We've all been in situations where we had to trust another human being with our lives or the lives of our loved ones. In a hospital, trusting the doctors and nurses to make the right judgements, and give the right prescription and perform the right procedures. Even in a cab or on a flight, trusting the driver or pilot(s) to get you to your destination safe and sound.
It's a part of life that we cannot do without, but it's the other side of the situation I want to bring light to: when things go wrong.
What happens when trust leads you to harm? When circumstances collectively cause bad things to happen, and not one person can be blamed, or held accountable. When the basis of that all-too common, and often times passive, trust is brought to question.
'How did this happen? What caused it? Who could have prevented it, and why didn't they prevent it?'
These are all questions that can arise when bad things happen, and answering them is often debatable.
The story I tell in this article portrays such a state of affairs. It is based on true events that I witnessed, but I have changed names and places to protect the identity of the people involved, both for legal and security concerns.
James wipes sweat from his forehead, as he struggles to gain, somewhat, control over the ox-driven tiller in front of him. He shouts and curses at his beasts, striking their backs with a whip.
The animals respond well to his messages, and move in a sort of straight, but wavy line towards the other end of the field.
It is around nine in the morning and the heat is already unbearable. It is an unpleasant experience but someone has to do it. Without tilling the land, he will not plant crops, and without planting crops he will not have food to eat.
He lives in rural Zimbabwe and like most of his neighbours, his family's survival depends on subsistence farming. For the past ten years, he has managed to plant and harvest enough food for himself and his family.
For extra income, he works part-time, maintaining the gardens of houses in a middle-density urban settlement, about a hundred kilometres away from his rural house. He commutes and stays there for a few days, and goes home when his work is done.
He doesn't earn much, when one considers the salary of a full-time gardener in the same area. But even those with full-time employment are living well below the poverty datum line, and are considered to be living in poverty.
His earnings are just enough to buy basic goods for his family. Soap, cooking-oil, salt and the like; with just a little left over to cater for his alcoholic needs.
Dust rises up in front of him, as he trails behind the machine. He inhales a good amount of it, but his lungs seem to have developed some level of tolerance, and he doesn't sneeze or cough at all.
Moving around in the field, part of his mind is dealing with the mundane task in front of him, but a larger part is trying to deal with recent developments in his life.
His wife, Ruth, is around nine months pregnant and is due to give birth to their second child any time soon. She's receiving prenatal care at one of the donor-supported hospitals in Zimbabwe, that were founded by church missionaries. They offer cheaper healthcare access to the poorer communities.
He's worried about his wife's health. When she gave birth to their first child, she had prolonged labor, and almost had a Caesarean section performed on her. James was relieved when she delivered, because he did not trust anyone enough to let them put Ruth under the knife.
That gave them quite a scare, and they agreed to not have a baby for a while, until they were adequately prepared for it. Well, they felt ready this time and gave it a shot.
They took extra precautions throughout the nine months of this pregnancy. James sent Ruth to the hospital for check-ups at all the important stages. Monthly visits up to the 28th week, fortnightly from week 28 to week 36, and then the final visit at week 36 where she had to stay at the facility until she gave birth.
No abnormalities were discovered during the regular check-ups and everything seems to be going well.
He does not expect his wife to face any problems with this particular pregnancy.
He finishes the portion of land he wanted to till, and decides to rest. He sits on a rock positioned under a leafy tree, and enjoys a cool breeze blowing on his sweaty body. Thoughts of his wife continue to dominate his mind.
It's her fifth day at the place and he hasn't heard of any complications. He has been talking with Ruth on the phone at least once a day since she went, and she says she's fine, though she complains of frequent headaches.
As he sits and ponders, he hears a small voice calling out to him. His eyes fix on the figure of a young child, running towards him. As the child gets nearer, he recognises that it's Joe, his neighbour's youngest son.
Joe arrives, a cloud of dust following him. His bare feet left countless footsteps on the barren and lifeless ground that constitutes James' yard.
"Joe. What is it?" James asks.
"Your phone. It was ringing," Joe says, stretching out his arm and exposing a small cellphone in his hand.
He is four years old, and stands about three feet tall. He's breathing heavily, his chest moving to the quick and short breaths he's taking. His body is covered with dust; knees and elbows scrapped and bruised from playing with his friends.
