A Voyage Within Qalb

Chapter 25: Aligning Paths With You

Usamah bin Sharik said: "Some Bedouins asked: 'O Messenger of Allah ﷺ shall we treat (our ill)?' He said: 'Yes, O worshipers of Allah! Use remedies. For indeed Allah did not make a disease but He made a cure for it' - or - 'a remedy. Except for one disease.' They said: 'O Messenger of Allah ﷺ! What is it?' He ﷺ said: 'Old age." Reference: Jami' at-Tirmidhi 2038

Chapter 25:

Aligning Paths With You

It had been hours, Joseph was sure, but why couldn't he wake up?

The last thing he remembered was getting into a scuffle with Mrs. Marie Adams' son. The man had almost knocked Joseph's teeth out. Joseph had only been a defense opponent, not wanting to inflict the pain back. After all, he knew he'd done something that was deserving of these blows to his stomach as well. Joseph probably had a black eye from the dead woman's son, but he could clearly see who was at fault here; and that was himself. Then, someone had given him a shot of sedatives, and the world had turned fuzzy and weird.

Sedatives. That was probably why he couldn't move, though now he felt like if he really tried, his fingers quivered in the darkened, desolate ICU.

He wasn't even sure how many hours had passed. Everything was a blur of space and voices. Though now he realised how truly weak he was at heart. And not just that — he realised that maybe he had a dangerous gap in his skills now that it actually killed someone. Throughout his stay there, he'd heard all sorts of things.

"He made a really big mistake."

"This could affect our hospital's reputation."

"I can't believe he forgot something so petty, he might end up losing his job."

"He'll have to find another way to live then."

"The son will make sure his Medical License is taken away."

"What a waste of time and money this drama is going to cause!"

Each word was like a knife to his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to dissolve in his bed and disappear. A million thoughts raced through Joseph's head. He imagined himself as a helpless man, wandering here and there — unable to bring justice to the knowledge in his head. The dream of becoming a neurology professor was crushing down around him. This was all because of his absolute carelessness. Hadn't they taught him how to take history of the patient at medical school? Why had he messed up so badly?

If he was honest with himself, he knew he'd deserve whatever punishment was coming for him.

Perhaps he wasn't supposed to be a doctor, and all of this was happening to prove his incompetency. Fate was probably showing him where he stood in the world; not beside a patient's bed.

He was doomed from the start. Coming from a poor family, his parents and his five sisters, they all depended on him — how would he manage everything without his profession? If he didn't have them to think about, he might've allowed himself to wallow in guilt. But he had to steady himself and keep going.

But with this much responsibility, he doubted if he could ever face his family again. They'd be so ashamed of him, so disappointed that they had spent every last penny to make his dream come true. Joseph felt like the walls were closing in, pressing him into a small corner. He felt as if he would die of guilt.

The medicine had almost completely worn off, he could now support himself and sit up on his bed. Yet the freedom of voluntary movement gave him no relief; his breathing was heavy. Beads of perspiration appeared on his face as he blinked rapidly to clear his vision. His head was spinning fast as he stood up and opened the window. The gust of cold wind brought him back to his senses and his breathing became a little calmer.