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Heart Attack

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     On July 23, 1993, I suffered a myocardial infarction. Nasty heart attack while I was doing sit-ups. I was sick and vomiting for about an hour and decided I needed to see a doctor. Mr. Ali ran across the street to the Post Graduate Dental Surgery office. The dentist called the Gulshan Clinic which just happened to have the only cardiologist in the country right then. There was one other, but he was at a conference. We decided that I wouldn't survive in a public hospital, so off we went to Gulshan - in a pedicab.

Click on a thumb to see a larger version.

Cab to Clinic
We walked around the corner to Kamal Ataturk Avenue and hailed this pedicab to take us the 2 miles to Gulshan. Ali had my camera and took these pictures. He kept it so that I didn't get to shoot the rest of the adventure. The cabbie got lost and took us into a police barracks where they pointed guns at us.
Intensive Care
I spent 3 days in intensive care and then went home to recuperate for another week. What I did was write the instruction manuals and correct some programming problems.
Nurse Hara
I had excellent, around the clock, nursing care. This was Nurse Hara. Her husband was a captain in the national defense force. She said that she had trained in Bulgaria.
Nurse Hara 2
Hara's children went to school nearby and came to visit in the afternoons. All in all, this was better than my time in western hospitals, even if it wasn't high tech.
The Retreival Crew
On the 4th day, TWX sent a car to pick me up. Dr. Zaman and his crew had saved my life by smuggling streptokinase (spelling?) into the country. US won't license a Bangla company to manufacture it so the government bans it. The whole thing, including post-care cost me $900 - in cash - in dollars.
All of these pictures were taken by Mr. Ali. I had to buy him his own camera in order to get him to give up mine. He was convinced that he could become a famous photographer.
"Remember, GOR loves you and wants you to be happy."