In over two months that she stayed at Apollo Hospitals, the staff grew to see and appreciate a never-seen side to Jayalalithaa. She dazzled the nurses, doctors and the hospital administrators alike with her intelligence, wit and consideration for others.
As with every other patient, they would have liked her to go home, but as they got back to work a day later, those who worked with her intensely over the 73 days, seemed to feel a vacuum on the intensely buzzing hospital premises.
‘King Kong’ nurses
Everyone nearly has a tale to tell about their time with Ms. Jayalalithaa, and they don’t need any coaxing to tell it. A team of 16 nurses, working in three eight-hour shifts on rotation took care of her right through, till the end.
Three of them, however, were extra special. “She called these nurses, Sheela C.V., Renuka M.V, and Samundeeswari ‘King Kong’, and would ask for them, keeping track of their duty hours,” explains Sunitha, nursing superintendent at the hospital.
“We were so privileged to work with her. And to think the Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu trusted us and smiled to welcome us every day, that’s another feeling,” says Sr. Sheela. “She was really nice to us, she’d say, ‘You tell me what I have to do and I will do it.’ When she was tired, she would ask us if we could do something a little later, she would not refuse to do anything.”
When physiotherapy was started, she would apparently make a game of knocking little balls around, chucking them at the nurses. “And when we started oral feeds, she would say each spoon she took was for a nurse, mentioning them by name,” Sr. Sunitha chimed in. She would play old Hindi and English songs from a pen drive, and moments of nursing care were filled with songs.
“I cannot forget anything that happened these last 70-odd days,” says Sr. Renuka. “When she could write, she would write down her menu, and seemed to be fond of pongal, upma, curd rice and potatoes. We even had a separate kitchen, where her own cook was brought in sometimes, to make the food.” She would tease them sometimes about the food and invited them to Kodanad for the ‘best tea’. The nurses even got an invite to the Assembly, when she returns to work.
Banter with doctors
This bonhomie spilled over on to doctors, especially female doctors. Medical director at Apollo Hospitals Sathya Bhama shared one such anecdote. “Once she told a doctor that she should change her hairstyle, that it would look better on her. And then, followed it with playful banter: ‘I’m the Chief Minister, I’m ordering you.’
Of other women doctors, she would ask about their families, if it was not getting late for them, wonder how they came to work early, and tell them to take care of their health and skin. Her stay here was filled with such moments.” Despite her circumstances, irrespective of how she was feeling, she would ask her doctors to be seated, though she did demand that they seek her permission before entering.
“She would always ask us why we were doing something to her; how it would help her and if there was any other procedure they could follow,” says Ramesh Venkataraman, one of the critical care specialists who attended to her. “Sometimes, she would tell us to adjust the settings of the ventilator to a particular specification when she was feeling uncomfortable. She followed everything we were doing very intently.”
“I’m the boss”
There is another story that is now legend in the hospital involving the London-based consultant Richard Beale. It is said Dr. Beale gathered together the younger staff who were completely in awe of her in her room one day and advised them in her presence that in the hospital they would call the shots, even if their patient was the Chief Minister. “Though she was unable to speak then, she gestured to Dr. Beale: “No. Here, I’m the boss” with a beaming smile. Everyone burst out laughing then,” recalls Babu K. Abraham, critical care specialist.
These are just a few tales, there are many more. Surely, these are going to be told and retold, again and again, in lunch rooms, wards, sterile corridors and nurses bays for a long, long time to come.
