“Aah!.” “Aah!.” Do it slowly. She wanted to touch it. Hold it. She was wailing. Low tone. Don’t hit it too hard. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t .!”. She felt it inside her. She wanted to hold her breasts. That confusion between what to do and not to do because the pain was sweet. Because the part you’re feeling the pain gives it a sweet feeling.

She wanted to hold both breast together. The pain was too much. Holding her breast is her gathering the pieces of the pain together. Instead of the pain spreading.

I hit it again with the edges. “Aah!”. Another low tone. “I haven’t hit the spot. I’m just hitting the edges.!”. “But it’s painful..!”. Each dab had her screaming for something. For something she didn’t want but didn’t mind dying for it. It was as though she had endured too much pain and it was too much for her. She wanted to hold me. A whole confusion. Or scramble the bed linen. Don’t touch me. It was different with that woman with the burns. She yelled at me. She cursed me. Even with fentanyl she could still feel everything…

“You’re so wicked. The last person wasn’t this wicked. He was slow with it. She led me breathe in between. Look at what you’re doing to me. ? You don’t have any sympathy? You’re so wicked. So wicked.! “. She threw words at me.

“I’ll do it slowly this time. But just let me do it. “ This woman was in pain. Burns. How would you feel letting someone scrub your bare inner skin with the pretext of dressing the wound for you?.! The bed linen had shifted to one side. She turned her back against me. As though what I wanted to do for her doesn’t matter. As though I’m insensitive for the pain she was going through. Her loin clothe had almost had her revealing everything. The legs were father apart. She quickly held the clothe together and covered it. The meat in the thighs with the pinkish inside but the dark hairy covering. “Mummy! you have given birth. Your daughter is right outside . You have nothing to cover. The place isn’t a sacred place you think.”. I thought in my mind and hoping that shame of me seeing what I needed not to see.

The shame of seeing what was meant to be her privacy. Something that was hers to know who she needs and has the power to give it to for him to invade.

“ Didn’t you give her any analgesic before the dressing?!”. The doctor on rounds yelled. He too couldn’t contain the wailing. “ I gave her fentanyl..!”. Something thrice the effect of Morphine. I gave her analgesic. “That’s how she always behaves!”. The RN intercepted angrily. She too was standing on her feet too long. We were wasting time on this woman too much. I was sweating. It’s pain but I don’t know whether it was a phantom one. But you could visibly tell it was real pain because the entire skin had peeled off. “I’ll dab it for her. Not the “guy guy” dab. The dabbing Sister Selakpi taught us in basic nursing class. Or it was advanced nursing?.

Time had passed fast she wouldn’t even remember the student she once taught. The student had become a nurse and is applying her techniques to heal people.

This woman’s pain was different. She had a different threshold to pain. A threshold that could make you imagine the beauty of pain.

She reacted to pain like she wanted more of pain.

“Do you need plaster?!”. IC came at the tail end of the dressing.

“Thank you sister . I’ve even removed my gloves already. I had torn the plaster already.“