She Is My Hayaat

Chapter 4: Mr. Khan

Beep. Beep. I pulled out my pager from my scrub pocket and it read "Room 326 PER." I accepted the message and put it back in my pocket, making my way from the geriatric ward to the pediatric emergency room. As I was walking towards the room, I pulled the chart from outside the door and quickly read through. First, I checked the name, date of birth/age, and gender. Afterwards, I checked any medical history that would be important to the patient's condition. Sahar Khan. 5 years old. Female. No medical conditions. So she was Muslim.

I knocked on the door, making my way into the room. There was a little girl sitting upright on the bed, someone talking to her. I couldn't make out his face since his back was facing towards me. "Excuse me," I gently said.

"Yes," the man answered huskily.

He turned his head towards me, holding the little girl's hand. His eyes filled with worry. His eyes. It was him! I gasped, "You?"

"Umm, hey there," he said back awkwardly.

I quickly composed myself. Rule number one in healthcare: professional and personal lives were to be kept separate at all times, no matter who the patient may be.

I lowered my gaze and shuffled towards Sahar. I smiled at her, all the while Mr. Armani Suit and iPhone kept his eyes on my hands and me. "Hello, I'm your nurse today. You're Sahar right?" I asked.

"Hi! Yeah. And you are.... Nouran?" she asked skeptically as she read my nametag. 

For some reason I did not feel comfortable with her saying my name out loud in front of him no matter whom he was of hers.

"Yes," I nodded my head towards her.

"That's a very pretty name," she smiled.

"Why thank you, so is yours," I told her.

As I started checking her vital signs and assessed the two big cuts on her elbows and split open knees, I noticed him still staring at me.

"If you don't mind me asking, may I know what your relation to Sahar is for legal purposes?" I asked.

Before he could answer, Sahar chirpily said, "This is my uncle! He was with me when I fell off my bicycle. He was trying to teach me. We haven't told Mama yet because she would get scared and cry for me and Daddy's on a business trip."

We both stared at her, shocked to see her not crying or fussing over her wounds unlike normal five year olds. She was mature for her age and taking things calmly. Well, it made my life a lot easier when they were willing to cooperate!

"I see. There are some papers you need to fill outside by the main desk," I told him without looking right at him. 

When he didn't make a noise or any move to get up, I finally looked up. His cerulean blue eyes tinged with hazel around the edges looked frightened to leave his niece alone.

I actually felt bad for him in that moment, "I promise she's going to be fine. I'm just going to clean up the wounds and then the doctor will prescribe her some medication. And then she can go home. Sahar is fine, nothing dangerous. She's safe with me," I softly said.

Sahar looked back and forth between me and her uncle, "Izhar Mamu, I'm fine. Ms. Nouran is going to take care of me. Right?" she asked looking back at me. She was absolutely adorable, loose curls framing her round pink cheeks and her eyes just like her uncle's.

"Right," I nodded back.

Sahar patted his cheek and he gave her a smile. He got up from the chair he was sitting in and gave Sahar a kiss on her head saying, "I'll be right back."