paradise comes with a Price

CHAPTER ONE

I mistakenly deleted chapter. I am sorry.

CHAPTER ONE
“To the ICU now! Hurry!” a male nurse shouted, his voice slicing through the chaos.

“Get the doctor immediately!” another called out.
“Code blue.”

“Code blue.”

“ICU code blue!”

“Dr. Gazali, it’s an emergency your attention is needed now!” a nurse burst into the room, breathless, panic clinging to every word.

“What’s wrong?” Dr. Gazali asked, already on his feet.

Before she could respond, he had ended the meeting and rushed toward the emergency ward.

The moment he stepped in, his expression darkened.
“Oh God…”

The patient lay on the bed, her body locked in violent convulsions.

“She’s epileptic, doctor,” a nurse explained quickly, arranging medications with trembling hands.

“She’s foaming at the mouth!” another added.
“Buccal midazolam,” Dr. Gazali ordered, extending his hand.

The syringe was placed into his palm. He gently opened her mouth and administered the drug into the buccal cavity between her cheek and gum.

“Rectal diazepam.”

It was handed to him without delay. He administered it swiftly, his movements precise, practiced.

Then came levetiracetam, along with other medications aimed at controlling the seizure.
Still, her body shook.

Relentless. Unyielding.
Convulsions tore through her rapid, uncontrollable movements of limbs that refused to rest.

“Convulsions usually subside after medication… why is she still seizing?” the male nurse whispered, fear creeping into his voice.

“It looks like a focal onset seizure,” another nurse suggested.
Dr. Gazali’s eyes remained fixed on the patient. “More like a focal onset aware seizure… she’s still partially conscious.”

A brief pause.

“A VNS therapy device. Now.”

The device was brought in a small machine designed to send mild electrical pulses through the vagus nerve to stabilize brain activity and control seizures.

Seconds felt like hours.
Then. Gradually Her body stilled.
The storm passed.

“Well done… everyone,” Dr. Gazali exhaled deeply. “She’s stable now. Alhamdulillah.”
He stepped out of the ward, only to find her parents pacing anxiously.

“D–Doctor… is she alright? Is my Kulthum okay?” her mother cried, clutching the edge of his gown.
Kulthum’s father gently held her trembling hands, trying to steady her.
“She’s stable now, but she needs rest.”
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
“You know epilepsy can be triggered by stress… by anxiety. And I believe Kulthum has been under both.”

“We were so worried, doctor… thank you,” her father said quietly.
“It is Allah’s will,” Dr. Gazali replied softly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with you in my office.”

“Of course.”

“Can I see my daughter?” her mother asked, wiping her tears.

“Yes, you can.”

She rushed inside immediately.

“Please, have a seat,” Dr. Gazali said, gesturing gently. Kulthum’s father sat, his posture heavy with dread.

“I know you’ve been doing your best as parents,” the doctor began. “But you need to monitor her more closely, especially during moments of deep thought or anxiety.”

He leaned forward slightly.

“She has progressed from generalized seizures to focal onset aware seizures. This means she may remain conscious during episodes.”

A pause.

“It may affect her senses, taste, smell. She might see flashing lights… feel dizzy… disoriented.”

Silence filled the room. Kulthum’s father stared at him, unable to fully process the words.

“I know this is difficult,” Dr. Gazali said gently. “But remember—Allah does not burden a soul beyond what it can bear.”

He stood and placed a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder.
“Everyone has a destiny. This is part of hers. Be patient… pray… and don’t lose hope. You don’t know what Allah has written for her future.”

Kulthum’s father nodded slowly, his mind clouded with worry as he left the office.

“Did she regain consciousness?” he asked the moment he entered the ward.
Kulthum lay still, her mother beside her, eyes swollen and red from crying.

“The nurse said she’s seizure-free now… she could wake up any moment,” her mother replied, her voice breaking.

“It’s okay, Aliya,” he said, pulling her into a firm embrace. “She will be alright… In sha Allah.”
“Maa… ma…” a weak voice murmured.
“Kulthum!” her mother gasped. “She’s awake, my baby!”

She dropped to her knees beside the bed, overwhelmed, clutching the sheets as tears poured freely.

Kulthum’s father stood still for a moment, watching them—then gently lifted his wife and held her close.

“She’s awake… it’s okay,” he whispered.
Dr. Gazali entered with two nurses.
“You’re awake,” he said softly.
Kulthum nodded weakly.
“How are you feeling? Any pain?”

She nodded again, unable to form words.
“Why isn’t she speaking?” her mother panicked.
“She’ll be fine,” he reassured. “Right now, she needs rest.”

He turned to Kulthum.
“You should lie in a lateral position to reduce SUDEP risk. And you need proper rest—real rest.”

His tone softened further.
“Stress and anxiety are major triggers. Whatever is weighing on you… you need to let it go.”

Tears slipped down Kulthum’s face.
She had felt everything.

Every second. Every tremor. It had felt like dying—slowly, helplessly.
“Being ill is not the end of your story,” Dr. Gazali continued. “Accept it… learn to live with it… but never give up. Your future is still unwritten.”
She nodded again.

•
“Kulthum, where are you going?” her mother called from the kitchen.
“Amma, Hammad is here!” she replied.

“So you can’t ask for permission first?”
“I’m sorry, Amma… I didn’t want to disturb you,” she said, her voice soft, almost playful.

“Make sure you stay inside. You know your condition.”
“I haven’t forgotten, Amma. Don’t worry, we’ll stay in.”

I was trying to edit it and gbammmmm I deleted the previous chapter one🤧