James takes the phone and thanks the child, who quickly runs back to his friends.
Anxious to know who had called him, James quickly checks the missed calls on the phone. It's the hospital.
One of the nurses working at the hospital had agreed to convey information on Ruth's condition to him, upon discovering that they were related. She has been updating James from day one of her stay.
The phone is prepaid, and has enough credits to make a call, so James calls the nurse.
Their conversation doesn't last long though, Ruth is in labour, and it seems to be a prolonged one, as she is now in her eighteenth hour.
James is rattled by the news. He wishes that he had heard about his wife going in to labour earlier. It's almost midday, and going back eighteen hours would take you to around sunset the previous day. If they had called him then, he would have gone to the hospital. He would have been with Ruth, giving his support as she went through with it.
He eventually finds no point in complaining over what should have or could have been done, and he focuses on the issue at hand. He needs to get to the hospital, fast.
James fetches some water from his well; just one bucket. He uses it to wash himself, before changing clothes.
In little under thirty minutes, he's dressed and ready to go. He mentally goes over the list of things he needs for the visit and stay. Clothes, blankets, and money, that which he was saving for the past six months or so.
When he's satisfied with his inventory, he leaves his house, and heads for the bus stop along the highway. He stops by his neighbour's house to inform him of the developments, and also to leave a message for his daughter to hear when she comes back from school. James' daughter is six years old, and is enthusiastic about the addition of a new member to the family.
Over the years, she frequently asked her parents why she doesn't have a brother or sister. A question that neither one of them could properly answer. Now that a baby is on the way, she's obsessed with the subject. She even suggested a couple of names they could give to her sibling. To say that she's excited or thrilled is to understate what she is actually experiencing.
James tells his neighbour about Ruth being in labour, and that he's going to the hospital to be with her and assist in any way he can. He also leaves a message for Susan (his daughter), and goes to the bus stop.
He lives in the resettlement areas that are near one of the country's major highways, a trait that is enviable among many other residents because access to transportation is made relatively easier, and access to amenities with it. These areas are still being developed, and their levels of development range from minimal (with only the very basic things required for human survival) to moderate (where living conditions resemble those of urban settlements in small towns). The later end of the spectrum accounts for less than one percent of the total population, with the majority being somewhere in the middle, and a significant sum being in the former end.
He waits for only a few minutes before boarding a ride to a business district nearer to the hospital, where he then takes another ride to get there.
The journey costs him two hours, and he arrives just as the staff are retreating from their lunch break.
He passes by a small group of nurses making light talk, and he recognises one of them. She notices him too and waves at him. Her name is Mandy, and James met her on the first day of Ruth's prenatal visits.
She excuses herself from the group and walks up to James. A quick handshake constitutes the greeting, and the two go right to the heart of the matter.
At this point, anxiety is starting to show on James' face.
"How is she?" he asks, looking into Mandy's eyes as if trying to insist on hearing the truth.
Mandy's face shows concern. She takes a short while to answer his question, constructing an honest, but soft response.
She maintains eye contact with him as she speaks.
"She's in theatre. They're performing a C-section."
His eyes fill up with tears, and Mandy sees it.
"Don't worry. Ruth and the baby will be fine," she says.
"Okay," he manages to say. His response suggests that he has entered a state of deep thought.
Mandy is lost for words. Anything she thinks of saying doesn't seem appropriate and she ends up holding James' hand, repeatedly whispering, "It'll be okay."
James barely changes his state. He squeezes her hand and sighs.
"Thank you," he says.
Mandy gives his hand a gentle squeeze too.
"You're welcome, James."
James clears his throat.
"I need to be alone for a few minutes," he tells her.
"I understand. Go ahead, I'll keep you informed on her status."
Mandy nods her head, let's go of his hand and walks away.
James finds a place to sit, with good shade, provided by the shadow of a big, leafy tree. It's about six hundred feet away from the hospital's main entrance, so it's quite secluded. Just enough for him to get his mind back together.
He reclines on the ground, back supported by an appropriately shaped rock. His eyes look into the sky, observing the clouds as they slowly pass by. Birds in the tree he's under chirp a repetitive, rhythmic tune. It's irritating, but he doesn't pay much attention to it.
