Chapter 2 Two

Stuck in traffic, Kambili wondered why exactly Dr. Fred wanted to meet with her. Was the hospital hiring? She didn't know what to expect. Still, she was hopeful. She just kept a positive mind.

Her Toyota Camry purred into the hospital compound as she drove into the parking lot to park the brown lousy vehicle.

Stepping out of the car, she made a short prayer for God to bless her day. Putting on a brilliant smile, she began to elegantly walk into the hospital building. She graced herself with motivation, as she repeated words of affirmation in her head.

'I'm strong and I'm bold. I attract good things.

It was her way of staying focused and determined whenever she felt unsettled.

"Good morning. I'm here to see Doctor Fred," she said to the receptionist in the lobby when she walked in.

"Okay, one second, please," the fair, beautiful lady said to her before making a call. The lady had a beautiful jawline and small slender fingers that clung to the telephone. Her light red lipstick was light but pronounced. Kambili admired the time taken by the lady to line her full brows.

"You may go in; he's expecting you," the lady said to her, and Kambili nodded her head still wearing a smile before walking away towards the elevator.

She pressed the elevator button, causing the doors to slide apart as she walked in. Dr. Fred's office was located on the fifth floor of the building. Her heart raced with anticipation as the elevator engine roared softly.

What if the doctor just wanted to see her? He didn't exactly state any reason why he wanted to see her.

The elevator came to a stop and slid open. Kambili stepped out and began walking through the corridors towards her destination.

When she got to the doctor's office, she knocked before opening the door.

"Good morning, doctor," she greeted the doctor the moment she walked into the office.

With a smile, Dr. Fred looked up at her from his computer and gestured for her to sit down.

"Thank you, sir," she said before sitting down.

"How are you Kambili?" The white-haired man asked her placing his pen on his table as he peered at Kambili through his glasses.

"I'm fine" she replied honestly hoping he went straight to the point.

The doctor cleared his throat and peeled off the silver reading glasses from his face. Then he looked at her.

"One of my clients requires a personal doctor," he said to her. "He needs serious medical care regarding his diet"

He mentioned how he thought she was the best one for his patient.

"This is the address; you'll meet him there." Doctor Fred said and handed her a small piece of paper. "Make sure not to be late. He hates lateness. You can get his file from the attendant. File number 3"

Of course, she didn't plan to be late.

"Thank you so much, sir." She examined the address on the piece of paper: "God bless you, sir." She said, almost kneeling to thank the man.

"It's fine, Kambili. I trust you'll be good," the doctor said with a smile. Of course, he did trust Kambili. She was one of his brightest students when he taught her. And he had a little relationship with her father. He knew she was capable of taking care of just anyone.

"Thanks again, sir," Kambili said, beaming from ear to ear. The happiness she felt wasn't explainable. It was a joy out of this world. She wanted to scream out in joy but ended up computing herself as she walked out of the hospital.

***********************

Michael Adedeji wasn't the type to joke about his health or anything that concerned his comfortable livelihood. He hated discomfort as much as he hated cockroaches. He feared sickness and it was that fear that drove him to the doctor every once in a month for a proper check-up, and never for once had he missed any appointments.

"Is something wrong with me?" He asked the doctor, feeling a bit worried as fear clouded his thoughts.

"I'm afraid, yes. But I've run a few tests that will be ready very soon," the doctor said, going across the table to sit down. "But how do you feel?"

"I don't know, doctor. Except I'm very sure I don't like it. It's been keeping me from working well these past days." There was a portion of frustration laced in his face.

"Well, you just wait here; I'm coming." Then the doctor left to get his test results.

Michael never liked anything that had to do with getting sick; that was the reason he took his monthly checkup way too seriously. It always felt very uncomfortable and gave him feelings as though he would die. He didn't enjoy any moments spent in a hospital.

Minutes later, the doctor returned to the room with a piece of paper, which he attempted to give Michael.

"You can explain to me what it says," Michael said, looking sternly at the paper and refusing to take it.

"You have Crohn's disease."

There was a short silence as Michael tried to understand the doctor's words. Though he couldn't and didn't.

"What does that even mean?" He asked, unable to accept that something was wrong with him.

"It's an inflammatory disease that causes chronic inflammation of the GI tract, which extends from your stomach, all the way down to your anus," the doctor explained.

"What the... so why is that?" He asked

"I can't say. But do you still smoke?"

"You know I do and have for the longest time. Besides, it's just weed." Michael sniffed and adjusted himself to the seat in which he was sitting. "So what do I need to get better? I can't get sick"

"You need a doctor to help with your diet and medications. Someone who can be very close to you, and check what you eat"

"Doctor, what are you saying right now?"

"You need a home caregiver, a doctor who can take care of your diet. Watch what you eat. If not, it gets worse"

Michael was upset; he had every right to be. He didn't like drugs and he didn't like to be sick. Now he had to deal with a home doctor too and allow someone else in his space.

He wasn't liking the idea, and however the doctor wanted to do it, there had to be another way.

"For starters, I can't have a stranger around me prescribing my diets all in the name of a doctor. Can't you just list all that I should avoid? I think I can do that."

"I can't Mike, someone needs to be utterly close to you. Someone needs to help you make sure you have the right ingredients around you. At least till you are better" the doctor calmly stated.

"This is bullshit," Michael muttered under his breath. He wanted to get upset at the doctor and maybe at himself too.

"Well, I don't have any other doctor but you. How will this doctor come about?" Michael asked.

"I'll look into finding someone for you before tomorrow, and then I'll get back to you. I'll send the person to you once I find someone."

"It should be someone you are sure of. I'm very picky with the people I work with. Doc. So it has to be someone you trust too," Michael said.

The doctor laughed lightly "Don't worry" he said handing Michael the piece of paper containing his test results. But Michael declined.

"Keep the paper; I don't need it." Michael was a bit agitated as he turned to walk out of the hospital room.

"Be on time," Michael added before leaving the room.