“Ah, who we kidding Imad? I’m a 27-year-old with a cane.”
“Well, that cane does look cool on you!”
“It does, doesn’t it?” And they would both laugh at the irony of it all.
A couple of years ago, he had to undergo surgery. His hip was damaged beyond repair and the joint was supposed to be replaced with an artificial one. It was a very dangerous and delicate procedure. Three years he spent preparing and planning for it, raising funds. He visited three countries and saw a dozen specialist doctors. Eventually, he put his faith into the local medical core, reluctantly. If I do it, and die, might as well be here amongst family and friends, he thought to himself.
It didn’t go as bad as he expected it to but it didn’t go so well either. There were complications. And it really didn’t positively affect or improve his life in any way. He still had problems. And his blood was still weak.
Only three months after the operation, he was back in hospital. There was something worryingly wrong that the doctors couldn’t really figure out. Sadiq’s blood cells rate dropped significantly. His entire body turned yellow, just about every vein in his limbs was visible. It was as if he wore see-through skin.
Doctors had no idea what was causing this and basically kept taking him through the same procedure over and over again, thinking to themselves, well we’ve done what we could; now it’s in Allah’s hands.
When the nurse pulled the intravenous injection out, a yellow gooey substance oozed out of Sadiq’s arm. He looked at it, a sardonic smile on his ghastly face.
It was true, he realized. He was, after all, yellow.
Bookmark/Search this post with:
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
