The Green Eyed Monster, Pertunia Lehoka [e novels to read online .TXT] 📗

This was a practice that housed at least six doctors and other medical practitioners. I figured that one of the rooms Bertha was wheeled into was empty with no patients.

“Ms…,” one of the receptionists called me, startling me as I wanted to go in with my friend because she wasn’t going to be able to speak for herself due to the state she was in.

“Yes…,” I responded.

“Please complete this form.” She handed me a form placed on a hard-board, while she continued launching questions at me regarding the patient we had just brought in.

“Can I have her medical aid card please,” she continued and then extended her right hand towards me, looking a bit goaded- probably expecting me to hand Bertha’s medical aid card to her. She was probably about to knock off hence such frustration I could see in her eyes. I must say, I was affronted by her attitude.

“I’ll pay cash,” I mentioned.

“Has she been here before?”

My God! The woman wouldn’t let up, not even realizing how galling she was being. I mean, how was the doctor going to find out what was wrong with the patient if he/she was alone with her in the room? I know I shouldn’t have lost my temper but I swear I did!

“Lady, I think this can wait until the doctor has seen her. Just take out her file in the meantime as I know very well that she has been here before. Her name is Bertha Mothobi,” I instructed, in a very harsh tone and handed her my credit card to pay, which she elected not to take.

It’s only now, as I pen this chronicle, that I’m beginning to truly understand my anger towards that poor receptionist then. My mind must have still been processing the information I got from Bertha, that a nurse had injected her with blood infected with the deadly virus. So, clearly everyone who worked in the medical field, was about to experience my rage – unfair I know, but that’s what happened and how I felt at the time.

“I apologise Ma’m,” the receptionist said ruefully. “I don’t mean to be insensitive but, I really need to record all this information in the system because we will be closing in an hour.”

Did I really care about her apology? Of course not. However, I am able to laugh at myself now because of the time that has elapsed since I got the news.

“Like I said, she has been here before so when should I pay?” I continued with my defiant approach, or rather my fear disguised as boldness. It became evident only later to me, that I hadn’t handled the situation fairly at all, largely because I was too close to it and needed people to feel the way I felt at the time. We all know that it was an impossible ask, but that was what I had expected from those around. What an iniquitous expectation that was!

“Pat, please calm down. They’re just trying to help and to make sure that Bertha is attended to as speedily as possible without any glitches,” Thato chided me, looking at me disapprovingly and shaking his head. “Please Pat, we are all worried… yes perhaps you are more affected but let’s let them do their job okay,” he added.

While all the back and forth was going on between myself, Thato and the receptionist, one of the female doctors approached us, clearly about to direct her inquiry towards me.

“Ma’m, are you the one who brought the lady in just now?”

“Yes, yes it’s me,” I responded ardently, feeling relief of some kind.

“Come with me please Ma’m,” she said, extending her right hand to the receptionist to get the file.

I felt so bad for the poor lady and sense finally prevailed. I knew that I had to quickly apologise. I whispered to her, “I’m sorry; I’m very frightened. I know that’s not an excuse for my behaviour but I really am sorry,” I said, mortified.

“It’s okay really, don’t worry about it,” she said smiling, eventually taking the file out and handing it to the doctor.

“Let’s go this way Ma’m.” The doctor directed me to the room Bertha had been placed in.

When we got to the room, I noticed that my friend was truly out of it and was lying on the bed, her body convulsing uncontrollably. There was a nurse in there with her, holding her down so she wouldn’t fall.

The doctor sat on her chair and motioned a chair on the other side for me to sit. She quickly went through the file, while advising me not to worry as they had given Bertha some sedative and that she would soon settle down. She then continue reading through the file.

“Oh I see…, mmm,” she murmured and continued reading. “I take it you know what her issue is?” The question was rhetorical and innocent enough – well, I thought.

“Yes, I do. She has just told me about forty five minutes ago to be precise.”

“Oh, I see. Are you family?”

“No, I’m not family; I am her friend and colleague. She doesn’t have family around here. She comes from out of town.”

