Mid-April 2020

Omar

Madi and I were finally assigned to the same COVID unit. I had barely been able to spend time with her lately. And the anticipation of the day I finally got to be near her again was killing me. I had heard that distance makes the heart grow fonder. But if the heart is already beating for someone else, distance makes the heart ache with unimaginable agony.

Today was going to be the first of seven days that I got to work with her. Even if it was in full personal protective gear, and the only thing I could see were her gorgeous eyes, I was ok with just being able to spend a whole week in her presence.

When I got to work she was already in the ICU, enclosed by a glass wall. Her back was towards me, but I knew that it was her. That thick hair pulled back neatly in a ponytail, and her confident posture was unmistakable. But there were so many other people with her in that enclosure. There were other interns, residents, fellows, attendings, even a man in glasses who looked really familiar and was holding a computer, and another older gentleman in black trousers and a crisp blue shirt. Everyone was crowding around her. Each person trying to ask her for something, trying to get her to do something for them.

I looked around to see where the opening of that glass enclosure was, but I couldn't find it. I walked up and down around the glass wall but there was no door, or decontamination hatch. How was I supposed to get in there? How did everyone else get in there? When I looked up the crowd of people had gotten bigger and I could barely see her.

There was no intercom, or speaker through which I could call her. So, I knocked loudly on the glass wall.

"Madi...Madi...let me in. Please...I am supposed to be there with you..."

But she did not hear me. I could hear the noise inside the glass enclosure, I could even make out her sweet voice. But she couldn't hear me and her back was still towards me.

So I knocked louder, and cried out on the top of my lungs, "Madi...turn around. I am outside, please let me in"

Then suddenly everyone else disappeared. And Madi turned around slowly, her beautiful eyes, framed by those long eyelashes looked at me. I couldn't see her face under her mask, but I could tell she was smiling at me. She held my gaze for a few seconds but then looked down at a patient's chart that had COVID POSITIVE written in bold letters.

That's when I realized there were holes in her N95. Large, gaping holes that were expanding quickly, and were now in her gown and gloves and her white coat.

I frantically banged my fist on the glass wall, and yelled "Madi...stop. Your protective gear is compromised"

But she didn't hear me, she didn't even look up at me again. She just turned towards the patient's room, opened the door and entered the darkness in that room. And then she was gone.

I screamed after her till my voice was hoarse.

"Madi...don't go in there, you'll get the virus"

"Madi...please, please listen to me"

"Madi...come back to me"

"I love you...please don't leave me"

That's when my eyes flew open and I found myself in my bed, drenched in sweat and out of breath. Still repeating Madi's name, as if she had placed a spell on me.

It was just a dream, a nightmare...that wasn't real. She was still mine...

Or was she?

I got off the bed slowly and walked to my bedroom's window. Normally, Chicago downtown's night lights would be streaming inside my room. Today, it seemed to be pitch black outside, just like the darkness that Madi had stepped into and never returned from. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cold glass of the window.

This wasn't the first time I had this nightmare, but it was the most vivid one. My heart was still racing, but my breathing had calmed down a bit. I looked at my bedside clock, it was 4:30 am. The sun wouldn't rise for another 2 hours but there was no way I could go back to sleep again. Even if I did, that nightmare would be back again to torment me.

I walked into the kitchen to get myself a glass of water, and looked around at the mess revealed by the light from the open fridge. Empty take-out containers, paper plates and believe-it-or-not disposable coffee mugs littered the kitchen and living room area. I wasn't a sloppy person, I may have spent almost a decade on my own as a bachelor but I liked having a clean space around me.

But lately, I had just felt like giving up. On everything. Myself, my work, my family, my friends...everyone, except her. Thoughts of her were the only thing that had kept me going.

Even though she wouldn't officially become the chief resident till July 1, everyone was so stretched right now that the she had taken over some of the duties of the outgoing chief residents. And so every morning we would get an email from her with COVID related updates for the day.

And every morning, seeing Dr Madiha Ahmed pop up on my phone at 7 am sharp, was the only reason I got out of bed. She would always add a motivational quote at the end of the COVID news, and reading those quotes was almost like an addiction now. Those emails weren't even for me specifically, they were for the whole residency program. But they were a reminder that she was out there. And that would add enough fuel to my smoldering fire to last me another day.

I grabbed a garbage bag and started picking up all the trash. I still hoped that this would be her home one day. She would be so disappointed in me if she saw me living like this. I had to fix myself somehow, but the doom and gloom in the world that surrounded me, made it next to impossible to do that.

Having faith in a Being who was larger than us mere humans helped. The realization that nothing was really under our control had dawned on many of us in the medical field. We were all trying our best, and the science was progressing at breakneck speed. Every day new COVID-related discoveries were being made, including in my own lab. But every day we were also humbled by how relatively healthy people would end up losing their lives, while others miraculously recovered after weeks of being at death's doorstep.