His worst fear has just come true, and he is unsure of how to handle it. He's not even sure if he can handle it at all.
This is something that he has been avoiding thoughts on for a while now, and he earnestly hoped and prayed that it wouldn't come to this.
James loves Ruth so much that the thought of her undergoing any kind of medical operation frightens him. He has never fully trusted doctors and nurses, and everyone and everything else in the medical system. His wife often called him ignorant and unappreciative of the benefits of medical knowledge. He would always flout her advice, and seek justification by flaunting his support for natural remedies to cure most of the afflictions that affect the human body.
It's that lack of trust that's affecting him, as he is now required to accept the fact that Ruth's life, and that of the baby, is dependent on the competence of the hospital staff amongst many other factors beyond his control.
He thinks of all the possible outcomes, and his mind naturally drifts toward the negative. He knows that the procedure could go wrong and he could end up losing his wife, or baby, and have nothing left to live for.
Tears flow down his face before he realises it. It is the first time he's cried in a while, and the experience seems quite unfamiliar.
A young child runs by the place he's rested, holding a packet of potato chips. The child looks at James and sees that he's crying. A worried look lingers on the child's face for a short while, before he regains his carefree facial expression, and just runs along.
James doesn't feel embarrassed at all. In fact, he would have been relieved if the child had asked him why he was crying. He would have vented some of his concerns to the child, and relieved himself. He doubts, though, if the child would have understood his situation enough to give him consolation.
He stays under the tree a little while longer, until he eventually decides to meet his fate, go back to the hospital and deal with the situation, in whichever way he can.
He stands up and dusts his clothes off. He has accepted the situation, finally, and now sees things more clearly.
"I'm probably worrying for nothing. The operation might go well and I'll go home in the next few days with my wife and baby."
He makes his way back to the hospital, optimistic and more cheerful, and looks for Mandy as soon as he arrives.
He finds her near the dispensary, and immediately asks how Ruth is doing. What she tells him destroys all the optimism he had. She tells him that there was a complication encountered during the procedure.
"The doctors tried all they could, James, but they couldn't save the baby. Now they're trying to get Ruth back in a stable state, because she has lost a lot of blood."
Mandy's words grip him, and James replays Mandy's words over and over again in his mind. He is overwhelmed, and he doesn't give Mandy a reply. A blank and distant look appears on his face.
Mandy's phone rings, and she answers it. She rejoices at what she hears. Ruth is in a stable state and she asked to see James. Mandy tells this to James, and his face comes alive again.
They both go to the yard where Ruth is, to see her. James enters the room first, and he locks eyes with her as soon as his head gets into the room. He walks to her bed, scanning his wife's face, vigilantly. He notices an expression on her face, one that he knows well. She's suppressing a lot of pain inside her, both physical and emotional, and she's desperately in need of someone to throw it at and relieve herself.
James reaches for her hands and holds them, and kisses his wife's forehead.
"I, lost, her, James," Ruth says in between sobs.
"I lost her," she adds, before breaking out into tears.
At this point, James is already crying, with tears streaming down his cheeks. He doesn't say a word, but he just squeezes and caresses Ruth's hands in an attempt to comfort her. No combination of words seems right to say.
The two seemingly fall into a trance, and just cry.
Mandy is heartbroken. She has seen many scenarios such as these, and yet she's not the least bit jaded. No matter how many times she sees these unfortunate occurrences, they always get to her, and she often finds herself mourning with the affected. This time is no different, if not more painful because of her close relationship with the family.
Ruth is devastated. She lost the baby that she had been carrying for the past nine months. The one she had been praying for, and hoping for. The one that would have given so much joy to the family, and fulfil Susan's dream of having a younger sibling. All those expectations have been shattered, and she's left with only scars to show for her efforts. She feels defeated.
James feels betrayed. All the trust he has placed in the hospital and its staff was not enough to save his baby. The trust he placed in giving it another try has proven to be useless, harmful and not in the least bit rewarding.
A nurse enters the room, holding a file with paper sheets in it. She walks past Mandy, as she heads to the bed where James and Ruth are at, but stops halfway as though she had just realised something. She turns around and goes back to where Mandy is standing.
"I think it is best if you tell them," she says, handing Mandy the file.
Mandy reads the contents of the file, and involuntarily frowns. What she has to tell the couple is not something she wants to be the bearer of. She manages to find the energy to do so anyway.
