I need to visit the hospital, as I am feeling unwell this morning. However, I am concerned about how I'll get there since there's no motorcycle available, and the road connecting us to the hospital is in poor condition. After waiting briefly for the sun to rise overhead, I mustered the courage to head out.
As
I arrived at the hospital, I noticed the long queue of patients was about to
finish, and I would be the next patient after the last one. The medical
assistant, Nyandeng, kept looking through the window towards me, making me wonder
what I had done wrong. Finally, I entered the room and found her optimistically
waiting for me.
"Good
morning, dear," she welcomed me warmly, pulling the patient chair near
her. I hastened to explain my condition, trying to remain calm despite the cold
atmosphere. "I'm not fine, doctor," I shivered. "I've been
having sleepless nights due to back pain that radiates towards my genitals. I
need help."
She
looked at me with a reassuring smile, leaned forward, and lowered her voice.
"Don't worry, just wait a bit," she said. She glanced out the window,
where there was no one in sight, then got up and lowered the curtain on the
door with a warning phrase, "This room is out of bounds from now on."
In
a somewhat unexpected turn, she asked, "Do you have a fiancé?" I
replied simply, "No." Then she asked again, "How about a
wife?" I responded, "No." She said, "I see you're missing a
lot. Can I help you?"
As
she began to examine me, her actions seemed unusual. She pushed her way towards
my leg, raising my instincts seriously, but there seemed to be some sense in
her actions. I turned aside my eyes as she rose and walked over behind my
chair, holding my hand. I felt her hands moving across my back, and I silently
screamed, "What are you doing?" She replied calmly, "I'm not
hurting you; I'm just taking your temperature." I was left speechless.
Nyandeng removed her medical coat and threw it on the patient’s bed. She whispered, “You
are warm; this temperature needs some cooling.” Love and kindness cowed
her voice. I felt the room was running amok. She caressed her chest on my
shoulder, letting her baby papaya tenuously wrap me. I shrouded and felt in penance. Darkness covered my eyes; deafened by echoes of emotions, I
relinquished.
“Just
lie straight, and leave everything to me,” she advised. I rolled over on
the bed towards the wall, pretending to be too ill. Breathing rapidly, she
patted my back. “You will be okay.” She assured me. Rolling her scarf off her
arm, “Do not move,” she said. Confused by my feelings, she asked me, “We
are only two; what can we do?”
TO BE CONTINUED.
Writer, Critic, and Teacher
