April 2020
Madiha
April 1: Everyone Thinks They're Right About Masks (The Atlantic)
Does the coronavirus travel through the air? If so, how far can it travel? Experts say the answers to these questions are complicated and studies are inconclusive. To find answers, "you'd have to expose animals to different quantities of airborne viruses, see if they get infected, and relate that to measures of the virus [in places] where people are infected," said epidemiologist William Hanage. "This is the type of stuff people will work on for years, but no one is going to find out for the moment." As for whether people should be wearing masks, Hanage said they could potentially stop those with COVID-19 from infecting others, but data is limited. "We're trying to build the plane while we're flying it," he said. "We're having to make decisions with quite massive consequences in the absence of secure data. It's a nightmare for your average cautious public-health professional."
I sat in the conference room reading an article Omar had shared, and shook my head at the text message that followed.
Omar: Thank God we live in a liberal city. My classmate in Florida was verbally abused on the subway for wearing a mask on his way to work 🤦♂️
Me: People on the subway here aren't that nice either.
I instantly realized I shouldn't have texted him that. It didn't even take him 30 seconds to call me with worry lacing his muffled voice through an N95. He was on the COVID ward these days.
"Did someone say something to you, Madi? Tell me the truth," he insisted, leaving me no choice but to relay the close call I had that morning on my train ride into work.
It had started off as any other train ride since the beginning of the pandemic. I was the only passenger who got on at my train station and the first few stops went by with only one other person getting on. Like me he too wore a mask. I was in my scrubs. Him in his Chicago Transit Authority uniform. He said 'Hello', I nodded and we sat in silence several seats apart, till three stops later when a burly man, tattoos up his arms, cigarette in his hand walked in. Without a mask on.
"Let me guess, you told him to stop smoking and put a mask on," Omar said, and I could imagine him slapping his forehead.
"What was I to do? It is mandatory to wear masks indoors and you can't smoke in a train. He was breaking not one but two laws."
"I know, Madi. But when you're alone you need to be more careful and not pick fights. Please tell me you're ok."
"Yes, yes. He just swore at me, and called me a brainwashed libtard who was faking this whole COVID thing just to suppress American freedom. I just felt bad for that Black CTA worker. He tried to stop the man and instead got spit on."
We both got off at the next stop, and caught another train. But listening to a anti-science racist tirade when you've been putting your life at risk every day is a horrible way to start off your day. And as Omar pointed out, I didn't need any extra tension in my day.
"That's it. I am picking you up on the days I am not on overnight call."
I tried to argue, "You barely get any sleep as it is. You'll have to get up even earlier if you come to pick me up from the suburbs."
He quietly replied, "You think I'll be able to sleep knowing you have to ride the train with idiots?"
My heart fluttered at the concern in his voice. Only he could care so much about a mere train ride while standing in the COVID ward surrounded by death and despair. I prided on being an independent woman. But the safety his presence offered was far too tempting. Besides I missed seeing him everyday.
"Ok, but we keep our masks on in the car. I don't want us infecting each other."
"Deal," his voice perked up, and I sighed thinking of the adorable way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. How I wished too that we could simply ride together to work - from our home.
*******
"Madi, do you have the presentation ready?" Dr Patel asked me as soon as he walked into the conference room.
"Yes, sir. I worked with Melissa to get all our remote consult data as well as the reasons why our specialists were being consulted," I told him of the joint effort between me and the administrator for our department.
"Excellent. The reps from Cyber Gateway should be here any minute," he replied. Then added with gratitude, "Thanks so much for doing this. I know you are busy with so many other things but the CEO of the company himself asked for the chief resident to be involved. The current one will be leaving soon so I thought I'd ask you."
He did? I wondered why.
"No worries," I smiled under my mask, "improving access to healthcare has always been a personal passion of mine. This just sounds like a great project to be a part of..."
'So glad we'll be exploring your passion together," a familiar deep voice interrupted me. I swung around to face the man who had just walked in through the door. He wore a mask like the rest of us, but the perfectly gelled hair, those dark-rimmed glasses, that designer suit were a dead giveaway.
"Faraz?"
He walked over to large rectangular table I sat at, and took a seat opposite me, flanked by a handful of other members of his team.
"Hello Dr Madiha, aka Madi." The mirthful look in his eyes as he held my surprised gaze was unsettling. I blinked, quickly.
"Do you know each other?" Dr Patel interjected.
"We're family," Faraz replied before I could.
No we're not, I wanted to say. My sister's brother-in-law hardly counted as family, but Faraz had already started introducing his team of software developers, then moved on to the topic at hand. So, I too shook off the weird feeling and dove right in.
