Chapter One "When I Met Him"
Her POV
When I met him, it was just another Tuesday.
That morning, I felt so down.
So exhausted. And still in my blue dress from the previous day.
As much as I loved my patients, I wanted to skip that day.
I stood up grudgingly from bed and searched for my phone.
5:15 AM.
I still had about two hours to get ready.
Kneeling beside my bed, I spent twenty minutes thanking Elohim.
The next one hour met me already dressed in my favourite magenta.
It was classy, comfortable and modest all at once, and accentuated perfectly with my mirror-flat heels.
My car keys lay on the kitchen sink.
I wasn't surprised.
When you lived with your seventeen-year-old high school brother, wasn't anything possible?
"David, why are my car keys here?" I screamed, frustrated.
No response.
I was tempted to go to his room and release my worst, but my phone rang.
It was Nurse T, saving him for the moment.
"Dr. D, Mrs. Joshua insists she wants to deliver now. She has been screaming since, and we all know she's not due. Unless she wants to deliver preterm."
"Omor! I would be right there. Try to calm her down."
"Okay, Ma."
David yawned behind me.
"Sister, good morning."
"What's good about this morning? Why are my keys here?"
David refused to meet my gaze.
"Am I not talking to you?" I was hysterical.
"Sister, na! Please calm down. You came in last night so tired, dropped the keys on the floor and just laid down on the parlour chair. I even helped you to your room and decided to help you steam the car. I didn't even go far. I didn't stay long," David replied defensively.
I stared at this boy and regretted pampering him all these years.
Ten years' gap was enough for me to receive due respect, but with David, that wasn't an option.
No wonder Mommy brought him to me.
"It's like you want to go back to Faith's side," I concluded.
Taking my keys, I headed towards the door.
"No, Sister, please... God forbid. Sister, you know I love you. Sister Faith is so cruel to me, and I swear her husband hates me."
David followed me, almost kneeling on the floor.
"Don't worry. When I marry, you'd go back and stay with Mommy."
"Nooooo! Whether your husband go like me or not, that one concern am. I no dey leave my lovely sister."
I hissed.
"I pray police would just catch you one day in my car. Better prepare for school."
---
My blue Lexus was able to fit perfectly beside Dr. Ajayi's black Highlander.
I took my coat and stethoscope and hurried into the building.
I rushed into the ward.
Gynaecology Ward II, with twenty patients.
Only four were mine.
Miss Eve was screaming, and Nurse T was tired.
It was the normal setting, and it was only morning.
"Ma'am, thank God you're here," Nurse T greeted from Mrs. Jackson's bed. She was refilling her IV fluid.
"What of in-charge?" I asked, assessing Miss Eve.
"She just stepped out."
"And Mary?"
"That one na late comer."
I smiled, but then it suddenly vanished as I approached Mrs. Joshua's bed.
She had stopped moving.
Her pulse was weak.
Her breathing was shallow, and she was clutching her lower abdomen.
"Did you check Mrs. Joshua's BP?"
"I did. It's very low," Nurse T replied cautiously, noting the worry on my face.
I checked her again, quickly assessing her condition.
Her blood pressure was dangerously low, and her condition was deteriorating.
"Prepare her now! We're doing an emergency operation. Call Dr. Jackson. Call her family for consent. Quick, or we could lose both her and the baby."
I reached out to talk to Mrs. Joshua.
"Mrs. Joshua, stay with me. We're going to take care of you, okay?"
Nurse T didn't ask any questions. She must have known that immediate intervention was the only option.
Mrs. Joshua was rushed into theatre for an emergency Caesarean section.
The operation revealed a severe placental complication that had put both mother and baby in danger. The baby was already showing signs that he could not safely remain in the womb.
In less than two hours, she was operated on safely.
Her and her preterm baby boy survived.
He wasn't due until four weeks later, but waiting any longer could have put both mother and baby at serious risk.
Later that day, during my short break, I was trying to tidy Mrs. Jackson's report when Mary somehow managed to drag me into a gossip while she filled in her nurse's report.
The gossip was about Dr. Paul's ex-girlfriend, who left him to marry a "Port Harcourt big boy," as she called him.
We were still deep in the gossip when a guy walked in with a younger nurse.
He approached us and passed me a smile.
Not a regular one I got from patients' relatives,
but one that meant...
I really don't know.
I was actually imagining things.
I watched too much K-drama in med school.
His hair was the first thing I noticed.
Thick, black, and perfectly frictioned.
His skin was cinnamon, smoothened, with sharp almond-coloured eyes superior to an uplifted nose, which sat above lips that had a plastered smile, framed by a neatly trimmed beard.
Rean was so handsome.
Why was I thinking too much?
My God! What am I doing?!
I cautioned myself.
I smiled back, stood up, just suddenly remembering he was a visitor.
His dressing was on point, and he kept glancing around.
"Good afternoon, Ma," he said.
A smirk cut across my face.
He looked older than my age.
Yet I wondered why he greeted first.
"Hi... how may I help you?"
"Okay... I'm looking for Mrs. Jackson."
"Alright, she's my patient... bed seven."
"Thank you, Ma."
He walked to the right bed.
He hugged the lady who held a little girl.
I watched him the whole time.
Mary's voice came teasingly.
"Ma, remember we're working here?"
I knew my cheeks were flushed.
Mrs. Jane smiled from the adjoining bed. I didn't even know she had been listening the whole time.
She was ready to taunt.
I took my bag.
My meeting was twenty-one minutes.
Without waiting to chit-chat, I left the ward.
Mary and Mrs. Jane's laughter echoed behind me.
---
That was how I met Rean.
That was just the beginning of my best days.
This book uses Nigerian Pidgin language and Yoruba too. I would try my best to write the meaning of the words so you can grasp a scene or discussion.
The Nigerian pidgin language is English but in a twisted way and it may seem incorrect but it's really correct.