After clearing up I said my prayers, praying for Madi's safety, and that of Salman and Noor and their young baby. And for my sister who was pregnant in the middle of a pandemic. I even prayed for my parents. That they would see the light, and the error in their ways.

Sleep was long gone by now, so I decided to go out for a walk even though there was still almost an hour left till sunrise. Chicago's streets were never this deserted, but with the pandemic everything seemed suspended in a moment in time. Even the air felt empty and devoid of oxygen.

A few minutes later I found myself on a bridge over the Chicago river. The walkway was illuminated by dim lamp posts and the mist that was settling on the bridge made it look like a scene straight out of a small town in an English classic novel. But the backdrop of the high-rise buildings that used to be lit up no matter what time of the day, and now were almost completely dark, was a stark reminder of what this sprawling urban city had been reduced to.

I looked down at the gently flowing water of the river, and saw a warped reflection of myself in it. And for a minute I wondered what it would feel like to lay still at the bottom of that river. And if anyone would even care if I just disappeared into those waters. My life was not important to anyone I knew. Even her...she didn't really need me. I was the one who desperately needed her. Maybe if I disappeared it would make her life a whole lot easier.

Her words were repeating themselves in my head.

"We have no future"

"Stop fighting for us"

"We are a dead end"

And then I remembered the day I was leaving the hospital and I saw her sitting with another man with glasses, working on a computer. She had called me over to the bench they were sitting on. He was the Faraz, that she had mentioned when she had come into my lab. And they were working on a telemedicine project together. But when she introduced me to him, she simply said,

"This is Omar. He is an intern with me"

That had felt like a dagger at the time, because she was right. Without being able to get married, we were just a resident and an intern.

And she would be better off without me.

These intense feelings of hopelessness were new to me. But I also recognized them as coming from a deep, dark place full of despair and self-destruction. If I went any deeper, I may not be able to come back. So, I stepped back from the edge of the bridge and sat on a nearby bench and took my phone out.

It was only 6 am, another hour till Madi's 7 am email with COVID updates. But I didn't know if I could last that long, or if that would be enough for me today. I needed her now. I needed the reassurance that I hadn't lost her, or was going to lose her, and I needed to know that she had not given up on us.

I pulled up her text messages, that had become few and far between. And the last ones were only about work, just like they would be between an intern and a resident. I could feel the lump in my throat grow, and the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach become worse.

Before I could stop myself I had dialled her number and she almost immediately picked up.

"Omar?", I heard a sleepy voice that had become a lifeline for me.

"Madi...", my voice came out hoarse and almost a whisper, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything else. She already had so many things to deal with, the last thing she needed was me burdening her with my poor mental health.

A dog barked near me, startling me and a woman said, "Sorry about that..." as she pulled on the dog's leash.

"Where are you?", Madi's voice came through my phone.

"On a bridge..."

There was silence for a few seconds, but then she asked, "Which bridge?"

"The one on Michigan Avenue, over the Chicago River", I replied, barely able to get those words out.

"I'll be there in 10 minutes, don't go anywhere...", and then she hung up.

Rays of sunshine had started to penetrate the darkness around me now, literally speaking. But 10 minutes later when I saw Madi walking towards me on that bridge, it really did feel like the darkness within me was giving way to a new dawn.

She was wearing a plain white t-shirt and pink and white checkered pajamas. A beige shawl was draped over her shoulders, and her curly hair flowed down her back. She gave me a tired smile as she sat down on the other end of the bench maintaining a pandemic appropriate distance between us.

"What are you doing here?", she asked me in a soft voice.

"I couldn't sleep..."

"I couldn't either...", she smiled at me again, leaning back on the bench.

We sat in silence for a few seconds, both looking across the bridge as the sun started to appear across the horizon.

"Omar, did something else happen too? You sounded really disturbed on the phone...", she looked at me with concern.

Her voice was so sincere, that despite the urge to not lay my problems on her I couldn't help but confess, "I had a nightmare..."

And then I told her all about it, and about how I was so afraid that I would lose her to someone else, or the pandemic or just that she would realize that I had nothing to offer her.

She listened to me quietly. There was no pity in her eyes, just warmth and compassion that had comforted me even before I finished speaking.

When I did finish, she said in a hushed voice, "Omar...I am right here, I couldn't leave you even if I wanted to"

She paused, but then took a deep breath and continued, "I am sorry that it seemed like I was giving up on us. I was just trying to protect myself and my family. But the truth is...I don't know how to live a life without you in it"

That was music to my ears, the words that I had desperately needed to hear. But I still needed to be sure that she understood this wasn't going to be easy.

