The following year she got to the hospital for her clinical rotations. She stood waiting for the lift to transport her to the orthopaedics ward. No sooner had the peculiar hospital air filled her lungs than she remembered J. P. Immediately, the lift hit the ground and beeped to open.

She stood at the farthest end of the fully packed lift in deep thoughts (a penny for each would fill her pockets big time). She promptly made the decision to surpass the ortho floor and head to the private wing. To check on J. P.

In the previous year, her first year in nursing school, they visited the renown public hospital for their clinical rotations. That’s when she learnt that though a public hospital, it’s last 2 floors are private wards, the private wing. The last floor was where she had among her very first rotations.

Oh how confused she was day one in the private wing. Here patients were to be treated with utmost care (of course all patients are to be treated with utmost care but this is utmost utmost utmost care ~ my English teacher would have exopthalmos at the sight or sound of this 😂).

After orientation things were a bit better. However, the fact that they were super warned on making any mistakes with the patients kept her on edge.

With her group, they went about their duties of the day. From the nursing station, they headed west and made a left turn. To the right was their first room. Into the room, they said hello to the patients and introduced themselves after which pin drop silence was the order of the day.

They divided themselves and took the morning history of the patients. After which the patients were cleaned and their dirty linen changed, morning drugs administered, breakfast given and patients left comfortable.

The students then sat and went through each of their patient’s files. This so as to familiarise themselves with their conditions. This was the point at which J. P was mentioned by the student that had his file. They all tool keen interest at his case.

Later that afternoon as the medications were being administered, her group members acquainted themselves with J. P. They conversed to deep lengths and even laughed together. As much as she would have loved to take part in the same, her personality restrained her. So she watched from a distance.

In the evening they prepared to exit and head to their hostels. There they had a chit chat of how their day 1 experience was in the private wing. J. P came up.

J. P (his nickname) just like them was a university student. One whose studies had rudely been interrupted 2 years ago due to an incident that left him bedridden at the hospital for that period of time.

The next day they walked into the ward ready to nurse their patients. Her group members all went and said hi to J. P but she could not. She just watched. Watched in sadness for him. Sad at how his life had been messed up. Awed at how he had the strength to be as happy as he was. How he managed to be so jovial she understood not!

J. P studied at one of the country’s universities pursuing a degree in computer science. At the time of the unpropitious incident he was in 3rd year. A young vibrant guy, in his early twenties, awaiting to finish his degree, be charged with the power to study (whatever this means) before being spewed out into the real and gruelsome world.

Day 3 things were as usual, all said hi except her. She just looked at him and her heart bled. Why God? Whhyyyyy? She internally wept for his sake and took him to prayer. That he may heal and finally walk out of his hell hole that had lasted over 2 years.

On the fateful day that saw his life take an uninvited U-turn, he was heading home. It was pretty late in the night but the poor guy had to get home from school. He met the night dwellers and Kings. The rulers of the Dark Kingdom with their signs of authority (guns among others) .

That afternoon she sat and went through his file. He had a dozen files over the years. To understand his case she had to find the initial one which contained his history. The current ones only had the history of the treatments he undergone overtime. She got the file and immersed herself in the story of J. P’s life.

The rulers of the Dark Kingdom shamelessly asked for all he had on him. Being a computer scientist in the making, he could not bring himself to handover his laptop. His stubbornness led to a cascade of events that led J. P to his current condition. He was shot through the neck.

Ventrodorsally, the bullet traveled and left his body. It hit his spinal cord. After a series of surgeries and a stay in the ICU for almost a year, the unfortunate shot rendered him paraplegic. To make things worse, he had a laryngectomy.

Day 4. She received him from theater where he had gone for skin grafting ( following his prolonged stay in the hospital in conjuction with his paraplegia and malnutrition below body weight, J.P had developed stage 4 decubitus ulcers on all at risk bony areas you could think of ).

J. P was emaciated, he was painful to look at. However, the nurses said he was waaaay better compared to how he used to be. At some point they thought they were losing him but they thank God for how far he had brought him. He was out of the gutters. She wept for his sake.

“Why did you not just give them the laptop?” She asked confused and saddened.

To listen to his response, she had to lean in. “My laptop had my very important documents hence I just could not give it away without a fight.” Him speaking ( whispering ) was all thanks to a tracheal oesophageal puncture (TEP).

She had more pressing questions but she did not want to tire him so she stopped at that. Suction done. Stomach full. With his pressure ulcer points taken care of and him comfortable in his ripple mattress, she left to let him rest.

Day 5. Last day at the private wing. No sooner had she seen him than she regretfully remembered she was to come with a nail cutter. The previous day she had noted that his fingernails were long and dirty. She was to ask him whether she could come with a nail cutter to trim them but the words could not leave her voice box.

Saying goodbye to him was tough. They bid their goodbyes to the nurses and everyone else but she failed to bid J. P goodbye. She could not do it. She new this was not it. Not just yet.

She completed her first year and headed home for her holiday. Once in a while J. P would pop up in her head. All she could do was hope and pray that he recovers.

