Mending Broken Hearts

27. A Plea

May 2020

Madiha

Omar: Be careful coming into work today and make sure you have your badge on you. 

That was the text message I received as I finished my breakfast on what was supposed to be my first day back at work after having COVID.  

Me: Why?

My phone pinged with a news article. 

May 31. After downtown Chicago protests, unrest spreads to suburbs. Associated Press. Mayor Lori Lightfoot, who ordered an indefinite nightly 9 p.m. curfew, said the Illinois National Guard had been requested to help keep order. She said access to the central business district would be restricted to only essential workers and people who live there. Public transportation was temporarily suspended, major streets blocked with sanitation trucks and Chicago River drawbridges allowing traffic into downtown remained lifted.

Stuck in my apartment with nothing to do other than consume the never ending news cycle, I was aware of the horrors unfolding in the world outside. But how close the unrest that followed was to home, had just hit me now. 

Another text followed soon after. 

Omar: On second thought, I don't think you should walk to work alone. I'll be done in two hour with my overnight shift. I'll come and get you. 

I appreciated his concern. My usual twenty minute walk to work went right through the streets that this article mentioned as being the hardest hit with protests and police-protester skirmishes. Yet, my own shift started in an hour. I simply couldn't wait for Omar. 

Me: Don't worry, I'll keep my head down and walk fast. 

Even as I typed that message I knew what his reply would be. It was just yesterday when he had brought over some food and insisted that I get out of my apartment to take a walk outside. I barely made it around the corner from my building before needing to take a break.  The deconditioning after COVID was no joke. 

Omar: You know you won't be able to walk fast. Let me see if Uber or Lyft are available. 

Of course, they weren't. No one was allowed to come in or go out from the downtown area unless you lived or worked here. So, with 45 minutes left till my shift started, I only had one option. 

Me: I'll just walk. Don't worry about me. No one's out rioting at 7 am. 

Omar: I don't like this. But fine keep your phone with you and text me as soon as you get here. 

I couldn't help smiling at his concern for me. Even his text messages had a way of filling me warmth. And I had every intention of texting him when I reached work, just like he asked. I even hoped that I could take a quick break before my own rounds started and catch him before he left for the day. Thank him for his unwavering support as I recovered from the worst viral illness I had ever had. 

Yet, I forgot all about that the moment I stepped off the elevators in my apartment building. 

Omar

Don't worry about me.

I shook my head while I finishing up the notes for patients I had been seeing in the ER all night. How could I not worry about her? First, while she might not have needed hospital admission for COVID it had obviously hit her hard. If it hadn't been for the severe staff shortage and patient surge at the hospital I would insist that she take some extra days off. But she was out of the isolation period, therefore required to come back to work. Fully recovered or not.