She walks up to them, and the two, who saw the other nurse's actions, give her their full attention, curious to know what is going on.
Not wanting the experience to last longer than necessary, she decides to be blunt in her approach.
"I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, but Ruth's blood test results came, and she tested positive for HIV."
Ruth's jaw drops, and a low, almost whispering voice comes out.
"But how?"
She looks to her husband in search of a similar state of shock, but finds on his face the look of guilt that she has become so accustomed to over the years.
"I don't believe this?" she says, "I trusted you, James."
James doesn't respond.
"You told me that you would never cheat on me again. You lied to me."
Ruth is now crying and struggling to get her words out clearly.
Still no response from James.
"Get away from me! I don't want to see you near me ever again!"
Ruth swiftly turns her head away, and cries and screams into a pillow on her bed. James turns around and walks away, head bowed; and Mandy dashes to Ruth to comfort her.
- THE END -
Trust. Hard to gain, but even harder to regain once lost.
By cheating on his wife, James destroyed all trust she had in him; and in this case Ruth's trust in James has brought her harm.
Upon further investigations in an effort to gain clarity, James found out some disturbing facts.
He discovered that the hospital was facing a serious shortage of supplies, and as a result, it didn't have most of the necessary medication required to ensure safe childbirth.
It also didn't have accurate and reliable tools to check things like blood pressure of its patients.
Apart from all these discoveries, there was the fact that the doctor who performed Ruth's operation had a bad record of casualties, and was not trusted by many.
The lack of drugs and adequate equipment can be blamed on corruption or something else; and the doctor's poor reputation can be blamed on poor working conditions or incompetence on his part. All in all, these problems are related; one creates and exacerbates the other, and it is unclear where the real blame lies.
To victims like James and Ruth, their entire trust system has been debased, and prospects of them rebuilding it are obscure. Failure in trust caused by incompetence is more easily forgiven than that caused by a lack of honesty.
There is no sure way to avoid bad situations such as these. To trust is human, and it is essential to a healthy and happy existence.
This article is not meant to discourage trust at all. Trust does deliver good results, if placed rightly. It is just bringing attention to the negative paths that failures in trust can lead us on; and ask the question:
"Can trust be trusted?"
It's a part of life that we cannot do without, but it's the other side of the situation I want to bring light to: when things go wrong.
What happens when trust leads you to harm? When circumstances collectively cause bad things to happen, and not one person can be blamed, or held accountable. When the basis of that all-too common, and often times passive, trust is brought to question.
'How did this happen? What caused it? Who could have prevented it, and why didn't they prevent it?'
These are all questions that can arise when bad things happen, and answering them is often debatable.
The story I tell in this article portrays such a state of affairs. It is based on true events that I witnessed, but I have changed names and places to protect the identity of the people involved, both for legal and security concerns.
James wipes sweat from his forehead, as he struggles to gain, somewhat, control over the ox-driven tiller in front of him. He shouts and curses at his beasts, striking their backs with a whip.
The animals respond well to his messages, and move in a sort of straight, but wavy line towards the other end of the field.
It is around nine in the morning and the heat is already unbearable. It is an unpleasant experience but someone has to do it. Without tilling the land, he will not plant crops, and without planting crops he will not have food to eat.
He lives in rural Zimbabwe and like most of his neighbours, his family's survival depends on subsistence farming. For the past ten years, he has managed to plant and harvest enough food for himself and his family.
For extra income, he works part-time, maintaining the gardens of houses in a middle-density urban settlement, about a hundred kilometres away from his rural house. He commutes and stays there for a few days, and goes home when his work is done.
He doesn't earn much, when one considers the salary of a full-time gardener in the same area. But even those with full-time employment are living well below the poverty datum line, and are considered to be living in poverty.
His earnings are just enough to buy basic goods for his family. Soap, cooking-oil, salt and the like; with just a little left over to cater for his alcoholic needs.
Dust rises up in front of him, as he trails behind the machine. He inhales a good amount of it, but his lungs seem to have developed some level of tolerance, and he doesn't sneeze or cough at all.
Moving around in the field, part of his mind is dealing with the mundane task in front of him, but a larger part is trying to deal with recent developments in his life.