The last school Sabbath of December before Christmas, she attended the service at her school. She had plans to pay a visit to J.P. She made him an art with his name calligraphed on it surrounded with messages of hope and best wishes.

After the service they all were paying a visit to their fellow student that was admitted at the hospital. After their colleague, she asked a few friends of hers to accompany her to pay a visit to J. P. This they did. J. P was with his sister at the moment. They introduced themselves after which they read encouraging Bible verses to him and prayed with them before leaving.

On the way out she mentioned to her friends the art she had made for him. And noted that she was afraid to give it to him. They made her turn back and give him the art. This she did. Both J. P and the sister were greatful. As she left she noted his nails were now short and clean. Her zygomaticus major flexed and she smiled.

She finished the rest of her holiday ending the year. The following year she was tied up with her studies and did not find ample time to pass by the wards till she began her clinical rotations.

The lift beeped to open on the last floor. In her snowhite well buttoned labcoat with her log book on one hand she stepped out of the lift. She walked to the nursing station gradually with memories from this place during her last visit flooding her mind.

She introduced herself and asked about J. P. Not remembering his official names she gave a description of him and his condition to the nurse at the desk. She did not know him. This she figured was because she was a new nurse to the floor. She sought for a familiar face.

Before she could look far, she met one to whom she said hi and went straight to her person of concern.

“I’m really sorry but J. P passed on early this year!”

She lost her balance for a few seconds. Her heart sunk. Tears lingered. Her mouth left wide agape. She was left speechless.

Isaiah 25:8… The Sovereign LORD will destroy death for ever! He will wipe away the tears from everyone’s eyes and take away the disgrace his people have suffered throughout the world. The LORD himself has spoken.

Paediatrics Rotation. Braids tied up neatly, dressed in a black skirt and grey pull neck with feet enclosed in black doll-shoes, she marched in covered in her newly purchased snow white lab coat. Early at the ward to commence her new rotation for the next 2 weeks.

She looked forward to working with the kids. She loves kids. By 7:30 Am, all her group mates had arrived. They were given an orientation of the ward before anything else could kick off. They sat and listened to the report with the rest of the stuff. That’s when he majestically matched in.

Marched in or rather bounced in, with his grey back bag. No lab coat, no scrubs but in a blue checked shirt and dark blue khaki pair of trousers. Pink full lips, american height, well built with biceps and triceps threatening to cut through the well ironed shirt. Her eyes were hooked on him all the way to the round table and back as he headed to the doctors’ room. Only when he was out of sight did she remember she was listening to some report.

No sooner had she regained her attention than he reappeared. In his waist long lab coat and white stethoscope around his neck, he re-emerged even more alluring. She was done for. Day one and her attention was already divided. “Some fortnight this is going to be,” she thought to herself as she took her eyes off him and focused on the report being delivered.

After the report they were assigned to different rooms (… hers were rooms 2 and 3, which had patients suffering from gastrointestinal and respiratory conditions respectively). She went into both to familiarize herself with the patients. Later she perused through their files to know exactly what she’d be dealing with. She was psyched up for the day and the fortnight ahead. She did not cross paths with Doctor X for the rest of the day though they were in the same ward. It was a great day by the end of it, she had achieved her learning objectives. She went back to the hostel a happy student.

With the subsequent days, she noted that Dr. X was mainly in the oncology and Acute rooms (…rooms 4 and 5) . She was afraid of these two rooms. The former because she wasn’t psychologically ready to see the kids suffering from cancer. The latter because she did not deem herself ready to deal with paediatric emergencies. On day 3, Dr. X was in marron scrubs. Just the top though, and he was more than pleasing to the eye.

The week nearing an end, her objectives had to be met, she hence made up her mind to work in rooms 4 and 5. She was tensed. She was going to see and work with him in close proximity. He was the registrar in question for room 4 during the grand ward round and she was the nurse in question. Here she had a good opportunity to watch him upclose as his attention was on the patients, their files and the professor.

His voice and every sound and word that came out of his mouth were perfectly articulated. His knowledge mastery of each patient’s case was just commendable. He managed each patient without err. How he had everything in order was amazing. No question from the professor met him unawares. He had the right answers at his fingertips. What a diligent professional!

The professor was pleased. The mood lightened. They even engaged in jokes as they moved from one patient to another ~ this was anything but ordinary. Normally ward rounds are tensed, with the professor roasting everyone. From the registrar, to the nurses with the medical students watching dumbfounded. His laughter had an analgesic effect. She just stared, his facial muscles flexed, his maxilla and mandible parted slowly but surely to let out musical echoes of laughter.

She hadn’t watched him this upclose without interruptions. She loved the beauty her eyes beheld. “How can you be so handsome and so smart!” She thought, thank God not out a loud. After what seemed like an eternity, the ward round came to a gradual halt at around 12. Her feet hurt. She sat at her desk to take a breathe. This before embarking on all that had to be updated as a result of the round.

Before she could put down her heavy head on the table in front of her, he passed by headed to the round table at the end of the ward. His left and right sternocleidomastoid muscles flexed and extended respectively tilting his head to the left. Their eyes locked. In that split second, she froze and had an arrythmias. She had always wished to look into his mesmerizing eyes, but now that she had the golden opportunity to do exactly that, some evil spirit took over. She immediately looked away or rather she looked down with her stomach full of butterflies.

