A Big Ship and Palliative Care...: Clarence and Me

Many times in the past I have come away from the house of a patient with a coconut, some corn or maybe a pineapple as a thank you gift. Each time I am touched by the generosity of those who give out of an already meagre existence. The gift I got on Monday, however, was definitely a first...a live chicken.

We had gone to do a bereavement visit for the family of a patient who died last week. We had only seen this patient 3 times so had not really got to know the family. However the patients son was hugely grateful for all that we had done for his mother in the last few weeks of her life. As we were sitting chatting a very plump, healthy, large chicken walked past at which point I remarked on what a good chicken it was. (Now you have to understand that chickens here come in all shapes and sizes and levels of scrawniness. Many have lost much of their plumage and are left to forage for themselves so are often very tough and skinny. When you see a nice healthy chicken it is a surprise and always worthy of comment!)

As we continued to talk a family member caught the chicken and it was given to the son to have its legs tied together. I began to realise what was coming as soon as a plastic bag was produced. (Many chickens once bought are put in plastic bags for ease of carriage and to stop them from flapping around. It is a pretty common sight on the streets.) The chicken was then duly handed to me, plastic bag and all, with profuse thanks. This was a hugely generous gesture as this chicken could have fed several of the family. I tried to point this out in as polite a way as possible but the family were having none of it. The chicken was coming with us. As I looked into its beady eyes a name popped into my head - Clarence. So Clarence the chicken was named. (Despite the fact that I'm still not sure whether it was a boy or a girl).

As I slid down the muddy hillside with Clarence under my arm I knew that we could not take him back to the ship. There was only one solution - give him to Esther (my translator) to take home and meet his (very delicious) fate. As we bumped our way back to the main road Clarence sat patiently on the floor scowling at me. Esther seemed very excited at the prospect of a good chicken meal (she even bought a special bowl in which to eat him) however part of me thinks, just maybe, that Clarence could have lived a quiet life with me on the ship. Who knows, he may have even enjoyed it.

Clarence entombed in his bag on the floor of the Land Rover