A night in hospital with my dear sister

Never written from a hospital before, it’s my first time. And I’m scared, a lot! And equally, never written at such a time before.

It’s 02:15 and I’m seated in the reception area of this hospital, Mater, that my sister — if you have been with me from when I was starting out, then you already know the one I’m talking of — has been going to for the past few months. I’m uninterestingly watching CNN discuss the Putin-Trump summit (honestly, Americans should impeach that guy they call president) on this TV that’s placed high on the wall, almost close to the white ceiling.

On my right is a pharmacy with lots of small brown bags on the counter, obviously awaiting collection. Behind the counter is a somehow young lady, almost like my age mate in a white dust coat.

On my left is a registration desk with a young guy in huge glasses, and his ID hanging down his neck. He looked quite busy behind monitors. Behind where I’m seated, on this matching green and black plastic — some, like the one I’m seated on have leather casing — chairs, is Denni, my brother-in-law’s younger brother. Just like everyone else, he is so quiet, only staring at the TV with some sort of anger, almost like he’s blaming it for losing sleep.

Behind the door… A woman that was stretched on the chairs at the wall, covered from the head to the toe with a maasai shuka, has just woken up. So behind the door, on the corridor leading to the place they took my sister to, is my brother-in-law pacing up and down. He’s so stressed he can hardly sit down. He’s just stopped the third nurse to enquire on the progress in the emergency room, and it’s barely twenty minutes since we’ve been here.

Well, let this hardworking Kenyan man mopping the floor with this long handled mop and a purple bucket he keeps pushing with his feet, move away and then I tell you why I’m writing from the hospital. He has just told me to move over to the other side where there is this stout man with only a shirt, and with all this July weather!

Okay! We’re here, in Mater Hospital –an expensive hospital I must say — because my sister who is four month pregnant (so I’ve been told), started bleeding, profusely. No one knows what triggered it. We are waiting for some answers!

We rushed her here, thank God the hospital isn’t that far from where we stay. She kept crying all the way, and how scared I was! Never seen my sister cry that much, except one time, when Naomi died back in 2015.

Here in a past photo, doing what she does best, “talking”, beside her husband and my cousin William

I know it was not just because of the pain she was undergoing, the reason she was crying, it was obviously for the fear of losing her baby. Only God knows how she has wanted a baby! The first two pregnancies have ended with premature miscarriages that have left her so bitter, and more desperate. The whole of our family has been concerned, always praying to God to remember her like He did to Sarah and Hannah, in the Bible. We knew when it’s God’s time, she will finally get a child (I know I shouldn’t be telling you guys this! Please promise to keep it to yourselves).

Then I came to learn of her pregnancy –seems in the whole family I was the last one to be told — the other time she spend the night here and I was so excited, so was she, and so was the whole family. And then here we are!

Read The tired Kenyan young man and see the last time my sister was here, and if you want to know her, then read No longer followers or subscribers, just family.

Just hope my sister will be alright, and her baby too! Please pray for her, please pray for us!

It’s 04:04 and still nothing. What’s going on in there! God!

(let me ask that receptionist for the vital WiFi password)

19 thoughts on “A night in hospital with my dear sister

  1. How is your sister??? I pray to God that she is okay and that the baby is okay, too!!! The Lord will bless your sister and your family. I know He will! I pray for you, my friend and my brother. I pray also for your sister!!!

    Liked by 2 people

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.