They had a moment. Or maybe it was all just in her head. “What was that you silly girl? How dare you blush? Noooo, we don’t do that here! Yes, it must have been something else. Definitely not a blush. No. Not a blush. Of course not.” That all aimed at convincing herself against the obvious.

He left the round table and headed to the doctors’ room. She promptly buried herself in the load of work before her in hopes to wipe off the effect of what had just happened. She lifted her head up and looked through the transparent glass before her, into the acute room, there he was again. The same thing recapitulated itself. “What’s not happening Missy?” She questioned herself.

That night she thought of that very moment and replayed it in her head a dozen times like a beautiful song she had just discovered. It felt the same each time. The next day, a friday~furahi day, she walked in in a gorgeous flawless blue polyester knee length dress. She was anything short of spectacular and she knew it.

After saying hello to a friend she had made in room 2 ~ a 5 year old lass with Gastroesophageal Reflux Disorder (GERD), she headed to the acute room. Just as she made her right turn, she met Dr. X head on. “Good morning, ” he said. She choked on her own saliva before she managed to part her lips and stammer a response. “Oh my goodness, he talked to me, for the first time ever. He talked to me. Dear universe hope you’ve recorded this. I’m not being delusional.” She thought as her ovaries ululated and uterus inverted~ or so she felt.

The rest of the day they just crossed each other without a word. They only interacted in the treatment room. She was cleaning and dressing a wound due to osteosarcoma. The young lass was scheduled for a left above knee amputation later on in the day. Dr. X was fixing an intravenous line that had tissued. She had goosebumps just talking to him but she made sure to not lose focus on the task at hand. He finished and left.

All cleaned and neatly dressed, she reassured the young lass with regards to the scheduled amputation. She cleaned her tray, disposed off the used gloves and went to wash her hands. She found Dr. X doing the same at the sink. The artistry with which he followed the 8 handwashing steps was just exemplary. The space at the sink was tiny. Her nostrils could as a result smell his masculine odor. The concentration of his perfume was pleasantly intoxicating and hypnotizing. He finished, dried his hands and excused himself.

She tried washing her hands with same artistry but soon gave up. “It must be a skill he has sharpened and mastered overtime.” She thought as she dried her hands and headed out for lunch. A friend had bought her some mouth-watering 2 chapatis. She had a half (…their thickness was enormous, she couldn’t finish one) as she sat on the green grass basking under the sun(…the wards can be freezing at times, at such time the midday sun comes in handy) . Then Dr. X crossed her mind. “He hasn’t gone for lunch. He never goes for lunch. He just moves up and down, from one room to the next, morning to afternoon without a mere lunch break! ”

“I’ll go back, write a note then slip it to him. Howdy, good afternoon Dr. X. Hope you good. I know you haven’t had lunch, so I thought we’d share mine. If that’s okay with you. XYZ.” Excited and elated by the entire idea, she headed for the lifts. They were super packed and booked (…relatives visiting their loved ones). She was too eager to feel the strain of climbing up the tiresome flight of stairs to the paediatric ward.

Arriving at the ward, she wrote down the note according to plan. The number of notes that ended up in the dustbin before the final product only God knows. Maybe the letter t wasn’t sculpted well. Then came w, x, y, z, a, b and c till she was satisfied that they all were perfect.

She recollected how she had pointed out to him his horrible handwriting after the grand ward round ~ thinking of it she couldn’t help the smile that covered her face. Hers had to be perfect. After ensuring the note was indeed perfect, she folded it with utmost care and sought him.

He was a busy bee burried at his table surrounded by files left right centre. She took a brave step into the room. Walked towards him. At arms length, some weakness overwhelmed her. She froze. The cat got her tongue. “Hello,” he said looking up. She quickly thought of a contingency plan. “HI.”She said with a hoarse voice, after which she cleared her throat. Then matched to the equipment drawer to pick a nasogastric tube (NG Tube). Slipping the note into her lab coat she marched out and headed for room 2(…heavily cursing herself). She had those remaining chapatis for supper that evening.

The next week commenced on a high note with Dr. X asking her her name. That followed with him always asking for in every procedure he did. And calling for her for anything he needed done in the collaborative management of the patients. She always looked forward to each morning. She disliked the evenings. She met her learning objectives with ease and having fun in the process.

Furahi day was here. Her time in the ward was up. Time to part with her friend at room 2. Time to part with Dr. X. She hated it. She only knew his surname, which she used that evening she search for him on social media. All in vain. She was frustrated.

The following week she commenced a different rotation in a different ward. Once in a while she’d head back to check up on her friend in room 2. She’d hope to meet Dr. X in the process. She only met him once. “Hello,” he greeted. “Hi,” she replied as she walked into room 2. The subsequent visits were fruitless as she never saw him again.

Once in a while he pops up in her head like a notification and disappears. At times she opens the notification and enjoys the sweet memories that are Dr. X. Dr. Crush.