Seven years ago. A bright early summer day. I stepped into my office. Everything was as usual, except that I had a secret. A really deep, dark secret, which I had found out only over the weekend, and which had shocked me and shaken my universe. I had screamed and cried and sobbed and jumped off the dining room table several times to get rid of the secret, only as far as I knew, the secret was still stuck firmly inside me.
Anyway, here I was, with everything as usual in my office. As usual, some drama was going on somewhere over something someone had done. I poured myself a cup of tea and prepared to take in my morning batch of files. I decided to go to the washroom. Where I had hysterics. Because I was bleeding.
So, I went into the room closest to the washroom, called my boss, and told her I had to leave. She sighed. It was not a good day for staff to want to leave suddenly. She asked if it was an emergency. I said yes, and began crying again. She asked me where I was, and told me to stay there. She came to the room where I had hidden, or rather where we had hidden, me and my secret. I told her, and I told her about the bleeding. I didn’t tell her about the dining room table, because that would have been slightly too much, but I just said I was going to my hospital. She said I couldn’t go alone, called a taxi, and came in the taxi with me to the hospital.
In the taxi I continued sobbing. My boss, who loved me, held my hand. Don’t be afraid, she said. What are you so afraid of? But you don’t understand! I wailed. I wanted to get rid of it! I wasn’t ready for it! Now I may have- how can I live with the guilt!
Anyway, the doctor examined me and said everything was fine. The secret was here to stay. I had just had some random bleeding, a little message from the universe to make me love and want my son. That particular episode was over and done with. I never told anybody about it.
But I haven’t forgotten it. Whenever I feel panic-y or afraid, I remember my lovely kind boss, holding my hand in a taxicab speeding towards Aban Hospital. Don’t cry. What are you afraid of?