"Hmmm," I groaned gently, hating my helplessness. I managed to sit up and for a brief moment, looked around my room as though it was a strange place I had found myself. 'This room needs to be arranged' I thought to myself as I saw how untidy the room was, largely because of my unavailability at home. I stared into oblivion, lost in deep but brief thoughts, wishing I could just continue lying down to enjoy my sleep which was barely enough.
Like a bolt, I jolted to my feet and made my way to the kitchen to plug my small electric kettle to boil water for a shower. The least I could do for a day I wished didn't break was to feel refreshed. The dread of the day was unusually worrisome for reasons I could not establish and with fear, I jumped into it, hoping to survive the stress work would bring on me.
A few minutes later, I was out of my room and hastily entered into my SUV car to ride to work. I ignited the engine and the sound was absurd, refusing to start. This I believed was a bad omen and rather than wallow in further frustration, I stepped out to the road and boarded a public transport to work. My fear was confirmed, a swarm of patients was already on the wait for me since I was late to work and I was duty-bound to attend to their health needs.
Well, only a few considerate patients understand that a tired doctor is a dangerous doctor. By noon, I had lost count of the number of patients I had consulted and though the number reduced, I still had a fairly long way to go and the supposed 4 p.m. closing hour seemed like a far cry. I worked in the obstetrics and gynecology department and patients in this category are special because of physiological conditions like pregnancy. Like a faithful dog to its owner, I continued to work under duress and even had no time for a munch.
Some minutes after 3 p.m. when my patients' load had subsided, I sighed in relief and stood up for a walk, hopefully, I could get a snack to satiate my hunger. Yet again, a pregnant woman walked into the clinic just at the Nick of time when I wanted to take a break.
"What is your problem?" I asked and only after the words had spilled did I realize I had asked the question in a wrong manner. I froze for a brief moment, displeased with myself but searching out the best way to ameliorate the impact of my words.
"What do you mean by what is my problem? Is that you should address a pregnant woman?" The woman blurted out almost immediately, as though she had waited for me to say what I had said.
"I'm sorry ma," I said remorsefully. Unfortunately, that seemed to fall on deaf ears as the patient continued to express in agitation her verbal displeasure. I walked back to the clinic after I made another apology, ashamed of the brewing uninvited attention I was already drawing to myself. I sat on my seat dejected and the hunger that once threatened me had vanquished in the face of an agonizing incident. I heard a few nurses trying to pacify the patient and apologized furthermore on my behalf.
"And Dr. Musa is not like that o." I overheard one of my nurses say to the patient.
I felt terrible and all I wanted was the day to end. The patient refused to consult with me after the incident and for a reason, I was glad I did not have to face her again. After the dust had settled, some of the nurses walked up to me and demanded I leave the clinic to rest for the remainder minutes of my work hours. I was skeptical but I knew that was necessary. They would find a way to cover up on other patients who present before the next doctor takes over by 4 p.m.
