Dr. Ogbe sat across the desk staring tentatively at the opened file in front of him. Sat across him was Mrs Ajewole who had been silently waiting for him to break the awkward silence that had enveloped the large, white themed office since she entered. He looked sullen and she could see a certain amount of hurt in his eyes to deduce that he wasn’t about to tell her something especially pleasant.
“I’m sorry madam, but we’ll have to take your husband off the life support.” He raised his head to guage her reaction and continued.
“We’ve done everything medically possible To revive him but he had not been responding to treatments. If anything, I think his situation is stuck at a very critical state.”
Mrs Ajewole kept fighting the urge to break down and kept her trembling hands clasped. She was dumbfounded and couldn’t find words to speak. She stared ahead into the empty space between her and the doctor. The thoughts of her once happy and able husband playing in her head.
“I still don’t understand how this came to be because there was no complication during the procedure and I sincerely haven’t witnessed anyone going into a coma after a successful organ transfer before,” he continued.
The doctor stood up and made his way across the desk. He placed his hand on her shoulder and she rested her swollen face on it.
“I’m so sorry, but that’s the best we can do for him right now. I don’t think he’s coming back. After 60 days of no improvement, it’s best to just let him sleep on.”
Mrs Adewole bat her swollen eyes at the doctor and gave into the massive agony that had been building up in her for the past month. She wept uncontrollably.
“I believe he’ll come around. Please, let’s give him more time. He’ll wake up. He can’t just leave me here, alone,” she said, amidst intermittent tears.
“Madam, I understand your need to have faith and believe he’ll wake up. But at this moment, it’s not medically possible. Like I mentioned earlier, I really don’t know what made him comatose and it actually borders on being strange. If you insist though, I’ll be glad to recommend a colleague but I’m sure he’ll give you a similar assessment.”
“I’ll have to discus it with the members of his extended family. I can’t make this decision alone.” Mrs Ajewole said amidst long melancholic sighs.
Ada woke up to the slow, alluring sound of rhythm and blues blaring softly from you-know-who’s room with a seductive blend of heart pounding base blast. She smiled secretly and noted that it was well past 8am in the morning. The night had breezed past and she still felt the sleep she had was inadequate but what a way to be awakened on a slow Sunday morning.
She rolled to the far end of the bed as is her usual fetish ritual to savour the cold and dry part of the bed her warm body didn’t touch all night. It would be unfair if any part of the bed didn’t get to romance her warm, sweaty body- her excuse. Satisfied that she had infected the whole bed with her essence, she yanked off the pink duvet revealing her favorite blue silky camisole complete with the pink ribboned lacy thong. She yawned loudly and laughed at her own silliness.
“How am I supposed to resist this boy today?!” A wicked smirk formed around her face.
The worms in her stomach went into an anarchical revolt and mutiny; deciding right then, at her moment of unaided fantasy to mutilate the inner layers of her stomach. The hunger pang shocked her out of her sexual reverie and she scanned the room for her bag.
“I should have a wrap of chocolate somewhere in there.”