I am reading My Brother by Jamaica Kincaid published by The Noonday Press in 1997. Of the first 70 pages of the book the most thought provoking was definitely in the 20’s when Jamaica first visits her brother. I get the most insight into Jamaica's own mind and the norms associated with Antigua.
Précis:
My brother and I were very distant through the entirety of our lives, in more ways than one; I lived in another country and our age difference was greater than ten years which was to blame for us never really knowing each other. I felt utter sympathy when I sat to comfort him as he lay in the hospital bed. Though I never knew him well he told me he loved me and I returned the sign of affection in complete truth. The setting of the hospital was eerie and uncomfortable, no place to care for people so ill. He was dying of AIDS, a disease no one wanted to hear about in Antigua. It was taboo and people who had it seemed to be distanced from the rest. As I left the depressing hospital, I drive down the roads of Antigua constantly being reminded of him.
“In that dirty room, other people before him had died of that same disease” (23). Having this strict organization where one is in the same room as others who have died of the disease make the stay for the sick from the perspective of the doctor more impersonal. Being another patient the sick lose their individualism. A problem with hospital care that the only alternative that would address it would be home hospice.
“These medicines common in the treatment of AIDS-related illnesses are not kept in the hospital; people who are not infected with the virus that cause AIDS do get an extreme case of thrush, do not get a terrible kind of pneumonia, and so the medicines that would treat these afflictions are not on hand at the hospital.” (34). Rather than supporting the needs of all, the hospitals take a very utilitarian perspective, address only symptoms that are apparent many time in many different scenarios. A questionable stance when Antigua has a striking AIDS population.
“None of his friends came into the room to visit him. They would stand in the doorway of his room and say something to him. They never came in” (42). This stance of distancing one’s self from the ill seems to come up in many different cultures. I think it is not that people are worried that they will catch the illness, rather they see someone they once loved looking almost disfigured from their illness. This physical distance is to protect the viewers own emotions because the reoccurring thought of your friend in such a state can be traumatic, which is why one would not become so close and personal with the ill one.
I think my own behavior can be reflected by certain individuals in the book. That I would want to be close to the one who is ill, it can be traumatizing but there is an obligation I feel to comfort the loved one in their greatest time of need, even if you can’t give them what they need most. I also think that hospitals should adhere to all those who are sick, of course a lack of resources are a factor but with so many dying of this epidemic, having treatment for AIDS is a must-have. The room that her brother was treated in was sad, the cleanliness is unforgivable especially with someone who has such trouble breathing. It is easy to have such a stance as I do on hospital care but no perspective can address every need and solve every problem. The treatment of the ill will always be tricky as long as we are all mortal.
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