Episode 35 : Vexation
Zawaq woke up from his sleep. It had been a week since he stayed at his parents' house. Zawaq was discharged from the hospital the day after, before fully resting at his parents' home.
Zawaq came downstairs to the kitchen in the morning. Without being asked, he helped his parents prepare breakfast.
"How are you?" asked Zawaq's father.
"I'm fine. Just bored since being relieved from my duties as a scientist," replied Zawaq, placing plates and food on the dining table.
"We received a letter. It seems to be official business," said his father, pointing to a letter on the shoe cabinet near the entrance.
Zawaq took the envelope and read it.
"I got a job offer at the public hospital as an assistant doctor in the physiology department," said Zawaq.
"What's the salary?" asked Zawaq's mother.
"It says here, $800 a month with a $700 allowance," explained Zawaq.
"Wow, the allowance is almost as much as the salary," remarked his father.
"When do you start?" asked his mother.
"Next Monday," replied Zawaq.
"I have a house in the city. You can use it since it's near your workplace," suggested his father.
"That works. Thank you. I just need transportation," said Zawaq.
"You can take the bus to work. We'll take you to the city this afternoon," said his mother.
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A few months later, Zawaq was tasked with supervising a soldier undergoing physiological tests to determine if he could return to duty or take extended leave.
The soldier limped while holding onto a railing. Zawaq observed him attentively.
"I'm bored, doctor. All I do is practice walking," said the soldier, sweating as he struggled to stand.
"You need to push yourself to train your lower body nerves, especially your legs. Luckily, the bullet fragments didn't sever your spinal nerves completely," said Zawaq.
"I wish surgery could make me walk immediately," said the soldier irritably.
"That's impossible," replied Zawaq.
"Doctor, release me from service. I need to rest," pleaded the soldier.
"No problem. I'll report that you're still unable to walk normally, let alone work, but you're still required to undergo physical therapy. Don't rely solely on the wheelchair," advised Zawaq.
"Are we still at war?" asked Zawaq.
"Yes, Saudi Arabia is attacking our country again. We must defend it," said the soldier as Zawaq helped him into his wheelchair.
"But you don't want to return to duty?" asked Zawaq.
"My absence won't change anything. We'll still win against Saudi Arabia like before," the soldier explained.
"I once worked in a military base. There was a road accident, and I lost my memory of my time there," Zawaq shared.
"An accident? There hasn't been any road accident near the military base except on the way to Palestine. So far, no road accidents have been reported, except rumors about a betrayal by one of our soldiers. I think it was either a medical officer or a regular doctor working at the base," explained the soldier.
"Maybe my accident wasn't serious enough to be widely known. I might have been the only one badly injured," replied Zawaq.
"Check your medical records at the hospital. They should have details," suggested the soldier.
"Good idea. I'll check when I have time," said Zawaq.
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At the hospital's main counter, Zawaq met a male nurse assistant.
"I'd like to see my medical records," said Zawaq.
"Sure, doctor. What's your name?" asked the assistant.
"Zawaq, son of Nas," replied Zawaq.
The assistant entered the medical records storage room, searching for files under "Z."
Shortly after, he returned to the counter.
"There's a record, but it's sparse. Most of it states no significant illness," explained the assistant.
"I was discharged from this hospital a few months ago due to an accident that caused amnesia," Zawaq explained.
"Where was the accident? Did the treating doctor provide a diagnosis?" asked the assistant.
"Near a military base by the border," said Zawaq.
"Oh, since you worked at a military base, your medical records would've been transferred there. It's rare for us to make copies for public hospitals. You'll need to visit the military base to retrieve them," explained the assistant.
"Alright, thank you. I'll handle it," said Zawaq.
"No problem, doctor," replied the assistant.
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In the meeting room, where medical doctors gathered, the department head presented a new work schedule.
"Zawaq, starting next week, you'll be diagnosing patients and covering emergency ward duties," explained the department head.
"Understood, sir," replied Zawaq.
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On his first day in the emergency ward, Zawaq treated many Israhell soldiers as military hospitals and clinics were full due to the war. He worked tirelessly, treating severely injured Israhell soldiers.
After a week of hard work, Zawaq returned home, a house provided by his father, located near the hospital and accessible by bus. This time, he arrived by taxi. Entering the house, Zawaq cleaned himself and washed his face with antibacterial soap. Staring into the bathroom mirror, he reflected on his work.
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At work, Zawaq had unknowingly worked nonstop for four days, treating countless severely injured Israhell soldiers.
"Zawaq, come here!" demanded the emergency ward head, an elderly woman.
"Yes, ma'am. Did I make a mistake? I'm sorry," said Zawaq.
"No, Zawaq. You've been working nonstop for four days. I haven't seen you rest, eat, or sleep. Take a break now, or you'll end up a patient like our soldiers!" she insisted.
"Understood, ma'am. I'll comply," replied Zawaq.