He had no other thoughts in his head, only how to reach and do what he did best; help pregnant women go through the pains of child birth. When he reached the hospital junction, the traffic lights had turned red but he pressed on nonetheless. He knew that it was dangerous to do that, but so was a gynaecologist being late to the operating theatre. ‘I will have to deal with the consequences later,’ he thought.
He arrived at the hospital and rushed past the reception desk leaving Jones, the receptionist, shocked. He had never seen Dr. Bitteye in such an agitated state before. He was dressed as if he was going to dinner but here he was rushing into the hospital. This must be an emergency.
Dr. Bitteye didn’t wait for the nurse standing at the door to let him in but rather barged in past her. Aisha was sprawled on the hospital bed and seemed to be unconscious. Dr. Bitteye went straight away to operate on her. He was her doctor and therefore knew that this was the way to go, having operated on her all the three times she’d had a baby before.
It took frantic work to do all what needed to be done. Dr. Bitteye kept yelling and screaming at the nurses who were in attendance.
‘Don’t just stand there, get me a scalpel!’ he shouted to one of the nurses. She was so scared that it became difficult to identify which one was a knife and which one was a scalpel. But she managed to get the right one after some conscious effort anyway. Doctor Bitteye must be having something on his mind, he’s never like this. He’s always gentle and caring. ‘What must have changed overnight?’ she asked herself, handing over the scalpel.
The cry of the baby eased the tension and brought a broad smile on Dr. Bitteye’s face, the kind of smile only the first cry of a baby brought to him. Not even a candle light evening with his wife brought that on. The thought of his wife brought back the scene of earlier that evening.
When he had left Annie agape near the car and driving like crazy to the hospital, he did not think of the repercussions. They were just about to board the car to a party they had been invited to, when the call came in requesting his immediate presence at the hospital. He now felt his tenseness return. ‘How am I going to make her understand the compelling pull that drags a doctor to the hospital in such situations? She had said she will pack up and go away if I leave her there. But she’s forgiving and I hope I am right,’ he thought.
An hour later, he entered his apartment and was greeted by a deafening silence. ‘I am dead;’ he wailed and slumped into a nearby chair.
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