Page 33 of No Other Love
She gave a sheepish smile. ‘It is a freaking mess.’ Then her smile turned kinder, empathetic. Lighting up her eyes from the inside out. ‘Maybe I could help clean it up a little bit.’
I nodded. ‘Yeah, that would be awesome. The outpatient hours are about to begin now and you’re a good diagnostician. If you can take over the patients; I’ll tackle some of this paperwork.’
She pursed her lips before replying, ‘Sounds like a plan.’
‘What?’ I demanded. ‘What did I say now?’
She fiddled with the fringe-y thing dangling at the end of her phone. ‘It’s not like you to admit I’m good at something too. Especially when it comes to internal medicine.’
‘People change, Ani.’ I hoped she noted I wasn’t talking only about this one instance and this one compliment.
I hoped she noted I meant all of me.
‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘We have. We learned to not fight every five minutes.’ Her smile was playful, but her eyes were sad.
I understood then, she didn’t know how much things had changed for me. I was probably going to have totalkabout it at some point with her. But not now. Now there was work to be done.
On cue, the doorbell jangled, signaling the arrival of the first patient.
We spoke at the same time, the strange spell binding us broken.
‘I’ll go see who’s there…’
‘You can introduce me to your patient.’
I ran a hand through my hair. ‘I’ll introduce you to the patient. But I should warn you. It’s not as exciting as cutting open little babies.’
‘Shut up, Vikrant.’ She stuck her tongue out and equilibrium was established between us.
***
Hours later, or so it seemed, I raised my aching head from the desktop screen, where I’d spent the whole shift just updating patient records and creating fresh ones. It was an old machine that still ran on Windows 2007 and glitched a lot.
But the funds required to change it and everything else technical went into overhauling the examination rooms, ordering fresh equipment for the hospital. And getting a proper toilet (with a bidet and everything) fitted for the three staff members.
I was willing to rough it almost everywhere but in the washroom.
I stretched in the creaking chair and stood up, feeling every single muscle and body groan in unison. I heard laughter come from one of the exam rooms. Anika’s and a young woman’s.
I followed the sound like a man hypnotized.
The door to the exam room was open and Anika was sitting on the steel stool I usually occupied. She snapped off the gloves she used for examining the patient on the rexin pleather bed– a very pregnant woman named Neelima Patil.
Neelima colored as she saw me. ‘Dr. Pandit. How are you?’
‘I’m fine, Neelima. How are you?’
‘Totally fine,’ Anika said before the mom-to-be could reply. She took off her gloves and dropped them in the examining tray that also held a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. ‘And the little one’s doing fine too.’
Neelima protectively held her belly and swung her legs down from the bed.
I reflexively moved to help her. Noted that Anika had a small smile playing on her lips as she watched me assist the woman.
When Neelima’schappal-clad feet touched the ground, she shot us a grateful, tremulous smile. ‘I am so glad Dr. Anika is here today.’ She spoke in Marathi. ‘The baby hasn’t kicked since yesterday and I was worried…’ She bit her lip and pressed her hands to her belly again.
‘I can understand, Neelima,’ I said gently.
‘Thank you, Neelima, for trusting me with your baby’s health. It’s not easy talking about your deepest fears with a new doctor.’ Anika spoke in halting Marathi. ‘And I told you. Laughter is the best medicine.’ She winked, for added drama.