Tw: death

The following month, Fiza found herself assigned to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU), where her responsibilities included neonatal resuscitation and identifying babies that required specialized care. Today, her roommate Bharti had urgently paged her, and Fiza hurried over to the labor room, her heart pounding with anticipation.

As a pediatric PG, Fiza was typically called in when the baby was about to be born. She quickly set up the resuscitation table, preparing for any potential complications that could arise.

"Mukkamma," Bharti called to the expectant mother, who appeared to be struggling. "I can't breathe," the mother gasped in Kannada, distress etched on her face. Alarm bells rang in Fiza's mind as she quickly inquired, "Was she tested for COVID-19?" Bharti nodded, indicating that the mother's test results had come back negative.

Fiza glanced at the monitor, her gaze narrowing as she closely monitored the mother's heart rate. It steadily climbed—100, 120, 140, 160. "She is in SVT, Bharti," Fiza informed her roommate, the urgency of the situation palpable in her voice. "Adenosine," she called out to the nurse, acutely aware of the critical nature of their task.

Without hesitation, Bharti requested immediate assistance. "Page Dr. Sujini. The baby is decelerating. We need to perform an emergency C-section," she instructed the nurse, her voice steady amidst the chaos.

Fiza quickly administered the adenosine, her eyes glued to the monitor as she kept a watchful vigil. When the mother's heart rhythm briefly stopped for three agonizing seconds, Fiza felt her own heart race with anxiety. Thankfully, the mother's heart rhythm was restored, eliciting a collective sigh of relief from everyone in the room—everyone except Bharti.

"Fetal brady," Bharti stated, concern evident in her eyes as she turned to Fiza. Without wasting any time, Fiza contacted Dr. Sundari, seeking additional help. However, the pediatric HOD was occupied in the COVID unit and couldn't leave the patient she was tending to at that moment.

Undeterred, Fiza assisted in transferring the mother to the operating theater, mentally preparing for any complications that might arise during the birth.

Once in the operating room, she reached out to her colleague, Dr. Faisal, for support. "Faisal Sir, there is fetal distress. The mother is experiencing SVT. I may need your help," she explained, her voice steady despite the turmoil around them.

In a reassuring tone, Faisal encouraged her, "Fiza, you can handle this. Call me if you genuinely need help. I'm in the pediatric ward, and there's no one else here. I can't leave unless it's an emergency. You got this."

Feeling a mix of nerves and determination, Fiza took a deep breath and focused on her training.

As the medical team worked diligently to deliver the baby, an unforeseen crisis unfolded. The mother suddenly went into a dangerous heart rhythm known as ventricular fibrillation.

"Call code blue!" Bharti urgently commanded the charge nurse, springing into action as she began CPR. Amidst the chaos, Fiza received the baby from Dr. Sujini, the obstetrician.

The newborn appeared bluish, with an alarmingly low heart rate. Yet, despite the intensity of the situation, Fiza felt everything else fade away, her focus narrowing solely on the fragile life cradled in her arms.

With a sense of urgency coursing through her, she skillfully placed an airway and initiated the resuscitation protocol. Miraculously, within a few tense minutes, the baby let out a cry, its skin gradually returning to a healthy pink hue, and the heart rate began to rise.

Overwhelmed with relief, Fiza couldn't help but laugh, a sound that felt foreign amidst the gravity of the moment. However, as she looked around, she realized that the rest of the obstetric team was intensely focused on the mother, who had lost her pulse and remained unresponsive to CPR or shocks.

The nurse brought the mother's x-ray to Fiza, revealing ground glass opacities peripherally, a clear indication of COVID-19 infection despite the mother's falsely negative test result. Fiza's heart sank as tears welled in her eyes, but she knew she had to remain steadfast and composed. Her responsibility now lay solely with the newborn.

Completing the newborn check-up, Fiza observed that the baby was stable and doing well. Gently wrapping the tiny bundle in a soft cloth, she cradled the precious life in her arms. However, amidst her relief, she couldn't ignore the somber voice of Dr. Sujini in the background, solemnly announcing, "Time of death, 11:10 AM."

Fiza fought back her tears, trying to stay strong for the father who was anxiously waiting in the private room, anticipating the return of both his wife and their newborn.

