So early this year, I was operated on at a private city hospital. At first, the doctor said the benign tumour (non-cancerous lump) on my hand wasn’t a cause for worry.
I turned up like every patient the day before and registered for admission,
There was some kind of cheerfulness within the waiting lounge, different from other facilities I had ever visited. One mother was rocking her baby to sleep while next to her, a Caucasian lady was filling out insurance forms.
Outside an ambulance wailed as it rushed a patient to the emergency section.
The duty nurses were so patient and humane. They all smiled and welcomed me to my ward. I had a tag on my hand – patient 235678. Okay, Let me confess that I can’t remember the exact code. Haa.
“Your first time to be operated on?” A nurse with the name tag, Jacinta, asked while washing her hands at a sink. She then turned and smiled before introducing herself. She asked me to move further up the bed and adjusted the pillow and the white duvet.
“Yes,” I responded. I didn’t even know if I’d sleep that night.
“You scared?” She inquired again while noting my items on a sheet from my wallet and other items in my bag. I shook my head.
She laughed and said, “I could feel the tension and the fear when you walked in. Don’t worry. We are here to assist you. Want some music, or to read a book? Coffee?” She asked.
I instead asked if she was free and we could story tell. She looked at my hand and read my name tag, “Sunday,”
“So you were born on a Sunday, or are your parents deacons?” She asked, laughing. I couldn’t resist the joke.
Customers queueing at a supermarket in Kenya
File
“No, my dad just loved the name,” I responded as the conversation shifted from the hospital to music, her career and her studies.
We spoke about the weather and coffee. About Chinua Achebe and Ngugi wa Thiong’o to Mayai Waziri wa Maradhi and the 2022 General Election.
She wanted to be a nurse owing to her compassionate personality. Jacinta, 25, was genuinely concerned about her patients. Listen here, whenever you go to a teller at the bank and find that she is good, don’t brag that she was good to you; they are always trained to be so.
“You should now get some rest as your operation is quite early in the morning,” she insisted.
That night my mind wandered. Is it I alone who closes my eyes and can travel back in time years ago? I saw myself sitting next to my dad on an Akamba bus to Nairobi.
Recalled listening to soap operas on KBC Radio at 2 pm and some old-school music.
I woke up to some snacks and fell asleep after inhaling the general anaesthesia. While leaving that evening, I learnt Jacinta proceeded on leave. I didn’t take her number.
In December 2022, I bumped into her at a supermarket along Tom Mboya street as she was shopping for Christmas.
“Jacinta, right?” I stated, quite excited by the occasion.
“Yes, Sunday, right?” She replied. It was good to note that she recalled my name. At that moment, I felt like hugging her.
“How’s your hand?” she asked. I pulled my jacket further up my arm and showed it had healed.
“You know I never had an opportunity to appreciate you for the care you gave me. It was one of the best moments of my life,” I appreciated. Tears welled in her eyes.
But she was more surprised when we walked around and filled two trollies on top of her shopping.
“This is overwhelming. Do you have the cash to pay, or will you leave to withdraw?” She wondered.
“Cash. No need to worry about that. I recently earned a bonus at work, and what other way to use it than to appreciate you?
A customer holding a Co-op Bank Kenya card.
Cooperative Bank
“And no need to queue at ATMs wasting valuable time to access cash. I’ll use my Co-op Bank Visa Card here to pay for shopping and any other needs, fuel, shopping, dining, hotels, online transactions, utilities and many more without withdrawing cash from an ATM.
“And paying for purchases using my debit card is cheaper than withdrawing cash from the ATM, as I avoid the ATM withdrawal charges. I can also get alerts on my mobile phone every time I use my Co-op Bank Visa Card, enabling me to track my spending,” I answered.
She was impressed. “That’s awesome.”
“Ksh 50,000. Cash or card?” the cashier asked. I gave her my card and walked Jacinta to the parking lot where she could take her cab.
“Don’t worry, I added my card to the wallet in the app. It will deduct once you get home,” I stated, opening the back seat door for her.
I also asked what she would do during the holidays, and she was quite free.
“May I get your number, we can meet and exchange stories?” I asked. She smiled.
Discussion about this post