Through Your Eyes

Author's Note:

I got the inspiration to write this book when the COVID-19 outbreak started to hit my country. I just imagined a love story that grows amidst the virus outbreak, but I realized later that this storyline could be a sensitive issue to those who are affected. So, I changed the name of the virus to make it fictional and diverted the course of the story from what I originally created in my mind.

"Red, can you please spare me a box of face masks?"

I frowned at this message from a friend as I opened my messenger app. I crossed my leg over the other as I slumped over the couch in our physician's lounge as soon as I finished writing orders. I was already exhausted from those non-stop admissions. It was already past three in the morning when I returned to the quarters, and yet, all the ER beds were still full. Others were even helping themselves into the chairs while waiting for vacancies in the medical-surgical ward.

"Why can't she just go to the nearest pharmacy or medical supplies outlet?" I grumbled to myself as I opened another message, shaking my head for this nonsense stuff. Having scanned my other unread messages, I shifted to YouTube Channel to watch my favorite music videos.

Just as I was halfway through my first video, a message notification popped in, and in a few seconds, another came in, so I hurriedly opened it. To my dismay, it was another annoying asking-for-help messages to facilitate their mask procurement.

"Dr. Red, is your hospital still selling masks?"

"Of course."

"If you don't mind, please spare me even just one box."

Soon, the succession of similar messages alarmed me. I reached over the phone and connected myself to the Central Supply Room.

"Sir, good morning. Dr. Red here. Can you please charge to my account twenty boxes of masks?"

I heard him gasped and giggled before he replied, "Doc, I'm sorry. We are no longer giving out masks except for staff on duty. All companies are not accepting orders anymore, so if we continue selling out, we wouldn't have enough for our needs."

"What?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I then began to understand why I received those many desperate messages asking me to spare them a box. The people must have gone frantic in buying masks.

True enough, I opened my Google browser, and the alarming newsfeeds about people's panic buying of masks, Vitamin C, hand sanitizers, and bottles of alcohol greeted me. As a person who doesn't care about reading news, even if news portals were buzzing loudly about the same headlines that went around for almost a month already, I was shocked to see posts from social media that masks were no longer available anywhere. Posts about long lines of people queuing up in pharmacies to buy masks had gone viral and online sellers of N95 or plain earloop masks were enjoying their price hike.

I made another cup of coffee as I browsed through the headlines about the Bronc X virus. I opened one and learned that at that moment, the death toll from the outbreak in Sama island increased to hundreds, causing a worldwide threat.

Bronc X virus had originated in late 2019 in Sama, an island in the southwest region of Philippine territory. The source of the virus was still unknown but the epidemic started in this place.

Being a famous destination swarmed by tourists from all over the world, the status in this place had caused the fast spread of the virus to more than 300 countries worldwide. It then led to more than a thousand deaths in the Philippines alone, forcing retailers and travel operators to close stores, cancel flights, cruises, and warn investors about the inevitable financial crisis. To prevent the spread of the virus, thousands of people across the world had been placed in quarantine, especially those tourists coming from Sama Islands, and those people they were having close contact with.

My thoughts were still on those infected children and those quarantined travelers when a friend of mine, who was also a resident physician, appeared in the doorway.

"Red, have you saved a box for your family?" she asked, and through her worried looks, I could tell that she was also concerned about the shortage of masks.

I shrugged my shoulders off and stretched out my palms open. "Duh! Our existing infectious diseases here are more threatening than that. We don't even wear masks all the time even if we know that 70% of the air we breathe contains Mycobacterium tuberculosis."

Mycobacterium tuberculosis is one of the species of pathogenic bacteria that also appeared as a serious worldwide health problem. It is an airborne bacteria, causing an infectious disease that primarily affects the lung.

"Yes, it's true. Our measles outbreak was also deadly, but since this infection is a worldwide threat now, we should also take precautions, especially if we have children and elderlies in the house. School administrators even require children to wear masks."