The doctor continued going through Bertha’s file, totally ignoring her as well as the poor nurse, whose arms were probably aching from extending them and letting them dangle in the same position for long, while holding Bertha down.

The doctor finally finished going through the file and stood up, going to examine my friend. I faced her way as well, once the doctor had reached her on the bed.

The nurse quickly gave way, while Bertha had ‘rested’ somewhat, responding to whatever they had given her before I came in. The doctor took her time examining Bertha and once she had finished, she informed me that she would be fine as she was probably just reacting to some medication she had been taking.

She then went back to her chair and scribbled some notes in the file. It was very quiet in the room and I saw Bertha opening her eyes slightly, only then coming to terms with where she was at that moment, calling out to me and smiling. I was relieved to see her smile and to hear her voice.

The doctor then handed me a script, advising that my friend would still be lightheaded for some time and that she needed to rest for a couple of days and not go to work.

We left the doctor’s rooms and I found the guys still waiting for us at reception. I was given a bill by the receptionist and I paid without hesitation, while Bertha was walking by herself by then, even though she was still not 100% better.

We left the practice and as I was about to call my husband, I saw the car parked in front of the building. He came out on seeing me holding onto Bertha, visibly worried. I related the whole story to him and that there was a prescription that needed to be filled. We both rushed to the pharmacy nearby, leaving the kids in the car and Bertha with the guys from work, as they sat on the benches outside of that building. We returned quickly after having had the script filled.

As we were about to help Bertha to get into the car, Thato and his friend volunteered to take her home and to make sure that she was okay. Bertha affirmed that she would be okay and I released her into the guys’ care, handing over her medication to her.

I had no idea that, that would be the last time I would see Bertha in a better state of health – the condition I had thought at the time, was horrible but stable.

Weeks passed and my friend didn’t make it to work and I had to go and see her, together with three other colleagues. As mentioned, she was from out of town – about two hours drive. I remember when we arrived at her home at a small town, she had lost enormous weight. She was never really a big person per sé but that day when I saw her, there was no life left on her, that much was lucid.

She made so many jokes that day, telling me that when she gets better, she was going to scold me and boss me around the same way I did her. We laughed so much that day in spite of her ill health. Although I could see that there was no way she would be able to do so as she was frail, I had to indulge her to make her feel better.

When we eventually left in the afternoon, she stood by the door and waved us goodbye, her hand visibly too heavy to lift up. I knew then, that it would be the last time I see her beautiful face again. That wave proved to be the last she would ever direct at me.

Two weeks later, we got a message that Bertha was gone, her fate having been decided by a jealous nurse, who abused her position as a health care worker, entrusted by the state and the citizens of the country, to help foster patients to good health. All this was because her ex happened to leave her and was now involved with another woman – Bertha. As much as my friend’s relationship with that man never really lasted long, there was a child born out of that relationship.

Although the nurse and her accomplices were ultimately arrested, that was little comfort to those of us who loved Bertha. A deadly virus had been forced to dwell inside my friend’s blood through diabolic means.

Parents lost a daughter; a son lost a mother and I lost a very dear friend – all because of a green-eyed nurse. Each time I think of Bertha, I cannot help but to shed tears and wonder why God was silent when all these things were taking place.

It has been thirteen years since my friend was taken away from us but, to date, I still become very nervous when I go to a hospital. At some point, I even developed a phobia of some kind for hospitals, particularly the ones from the area my husband comes from.

Since the year 2007, I have lost four members of my family (father, mother, sister and grandmother), who all died in hospital. I have made peace with their passing but, somewhere deep down, I would always wonder as to whether there wasn’t anybody who might have abused his or her position, leading to my loved ones departing earth before their time. But then again, nobody knows when our time will come. As humans, we sometimes forget that we all live on borrowed time and when things do not make sense, it is when we believe that we can somehow control the events. We disregard the fact that there is the all-pervading higher power around us, which happens to be a Master Strategist on everything earth.

Was this Bertha’s destiny? Should all deaths be accepted, even when unnatural and carefully orchestrated by human beings who play God with people’s lives? I pray all the time to get over Bertha’s death. This hurts though, it really hurts.

 

 

THE END

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