His wife, Ruth, is around nine months pregnant and is due to give birth to their second child any time soon. She's receiving prenatal care at one of the donor-supported hospitals in Zimbabwe, that were founded by church missionaries. They offer cheaper healthcare access to the poorer communities.
He's worried about his wife's health. When she gave birth to their first child, she had prolonged labor, and almost had a Caesarean section performed on her. James was relieved when she delivered, because he did not trust anyone enough to let them put Ruth under the knife.
That gave them quite a scare, and they agreed to not have a baby for a while, until they were adequately prepared for it. Well, they felt ready this time and gave it a shot.
They took extra precautions throughout the nine months of this pregnancy. James sent Ruth to the hospital for check-ups at all the important stages. Monthly visits up to the 28th week, fortnightly from week 28 to week 36, and then the final visit at week 36 where she had to stay at the facility until she gave birth.
No abnormalities were discovered during the regular check-ups and everything seems to be going well.
He does not expect his wife to face any problems with this particular pregnancy.
He finishes the portion of land he wanted to till, and decides to rest. He sits on a rock positioned under a leafy tree, and enjoys a cool breeze blowing on his sweaty body. Thoughts of his wife continue to dominate his mind.
It's her fifth day at the place and he hasn't heard of any complications. He has been talking with Ruth on the phone at least once a day since she went, and she says she's fine, though she complains of frequent headaches.
As he sits and ponders, he hears a small voice calling out to him. His eyes fix on the figure of a young child, running towards him. As the child gets nearer, he recognises that it's Joe, his neighbour's youngest son.
Joe arrives, a cloud of dust following him. His bare feet left countless footsteps on the barren and lifeless ground that constitutes James' yard.
"Joe. What is it?" James asks.
"Your phone. It was ringing," Joe says, stretching out his arm and exposing a small cellphone in his hand.
He is four years old, and stands about three feet tall. He's breathing heavily, his chest moving to the quick and short breaths he's taking. His body is covered with dust; knees and elbows scrapped and bruised from playing with his friends.
James takes the phone and thanks the child, who quickly runs back to his friends.
Anxious to know who had called him, James quickly checks the missed calls on the phone. It's the hospital.
One of the nurses working at the hospital had agreed to convey information on Ruth's condition to him, upon discovering that they were related. She has been updating James from day one of her stay.
The phone is prepaid, and has enough credits to make a call, so James calls the nurse.
Their conversation doesn't last long though, Ruth is in labour, and it seems to be a prolonged one, as she is now in her eighteenth hour.
James is rattled by the news. He wishes that he had heard about his wife going in to labour earlier. It's almost midday, and going back eighteen hours would take you to around sunset the previous day. If they had called him then, he would have gone to the hospital. He would have been with Ruth, giving his support as she went through with it.
He eventually finds no point in complaining over what should have or could have been done, and he focuses on the issue at hand. He needs to get to the hospital, fast.
James fetches some water from his well; just one bucket. He uses it to wash himself, before changing clothes.
In little under thirty minutes, he's dressed and ready to go. He mentally goes over the list of things he needs for the visit and stay. Clothes, blankets, and money, that which he was saving for the past six months or so.
When he's satisfied with his inventory, he leaves his house, and heads for the bus stop along the highway. He stops by his neighbour's house to inform him of the developments, and also to leave a message for his daughter to hear when she comes back from school. James' daughter is six years old, and is enthusiastic about the addition of a new member to the family.
Over the years, she frequently asked her parents why she doesn't have a brother or sister. A question that neither one of them could properly answer. Now that a baby is on the way, she's obsessed with the subject. She even suggested a couple of names they could give to her sibling. To say that she's excited or thrilled is to understate what she is actually experiencing.
James tells his neighbour about Ruth being in labour, and that he's going to the hospital to be with her and assist in any way he can. He also leaves a message for Susan (his daughter), and goes to the bus stop.
He lives in the resettlement areas that are near one of the country's major highways, a trait that is enviable among many other residents because access to transportation is made relatively easier, and access to amenities with it. These areas are still being developed, and their levels of development range from minimal (with only the very basic things required for human survival) to moderate (where living conditions resemble those of urban settlements in small towns). The later end of the spectrum accounts for less than one percent of the total population, with the majority being somewhere in the middle, and a significant sum being in the former end.