For the rest of that hour, I presented our experience of sub-specialists providing far flung physicians with advice on the phone or Skype when needed. He asked questions intermittently, always respectfully. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He was just the CEO of a tech company trying to make a difference by providing a technological solution through which we could securely send patient data and talk to providers around the world in real-time.
"We'll have a beta version of the teleconsulting program ready for you in a couple of weeks. How about we meet then and demonstrate it for you?" he asked Dr Patel.
"I should be able to make time. We'll pull in some of our IT folks as well," my program director replied, and turned towards me, "what about you, Madi?"
"I'll have to look at my schedule."
Faraz spoke without being spoken too. "Well Dr Madiha, thank you so much for your insight today. I hope to see you again soon." He nodded, the rest of his team said goodbye and was gone before I could blink.
"Nice guy," Dr Patel remarked.
"Weird guy," I muttered under my breath, and took my phone out to send a text.
Me: You'll never believe who showed up at the hospital today.
Omar
April 15: Environmental Biologist Offers Tips For Cleaning And Disinfecting Your Home During COVID-19 Crisis (CBS News Chicago)
The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention have said the virus can live on a variety of surfaces for hours, or even longer. Erica Hartmann, an environmental microbiologist at Northwestern University, said that the best line of defense against this virus is alcohol or bleach. But she cautioned if you don't properly let products do their job and stay wet for a period of time before wiping down surfaces at home, "the appropriate reaction won't take place."
I glanced over the day's news as I waited outside Madi's home. Leaning against the car I scrolled through testimonials of how healthcare workers were decontaminating themselves before going back home to their loved ones.
For a brief moment, I wondered what my parents were doing to protect themselves from COVID in Pakistan. Despite everything, deep down inside I worried for them due to their age. The lockdown had continued, and Pakistan hadn't yet - by some miracle of God - turned into a cautionary tale for the rest of the world. But if Sehr's Instagram feed was anything to go by, the rich and powerful elite back home were still managing to flout all COVID rules and even hold weddings in private locations.
Parents-wedding-rich and powerful, those words evoked bitterness within me again, erasing any trace of concern I might have felt. How could I ever muster sympathy for individuals who treated others so callously based solely on their financial status?
"Fancy car for an intern," I heard someone say, forcing me to look up from my phone and frown at the intruder who sauntered towards me.
"Faraz?"
"Why are you and Madi always so surprised to see me?" he mused, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Maybe because you have no business being near either of us," I retorted.
"Ah, the jealous boyfriend."
Boyfriend. I was convinced it was a deliberate ploy to provoke me, tarnishing the sanctity of my relationship with Madi by categorizing it as a temporary bond, which was itself contrary to our religious and cultural values. Our connection ran deeper than mere infatuation; we were a haven of love and tranquility for each other. One that would last forever, but was now being questioned by this irritating man.
My jaw clenched. "I am not her boyfriend-" I started to say.
"Oh, my bad. Fiancé then or husband?"
I took a breath, stopping myself from punching his smirking face, "Neither, yet."
His face twisted into a sinister smile, "So you're basically nothing to her."
I swear if I hadn't heard Madi's voice calling out to me right in that moment, that man would be well on his way to the hospital, from traumatic injuries to his face. I am sure the ER docs would even be glad to see him, their only non-COVID patient for the day.
But instead of my fist clenching it relaxed as her hand rested on my arm. Her obvious displeasure with Faraz was the soothing balm to my racing, anguished heart.
"What are you doing here Faraz?" she asked curtly.
With instant charm, he switched gears, "I was actually en route to your hospital for our meeting. The beta version of the teleconsult program is all set," he replied, his tone disgustingly sugary. He nonchalantly added, "I figured I'd offer you a lift to work, so was just swinging by."
"She doesn't need you," I replied, my tone dripping with venom.
"Ah of course, the intern has everything covered" he raised his palms, backing away. "Though, I go into the city often, so let me know if you ever need a ride, Madi."
"No thank you," I heard her say, but the infuriating man had already disappeared into this Mercedes.
"Let's go, Omar," she tugged at my arm, yet all I could think of was, this is the man she'll be working with in the coming weeks?
"I don't trust him one bit," I told her as we put our masks on and sat in the car.
"Do you trust me?" she asked.
"Of course, I do."
"Then there is nothing to worry about," she replied softly. "Dogs will bark and wolves will howl, but all that matters is this," she wagged a finger in the space between us. "Everything else is background noise."
I had taken a breath to calm myself down and started the car then. Unfortunately, sometimes the background noise is so loud one can barely hear the sweet sound of a lover's voice.
