The Life of Myra - Chapter 1

The phone rings, jerking me awake in a cruel manner. For a moment, I am completely disoriented, not sure whether it's night or day. The orange sunlight streaming in from the gaps in the blinds indicates it is twilight. I squint my eyes against the setting sun as the sun rays land directly on my eyes while the curtains sway in the breeze.

The phone continues ringing harshly and I fumble around to find it. It falls silent by the time I actually grasp it from beneath the sofa on which I had been fast asleep.

6:30 pm!

Oh shit! My shift began at 4 pm. I was supposed to relieve Rasika by 2! She needed to meet her fiance, and he had a flight to catch in the evening.

There are thirteen missed calls!

Rasika must be outraged at my no-show. And being the on-call nurse in the City General Hospital, there is no way she could leave unless someone relieved her!

I check the call log, panic rising. The first ten calls are from her, the last one being at 3 30 pm.

The next three are from Rosy. Did Rosy manage to relieve her?

I don't know what reason to give them. Because there is none. I just dozed off. And didn't wake up.

With a trembling hand, I call Rosy back.

"What the heck Myra! You were supposed to relieve Rasika! Where the hell are you?" She asks, without any pleasantries, obviously.

"I-I - I am so sorry Rosy. My car broke down and I had to..."

"Please. Don't you start giving those bull shit excuses. It's always something that breaks down, isn't it? If your car broke down, you could have simply called her and informed. Or at least received one of hers! You are just..." I can hear her furious breathing as she falls short of words to describe how hopeless I am.

"Rosy," I say guiltily, "just give me twenty minutes. I will relieve you."

"You bloody do that. Because now it's officially your shift. And I have been awake all night doing my duty. If it had not been Rasika begging me to relieve her, I would be at home, sleeping peacefully. But thanks to you .." and she disconnects the call, fuming.

I understand her anger. I would be angrier had I been in her place.

And I know she has caught my lie. But still, I feel the need to lie. Because I simply can't get myself to tell anyone that I suffer from insomnia, that makes me so sleepy the next day that I just can't control it.

I quickly get up, splash water on my face, and without even wiping my face, head towards the bedroom to get changed.

Half an hour later, I relieve Rosy from her duty. She is still very cross and doesn't even make eye contact. I don't try to awaken the lioness again. I have had enough on the phone. So I don’t mind.

My work in the ICU keeps me busy - Mr. Verma on bed no. 2 needs an antibiotic shot, Mrs. Nath on bed no. 5 needs a new intracath, Mr. Desai on bed no. 11 needs a dressing change, Mr. Anand on bed no. 20 needs an ENT reference - and I am left with absolutely no time to think.

At sharp 9 pm, Dr. Shantanu Singh comes for his evening rounds.

Dr. Singh is a brilliant physician, and he carries the aura which very few clinicians command. His residents and us, the nurses in charge, are on our toes, as he examines each patient in detail, listening in rapt attention to every small detail his resident says as he or she presents the case summary, eyes closed, and then bombards us with questions, bringing us up to date on the condition of the patient, and what needs to be done next.

His rounds are exhausting for us, more so mentally than physically. And by 10:15 pm, when I finally get a breather to take a break for dinner, I realize I still have loads of work to do before my shift ends at 11 pm.

Samidha, my colleague from the surgical ICU is having dinner in the pantry. I open my sandwich which I had ordered from the cafeteria long back when I came to the hospital and is now cold from the high air conditioning.

"I thought you gave your shift a skip," she says, and I wonder how fast word spreads.

"I was late," I say, taking a bite of the rubbery sandwich. I don't elaborate.

I know what she will think. I know what everyone here will think.

They all think that I am mentally unstable. Especially after what happened.

And probably, to some extent, I am. In fact, I ask, who is not? It's just that some are visibly disturbed while others are invisibly. But each one of us is mentally disturbed. To some extent.

It is true that I had hit rock bottom when my boyfriend of two years, Anish, broke up with me a week before our scheduled wedding. I have been into a dark place, I agree. But now I think I am moving on. It's been just six months, but I am holding myself. I am getting there.

But people won't let me be. They don't let me forget what happened. I see sympathy in their eyes. And that makes me angrier.

And they judge me for each and everything. I just don't understand why my life is such a rut.

"Hey, Myra. How are you?"

I turn around to spot Saloni. She is my only friend around here, who cares for me in the true sense. Seeing her makes me emotionally vulnerable. The tears I seem to be forever holding back during my pretense of normalcy in front of other people seem to threaten to burst when she is with me.

"Not so good," I say, avoiding eye contact, as she sits across me, concern in her brown eyes.

"What's the matter?" She asks, giving my hand a squeeze.

"I overslept and missed my shift today. Not just that, I didn't relieve Rasika earlier as I had promised her. Rosy had to come to relieve her after her own night duty. I feel terrible," I say, as my vision blurs from the liquid film that has clouded my eyes.

"It's okay. Things like these happen. Not all days are the same, Myra. Some are sunny, some are rainy. Doesn't mean each day is going to be bad," she says softly.

I nod. She is clearly just trying to make me feel better.

"Why did Anish leave me, Saloni? Why did he do that?" I ask her, tears now flowing down my cheeks like a tap let loose.

"He didn't leave you. You left him. You left him because he was a cheating, lying son of a bitch," she says, anger in her voice.

I nod. I am not really sure anymore. What exactly happened? Why did we really part ways? Was it something that was brewing since a long time? And I had been so lost in the bliss I believed myself to be in that I was blind to what was actually happening to my relationship?

"Anyway, I got to go. But call me at night if you feel like talking. Okay?" Saloni says, getting up.

"Yes, thanks," I say.

I finish the sandwich that I have been ruminating since long and get up to leave. I feel much better after talking to Saloni. It always feels better when I let those trapped tears out.

My shift ends at 11 pm and I am home by quarter to 12. As usual, I am not sleepy at all. I roam around my small apartment wondering what to do. Is this going to be another night that I stay awake the whole night long?