"It's a girl," she informed him, her voice tender and caring as she handed him his baby daughter. Due to isolation protocols, no other family members could be present, leaving the father to grapple with his grief alone.

The father's voice trembled as he asked, "Where is Reshmi?" Fiza struggled to find the words, her heart aching for the unimaginable news she had to convey. "She had a complication," she began, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

"Her obstetrician will provide more information. Right now, she's in critical condition." Instinctively, Fiza sat down beside the father, providing comfort in the face of overwhelming grief. "I'll stay here with you," she offered, knowing that he needed someone by his side during this painful and confusing time.

That night, overwhelmed with emotions, Fiza called Alan in tears. "Alan, my baby lost her mama," she said, her words trembling and disjointed.

Alan listened in silence, waiting for her to gather her thoughts, trying to be a calming presence for her despite the distance between them. "Why aren't you saying anything?" Fiza pressed, frustration creeping into her voice.

"I didn't understand," he replied honestly.

Taking a deep breath, Fiza explained, "Alan, the baby I was taking care of—her mother died of COVID." She couldn't comprehend why this particular loss affected her so deeply when she had witnessed so many others.

"Fiza, it's okay," Alan tried to console her.

"It's not okay!" Fiza insisted, her emotions spilling over. She couldn't help but imagine a distressing scenario.

"How would you feel if I died while giving birth to our baby?" The words hit Alan like a punch to the gut, leaving him momentarily speechless. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

"Aargh!" Frustration boiled over in Fiza. "Why am I even talking to you?" She was upset that Alan wasn't providing the comfort she desperately needed.

"Fiza, please don't take your frustrations out on me," Alan finally managed to express. "We're both going through hell right now. Let's not fight. We need each other's support."

Feeling a pang of guilt, Fiza realized she had been so caught up in her own struggles that she hadn't fully considered Alan's feelings. "What's going on with you, Alan? How are you coping?" she asked, her tone softening.

"My friends and I are just leaning on each other, I guess," Alan replied, choosing to refer to his companions as "friends" instead of "friend."

"I'm glad you have good friends there, Alan," Fiza said sincerely, though a nagging thought crept into her mind. She recalled Aradya's recent Instagram post where she had tagged Alan, the image showing them sitting close together, wrapped in each other's warmth. The caption read, "My hottie ortho PG."

Jealousy surged in Fiza's heart, but she tried to push it away, reminding herself that they were both navigating difficult times, and it wasn't fair to jump to conclusions.

As the months passed, the demands of their respective jobs and the ongoing pandemic kept Fiza and Alan occupied, leaving them with less time to connect.

Alan found himself spending more time with Aradya and her group of friends at the hospital. They had formed a close-knit support system during these challenging times, and it felt comforting to have people around who understood what they were going through. This camaraderie dulled the pain of being away from Fiza, of missing her and worrying about her wellbeing.

Meanwhile, as the number of COVID-19 cases decreased, restrictions began to ease. The state was divided into zones, and areas with confirmed cases were cordoned off to control the spread.

Life seemed to be slowly returning to some semblance of normalcy, but for Fiza and Alan, the challenges were far from over.

Between their hectic schedules and the distance that had crept between them, Fiza and Alan struggled to find moments to connect like they used to.

The daily text messages and phone calls had been replaced with brief and hurried conversations. It was difficult for them both, but neither wanted to burden the other with their own challenges and insecurities. Rather than lash out at each other in moments of stress, they thought it better to avoid one another. But at night, Alan missed the sound of her slurred speech as she drifted off to slumber, her quiet breathing, the way she would make him feel like nothing around them mattered as long as they were together.

Fiza had grown accustomed to being independent and self-reliant, but she couldn't help feeling a tinge of jealousy and uncertainty about Alan's growing closeness with Aradya. She wanted to trust him completely, but the lack of communication made her imagination run wild, often leading her to overthink situations.

Alan valued Fiza and their history together, but the emotional support he was receiving from Aradya and the others at the hospital was something he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was a difficult balancing act, and he felt guilt over not being able to give Fiza the attention and comfort she needed. Somewhere along the way, his hurt and yearning for her became enveloped by anger and resentment.

