Twists, Turns… Theatre.

My consultant, Dr. Finanni, was almost always absent. She was often travelling, attending seminars, giving talks and getting paid. She was close to becoming a professor and had relegated most of her other duties to me. I was not complaining.

I had no idea what Mr. Badmus and Laila meant.

“What does she have to do with his death?”

“I was one of those on the qualification board for the WHO post she badly wanted. I was the only one who voted against her because I knew what she was capable of. Your consultant is good but she would do anything to get what she wants. Trust me.”

I knew for a woman her age, Dr. Finanni, had risen up the career ladder quite fast. I never thought much about it. She is brilliant and hardworking, add to that her rich and highly connected family and you have all that is needed to succeed. She was not married yet and she rarely had time to even notice guys around her.

“I do not understand. She is who she is now because she put in a lot of effort…”

“Into killing people too… How come it your team never had a definite diagnosis for me? All the tests that could have helped either came back negative or were sabotaged.”

“Mr. Badmus, my consultant was not around when you were with us.”

“Of course. She has little minions in every unit of the hospital. Even among those operating on you now.”

I felt sweat beads gather on my forehead. This was too weird to believe.

“Why would she go to that extent just to get you?”

“I was chairman of the board. My vote held more power than the combined votes of the other board members.”

“I see…”

I had lots of questions. How did she arrange it all? What did she do to Mr. Badmus?

“But you were really ill before you came to the hospital, coughing and throwing up blood. I am sure she had nothing to do with that.”

“I have peptic ulcer. What medications in high doses can cause gastric bleeding in a person like me? If you recall, history was very acute, just two weeks. Board members and those applying for the post were lodged in the same hotel. She had been sending complimentary drinks to my hotel room for some days before the symptoms began… What do you think?”

“Oh, oh… Did you know she was the one?”

“Now i know.”

“Did you not feel the symptoms?”

“I did but i could not be bothered about it till it got that serious.”

“That does not explain coughing up blood though.”

Mr. Badmus looked at Laila who shrugged and faced me, “we have not found the explanation for that. We know she botched the plans for an endoscopy for him, she ensured most of his blood and saliva samples were swapped or lost in transit. She is meticulous.”

“What then happened in theatre?”

Apparently, it was the simplest part. Her minion in the power unit would have been stationed to switch off power supply to the theatre. He would have also been instructed not to switch on the generator. Most theatres would wait till it comes on. If it does not, the surgery is rescheduled. That should not end the life of the patient though.

“How come I still died, right? Maybe we should ask the anesthetist in your operating room. He may have received similar instructions concerning you.”

We got to the room I was being operated on just as the man was about giving me another dose.

A dose that would definitely kill me.

About the Author


Eunice is a medical doctor, writer and photographer whose love for art compliments her dedication to health and science. She is interested in communicating health related issues in the simplest, yet artistic form and generally improving health status through awareness.

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