The Writer's Forum

I sit quietly on my bed, smiling to myself. The big day is coming, and I can’t help but feel excited. Footsteps echo in the hall, gradually getting louder, and I turn towards the direction of my room’s door, waiting for a doctor to walk through it. One does.

“Good evening, Miss Tidwell.”

“Good evening, Doctor Cohen,” I greet back with a wide smile at the familiar deep voice. I don’t have to be acquainted well with him to know that he is a kind-hearted soul. “How was your sleep last night? Pleasant? What about your day?”

I know from experience that the life of a doctor is never easy. They have to be alert at all times, and their phones have to stay turned on in case there is an emergency. I was a physician before I was admitted to the hospital.

“Oh, you won’t believe me. I had the greatest night’s sleep ever,” Doctor Cohen chuckles, and I laugh with him. “I hope you slept well too. My day was okay.”

“I did,” I say, and stop at that, not knowing what to say.

“Your parents are coming in a few days,” Doctor Cohen says almost uncertainly, but I understand his worries. “Are you feeling nervous?”

Again, I laugh. I laugh at the ambiguous question thrown at me. However, I know for a fact, that the answer is the same for both.

“Yes, I am,” I nod a little. “You know them. They’re probably going to blame me for everything again. Good thing my health insurance covers this.”

I have never been on good terms with my parents. They always see me as someone who wastes their money unnecessarily, and they were elated when I came home with the news of my acceptance in a university abroad. My brother was the one devastated at the news, but he wasn’t allowed to come with me.

“Your brother is coming too,” Doctor Cohen adds quickly, and I hear slight rustling. “He will be here before you undergo the operation. Your parents will come after.”

“That’s good,” I say, pausing for a while to remind myself what has happened during the past seven years.

I came to Oxford to study medicine, and I had to spend six years because I hadn’t had any degree at that time. I applied at a nearby hospital afterwards, and worked there for approximately a year before this happened.

What is this?

This is a blindness caused by untreated glaucoma. I had been wearing glasses all my life, and I used many magnifying tools to help me in my studies. My parents never brought me to see an ophthalmologist, because, as they’ve said, it cost too much for them. Apparently, for them, spending money on glasses for you is already considered wasting money.

I didn’t know anything about my eye disease until a friend of mine who worked in the hospital introduced me to his friend, who works as an ophthalmologist. That was Doctor Cohen. He diagnosed me with the disease, but it was too late. The next few weeks were spent on finding matching corneas for me.

Now, they have found them, and I will undergo two operations; one to decrease the pressure in my eyes, and the other to replace the corneas in my eyes.

“Do you know when exactly my brother will come?” I ask softly, not wanting to raise my hopes up too high. The operation is in a day, and it will be done at night.

“He will come here tomorrow morning,” Doctor Cohen pats my shoulder, and I nod gratefully at him. “What do you want to see first after the operation?”

I grin at him, and I know he is grinning too. He’s just as playful as I am.

“I want to see two things I haven’t seen for a very long time,” I say, tapping my chin thoughtfully. “I want to see my brother, and the rising sun.”

“As you wish,” Doctor Cohen holds my hand and squeezes it gently, as if giving courage. I squeeze his hand back, wanting to convey my gratefulness for everything that he has done for me. “I will visit you again tomorrow morning, and night. Good night.”

“Yes, good night,” I agree, and as soon as I hear the door click behind him, I let myself fall onto my bed, and drift off to sleep.

I jolt awake the next day when I hear a voice close to my ear. A voice I have been dying to hear these past few years.

“Ray?” I call out as I turn to the source of the noise. “Ray, is that you?”

“Yes, Lenne, it’s me,” Ray says, and I reach my hand forward to touch his face. He still looks the same. Exactly the same as the last time I touched him.

“My baby… come here,” I choke out, motioning at him to come closer, and pulling him into a tight embrace. “I have missed you so, so much. You don’t know how happy I am, now that you’re here.”

“I know, sis,” Ray mumbles softly as he hugs me back. “And don’t cry. It’ll add pressure to your eyes.”

I laugh at his chiding tone, and nod. “Whatever my baby brother wants,” I tease, knowing he hates it when I call him a baby. Our ages differ by eight years, and that’s why he will always be my little baby brother.

“Your operation is tonight, right?” Ray asks as he holds my hand in his. “I have told Father and Mother that I will take care of you. They are not coming.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” I say, and Ray squeezes my hand playfully, a soft chortle escaping his lips.

“Don’t say that,” he comments, and tugs at my hand. “Do you want to head out for lunch with me?”

“May I?” I inquire, turning to where I suppose Doctor Cohen is.

“As long as you stay in the hospital area,” Doctor Cohen agrees, and I smile gratefully at him. “I will meet you here at about seven. The operation will commence then.”

“I’ll be there,” I say quickly when I hear the door open, and turn back to Ray. “So what are you going to do now?”

“I’ll accompany you throughout this day,” Ray answers simply. “I want you to be strong for the operation.”

“Yes,” I agree uncertainly. I know there is something he’s hiding from me, because he doesn’t usually talk like that.

The rest of the day went like a blur to me. I was suddenly on the bed in the operating room, and the next thing I knew, I was back in my own room, finished with the operation.

“You said you want to see the rising sun,” Ray says as he pushes my wheelchair, and I nod as I lean back, letting him take me there. “Be careful not to stare right into it, though. It may hurt.”

“I know.”

He stops pushing my chair, and rest his elbow on the handles, leaning forward to rest his chin on top of my head.

“You know, Father and Mother love you. A lot,” he starts, stroking my hair. “That’s why they sent you here. They were the ones who did everything, so that you could get a scholarship here.”

“Really?” I ask in surprise. I really did not expect that. “Why would they do that?”

“Because they know the problem with your eyes, and they don’t trust the ophthalmologist back in our hometown. Did you know that Father’s vision was impaired by him?” Ray asks, and I hear him walk around me to sit on something.

“I didn’t,” I say truthfully.

“Of course you wouldn’t. They don’t tell anyone about it,” Ray chuckles. “I only knew by accident that time, when you were already here.”

I suddenly feel bad. Why did I feel contempt for them, when all they did was fight for the best for me? Because of them, I was able to meet Doctor Cohen, a trustworthy ophthalmologist, and regain my vision.

“They insisted to come here, to check up on you right after the operation,” Ray says, and turns to me, his hand rising to take off the cloth covering my eyes. “They are afraid of the heights, Lenne, but they are willing to confront their own fears for you.”

If I am not so concerned about adding extra pressure to my eyes, I would have cried them out.

“I snuck here without their knowledge, and promised to take care of you so they can rest easy there,” Ray finishes, and I feel nothing covering my eyes now. “You can open your eyes now, Lenne. The sun is going to rise any second.”

“Show them that what they have done is not in vain.”

I slowly open my eyes, and I could feel the glare of sunlight. We are on top of a small hill at the back of the hospital, overlooking a valley far away, where the sun rises.

I watch the sun rise in awe. I have not seen such a spectacular view for a long time so clearly.

“It’s beautiful,” I say with a wide smile, the corner of my eyes welled up with tears. “It’s so beautiful.”

“That’s right,” Ray nods, and turns over to look at me as I do the same. “It’s beautiful, just like you. Do you think you can forgive Father and Mother, and go back to being their beautiful little daughter?”

I look back at the rising sun, and somewhere at the back of my mind, the answer exists. “Yes, I can and I will.”

Ray nods approvingly, and we watch the rising sun in silence. The rising sun that not only marks the start of a new day, but also the start of a new life for me.