One day, as the initial COVID outbreak drew to an end, Fiza perused their calendar and noticed that both of them had a long weekend off—a well-deserved reward for their hard work during the COVID-19 surge. Excited to surprise Alan, she wanted to ensure that he wasn't heading her way to do the same.

"So, you have some days off," she said on FaceTime, her eyes lighting up with anticipation. However, she could sense that Alan seemed distracted. "What are you planning?" she inquired with a warm smile, hoping to hear about their time together.

"Just a short trip with some friends," Alan replied casually, his mind occupied by Aradya's last-minute invitation to visit Agumbe hill station. Unaware of Fiza's own plans, he hadn't checked her calendar before accepting the invitation.

Fiza's smile faltered, and Alan couldn't help but notice her sudden change in demeanor. "What? Now I'm not allowed to go with my friends?" he asked, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

His sharp words stung Fiza, and she felt hurt. It seemed like she was no longer a priority for him, and that realization weighed heavily on her heart.

As she turned away to hide her tears, Alan saw her eyebrows furrow in distress. His frustration grew as he rolled his eyes, not fully comprehending why Fiza was upset. In his mind, she needed to make more friends and find her own interests—she couldn't rely solely on him and their relationship.

"I... I had planned to surprise you at Manipal," Fiza finally revealed, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "I'm free this weekend too." Despite the distance that had grown between them, Fiza still loved him deeply and longed to see him, to reconnect.

Alan's heart softened at Fiza's words. Beneath all the complexities, he loved her too, and the idea of spending time with her excited him more than anything else.

He managed a warm smile, wanting to bridge the gap between them. "Come with us, Fiza. Take an early bus. It'll be fun!" he suggested, hoping she would accept the invitation and join their trip.

Fiza felt a mix of emotions—uncertainty, hope, and the desire to reconnect with Alan. She knew they had been drifting apart, but deep down, she yearned to feel the closeness they once shared. As she looked into his eyes on the screen, she decided to take a chance—to join him and his friends on this journey and see where it would lead them.

Fiza embarked on the earliest bus from Mangalore to Manipal, her heart pounding wildly with anticipation of reuniting with Alan. The aftermath of the pandemic left the bus nearly empty, providing her with a sense of eerie calmness during the journey. Her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Alan—the feel of his arms around her, his warm embrace, and the comfort of being with the one she loved.

As the bus pulled into the station, Fiza's eyes immediately sought out Alan among the crowd. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw him standing there, waiting for her. Without a second thought, she rushed to him, oblivious to the fact that he was accompanied by Aradya and two other friends.

With unbridled excitement, Fiza leaped into Alan's arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, almost pushing him backward with the force of her affection.

He couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm, showering every inch of her face with kisses, feeling her warmth envelop him. It felt so right—being in his arms again was a soothing relief from all the distance that had grown between them over the past seven months.

Alan realized just how much he had missed Fiza—her touch, her warmth, and the depth of their connection. It was as if the distance between them had vanished, and all that mattered was the love they shared.

Holding her tightly, he couldn't bear the thought of ever letting her go again. She was his Fiza, his soulmate, and he couldn't fathom how he had ever allowed himself to drift away from her.

He leaned in and softly kissed her lips, savoring the taste of her. Fiza responded with equal passion, deepening the kiss as she pressed herself closer to him. It was as if time had stopped, and they were the only two people in the world who mattered.

A distant whistle from a security guard finally broke their embrace, a reminder that they were in public. Reluctantly, they pulled away, but their eyes remained locked on each other, their longing evident.

Alan's gaze moved over Fiza, and he couldn't help but admire her. "Someone's put on some weight," he teased, squeezing her tightly. He was smitten, wanting to be with her, to hold her close, and to forget about everything else.

However, Aradya's loud throat-clearing brought Alan back to reality. "Alan!" she exclaimed, touching his arm. "How come you never mentioned you had a girlfriend?" Her voice held a mix of surprise and disappointment, and Fiza couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity.

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Authors note

Sometimes, we keep things from the people we love so that we don't hurt them. Isn't that lying by omission?

Don't forget to comment and vote!

Btw, I linked "Another one bites the dust" by Queen, not because I want to be callous about death, but the song is at 110 beats / min and is used for CPR training to get the correct number of chest compressions in. Yeah, weird medical satire I guess.

Yes, music is in every aspect of my life.

💜 Faiza