Madiha
I watched him driving in silence, his eyes locked onto the desolate highway that would typically be bustling with traffic. But the way he aggressively shifted gears and kept tapping his leg in between told me that there was anything but silence in his mind. Maybe I should have encouraged him to share his thoughts with me rather than keeping them to himself. But I refrained, for I too was engrossed in my own internal dialogue.
***Flashback***
I walked through our front door and dashed up to my room. Just as I had done every day of the last few weeks while I worked in the COVID ward. It was only after I had shed my clothes, scrubbed myself head-to-toe, and shoved my clothes into the washer to be washed at 'high temp' that I came down to the kitchen, debating with myself if I should be wearing a mask as well around my parents.
"Come sit with us Madiha," Ami called out from the living room.
"I think I should stay far away, you know just in case I catch COVID I don't want to pass it on to you," I replied, taking a seat as far away from them as possible.
Abu lamented the difficult position I was in and Ami said a dua loudly for me. We had our evening chai in relative silence, which was unusual in our house. For me it was a welcome respite from the beeping noises of the patient monitors, and the shrill sound of code blue. For my parents though, it was a moment to gather their thoughts from a call they had received earlier that day.
"Sakina Apa called today," Ami finally spoke.
"Maliha's mother-in-law? How is she doing?"
"Good, good. She was asking about you," Abu replied, hesitantly.
That wasn't news to me. Everyone in my family had been asking either about me, or for me. The former out of concern after hearing all the news about healthcare workers, and the latter because they or someone they knew had COVID. Which is why what my parents alluded to next completely threw me off.
"Actually, she was asking about your plans after graduation- ," Ami peered at me from above her glasses.
"They are looking for a wife for Faraz, you know," Abu completed her sentence.
What does that have to do with me? I might have meekly said in the past, instead I took a deep breath, met their gaze and got to the point, "Omar and I will get married after I graduate. I've told you that already. Omar's father is busy with his business. The pandemic has hit them hard. But he will talk to you as soon as this is over."
Ami shook her head slowly and looked away. Abu did not.
"But beta, how long does it take to pick up a phone and dial a number. Aghar unhoun ne phone karna tha tou woh kar chuke hotai," he said, and the lump in my throat that had developed as I sat their lying to my parents became that much harder to swallow. (If they had to call they would have by now)
"Abu, Omar and I will get married. His father and mother will call you. These are unprecedented times please don't hold this against them," I told them defiantly, hoping against hope that the words my heart spoke with so much conviction wouldn't merely be hopes and dreams disappearing into thin air.
"I've made my choice, I will not go back on it," I repeated, till they were both nodding.
Ami walked over and put her hand on my head, "Ok beta. Don't take any stress, its not good for you. Sakina Apa didn't say anything explicitly. If she does, we'll say that we're already discussing your rishta somewhere."
***End***
But how could I not stress? Things were getting so complicated. I was hiding so many things from so many people that it was hard to keep them all straight.
Ami and Abu didn't know the truth about Omar's parents..
Omar didn't know the truth about Faraz.
Faraz didn't know the whole truth about Omar and I.
There was nothing I could actively do about Omar's parents and mine, or that Faraz's mother was maybe interested in me for a purpose I didn't even want to think about. Omar was already suffering, I couldn't add more to his misery by bringing up a man who lost no opportunity to belittle him. But there was something I could do about Faraz and his constant meddling in my life.
"Do you want to grab coffee together after your meeting with that idiot is over?" Omar huffed when we reached the hospital.
I would have loved a coffee break, but instead I told him, "I have to go straight to another meeting, so maybe we can just have lunch together."
I didn't lie. I did have a meeting, with Faraz. He just didn't know about it yet.
Omar
"Take care of yourself, Omar. Remember to recite Ayat-ul-Kursi before entering the COVID ward," she said, her gentle tone tinged with worry. Despite how that day had started, standing there in the empty foyer in front of the elevators, I could unequivocally say I wouldn't want my life any other way. How could I, when I had the love of a woman so committed and caring as Madi?
"I will. You be careful too," I smiled at her from behind my mask.
We separated then, she walked away to the conference rooms on the first floor and I took the elevators to the fifteenth floor. Elijah, an African-American co-intern and friend met me as soon as I got off the elevator.
"You're here? I thought you might have ditched this place," he said sarcastically.
"I wish I could," I told him. Though, in reality that wasn't even an option. Everyone's leave was cancelled. Every day we heard of one of our colleagues be quarantined because they had tested positive for COVID. We were operating on the bare minimum staff and pulling in longer hours than I ever thought were humanly possible. Yet, there was a sense of camaraderie between us. Attendings no longer treated us as trainees, senior residents were that much more respectful, and we as interns felt like we were sometimes running the show all by ourselves.
