STORY OF THE DAY....THE BOILING BLOOD

As Mama withdrew the syringe and gently massaged my buttocks, I smiled. I would want her by my side when I had my baby. She was the best nurse I knew, one of a kind. As she carried her medical instruments into the room, I remembered the incident, twenty-one years ago that forced her into the medical profession.

Frowning briefly as I walked into the four walls of the white building with its nauseating smell, I set the water and cup on the table in front of Mama. I looked for a moment at the lady with the very round face sitting at the far end of the room. Bored with staring and refusing to catch her eye, I shifted my gaze to Baby’s lips on Mama’s nipple and shivered. They were cracked and pale. As if she felt my eyes on her, she whimpered. A few seconds later, she pulled away and shut her eyes. She stretched out her arm and scratched her cheek. She looked like she’d been swaddled in yellowish cellophane. Mama stood and placed Baby on the table and stretched. She poured water into a cup and picked the spoon on the seat. As she turned to pick the sugar packet, Baby hiccupped and slowly began to fall backwards towards the ground which was a bit of a distance from the table. I covered my face with my hands and screamed while Mama grabbed Baby with one arm before she hit the ground. One of the nurses simply looked up in irritation and continued her reading. I uncovered my face to find Mama’s hand half an inch from my cheek. They connected half a second later and I blanked out momentarily.
Few minutes later, a lady in white walked by, took one look at us and shook her head.
“Where is your husband?” she asked.
“Eeeeem, he’s on his way,” Mama answered pitiably.
“You better go and find him, oh. This place is not for ‘awoof’,” she hissed at us.
“He will soon come. How long will it take for someone to look at my baby?”
“Somebody will soon come,” she spat at us.
Two hours later, we were still waiting. Papa had come and left for the bank to get money. In the meantime, Mama had been promised she’d be attended to once the blood needed had been boiled. The funny smell was stronger now and as I attempted to make a comment, I took one look at Mama and kept my mouth shut. I covered my nose instead. Baby was crying hard now but Mama simply looked elsewhere. Round Face came towards us and Mama stood and made to block her path. I followed suit.
“Please,” she pleaded, thrusting Baby towards the nurse, “in the name of God, do something,” Mama pleaded.
Round Face flinched at the gesture and looked at me. I made my seven year old face as piteous as I could manage. The nurse focused on Mama.
“Has your husband come?” she inquired for the umpteenth time.
Mama shook her head sadly.
“So what do you want me to do?”
“Just help me check the blood if it is ready,” Mama begged.
I would have missed the quick change of expression from amusement to seriousness if I had not been staring intently at how round the nurse’s face was.
“Oh, about the blood?” she gestured dismissively with her right hand. “They are still on it.”
“Does it usually take so long? It’s been almost two hours. Can’t you give her another thing for now till my husband comes?”
“See, madam,” the nurse said defensively, “I need to be somewhere now. When your husband returns, tell that sister over there,” she pointed, indicating another nurse.
As Mama turned to look where the nurse had pointed, Round Face stomped out of the room. Mama sat down heavily and I put my hand on her shoulder. I used my right hand to pick up Baby’s arm which hung loose. At that moment, Papa rushed in, breathless with exhaustion. Mama jumped up and startled Baby who had quieted for a while.
“How is she? Sorry I delayed. The queue at the bank…”
“She’s fine. Just go to that nurse over there,” Mama interrupted Papa before he had time to finish composing his apology.
Papa strode to the nurse’s table. He was given a form which he filled. He paid some money to the nurse and she wrote something on the card. She gave the card to Round Face and beckoned to Mama. Mama stood immediately and started walking towards them. Halfway across the room, she stopped short in her tracks, her eyes slowly settling on Baby who had grown deathly quiet. She unfolded the faded wrapper she had used to wrap Baby and all colour drained from her face. Papa who had been staring at her rushed towards us with the nurse following closely behind. Mama started shaking her head, tears pouring down her already white face. She thrust Baby into Papa’s arms and slowly sank to the ground. I looked from Papa to Mama and made to right Baby’s arm which was hanging loose again. She felt cold to the touch. I saw the nurse shake her head and somehow, my young mind processed the unspoken words.
For the second time that day, I covered my face and screamed.

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