Sunday April 5, 2020
Susan McKinney had experienced the deaths of patients before. Even people close to her. And she knew the comfort and closure that a funeral had on those left behind. It was something she encouraged. Of course, if there was no body, she would always suggest a memorial of some kind. Sometimes neither was possible or even wanted, and she dealt with that.
The first death and funeral after the island reconnected with the rest of the world was Bill Meyers, co-owner of the Olin. No one even knew that he had returned to look over his property, until he was found dead outside of Room 4. It was soon revealed that he had the novel coronavirus Covid-19.
As the island was closed, no one attended his funeral. He was buried in the way of Alexandra since it had vanished and a headstone would be provided for him.
He turned out to be Alexandra’s Patient Zero of the Covid-19 pandemic. And arguably the first victim of the Olin in 2020.
After that death came the death of Giovanni Bittetto. Susan knew as soon as he tested positive that he was not likely to survive it. But she kept a positive attitude because that was ultimately the kind of person that she was. She placed him in the clinic’s ICU ward, which was a lone room on the top floor, literally next to her small apartment. Getting him a laptop, she made sure that he knew how and was able to talk to anyone he wanted to using whatever technology was available.
Giovanni spoke to his family in Vancouver and Toronto as well as Vincent DiAntoni, who the older man thought of as family, even if there was no biological connection. But Susan also knew that Giovanni spoke to his attorney, because he told her he had.
“An old man has to keep his affairs in order at all times.” he told her, his spirits high.
But in the end, Covid-19 took its toll on Giovanni. The last person he spoke to was Vincent and, although he kept it as upbeat as possible, he, Vincent and Susan all knew that the old man was dying.
Giovanni Bittetto died in the early morning hours of April 3, 2020. Susan and Colleen moved him into the clinic’s basement and the small morgue, where they prepared the body for autopsy.
Calling the family was difficult for Susan. It wasn’t because she was inexperienced with telling family about a loved one's death, but because in this death in particular, there were special circumstances.
Vincent did not cry as they spoke, although Susan suspected that he would with his fiance Fiona Reinhardt. He was understanding, but upset at the news that while Giovanni would be buried, there would be no funeral. Groups of more than 10 were forbidden now in Alexandra, for fear of spreading the virus. Susan suggested that, when the pandemic was over, that Vincent hold a memorial for Giovanni, which the young man agreed to. Then he ended the call, stating that he had to call Giovanni’s family in Vancouver, who would notify family in Toronto.
Once the autopsy was conducted and the body prepared for burial, Susan decided at the last minute that she would attend the burial the morning of April 5th. In attendance with her were Mint Portia, who along with being the towns architect, also constructed the concrete coffins that had become a staple in Alexandra as concrete was plentiful and could work the machinery needed to prepare the gravesite. Also in attendance was Adum Brate, who had known and liked Giovanni Bittetto, but as mayor he felt it his duty to see a member of his town into the ground, especially if no one else could. He had argued on behalf of Vincent for his attendance, but Susan overruled him, as Vincent was just recovering from his own bout of Covid-19.
But Adum made arrangements to ‘live stream’ the service for Vincent and that touched Susan and gave her hope that perhaps this could be done for others should it become necessary. So far the only people to test positive for Covid-19 were young and strong and able to recover at home in isolation.
After the short service, at which all of them were able to speak kindly of Giovanni, including Vincent from his apartment, although he broke down twice while saying his goodbyes. Then the casket was lowered and Susan and Adum went their separate ways, so that Mint could bury the sweet old man.
Susan had left her apartment by the hospital door, but returned by way of the back of the building. Her head was so full of thoughts and memories of Giovanni, she ran into the crates that were nearly blocking the back entrance of the clinic. She exclaimed in pain as her foot connected with one of the crates, which she quickly found out very heavy. Taped to the top of the crate was an envelope with her name on it. Curious, she opened it and read the short letter within.
Dear Dr McKinney,
You and I have never met, but I know about you from talking to my great uncle Giovanni and my adopted nephew Vincent DiAntoni. They have both told me how invaluable you have been to Alexandra in the time that they have known you, but especially in the time that my Great Uncle Giovanni has been ill.
I do not know if this information will help you, but when Giovanni left us, he was not showing any symptoms of Covid-19 and since he has left us, no one in this household has come down with any symptoms. Perhaps that can help you narrow down here he contracted this coronavirus.
Now I am sure you are wondering about the crate this note was attached to and the one that is with it. Giovanni spoke to me shortly after he was admitted to your clinic about you and how he was treated. He asked me to bequeath these things to you, as it is probable you will need it and, being such a small clinic on such a small island, you may well be completely overlooked if things get worse for Canada.
You treated him with dignity and respect not often shown to the elderly in this day and age.
In the crates you will find 500 N95 masks, 500 pairs of surgical gloves, 100 gowns, medication, multivitamins and a ventilator. The multi-vitamins are for you and your staff especially, as I know that you are a lone doctor with a lone nurse and a lone lab technician. Keep healthy. Alexandra needs you all.
Thank you for taking care of my loved ones Giovanni and Vincent. With luck we shall meet in person in October at the wedding.
Vincent Bittetto
Susan read the missive twice; the second time with tears in her eyes. Looking around, she didn’t see any strange cars or boats down by the water, but she also didn’t know how long the crates had been on the clinic porch.
“Thank you, Giovanni…” she whispered, and then wiped her eyes before she entered the clinic and made some phone calls to help her get the heavy crates inside and unpacked.
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