Mortuary at St Luke's

It is with some reluctance that I reply to Professor Cilia Vincenti (The Sunday Times, July 11) lest I lend dignity to his remarks. However, he makes some telling statements that beg for a response.

In my first letter, I stated that there were at least 15 bodies of deceased persons at the St Luke's Hospital mortuary when my family arrived to collect my father's remains. It was my perception then that there were many more than 15 (one does not count such things), but I was reluctant to state a higher number for fear of appearing to exaggerate. Professor Cilia Vincenti says there were 33. I stand corrected.

It is quite a statement for Professor Cilia Vincenti to make when he remarks that "the overall structure and dimensions of our mortuary have not changed since the hospital was built." The hospital was built in the 1930s. No significant changes to its mortuary appear to have been made since then.

When St Luke's was built, Malta's population was about 240,000, significantly smaller than the estimated 400,000 at the end of 2003. It is pertinent to consider that at that time (the 1930s) most people died at home. Funeral traditions being what they are in Malta, funeral rites would commence at the deceased's residence, thereby precluding the use of the hospital's mortuary. Consequently, there was less need for the hospital's mortuary when it was built than there is today.

It should be quite obvious, especially to a learned man like Professor Cilia Vincenti, that, in size alone, the mortuary is at best inadequate given the increase in population (and the corresponding increase in the number of deaths) and the fact that nowadays more people spend their final days in the hospital.

Professor Cilia Vincenti's statement that St Luke's Hospital mortuary has "actually been much improved these last few years" fairly glows with pride but provides little comfort. If the current state of affairs is what he considers "much improved", one has to wonder what conditions must have been like before these so-called improvements were put in place.

The recently installed air-conditioning may have marginally improved things. But to state that "curtains now separate the mortuary into body-viewing compartments to provide some privacy for relatives" is surely a cruel joke. What Professor Cilia Vincenti considers to be curtains are woefully inadequate, and they are totally useless if they are kept open by the mortuary staff.

There was no mistake on my part, as Professor Cilia Vincenti claims, that I mistook the "number of wooden tops purposely made by the hospital carpenter" for a door commandeered for the purpose. At my age, I believe that I can tell the difference. Nevertheless, is this is the best that the hospital carpenter can provide? In many cases, perception is reality. What looks like a door is a door, especially to an emotionally distraught bereaved person visiting that morbid location.

Professor Cilia Vincenti's statement that "the lack of formalised visiting hours, permitting the bereaved to view their deceased relatives at all sorts of hours of the working day, creates difficulties for the mortuary staff" presents the reader with a problem. What visiting hours? For the most part, funerals in Malta take place the day after the deceased passes away. It is my impression that most people who visit the mortuary are there specifically to collect the remains of their loved ones as the first step in providing them with a dignified burial.

Given the sorry state of the mortuary, it was no surprise to me to see several clergymen hurrying as fast as possible to perform their duties while in the facility. Who would want to repeatedly visit such a clearly repulsive location? It is a shame that these clergymen are compelled to make repeated visits to that miserable place in the performance of their duty to their parishioners.

When I wrote my original letter, I was unsure of what would ensue. Would there be a response? What kind of response would it be, a contrite admission, some sort of mea culpa from St Luke's Hospital administration?

Professor Cilia Vincenti's response provides none of that. At no point does the doctor come even close to tendering an apology. His response is both condescending and patronising. Where is the compassion? Where is the dignity? The Professor actually seems to be proud of the facility. He has little to be proud of. When it comes to providing a dignified atmosphere for one of life's tragic moments, the mortuary at St Luke's is a dismal failure that borders on the primitive. The bodies of deceased persons entrusted to the hospital's care, and the emotions of their bereaved relatives deserve to be treated with the utmost dignity and compassion.

I invite the doctor and the administration at St Luke's Hospital to ponder the following. No one lives forever. Most people living in Malta are just a heartbeat away from being clients of the mortuary Professor Cilia Vincenti appear to be so proud of. Allow me to yet again pose the question that I posed in my first letter. Is this how you would treat the remains of your loved ones, and is this how you wish your remains to be treated when your time comes?

No reply is necessary. Professor Cilia Vincenti made his feelings quite clear in his response.