Chapter 10: Emergency

PAMELA.

I smoothed out invisible wrinkles on my navy blue dress. It was one of the few dresses I owned. I usually stuck to jeans and shirts. My hair was braided and gathered on top of my head, brown wedge heels adorned my feet. The fact that I had to play dress up wasn't sitting well with me and just in time my inner ninja opened her mouth- you are dressing up today for him dear.

"Of course not. I need to look formal and presentable. It definitely has nothing to do with honey brown eyes" I replied the voice loudly.

"Whatever makes you feel better" the annoying voice quipped cheekily.

CHANCE Corporation was a giant looking building; painted cream on the outside and beautiful shades of brown and gold on the inside. It had lots of glass finishing.

A woman was cleaning the glass windows outside when I passed. She looked elderly and the fact that she still had to do menial labor at her age was sad but like most Nigerians, she probably needed the cash. I mean, this is Nigeria you need to hustle to chop(eat).

I continued my journey to the elevator until I heard:

"Help! Help! Help" Loud shouts were coming from outside. I decided to mind my own business after all this is Naija(Nigeria) and this is Lagos. Everyman to his own business but the shouts were getting louder. I walked back out of the elevator before the doors could shut to see a crowd gathered around the elderly woman I had seen earlier, now writhing on the floor. No one was helping her. Some ignorant fellows were recording the scene. I just hissed and pushed my way through the foolish crowd. "Move. Move. Move. Mister, get out of my way" I pushed my way through.

After squeezing in, I saw that she was lying down flat on her back. I searched for a pulse and it was weak. She needed CPR so I started chest compressions, placing my head to her chest. Her lungs were filling up with fluid. She was suffering from Pneumothorax so she couldn't breathe.

"Call an ambulance somebody! Back off people. I need air and light. Who knows CPR?" I shouted frantic, almost in panic, going on full doctor mode.

"Wetin be CPR (what is CPR)?" someone asked from the crowd.

"Chest compressions" I snapped, continuing to give her compressions but she was still not breathing. With pneumothorax, it sometimes feels like you are drowning in your fluids.

" I do." someone answered, the severity of the case did not make me notice the steady familiar drawl.

"Okay take over chest compressions. Someone get me alcohol and a neck tie!" I shouted.

I rummaged my bag for a pen and jammed it against her ribs until I heard a sharp intake of breath. I poured the dry gin someone just dropped in my hands over the pen to sterilize it and tied the pen to her ribs to keep it elevated. "Keep up CPR, she's breathing weakly now. Let's move her"

"You and you help me, let's lift her. Abu bring my car around” my CPR stranger said. Then I looked at his face and it was him, the CEO pervert. We all got into his Mercedes SUV, pretty sleek and decent.

We got her checked into a private hospital but they refused to wheel her into surgery, without payment.

"What nonsense! She may die soon. Her lungs may collapse any minute" I was furious. This is negligence of the highest order. In their defense, if they wheeled her into surgery and no one took responsibility, they will be blamed too but I refused to see reason. This was a person’s life.

"I'll pay" Mr. CEO quickly cut in looking worried “Just wheel her in and give me directions on where I can make payments" he added.

"Here, have it" the pervert CEO was holding a plastic bottle of coke towards me and a wrapped paper bag. He was holding another to himself. We'd been waiting here for some time while she underwent surgery.

"No thank you." All I wanted right now was to scrub in and join the surgery, but there were policies preventing that. I really wanted to know how she was doing but they were not out of surgery yet.

"Just take it. You need it. I got it from the hospital canteen so it’s not poisoned" he said, smiling softly at me.

"Thanks." I replied. Inside the paper bag, I found Chicken and chips and I dug in as quickly as I could. I missed breakfast this morning because we left Ibadan early and you know the random fact of breakfast being the most important meal. It was almost midday.

Mr. CEO chuckled as I ate. "What's funny?" I was conscious and actually eating meticulously. I wondered how proud Liz will be if she saw me now.

"Oh nothing, it’s just the bliss in your eyes. You actually like food just as I figured which is a nice surprise." He shrugged as he spoke and it was at this point I made up my mind that I didn't like him one bit.

"And you don't think calling me a glutton to my face is rude?" I replied curtly. Why did I even collect the blasted meal? The least I could do was pay him for it. I pulled out Two Thousand Naira from my bag and handed it to him.

My currently annoying CEO looked offended. " I never said you were a glutton and you know it. Why do you always act on the defensive even without offense?" while refusing to collect the money.

"Ohh now, you are saying I’m the one with problems right?" I looked foolish, holding out cash while he was happily eating his food. I didn't know why I was baiting him to anger, maybe it was because he's been meeting me in situations where I was vulnerable. "For someone so small, you have a lot of rage. I know you are worried, so I will just sit quietly and wait. She is my staff and I am responsible for her." He continued in a collected voice.

"Why hire an elderly woman to clean in the first place?" I asked, giving him a scornful look.

"Does it occur to you that I own the company and may not be in charge of hiring the cleaning staff? I can't do it all." He put his guard back in place. Gone was any flicker of emotion on his face.

"Then the lea..." I was cut off by a nurse asking for who brought Mrs. Anjola to the ward. The doctor accompanied by a nurse walked up to us and said "We are sorry, we lost her on the table. She had stage 3 lung cancer which caused metastases and occupied almost all of her air space, making the abscess of fluid difficult to stop." Even though I've been trained for this, right now I felt like the patient; helpless.

Mr. CEO thanked them and began to make arrangements for her to be taken to the mortuary. He was so cold, there were no emotions in him. I just sat there hurting, loss was always terrible and brutal.