He waits for only a few minutes before boarding a ride to a business district nearer to the hospital, where he then takes another ride to get there.
The journey costs him two hours, and he arrives just as the staff are retreating from their lunch break.
He passes by a small group of nurses making light talk, and he recognises one of them. She notices him too and waves at him. Her name is Mandy, and James met her on the first day of Ruth's prenatal visits.
She excuses herself from the group and walks up to James. A quick handshake constitutes the greeting, and the two go right to the heart of the matter.
At this point, anxiety is starting to show on James' face.
"How is she?" he asks, looking into Mandy's eyes as if trying to insist on hearing the truth.
Mandy's face shows concern. She takes a short while to answer his question, constructing an honest, but soft response.
She maintains eye contact with him as she speaks.
"She's in theatre. They're performing a C-section."
His eyes fill up with tears, and Mandy sees it.
"Don't worry. Ruth and the baby will be fine," she says.
"Okay," he manages to say. His response suggests that he has entered a state of deep thought.
Mandy is lost for words. Anything she thinks of saying doesn't seem appropriate and she ends up holding James' hand, repeatedly whispering, "It'll be okay."
James barely changes his state. He squeezes her hand and sighs.
"Thank you," he says.
Mandy gives his hand a gentle squeeze too.
"You're welcome, James."
James clears his throat.
"I need to be alone for a few minutes," he tells her.
"I understand. Go ahead, I'll keep you informed on her status."
Mandy nods her head, let's go of his hand and walks away.
James finds a place to sit, with good shade, provided by the shadow of a big, leafy tree. It's about six hundred feet away from the hospital's main entrance, so it's quite secluded. Just enough for him to get his mind back together.
He reclines on the ground, back supported by an appropriately shaped rock. His eyes look into the sky, observing the clouds as they slowly pass by. Birds in the tree he's under chirp a repetitive, rhythmic tune. It's irritating, but he doesn't pay much attention to it.
His worst fear has just come true, and he is unsure of how to handle it. He's not even sure if he can handle it at all.
This is something that he has been avoiding thoughts on for a while now, and he earnestly hoped and prayed that it wouldn't come to this.
James loves Ruth so much that the thought of her undergoing any kind of medical operation frightens him. He has never fully trusted doctors and nurses, and everyone and everything else in the medical system. His wife often called him ignorant and unappreciative of the benefits of medical knowledge. He would always flout her advice, and seek justification by flaunting his support for natural remedies to cure most of the afflictions that affect the human body.
It's that lack of trust that's affecting him, as he is now required to accept the fact that Ruth's life, and that of the baby, is dependent on the competence of the hospital staff amongst many other factors beyond his control.
He thinks of all the possible outcomes, and his mind naturally drifts toward the negative. He knows that the procedure could go wrong and he could end up losing his wife, or baby, and have nothing left to live for.
Tears flow down his face before he realises it. It is the first time he's cried in a while, and the experience seems quite unfamiliar.
A young child runs by the place he's rested, holding a packet of potato chips. The child looks at James and sees that he's crying. A worried look lingers on the child's face for a short while, before he regains his carefree facial expression, and just runs along.
James doesn't feel embarrassed at all. In fact, he would have been relieved if the child had asked him why he was crying. He would have vented some of his concerns to the child, and relieved himself. He doubts, though, if the child would have understood his situation enough to give him consolation.
He stays under the tree a little while longer, until he eventually decides to meet his fate, go back to the hospital and deal with the situation, in whichever way he can.
He stands up and dusts his clothes off. He has accepted the situation, finally, and now sees things more clearly.
"I'm probably worrying for nothing. The operation might go well and I'll go home in the next few days with my wife and baby."
He makes his way back to the hospital, optimistic and more cheerful, and looks for Mandy as soon as he arrives.
He finds her near the dispensary, and immediately asks how Ruth is doing. What she tells him destroys all the optimism he had. She tells him that there was a complication encountered during the procedure.
"The doctors tried all they could, James, but they couldn't save the baby. Now they're trying to get Ruth back in a stable state, because she has lost a lot of blood."
Mandy's words grip him, and James replays Mandy's words over and over again in his mind. He is overwhelmed, and he doesn't give Mandy a reply. A blank and distant look appears on his face.
