Clash Of Cultures

21. Surgical Abdomen

Salman

My sessions with Dr Wheeler had gone by excruciatingly slow. We had discussed every memory of my childhood; some were good, most were painful. The painful ones had been keeping me up at night. So Dr Wheeler had prescribed a mild sedative to help me sleep at night. Unfortunately, I was also on my final ER rotation of residency and had avoided taking them for fear of being drowsy during my shift. Though the sleepless nights were taking their toll now.

One important thing that had come out from my therapy sessions, was the realization that my family's poor communication skills had been the root cause of our dysfunctional dynamics. We had never talked about our feelings; whether of love, happiness or even anger and jealousy. All my life I had been taught to bottle up my feelings. But you only have a finite amount of emotional space inside of you. When that fills up, things explode and there is no way to control how and when those emotions come gushing out. So it was not a surprise that my reaction to every highly charged situation was either of complete breakdown, or a sudden expression of anger and frustration.

At my last session, Dr Wheeler had strongly encouraged me to work on my communication skills with the important people in my life. She didn't mention her by name, but I knew who she was talking about. Noor had come up a few times in our sessions. And I was beginning to realize just how integral she was to my life.

The kicker though was, that all of this was in my head. The last time I had a real conversation with her was when we had gone to Springfield together. Since then it was just a few brief texts here and there. That didn't mean I hadn't watched her closely. I had noticed her in the hallways, usually rushing from one place to another. At conferences, as she sat with her intern friends, listening intently to whatever the faculty member was teaching us, all the while twirling her strands of her hair with her fingers. And I had read about her in our newsletter. She had recently received a small grant to do research on causes of fever in newborns. I was so proud of her then, and had texted her immediately. She had replied with a simple 'Thanks 😊'

That smile emoji had made my day. I even slept well that night, without a sedative. But I was also starting to feel like a stalker. I had no idea how she felt about me. Or, and I was afraid to even think about this, if there was someone else in her life.

So when I saw her name on the sign up sheet asking for volunteers for the county fair, that too on a day I was off from the ER, I saw an opportunity and took it.

And I was so glad I did, because it was a beautiful day at the county fair. The kind of day where you finally tell the woman you have been obsessing over for months, that you were falling in love with her.

I had woken up with a headache, probably because of all the sleepless nights. But between the two cups of coffee, and seeing Noor's pretty face and that sweet, innocent smile of hers, I was feeling more refreshed than I had in weeks. She was hanging out with her female co-interns, as I had expected. Which is why I had a plan!

I was going to offer to buy everyone coffee, they were interns after all and interns never say no to caffeine. Then I was going to ask her to help me bring it back. And when we were alone, I would thank her for encouraging me to go to therapy and tell her that my sessions had made me realize just how much I cared about her. It was the perfect low-pressure, no-strings attached kind of plan. When I saw her walk back to the bus, I figured I would just execute my plan without the coffee. So I followed her.

What happened next, however, was beyond my wildest imagination.

When I reached the parking lot, I saw her climb down from the bus through the driver's seat just as two tattooed men in black jackets got out of an unmarked black SUV and snuck up behind her.