Waiting For This Cough Syrup to Come Down (this version discontinued)

Chapter 17

"Challenges are what make life interesting; overcoming them is what makes life meaningful." Anonymus

Saniya's POV

I stood up and wiped the dry tears off my face. Crying wasn't a fun experience - I hoped I'd never have to go through anything else which would make me shed more tears. I was aware that I was still hallucinating as I entered the hospital again. He followed me in silence, as though scared to say something which may set me off again. To be honest, there was a possibility. 

As a doctor, you feel immune to pain because you've seen it so often by being in a hospital for almost half a day, everyday. It doesn't mean you've stopped caring, of course, it just means you've become used to it. So when you let a patient's family down by allowing something unpredictable to happen, the doctor wouldn't feel all that awesome.

So perhaps that's why I'm hallucinating my dead ex-patient. Because I'd promised Noah and his parents that he'd be OK due to my method of helping him. Add the guilt of his death to Zayn's state along with the lack of sleep and I've got myself a hallucination in the form of the root of the guilt. And even though I learned a lot from him (well, myself in the form of him), Noah had to go. I can't just continue hallucinating until a convenient time arrives for sleep. 

Zayn's bed was still empty, which was expected as his surgery had to take time with many precautions. Looking at his status, I supposed that they were taking extra care - especially since one of the doctors here was about to get married to him.

I took a seat on the armchair by his bed and curled up, lying on my side. I couldn't quite remember how long his surgery would last, but I was certain I would get a decent amount of sleep before he woke up - at least, long enough for me to stop hallucinating.

But of course sleep would have to wait because my phone just had to ring. I could've just not answered the call, but it was from my aunt - my mum's sister, so it was most probably important.

I sighed and answered, speaking to her in rapid Urdu.

"Why didn't you tell me Zayn was in the hospital?" she said, as soon as I picked up.

"I was busy helping him," I replied. "My boss is a freak, she took him in even though he's got nothing to do with her field."

"Is he OK? When will he be out?"

"He's having surgery -"

"What surgery?" she said, almost shouting out of concern. "What's wrong with him?"

"There's a bleed in his brain," I said in English. I tended to switch between languages out of habit. "It wasn't small enough to just do nothing, so he's having the blood removed."

"Oh my God," she muttered. 

"He'll be fine, InshAllah," I said. InshAllah was Arabic for If God wills or something of the sort. 

"So will you be OK to move back within a week? For wedding preparations?"

Honestly? Not so much. It was likely he'd get out of hospital tomorrow and it seemed a little heartless to just leave him, even if I was going to come back. But if I wanted to get this wedding done, I'd have to be a part of the prep.

"Yeah, Zayn'll manage without me," I replied. "See you soon, then."

After five minutes of thoughts whizzing around in my head, I closed my eyes and tried to allow sleep to take over. I tried especially hard since it was the only way to stop hallucinating and I didn't want to be in a mentally unstable condition when Zayn woke up.