Unbounded
We Were Meant To Be (In response to ideastream №77; An Unlikely Cast of Characters; A pair of suicidal teens in love)
Anorkor almost slips, but caught onto my shoulder, almost taking me down with her. She forces a smile.
“Sorry boo,” her voice mutters with effort.
The rains came in earlier today and drenched the ground wet. A weird sighting for the dry month of October. Her high heels will call it a curse as she pulls through the mud with effort after every step, still anchoring her tall figure onto my shoulder. Her face might call it a blessing; her tears now hidden in the raindrops smothering her face. Not only her face, mine and all of us walking this narrow muddy trail trying to keep it all together.
Wondering, "did I do my best _ did we do our best?"
It was almost eight months ago on Valentine’s day at the hospital. Abigail was a high priority case on Ward E. She had attempted suicide three days before and had just started recovering. She stopped taking her medications when everyone at home neglected their obligations toward her. The usual excuses her single mother always gave whenever she came on admission. She had to work and keep three other kids fed. Babysitting the eldest sixteen year old was not a choice she could afford. It was like that for Abigail, we came to call her ‘princess of Ward E’ for a reason the nurses knew best.
On that day they served chocolates to every patient.
Abigail sneaked up to the roof for some lone time with a bunch of chocolates in her pocket. (Most of it burrowed without permission from the nurses fridge).
She made it to the roof but before her next bite she heard the sobs. A young boy in his teens leaned against the ledge, hanging by a hand. A scene Abigail understood very well; she had thought of commiting suicide by jumping off that ledge during one of her numerous admissions. She said hi and was able to sink into an effortless conversation with Adam, a stranger by chance of being in the wrong place, she came to save. That night they shared their fears. They shared their attempts to die, ungodly thoughts and teased each other how dumb their ideas were. It was tears, laughter, valentine and ‘borrowed’ chocolates that kept them together through the night till the comfort of having nothing to lose took off their clothes and brought out the animals in them; sweating out naked on a dangerous ledge. Biting off their skins and licking each other in places chocolates can’t be found. In her own words it was magic, freedom and a night that can’t be remade.
I remember that night too;
Anorkor, myself and a few others worked extra shifts looking for two cases of teens with major depressive disorders missing from the wards. The nurses took a fair share of the wrath. We were not just looking for patients, but dead bodies we feared. Playing by the rules, we had to wait till morning to say they’ve absconded. A sleepless night. The next morning we arrived to a miracle, not only had two missing patients appeared out of the blue, but two bad cases of depression were surprisingly better. A credit we all gave to our medication and clinical approach on paper but deep down knew it could only be by a miracle, till two weeks ago.
Abigail reported with unusual symptoms and was tested positive for pregnancy. She was 4 months pregnant. Her mother was furious and wanted it terminated. Not only was the pregnancy too far off to consider abortion, Abigail refused to abort her baby. She wanted the baby, she wanted the baby badly, like it was her salvation. She told me ‘they’ wanted the baby.
Adam was the father.
“Adam, my other patient?” My eyes widened.
I learnt it the hard way the events that happened the night of Valentine. They had kept the magic going for six months, 2 weeks, and three days after that she said, smiling at me. They planned to keep the baby and that’s the reason they hid it this long, knowing it’ll be too late for their parents to force their hands to abort it.
Two teenagers, seventeen and sixteen with major depressive disorders planning to raise a baby?
I couldn’t take the burden of deciding what should become of it, but it made them better a way we never expected. Parents on both sides disagreed, but after a careful thought through, I managed to convince them to allow them have the baby for fear they might spiral back to their old ways. It was days of lengthy negotiations. The scans were fine, the pregnancy looked healthy without any abnormalities. Adam and Abigail loved me and trusted me more with everything after that. Their parents still skeptical, took it with a pinch that the pregnancy was far into, and abortion will be a dangerous option for Abigail. (Or they just got tired listening to me cook up excuses and decided to give in).
They had become the Romeo and Juliet story of the hospital. They were their own Bonnie and Clyde.
They were worshipped like saints and were loved by all the staff. They came for antenatal clinics frequently than they should, holding hands in smiles. They were more compliant with their medications now than ever. Anorkor had become their godmother, sipping her own sanity from these two beautiful souls waiting to become three. She was going to adopt the baby till they come of age to take care of her themselves.
That baby was a miracle in every way.
Till a week ago.
I was called to an emergency at gynecology. They said she was my patient. I knew it was Abigail when I saw Adam sitting outside the theatre with his face buried in his palms crying.
She had a miscarriage.
She had abdominal pain for some days, it got worse and she started bleeding with a gush of water. They said she was in labor when she came in. The baby came out premature and breathless but the placenta was stuck and she was rushed to the theatre.
I gowned and went straight inside . She was in tears.
“She’s going to die. She’s not breathing…” She cried through the procedure.
I tried to calm her down. I assured her the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit had the best doctors I know and her baby stood a good chance to survive.
“The baby didn’t make it dear” Unprofessional as that was, a nurse echoed from the doorway.
Abigail was inconsolable. Adam was the first to hear it.
The night was bleak with an uncomfortable cloud of silence. I sat by Abigail and Adam into the night. We talked about everything till their tears run dry between the awkward silence. They promised they’ll be fine. Adam said a joke; they just had to make more babies.
The next morning I got there early and went straight to the gynecology ward to see them. Abigail was not in her bed. I asked the nurse who said they went out to get some air at dawn but haven’t returned. I went to the roof where Abigail told me they’d been the day they met.
There they were in each other’s arms soaked in their own blood with a surgical blade by Adams side.
“God!”
Today we buried them both. Taking consolation from the fact that they’ll lie by each other if there is anything after death. There might be some rules broken for being here today, but who is checking? I can count almost everybody I know in the hospital walking this same trail of mud from the burial ground. Ato the orderly, hopped pass me, looking back with a nod of reverence. I turned to look back and saw more familiar faces I’d missed in the cloud of my tears, ushering in another sob.
I opened the door to Anorkor’s car so she climbs in.
“I’m devastated by it all, but I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I know you loved them and you gave them everything you have.” She went on. “We can’t understand the ways of God. Take heart my dear.” She kissed my cheek and set off.
I stood there, staring into nothingness till almost everyone was gone, when I heard a familiar voice.
“I should have let them keep it, I didn’t know they wanted it that much, I should have listened to you” Abigail’s mother in uncontrollable tears.
It took me time to process what she was sobbing about.
“Wait what, you should have? What did you do?” My voice now getting louder.
“I’m sorry.” She blew her stuffy nose into a handkerchief. “Lord forgive me.”
My eyes widened
“What the fuck did you do, woman?”
This is in response to Xavier Van Holde Ideastream №77; An Unlikely Cast of Characters; A pair of suicidal teens in love.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know you wanted a happy ending; I did too; but I wrote this tragic ending to reflect the state of awareness of mental health in my country. The fact that both health workers and relatives take many aspects of it for granted.
©2020 Ezer Agyin.
