Heart Attack

Kaleem Haquani

7:15 a.m. 2nd of October, 1992: outside the Dignitaries Lounge at Ninoy Aquino International Airport, Manila. The Philippine Airlines flight from San Francisco is due to land and I am here to receive one of my second cousins. I reel back, as if struck in the chest by Arnold Swarzennegger's powerful clenched fist. The grossly over-weight Customs Official, standing next to me, looks up. I manage to gasp 'Officer, I think I am having a heart attack.' Noting my Diplomatic Identity Card, he anxiously enquires 'Are you a heart patient, Sir?' I respond 'I am now!' I observe as if from a great height a chair next to him. 'May I sit down?' 'Certainly Sir.' 'Surely, Officer, there must be Emergency Medical Services available here?' 'Yes Sir. I shall arrange for a wheelchair to take you there.' His Identity Card bears the name of the 1st President of The Philippines, Roxas. 'Thank you, Officer Roxas.'

As I await the wheelchair, I survey the dreary scene around me and inwardly groan 'What an end: indeed not with a bang but a whimper!' One of my horrors during my Articleship days in the late 1950s in the City, was being run over by a Morris Minor and The Evening Standard reporting 'Commonwealth Student run over': if only it were a Silver Cloud!

Roxas returns triumphantly, with a porter pushing a wheelchair. 'Anything else, Sir?' 'Officer, my cousin is on the San Francisco flight. Please tell him what has happened and direct him to me. Also, inform my Chauffeur, driving a maroon Mercedes with ADB Plates. Thank you, Officer.' 'God Bless you, Sir.' A decade earlier, renting the Home Leave House of a French-Vietnamese Businessman, while I searched for an appropriate residence, he advised me, 'Do remember, in The Philippines, after the American Embassy and the Papal Nuncio, the Asian Development Bank (ADB) is revered. Always emphasise the ADB nature of your being. 'The only Catholic Country in Asia, was given its independence in 1946 by the Americans, who saved it for Democracy in 1896,' when The Philippines declared its Independence from 350 years of Spanish Rule. The ADB, the World's largest Regional Development Bank, was established in 1966.

The petite nurse, whose experience could not have stretched much beyond a band-aid, enthusiastically danced her greeting 'What can I do for you, Sir?' I informed her, and she bewailed the inevitable 'Are you a heart patient, Sir?' to which my response was the same as to Roxas, 'I am now.' To put the poor creature out of her misery, I said 'Try and get a Doctor, please. First, get me the ADB.' I asked the Bank's Operator to connect me to my Australian colleague, whose domain also included such emergencies, only to hear his recorded voice 'on Home Leave'. The Nurse redialled the Bank's Operator. I identified myself, stated my predicament and requested the Bank's ambulance to be sent to the Airport. My next call was to my residence. I told the Housekeeper I wanted to speak to my Mother's Night Nurse. I informed her of what had happened and told her on no account was she, the Day Nurse or any of the staff to let my Mother know. I asked her to call two named friends and rang off. As my wife was with my younger son helping him to settle as he started St Andrews University, I had to deal with domestic matters. Still no Doctor at Emergency! As I stretched out on two arm chairs joined together the male assistant took off my shoes and I lay back. Hardly had I closed my eyes, when my cousin appeared. Not the brightest of creatures, he asked what I was doing. 'Having a heart attack' was my reply. 'Can I do something' he enquired. 'Pray. Also give me your prayer beads, as I left mine at home. Which prayer should I say?' Helpful as ever, he replied 'Any prayer you wish to.' So I prayed to the Almighty: 'I have just taken my younger son for Umrah at Mecca, before he goes up to St. Andrews, having done the same with my elder son, three years earlier. I have done my Haj, first alone and then with my wife. Grant me life to see my sons settled, and then to see my grandsons.'

My friend Sadiq arrived. Calm and controlled, as ever, his voice had an edge as the Nurse said the Emergency Doctor had not arrived. He asked if was an Ambulance was available. 'Yes, but it is not air-conditioned. The ADB is sending their air-conditioned one.' Sadiq told her to get the Airport Ambulance. 'Get ready, Kaleem.' 'My shoes!' Sadiq said 'No need: You will be taken on a stretcher.' I insisted to wear my grey Bally Suise shoes, matching my grey trousers and grey Barong, the former Filipino men's wear. Relating this oft-told tale, I would add that I now understood the famed reply of Bettina, as she got out of the car crash in which Prince Aly Khan, the present Agha Khan's father, was killed: 'Where is my hand bag?' Not mercenary, merely meticulous.

In the Ambulance I handed over to Sadiq my wallet, ID, ring and amulet. The Ambulance was horrendously hot. In the Hospital Emergency I was delighted to see my Mother's heart specialist and my Afghan friends Amin and Aasia. The Doctor asked me to repeat in detail what had transpired. I told him Sadiq would tell him, as I was suddenly feeling drained. He insisted I do so. For the first of a thousand times I told him all this. He said 'Listen carefully. You took complete charge of the situation and have been in control up to now. That's the first thing in your favour. Secondly, you are here within 45 minutes of your heart attack. Now relax, we take over.'

All along I knew my prayer had been heard. By God's grace, I am here to tell the tale.