As soon as my friend left, I leaned my head on the backrest and closed my eyes. The caffeine in my third cup of coffee no longer did its task in keeping me awake. I still had a few hours to complete before I could finally leave and spend the rest of my day off.

Just when I drifted into sleep, having vivid dreams about the earlier events in my duty, a frightened voice, and a hand that shook my shoulders vigorously, woke me up. I opened my eyes but gathered my brows right away, hoping to show her that a simple tap could wake me up. I was sure I did not sleep well because I just had a boost of caffeine in my system.

"Doc, wake up!"

"What is it, this time?' I asked in a lazy tone.

"Doc, I'm sorry to wake you up soon. I know you're already exhausted, but we have a Bronc X virus suspect here."

I sprang to my feet at the mention of the virus. My eyes flew wide, and all my grogginess slipped away. I reached for my white coat and instructed the nurse to hand me the PPE. It stands for Personal Protective Equipment like gloves, goggles and glasses, gowns, head covers, masks, respirators, and shoe covers to protect one against the transmission of germs through contact and droplet routes.

"Give me the history," I asked while slipping into the set of protective gear; and she, assisting me in donning my gloves and in wearing my gown.

"A 30-year-old businessman, single, and on his vacation leave."

I didn't know why, but I got amused when she stated the word 'single'. It should have meant nothing because we always take notes on the history and personal details of every patient.

"What else," I proceeded, concealing the tickling sensation I foolishly felt inside. It was so silly of me.

"He went to Sama a month ago, four weeks after the declaration of the outbreak."

"Was he quarantined?"

"No, doc."

"I wonder how he escaped from it," I thought hard. As far as I knew, the government is strictly imposing the rules of quarantine.

"He is a wealthy businessman, doc. When he dropped on one of the destinations, he came here via his private chopper."

Before I entered to check him up, I looked at him first through the glass that separated the isolation room from the central ER. Dear skies, his tall and lean built captured my eyes. I stared at him to get more of his features, but for what seemed like mental telepathy, he turned in my direction and noticed me. I stepped back when he also stared at me, and for a moment, our eyes locked.

All of a sudden, there was chaos among the staff in the emergency room. They ran back and forth, wearing their N95 face masks in a snap of a finger. Those vigilant watchers of the waiting patients at the ER started to panic. They began to ask questions while putting themselves, as well, into their protective gear. Some sprayed alcohol on themselves, almost emptying the contents of a bottle in just a single use. Some of them even wanted to cancel their admissions and go home right away or transfer to other health facilities.

"Everything is under control. No need to panic," I heard someone from the infectious control department addressing the crowd, standing tall from the nurses' counter. She had power in her voice, however, the glints of fear reflecting in her eyes betrayed her inner feelings.

"What's happening?" someone from the watcher's lounge asked as he slid himself into the main ER's entrance.

"Someone came over here for a consultation. Just because he is a foreigner, the people from outside think he is infected with the virus. We already assessed the said patient and we, as the health care team, do think otherwise."

She may be lying or not; she only intended to calm down the public and stop them from creating false reports and unnecessary panic. None among the patient's family had access to the isolation room anyway, and it was too early to put a verdict on the suspect. After much convincing, the tension eased down, and everything was back to normal.

Foreigners were mostly misjudged because most of those who got infected were tourists from other countries. The locals were not willing to spend the dollar value imposed in that tourist spot since there were lots of magnificent beach resorts all around, offering a much lower price.

I went to the isolation room in a different route, away from the prying eyes of the patient's watchers. Somehow, I took a step back when I finally stood by the door, drawing a deep breath to calm my racing heartbeats. Who would not get scared when finally you're thrown armless into the real battle?

I turned the knob open, and the moment our eyes met, I felt my heart got stuck in my throat. I didn't know why, it was so silly of me again.. I knew it was not from the scare I felt towards the virus but from the way his gaze pierced into my soul. Of course, it was the first time I met him, but why did I feel like seeing him in my dreams before?

"Good morning, doc!" I heard him spoke, and his deep and resonant voice sent butterflies into my stomach.

