The cultural divide can be met and understood if we allow it

One Sunday as I was doing my usual walk through the A&E department I was stopped by a member of staff who told me a patient had been brought in “suspended” in other words no heart beat. I was told his wife was in the relatives room and she was very distressed and would I mind popping in and seeing if I could do anything.

When I went into the room the woman’s daughter had just arrived. I recognised her as the young woman that worked in the hospital shop. I spent some time with them but it was clear that the patient’s wife was finding my presence upsetting as it just confirmed how sick her husband was. She just kept saying we’ve got to stay positive. I told them to contact me through the staff if they needed anything.

I continued with my usual Sunday visiting and took communion to those patients that wanted it.

Next I wandered into ICU. The patient from A&E was now there and his daughter and wife were in the visitors room. Again I spent some time talking to them. They told me that the patient was a practicing Muslim. They were not and wondered what to do. I said that when I got back to the office I would contact the mosque and leave a message for the Imam.

Before I reached the office I was bleeped by the ward manager who told me that the patient had just died and as he was Muslim they were not sure what to do. I said I’d sort it and not to do anything. I went over to the mosque across the road and managed to get a message to the Imam who came out to me. I explained what had happened and he said he’d come to the hospital. I went back to the ward and explained this then sat with the family. The Imam came and spent a short time chatting to the family, then went and did the death prayers.

The family were obviously distressed. The man was only in his 50’s and had never been sick. His son arrived having got the phone call at work. None of them were Muslim and so were unaware of any rituals and what to do next. I explained some things to them but said that the Imam would come and talk to them as soon as he had finished doing the prayers.

The Imam was someone who had done a placement at the hospital and I had worked with previously. I knew he would explain things to the family well. They were very anxious because they wanted things to be done correctly.

It was a strange situation because the women in the family were used to doing things but the Imam had to speak with the son, who then came in and relayed what had been said to his mum and sister.

I took the daughter and son in to see their dad and say their last farewell. I then walked them to the main entrance and watched as the family walked away. I hoped that they were not going to find the clash of culture too great.