Doctor on the grid

34. Karma

Hi. I'm flattered by your comments and questions about the story's state. 😍 Well, here is the new chapter. I have more written, but it feels like to stop this chapter here. 🤔 I hope next week the new one is coming with... well, some more excitement! 😏

„Fuck," a desperate groan escaped my throat when my pager went off, and I jogged out of the little container which was functioning as my home for more than two weeks now. The night was hot and dry, I felt my t-shirt being wet from the sweat. As I ran, getting near the so called A ward I heard a baby's cry through the silence of the night.

Mweso, the city we were settled, was mainly known from its hospital. It was popular amongst the locals - it admitted nearly 13000 patients around the year. It was near Goma, where the headquarters of our organisation was, about 60 miles from the eastern border of Rwanda. The busiest department was undoubtedly obstetrics. With the complete lack of family planning, a lot of babies were born. We were there to make sure they are well taken care of.

I met my assistant halfway. The Austrian veteran nurse-anaesthetist, Wolfgang was nearly able to see anything, he had been surely in the middle of his deepest dreams when we were paged.

„'Morning," I smirked at him, but he only responded with a grimace.

„It's 3," he barked, and matched my pace in running.

We arrived at the Operation Room, and the situation became clear without the staff explaining it to us. I gasped as I saw the Norvegian midwife, Hanna's hand being pushed in deep inside a woman who was obviously in labour.

She is preventing either the cord or some small part of the baby to be born beforehand. It's an urgent indication for cesarean delivery. That's why they called us.

The woman looked like she was in pain, and there was no blood around - at least not more than normal. Great. It's a good sign.

I looked at Wolfgang, who didn't need more, he turned and rushed to the OR to prepare everything for the urgent anaesthesia.

A nurse just came in the room with a crying baby, but she soon realised it wasn't the place and time for them to step ahead, so she wanted to leave.

The woman asked something worriedly, and the nurse translated it.

„She is asking if she was alright?"

Hanna nodded. I figured they were talking about the baby.

„She is healthy. But there is another one in there, and a little stuck so that's why we are going to the surgery, ok? My hand just gonna stay here till you and your baby are all right, OK?" she explained with a shade of panic in her voice. Then she looked at me. „Where the fuck is Hernandez?!"

Our Mexican gynecologist soon arrived already sweating, so we were ready to get the second baby.

The mother wasn't aware about her twin pregnancy at all for nine months – but soon, twenty minutes later, we woke her up, and brought her both her babies, a completely healthy girl and a boy.

„Ashanti," said the mother, still half asleep, but with a beautiful, grateful smile. I knew it meant thank you in Swahili, and I nodded happily. Wolfgang was making some strange noises next to me, snobbing into a handkerchief.

„Come on let's go before you get pregnant just by looking at them," he murmured under his breath, and simply walked out.

I snorted, but said goodbye to the other staff members and followed him.

There were the only four of us who provided anaesthesia in the hospital – two doctors and two assistant nurses. One was Wolfgang, the other one was a quiet girl from Ukraine – Tamara. I had no idea what she was running from, but I sure heard her speaking on the phone once and said she'd never go home again.