Thursday, 19 December 2019

lost in translation

A very nervous me picks up the phone which I know is from the hospital.

'hello'

'hello'

'Your MRI reports are with us. We would like to book you for the operation' the voice cooly says.

Meanwhile, I can feel the ground shifting away from under my feet. My heart now lodged in my throat I utter some monosyllabic gibberish.

'What ?' I finally gurgle.

'The voice is cheerful. 'When can I book you for the operation? Your MRI reports are here'

 'Why?' I choke. 'What do the reports say?'

'I don't know. The doctor can tell you.' the voice sounds puzzled.

'Then why?' I spurt out. 'Why do I need an operation?'

A long pause.

'I'm sorry. Appointment, not operation. My English isn't good' the voice says.

'Oh well. That.' I try to not wince as I bash my leg on the table as I whooped with some relief. 'I can meet the doctor immediately and get it over with.'

Short pause.

'The orthopaedic doctor is only available on Monday after 2 pm' the voice says nonchalantly.

I feel myself wanting to fling my phone into the abyss. 'If he's only available every Monday then why did you ask when I'd like to book the appointment?' I whisper into the speaker.

'What did you say? my English isn't very good' she repeated.

'Monday is alright at 2 in the afternoon' I said a bit wearily and thanked her for heaven knows what before hanging up.




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