Between Two Feelings

Some days the work is exhausting, and some days the heart takes a beating. But there are sweet moments too, the kind that still make us smile. Hayati takes us inside the ward, where embarrassment, laughter and compassion somehow find their way into the same story.

Read to the end. You might just find yourself growing attached to the people in it.

“Cik Hayati, the patient in room five is calling for you again.”

Hayati turned to her colleague with a smile. “The one who proposed to me yesterday?”

Her colleague burst out laughing. “That's the one. Maybe he wants to propose again.”

Hayati replied casually, “If he asks again, I'll give him the tok kadi's number too.”

When Hayati entered the room, the patient was already smiling broadly, his hair neatly combed.

“Cik Hayati, I think I'm getting better. Maybe it's because you keep coming to see me.”

Hayati gave him a faint smile. If every patient behaved like this, she thought, the hospital could open an Academy for Broken Hearts and Mild Flirtation.

“I'm glad you're feeling better. But you have a procedure tomorrow. The doctor has ordered a urinary catheter.”

The smile vanished from his face. He stared at her, blinking.

“A what, Cik?”

“A urinary catheter,” Hayati replied calmly as she continued writing her notes. “Don't worry. It won't take long. I've done this plenty of times.”

“Plenty of times?”

The patient's face went pale.

“Cik… I've never done anything like that.”

Hayati held back a laugh. “Encik, it's a medical procedure, not some once in a lifetime experience.”

The next morning, when Hayati arrived with a tray of equipment, the patient immediately pretended to be asleep.

“Encik, please lie back,” she said gently.

“Cik… can we wait for another doctor?” he asked quietly, clearly embarrassed.

Hayati smiled. “Encik, I'm the nurse on duty. I'm here to look after you. Don't worry.”

After the procedure, the patient couldn't bring himself to look at her.

“Cik… thank you. But this stays between us, right?”

Hayati smiled. “Your privacy is safe with me. Don't worry.”

From that day on, he never dared propose again. Whenever Hayati walked past, he quickly pulled up his blanket and pretended to be asleep.

The other nurses soon started teasing her.

“Romance cancelled by a catheter?”

Hayati chuckled. “The hero fell before he even made it to the final scene.”

That afternoon, Hayati sat in the pantry drinking warm water and gazing out the window. Beneath all the laughter was an emptiness she rarely had time to acknowledge.

She looked down at her hands. Hands that dressed other people's wounds, yet never seemed to have time to tend to her own.

The night grew quieter. Somewhere in the cold ward, a little voice called out to her.

“Akak misi…”

A little boy smiled at her, his eyes half open.

“Akak looks pretty today.”

Hayati smiled gently. “Thank you, dik. Let Akak give you your medicine first, okay?”

The boy wrapped his little hand around Hayati's finger.

“Akak, don't cry, okay?”

Hayati froze.

The tears she had been holding back since morning finally slipped down her cheeks. She stroked the boy's head and whispered, “Thank you for reminding Akak that she's human too.”

Later, standing in front of the mirror, Hayati straightened her crooked tudung. Her face was tired and her eyes still carried traces of tears, but the smile remained.

“I may not have someone waiting for me, but there are still people who need me. That's enough.”

Hayati took a quiet breath and walked back into the ward.

Some wounds were still healing. Some exhaustion never found its way into words. But whenever someone called, “Akak misi,” she knew she still had a reason to keep going.

Caught between hurt and compassion, Hayati still chose compassion.