he could walk the five miles around the course and not get tired. I tell him that at 66 years old, I usually walk two rounds on the same day.

When we arrive at the 19th Hole (the restaurant) and join six other friends and they offer to buy us drinks and welcome him in grand style. We enjoy a special snack made with salt fish and onions. It is delicious and we have a jolly time. When they discover that Ken is the authority on hypertension, they all get their questions answered but in particular, Ossie is concerned that his doctor is treating him for low blood pressure because he has orthostatic hypotension and faints occasionally. He is relieved to hear that he should just learn to stand up slowly and that his low blood pressure should not concern him in the absence of a medical condition causing it.

Our next stop is to give Ken a tour of the HIC facilities where I work. He points out that an echo cost $1,600 in Michigan. Our cost is consistently about 25% of what it cost for similar procedures in the United States. I explain our philosophy of not turning away anyone even though they cannot afford to pay, develop health tourism as well as keep money in Jamaica by providing the medical care here rather than have Jamaicans spend these large sums over seas. Dr. Ernest Madu is a wonderful humanitarian who is the visionary behind this centre.

We go back to the Jamaica Hilton where Ken is staying and have dinner by the pool and listen to the fabulous “Dwight Pinkey Band” and the lady sings the blues and everything else. They are very good. I request that they sing “She is Royal” and they oblige. I recommend that Ken purchase the CD for his wife when he gets to the airport. Stephanie is always delighted when I sing this song to her.

I say good night to Ken and arrive home at 10:00 pm. I call my wife to make sure she arrived safely, assure her of my love for her and then write these notes. When I am away from Jamaica, wata come a mi eye.