I stared at him and my foolish self, suddenly, lost the energy to remove my gaze at him. I began to do a quick mental reassessment of myself. Just when did I start to become stupid in front of a gorgeous man?

"Good morning, Mr.?" I asked, expecting that his name would be as handsome as he was.

"Sean...Sean Grey."

Before I could blink, his lips twisted into a delicious curve, intensified by the spark in his eyes. Dear heavens, I was too ready to die with him if, at that moment, he would graze his lips on mine.

"I'm Dr. Red, Red Nelson, your physician-on-duty today. Now, may I ask, Mr. Grey, what prompts you to come here?" I began to do my duty but my eyes were on his lips. He must have noticed my craziness because I saw him swallow hard before he replied. Perhaps, my sticking eyes, like leeches on a skin, distracted him.

"I was one of those who went to Sama Island a month ago."

"It's already a month, isn't it?" I asked; a load of worries dispelled right away from my heart with my initial conclusion that he was not a suspect for the virus infection. The incubation period was only one to two weeks before the signs and symptoms start to manifest. Cough, fever and red patches all over the body were the cardinal signs, and airborne transmission was how the virus spread itself.

"Yes, but I'm getting paranoid when I learned that a lot of tourists are tested positive of the virus."

"After that, have you gone back to Sama Island or traveled to countries where the virus is on outbreak?"

"No."

"What else prompted you for a check-up?"

"I have a cough."

"Describe your cough, Mr. Grey."

"It's dry and persistent like every time I got my asthma attack."

"Are you having a breathing difficulty?"

"Not anymore. I had my puff."

"Do you also have a fever?"

"Not yet."

I laughed hard at his answer. This man was not only stunningly handsome but was shockingly coward and paranoid. He threw me a puzzled look but I ignored him. How would I explain myself? I walked over to his side, placing the diaphragm of my black stethoscope into the quadrants of his back. I then stepped in front of him, bending a little as I also listened to his lung sounds. He stared into my eyes as I did my ministrations on his chest, almost tempted to place both of my palms instead. The loud sound I heard was not the rales or crackles from any of his lobes, but the loud thuds coming from my heart. He was as healthy as an ox.

"Go home, Mr. Grey," I said as I mentally scolded myself for acting so silly. It was not my first time to have a male client, nor my first time to touch a handsome man. Yet, I couldn't understand why I was acting this way as if I was running out of a man. I had a handsome boyfriend who believes he was mighty and powerful as a king.

"Why do you send me home? Aren't you going to test me if I am positive or not? Aren't you going to treat me?

"You are as silly as I am, Mr. Grey," I mumbled foolishly, speaking softly to myself. I was too late to realize that he heard me because when my eyes fell into his face again, I saw his brows turning up.

"What did you say?" he asked, his confused gaze turned into a spark of amusement.

How I wish I could tell him I was crazy to feel this way. I was never a believer of love at first sight, not until this moment when this stranger before me, affected me in a way that makes me question my mental health.

"I mean you are as paranoid as me. Look at me now, wrapped in this troublesome protective gear, thinking that you are infected with the virus," I explained laughing but not over what I said, but for my craziness.

I began removing my shields, including my goggles and my mask before I spoke to him again. "Mr. Grey, just continue your maintenance medication for your asthma. I'll give you an antihistamine for five days but you may consult your doctor if symptoms get worse."

"Give me your number," he said, with all the seriousness my mind could imagine he could do. I looked at him dumbly and my mouth fell open.

"My number?"

My shift finally ended after a few hours Mr. Grey left the hospital premises. I gave him an antihistamine for five days but encouraged him to consult his physician if symptoms persist. I took a shower before leaving, planning to dive into my bed as soon as I arrive home. It had been a long shift, and all I wanted was to sleep for another 24 hours. I was already in my third year of medical residency training, specializing in Internal Medicine. I planned to pursue a subspecialty program, also known as fellowship training, and perhaps, I choose either Cardiology or Infectious Diseases.

