Namal (English Translation) By Nimra Ahmed

Chpt 14: My chronic illness!

"I attended a summer camp with this stick-thin girl, Tuella Steinsbury.

She was an incredible athlete. Fitness was her obsession.

No matter how much weight she lost, it was never enough. A pound from here, a pound from there. She ran like a deer. But then, she couldn't even walk anymore.

That's when I found out she was anorexic. This illness had stolen her sight.

I've never seen anyone as obsessed with their body as Tuella.

She spent her whole life chasing something, and it destroyed her.

You say revenge is your obsession, Berlin.

Let me tell you, obsession isn't something noble.

It's a disease. It eats away at the heart and poisons the soul."

(A dialogue from Raymond Reddington, The Blacklist)

In the late days of September, the heat had subsided, but the humidity still lingered. If you peeked from one of the high windows of the hospital building, you'd see inside where the doctor..."

Zumar sat completely silent in Ziaam Basharat's office, while Dr. Qasim looked at her with sympathy.

"You should have confided in your husband," Dr. Qasim said. Zumar shook her head in refusal. "That's not possible. Just tell me about my kidney. Is it completely gone?" she asked with a seemingly strong demeanor.

"My dear Zumar, you've managed to survive four years on this deteriorating kidney... but it was a perfect match," Dr. Qasim continued, "You once said, 'If I'm lucky, I might even survive a year.'" His eyes reflected the pain he felt for her situation.

"I'm sorry, Zumar. For the past three months, you haven't been taking your medication properly, nor have you been coming in for regular checkups. Last week, I had to forcefully call you in for tests. Unfortunately, your kidney is almost completely non-functional."

"How long do I have before I need a new kidney?" she asked quickly, with urgency in her voice.

"The sooner, the better. The longer you wait, the more complicated it will get. Have you sought a second opinion from any other doctors?"

"Yes, I consulted Dr. Farooq Ahsan, and after repeating the tests, he confirmed that I need a transplant as soon as possible." A somber silence filled the room.

"Is there anyone in your family who could donate a kidney to you?" Dr. Qasim asked after a brief pause.

"I'm not playing a game where I can just discard one thing and ask for another. Donating a kidney is a huge responsibility, and I don't want to ask my family for anything more." She was clearly unhappy with the suggestion.

"Okay, relax!" Dr. Qasim tried to comfort her. "I will try to find a donor for you. The sooner we find a match, the sooner we can schedule the transplant. But you must not be careless like before. I have to insist-please consider involving your family in this process."

But Zumar couldn't hear any more of this. The oppressive atmosphere in the room became too much for her, and she stood up to leave.

*****

"End your journey of searching someday; you're walking in a dream."

On that stifling day when the birds were flying wearily, in another hospital room, Abdar Ubaid sat in a chair, listening carefully to the patient lying on the bed. The man was middle-aged, still not fully recovered. IV lines were attached, and there was a clear frailty in his face.

"In our last meeting, you got to know me well enough," she said softly, with a gentle tone. "I'm a hypnotherapist, but I need to hear your case for research purposes. Are you comfortable?"