Mandy's phone rings, and she answers it. She rejoices at what she hears. Ruth is in a stable state and she asked to see James. Mandy tells this to James, and his face comes alive again.
They both go to the yard where Ruth is, to see her. James enters the room first, and he locks eyes with her as soon as his head gets into the room. He walks to her bed, scanning his wife's face, vigilantly. He notices an expression on her face, one that he knows well. She's suppressing a lot of pain inside her, both physical and emotional, and she's desperately in need of someone to throw it at and relieve herself.
James reaches for her hands and holds them, and kisses his wife's forehead.
"I, lost, her, James," Ruth says in between sobs.
"I lost her," she adds, before breaking out into tears.
At this point, James is already crying, with tears streaming down his cheeks. He doesn't say a word, but he just squeezes and caresses Ruth's hands in an attempt to comfort her. No combination of words seems right to say.
The two seemingly fall into a trance, and just cry.
Mandy is heartbroken. She has seen many scenarios such as these, and yet she's not the least bit jaded. No matter how many times she sees these unfortunate occurrences, they always get to her, and she often finds herself mourning with the affected. This time is no different, if not more painful because of her close relationship with the family.
Ruth is devastated. She lost the baby that she had been carrying for the past nine months. The one she had been praying for, and hoping for. The one that would have given so much joy to the family, and fulfil Susan's dream of having a younger sibling. All those expectations have been shattered, and she's left with only scars to show for her efforts. She feels defeated.
James feels betrayed. All the trust he has placed in the hospital and its staff was not enough to save his baby. The trust he placed in giving it another try has proven to be useless, harmful and not in the least bit rewarding.
A nurse enters the room, holding a file with paper sheets in it. She walks past Mandy, as she heads to the bed where James and Ruth are at, but stops halfway as though she had just realised something. She turns around and goes back to where Mandy is standing.
"I think it is best if you tell them," she says, handing Mandy the file.
Mandy reads the contents of the file, and involuntarily frowns. What she has to tell the couple is not something she wants to be the bearer of. She manages to find the energy to do so anyway.
She walks up to them, and the two, who saw the other nurse's actions, give her their full attention, curious to know what is going on.
Not wanting the experience to last longer than necessary, she decides to be blunt in her approach.
"I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, but Ruth's blood test results came, and she tested positive for HIV."
Ruth's jaw drops, and a low, almost whispering voice comes out.
"But how?"
She looks to her husband in search of a similar state of shock, but finds on his face the look of guilt that she has become so accustomed to over the years.
"I don't believe this?" she says, "I trusted you, James."
James doesn't respond.
"You told me that you would never cheat on me again. You lied to me."
Ruth is now crying and struggling to get her words out clearly.
Still no response from James.
"Get away from me! I don't want to see you near me ever again!"
Ruth swiftly turns her head away, and cries and screams into a pillow on her bed. James turns around and walks away, head bowed; and Mandy dashes to Ruth to comfort her.
- THE END -
Trust. Hard to gain, but even harder to regain once lost.
By cheating on his wife, James destroyed all trust she had in him; and in this case Ruth's trust in James has brought her harm.
Upon further investigations in an effort to gain clarity, James found out some disturbing facts.
He discovered that the hospital was facing a serious shortage of supplies, and as a result, it didn't have most of the necessary medication required to ensure safe childbirth.
It also didn't have accurate and reliable tools to check things like blood pressure of its patients.
Apart from all these discoveries, there was the fact that the doctor who performed Ruth's operation had a bad record of casualties, and was not trusted by many.
The lack of drugs and adequate equipment can be blamed on corruption or something else; and the doctor's poor reputation can be blamed on poor working conditions or incompetence on his part. All in all, these problems are related; one creates and exacerbates the other, and it is unclear where the real blame lies.
To victims like James and Ruth, their entire trust system has been debased, and prospects of them rebuilding it are obscure. Failure in trust caused by incompetence is more easily forgiven than that caused by a lack of honesty.
There is no sure way to avoid bad situations such as these. To trust is human, and it is essential to a healthy and happy existence.
This article is not meant to discourage trust at all. Trust does deliver good results, if placed rightly. It is just bringing attention to the negative paths that failures in trust can lead us on; and ask the question:
"Can trust be trusted?"
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