"How is your family doing?" I asked my friend.
He shrugged, a faraway look glazed his worried eyes, "Not good. You just have to look at the skin color of the majority of patients in here to realize that no matter what my family does we are much more likely to end up in here."
Statistics backed up his despair. Black Americans were three times as likely to get COVID as Whites and Asians and twice as likely to die from it. Genetics might have had a role to play but what Madi witnessed on her train ride, a Black Chicago Transit employee - an essential worker being put in harms way because of their job, was likely playing a much bigger role.
"Sorry man. Racism never lets up, does it?"
"No," he solemnly shrugged and put on his N95 and eye protection goggles. "I'll see you in there," he pointed to the closed double doors beyond which were dozens of patients with COVID.
"Yup," I replied, But before I donned my own protective gear, the talk about family reminded me of friends who had become family. I sent a group text to them.
Me: Hey Noor and Salman. How are things? Haven't heard from you guys in a while so just checking in. How is Ayah?
Madiha
Dr Patel had told me I didn't have to stay for this part of the meeting. But even I had to admit, it was mesmerizing watching Faraz negotiate the terms of an official partnership between Cyber Gateway and University Hospital of Illinois.
"Look Mr. Coleman," he leaned forwards, across the table from the hospital senior IT administrator, "I am not trying to make money off this product. In fact, to be honest, we've been working tirelessly to ensure it meets your specific needs. It's only fair that we receive appropriate compensation."
"You're asking for a price steeper than what we had anticipated," Mr. Coleman, a man with distinguished pepper-grey hair, looked at him with a steadfast gaze.
"You're getting a product that is far better than what you had asked for," Faraz replied immediately.
"There are cheaper products in the market."
"Yet, you are sitting here negotiating with me, which means none of those products meet your demands."
Mr. Coleman paused and exchanged a meaningful look with Dr. Patel. Even I knew Faraz was spot-on. The telemedicine solutions we had considered previously were cumbersome to use and plagued with technical issues.
"You need to bring down the cost by at least 10%. Otherwise, we'll have to walk away."
Faraz hesitated, but only for a moment, "I'll do one better. I'm willing to offer a 15% discount, on the condition that you allow us to implement this program in your affiliated community hospitals within the next three years."
Wow, did he just potentially quadruple the market for his product by offering a mere 5% additional discount? I couldn't help but blurt out, "That's three more hospitals."
He slowly settled back in his chair, his piercing gaze fixed on me. "That's correct, Dr. Madiha. And each of those hospitals has its own revenue streams. Considering they're situated in outlying suburbs, don't you think they too would benefit from this remote service?"
I was no one to answer that question, but Mr. Coleman was. And he, to my utter surprise, agreed. Apparently, it was cheaper to spend money on a telemedicine service than pay actual physicians to go to these community hospitals. Faraz had done his homework well.
Documents were signed after that, and deliverables agreed upon. Keeping in line with the current times, instead of hand shakes being exchanged there were elbow bumps. All while I stood quietly in the corner, trying to figure out what this admittedly smart and articulate man wanted from me.
That's exactly what I asked him as I followed him out of that room.
"I need to speak with you Faraz," I called out. He nodded to the rest of the team and swung around to face me.
"What can I help you with Doctor Madiha?" he asked politely, tilting his head to the side.
"Drop that courteous act," I scowled. "With the way you acted this morning, I know you're nothing but a badtameez man on the inside."
I could tell he was smirking under his mask, "Nothing I said was a lie. Then why be so defensive for a mere intern?"
"He is not just an intern," I retorted. And much like Omar that morning, I wanted to punch the man in the face.
"Then what is he to you?"
"That's none of your concern."
He shrugged, "Okay then why'd you stop me?"
"To tell you that you and I have no future. So please just stay out of my way."
Instead, he took a step closer, his intimidating dark gaze fixed on me once again. "Oh but doctor sahiba, didn't I just demonstrate in the conference room that I never lose? Especially, to a daddy's boy who is still 'finding' himself." His fingers made air quotes.
Suddenly, the mask I wore felt suffocating, but I forced the words out anyway, "What do you want, Faraz?"
He scoffed, "You, Madi. Just you."
*******
Was that a threat from Faraz?
Although Madi may never agree to marrying anyone but Omar, what about her parents?
While the pandemic is serving to be quite a hindrance for Omar, will Faraz use it to his advantage (in more ways than one)?
That and lots more coming up in the next few chapters.
Thanks for reading! Don't forget to vote and comment 🙂