I was already a few months away from completing my residency, but still, I had not made up my mind yet.

I took another shower as soon as I arrived home. I didn't want my boyfriend, Eric, to blame me if he ever gets sick. I was already tired of his foul mouth as I was becoming more and more worthless in his eyes. Yes, he had reasons why he looked down on me. He rescued me from the pit of financial hardship as a result of my father's death during my fourth year in college.

My mother died when I was three, and I grew up devoid of motherly love. I envied those classmates whose mothers came during Parents Teachers Association meetings because my father could not. He worked as a ship captain, and a few years after my mother died, he came home every year, not to our house, but to his other woman. Yes, he visited me. He even pampered me with money, with beautiful clothes and everything a teen wants.

My friends even envied me because I had everything. I had a fat bank account, and I always hang out in expensive coffee shops. They thought all these material things I was enjoying made me truly happy. They were all wrong. There are some things money can't buy. If I had to choose, I would have preferred to enjoy a simple life as long as I wouldn't live alone in dormitories and boarding houses near my school. I already lived in dorms ever since I was in elementary. I had a nanny to take care of my things and my school uniforms, but I only enjoyed her company during weekends. I treasured her as a family because she did those responsibilities my mother should have done. Yet, she died when I was in high school, making me totally independent when I entered college.

Unlike those depressed teens, I did not squander my money except for my expensive lifestyle. I never went out with my friends at a club, though I spent dinners with them sometimes. I instead loved to study and burn my candles in coffee shops and enjoyed the feeling of being praised for excelling in the class.

Living the life of a lonely princess ended when my father died. Aside from the money in my bank account, he left me with almost nothing except for a house and lot, which I only stayed with when my mother lived. When my nanny died, my father had it rented but entrusted the monthly rental collection to his other woman. She never gave me a share of it and even spent the last penny of my father's bank savings. I sold the house, even if she objected, knowing I had the sole right as my father's daughter.

However, my money did not last long. I took medicine after I graduated from my pre-med course, which was a Bachelor of Science in Nursing. The high cost of the course itself plunged me deeper into financial hardship. I sold my expensive things, but still, it couldn't cover my entire financial needs.

I met Eric during my last year in medical school. I hang out with a friend at that time as I was getting tired of crying inside my boarding house. I spent my last money with our two cups of coffee but cried hard afterward, grieving over my loss as I started to feel pity for myself. Her cousin came over by coincidence, and that's how I knew Eric as a businessman. He was the son of the biggest shareholder of a famous university, but at a young age, he started to build his own company.

Perhaps, my friend noticed Eric's attraction to me, because she left us alone to talk. As emotional as I was, I started crying when he asked me why I looked sad. Getting conscious of the people's eyes on us, I accepted his invitation to talk more at the hotel he was staying in.

I was too innocent then, not paying attention to the risk of being with a man inside a hotel's suite. He comforted me and promised to take care of my tuition, and all that I need to complete my fourth year in medical school. He even told me to shoulder everything until I would become a full-fledged physician but with a condition to live with him as his mistress. The desire to finish my course and my financial setbacks left me with no choice. As a medical student who had thick books to study, I could never take part-time jobs. Aside from that, I am not used to working for a living, the disadvantage of being a pampered child.

That night, he took me to his home, and from then on, lived with him. He provided a decent roof under my head, a fatter bank account, and expensive stuff. I paid him with my body. He was sexually insatiable, and I felt that in those few days I stayed with him, I was already rotting like an overripe banana.

I was still in my reverie as I lay awake on my bed when my phone vibrated. I was too tired to pick it up, aside from being annoyed at having my thoughts interrupted.

"Red? Why on hell does it take you so long to answer my call?"

"I'm sorry I was asleep."

"My time is precious, Red. Don't you dare to delay any second that I have."

I felt hurt again. Eric dominated over me as if I was a whore. I never felt loved at all, not even during our sex, where most men say sweet nothings. However, I had to accept my fate. He bought me for a price.