"Madi...are you sure? It feels like the world is conspiring against us"

"I am, Omar...I know this isn't going to be easy, but then I think about our patients whose lives are turned completely upside down by this pandemic. And I have to be thankful that we have each other, and that we are healthy and are not losing our jobs or at risk of becoming homeless in the middle of a pandemic. Omar, we have a lot to be thankful for...if you think about it. Even if we can't get married right now"

Tears were pooling in my eyes, and I couldn't stop them. I didn't know why exactly. Maybe it was the realization that against all odds this amazing woman, who somehow always saw the good in every situation, was willing to stick it through with me.

She must have noticed the tears, because she leaned over and gently wiped them away with her thumb, and whispered, "We'll be ok"

I had never felt this vulnerable before, but she had made me open up my soul to her. And there was no one else in the world that I could trust my soul with, other than her.

I was still basking in the warmth of her touch, when she said in a small, almost shy voice, "I told my sister about you..."

Well, that's new...

Did that mean she was willing to talk to her parents about us too?

Before I could ask that, she answered, "I wanted to talk to my parents too, but my dad has been really stressed lately. The car dealership he works at has been laying off people everyday and he is really concerned that he will lose his job too. I just thought, it was best to not lay this on him as well right now. With everything shut down, it's not like we can have a wedding right now anyway"

Fair enough...this is a step closer to where we were two weeks ago

"How did your sister take it?"

"Oh, she already knew", Madi rolled her eyes, "She saw you dropping me off after that train incident, and ever since she met you in the ER she hasn't stopped bugging me"

I laughed, "Aah that explains why she asked me if I drove a Porsche. I already like your sister. Speaking of which...I want you to meet mine too. She is pregnant and not really leaving the house right now, but maybe we can have a virtual meeting or something. She keeps bugging me about you too"

"I'd love that", she said, flashing her dazzling smile at me.

We chatted a bit more after that, including about the telemedicine project she was doing with her sister's brother-in-law.

"Tell me again, why Faraz couldn't just have done an online meeting with you?", I asked Madi. I wasn't trying to restrict her, but meeting in-person under the current circumstances was very odd to me.

"Are you pretending to be jealous again? Because you sure were quick to volunteer to work with us", she laughed and gave me a side-eye.

"No...I am not jealous, but that doesn't mean I trust that guy", there was just something about the way he kept taking her name that didn't sit right with me.

"And of course I volunteered...I wasn't going to let him work with you all alone!"

She just laughed and shook her head, and went on to tell me more about her chief resident duties. Half an hour later we had talked about everything we could think of; from the fact that even though we were very busy with COVID right now, things were likely to get worse based on data from other countries, to netflix movies that were a must-watch.

"I have an idea...", Madi exclaimed, "I don't know how often we'll actually be able to meet, especially with the peak of COVID cases yet to come, but why don't we pick out one day every week and watch a movie together on zoom? And we can order out and eat at our own homes...it'll be fun!"

I had to laugh out loudly at her enthusiasm, "Dr Ahmed, are you trying to go out on an online date with me?"

That made her blush, a deep, adorable shade of pink, "No...no...this is just something friends do. Kylie and I planned to do something similar as well!"

"I was joking...I'm in, but I am not pretending to be just a friend", I grinned at her.

"Fine...", she smiled back at me, as the sun's rays reflected off her brown irises adding a delectable hue of honey-gold to her already captivating eyes.

In that moment, I couldn't help but agree with her. I had so much to be thankful for.

This was a stressful time for everyone, no matter the profession. Within the medical field, there was unprecedented levels of burnout and by all indications, this was just the start of the pandemic. Most of us had gone into this field to help people, to ease their suffering and to practice evidence based medicine.

None of us were prepared to give the amount of bad news that we had to give to our patients and their families on a daily basis. That feeling of helplessness was enough to break anyone. But not everyone had someone to lean on in this time of crisis.

So, I really should be thankful that I had Madi, who was willing to come to a bridge in her pajamas, early in the morning...when I found myself in a state that I would not wish on anyone.

She was my sunshine, and I vowed to never let her down.

"I should go...I have to email out that 7 am COVID update", Madi said, as she got up from the bench. There were a few more people crossing the bridge now, but most looked like they were in scrubs or the uniform of some other essential workforce.

I thanked her for coming, and was about to say goodbye, when she started to blush again.

"Can I tell you something cheesy...I don't know if you actually read my COVID update emails"

"Of course, I do. Some days that email is the only thing that gets me through the day", I answered her truthfully.

"I am glad to hear that...because those motivational quotes at the end of the email, are for you. I always think of you when I put them in there", she said softly.

God, I love this woman

"Thanks Madi...I really mean it, I can't thank you enough for everything..."

"I could say the same to you, Omar"

With that we said goodbye for real this time and headed towards the opposite ends of the bridge. I couldn't wait for the day that 'home' would mean the same address for both of us. But for now, I would just have to hold on to the knowledge that Madi hadn't given up on me...or us.

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