What if?

Hello, everybody. It's actually the first time that I will publish one of my stories here in my blog. I will be happy if you share your opinion about it.


What if?


            As humans we have common questions embedded into our minds, one of the most frequent ones is: what if? What if I didn’t go on that date? What if I didn’t kiss that guy? Or girl? Or both? The history of humanity knows many “whatifs”. We also have a very beautiful, not quite logical story about first humans: Adam and Eve. They ate the fruit of knowledge of good and evil in the Garden of Eden, which they were specifically told not to eat by God himself. Why did they do it? Out of stubbornness? Pure enjoyment of doing something that you are told not to do? I wonder, after they were expelled from the Garden and eternal life, did Eve ask herself: “What could have happened if I never bit that damn apple? What if I never listened to the Serpent?” Or was she happy that now her life had an end and this way she could enjoy every day of her life more and cherish every moment of it? Was she scared when she was dying? Or was she happy because she knew for sure that there was life after death? Many questions can roll in your head like balls on a snooker table. For a big part of them you will never get a strict answer. I think we accept better the reality we live in, when we are happy. Once things go wrong, we drive ourselves crazy with regrets.


         Miranda knew herself very well, she needed comfort, stability, porridge for breakfast, thank you very much, an umbrella in her hand when it rains, a small, easy to drive car and a job as a nurse in Central Hospital in Toronto. Her day started very early, she woke up at 5, brushed her teeth, did some yoga exercises, took a shower, made a hair bun. She got dressed, as usual, every detail of her look was perfect: a pair of jeans, a white shirt, a pair of sneakers, a carefully packed uniform that smelled of geranium.


       Almost every day faces of her patients changed, she rarely felt anything, it was just her work routine. She made injections almost without pain for those ones who were receiving them. She carefully checked the lists with all the needed medicaments. She could feed the weak and say a few much-needed words of support with a soft, warm voice. She could even hold a hand if that was necessary. Miranda didn’t let herself become attached to anyone or anything.


      If you looked at her from across the hall, you would notice red hair, big brown eyes, a small nose, pink lips, neither big, nor small.


     This Tuesday was supposed to be a usual Tuesday – in a row of usual Tuesdays. A patient with a life-threatening condition was brought in. She was screaming and yelling, and crying and begging the doctors to do something. The doctors made a diagnosis according to her medical history. Emma had end-stage renal disease. Her husband arrived with her and by the sad look on his face it was clear how much he suffered seeing her in pain. Miranda couldn’t stop staring at him for a minute or two. The guy was too handsome, tall, brown-skinned, long, sensitive fingers. He seemed lost and yet determined. He told the doctors that if he was a match, he would give one of his kidneys to his wife. Doctor Shwarz took him to make all the necessary tests to another part of the building. Miranda was asked to put in a Foley catheter.


   Just after the moment she finished inserting it, another man came in to see Emma. He looked much younger than her. A very pale baby face and the hands with long pianist’s fingers. The tension between the two of them fulfilled the room. They were looking at each other without saying anything. Miranda felt that they wanted to talk in private, but there was something suspicious in their behavior, she got out and hid behind the door. 


 “I don’t want to lose you. What’s going to happen to me, if you die?” (sobs) – the young man said.


“Don’t worry, Harry. Baby, I won’t die, Nickolas is going to give me his kidney and I’m going to be just fine. (a quiet, crooked voice) And once I’m fine, I’m gonna tell him everything about us and leave.” – Miranda heard quiet Emma’s voice.


“No, you won’t. You kept promising for 3 years already and you never did. Why should I believe you now?” – he almost screamed.


“This time I KNOW. I feel it because I can die without even have lived with you under the same roof. And that’s all I want: to be with you.”


     Miranda felt tears coming out of her eyes. She ran to the nearest washroom, locked herself in and cried. She couldn’t stay there forever, she went to check other patients’ conditions, did injections, changed diapers, fed them. Even more lost inside of herself than usual. Emma’s betrayal brought flashbacks that she wished to forget. She locked all the memories in the darkest corner of her head. Now all of this was coming back to her. An e-mail that Alex sent by mistake to her with a wrong name in the beginning, the correspondence that she found and all the nasty descriptions that were never meant to be read by her…


     She met Nickolas on her way out, he was shining like a glare on the water, all his tests were fine, he could donate his kidney to Emma. The operation was scheduled for tomorrow morning. He was so emotional that he even hugged her. Miranda could barely speak. She couldn’t intervene. Work ethics.


     She wrapped herself up in a coat. It didn’t make her feel any warmer. Tears were slowly sliding on her cheeks again. Miranda found a wrinkled apple in a pocket of her coat. She felt the rage pulsating in her temples. She started to shake with all her body. She took a fruit, once forbidden, and threw it with all the rage at the wall of the hospital.

Did she have to tell him the truth? Wasn’t it right for him to know the situation? What would have happened if she told him?


     After a week of careful consideration, Miranda resigned her post at Central Hospital in Toronto.