“Nurse! Nurse! I need the toilet.”

A young male nurse marched right past his little room, then took two steps back and peered through the door. “You’re next on my list, Mr Rai, just two ticks,” he said with a heavy Australian accent and walked off.

“Two ticks my arse,” AJ muttered under his breath, knowing it meant at least half an hour. “I’ll do it alone.”

He tried shuffling to get out of bed but the morning shift had pretty much shrink-wrapped him in sheets and blankets with no room to move. After three attempts, he gave up and just gazed at the ceiling. He counted three cracks, remembering they had already been counted the day before and the day before that.

He looked across to the mirror on the adjacent cabinet and caught sight of himself for the first time since his arrival at the hospital. He seemed to have aged two decades. His hair was dishevelled from lying in the hospital bed and his face looked pale and withdrawn.

“You’re still as handsome as ever, AJ.” A soft, familiar voice suddenly lifted his spirits. He smiled internally and said under his breath so she could still hear.

“Liar.”

8

She ignored him, smiling slightly. Sonia was a couple of years

older, in her late fifties, but looked a decade younger. Standing

in the doorway, her straight jet black hair had the thinnest strip

of grey running through it and fell to her shoulders over her

navy suit. AJ turned with a half-smile, which he immediately

reversed.

“Three days in this place and I can’t go to the toilet on my

own.” He noticed the same nurse from earlier walk past his

room again.

“I’m so pleased to see you too!” Sonia’s tone was sharp but her

face couldn’t hide her happiness and relief at seeing him. He

had always had a habit of ignoring social etiquette and talking

about himself first and foremost.

In a much softer tone, so as not to stress him, she said, “You

missed your appointment, vanished without trace, and I hear

from the florist that you’ve had a heart attack.” That’s when he

noticed the yellow roses, his favourite, which she had in her

hand.

“You’re a doctor, I’m sure you can find me if you wanted to.”

AJ instantly realised how absurd that sounded but nevertheless

committed himself to the statement. He stared back at the

ceiling and fruitlessly continued to try and push the sheets off.

Unsuccessful, he gave up, visibly exhausted from the effort.

“What are you trying to do? Do you want me to call someone?”

Sonia walked into the room, put the flowers down on the table

next to him, and looked around the bed for the assistance

buzzer. It was hooked to the side of the bed. Instantly realising

why he hadn’t pressed it, she let out a deep frustrated sigh.

Her voice filled with anger. “They should know better. How

ignorant.”

EVERYBODY HURTS

9

She looked into AJ’s eyes — it was clear he didn’t want her to

say anything to them. She knew he was proud in spite of his

disability and that asking for help didn’t come naturally. Born

with Diplegia, he knew from an early age that his parents had

been told not to hold out too much hope for a “normal” life for

him. It was a constant shadow that had always followed him

his whole life and made it all the more difficult to ask for and

seek out help, especially when his limbs were tired.

She grabbed the buzzer and pressed it.

“I can’t wait anymore, I need to go now. They’re not going to

come. Pull these damn sheets off me.” He looked at her with a

desperate, helpless look.

“Are you allowed out of bed? Where’s your care plan?”

She checked his notes on the table in front of his bed. She

was a doctor but didn’t have the clearance to intervene in his

medical care. Sharing his frustration, she lifted the sheets to

expose his legs and let out an audible gasp.

“What happened? The bruises? How?” AJ’s left leg was

covered in bruises and what looked like small cuts. She looked

up and noticed that his left arm was in a similar mess. Sonia

recalled part of their last conversation before he went AWOL.

She had told him to use his walking stick, which he had filed

away with his painkillers. Realising he was still desperate to

go, she helped him to his feet and walked with him to the ensuite.

He locked the door behind him.

Sonia turned around and dropped onto the bed; tears started

flowing effortlessly. She had known him a long time and not

seen him as physically broken as he was now.

EVERYBODY HURTS

10

A few minutes passed, then the sound of the flush interrupted

her thoughts and she gathered herself to hide her tears; she sat

upright, ready for some answers.

The door opened and AJ stood there with a cold but confused

stare. He looked paler and even more frail than when he

entered the bathroom. Something else was wrong. His mouth

was open but no words came out as he collapsed to the floor.

Within seconds, the room was filled with blue and white

uniforms. Now crying uncontrollably, Sonia was marshalled

to the waiting room at the end of the corridor, which didn’t

actually seem to end, by a nurse who she thought looked like

a school leaver.

“Have a seat here, someone will come and talk to you in a little

while. Are you next of kin?”

Stuttering, Sonia said, “No. No. I’m his ther…”

“The doctor will be here shortly, there’s a coffee machine in

the corner, help yourself," the nurse said kindly and walked

away leaving Sonia to wait.

Sonia glanced across the room at some kind of contraption,

which didn’t look like it would give her the caffeine shot she

needed. She sat down and cried some more. She mumbled,

“Get a grip, you idiot. He’s just like any other patient. Get a

grip.”

For some completely unknown reason, she recalled the song

playing on the radio on the way to the hospital: Everybody

Hurts by R.E.M. That didn’t help as the tears continued to

flow.

EVERYBODY HURTS

11

Just over an hour had passed when she heard footsteps

approaching. A tall man who appeared to be in his thirties

came in. “I’m Dr Ash Kumar. Are you with Mr Amraj Rai?”

“Yes, Yes I am. Is he all right? Sorry, my name is Dr Khan,

Sonia—

Dr Sonia Khan.” She fumbled, instantly realising her

cringe-worthy habit of introducing herself as a doctor when

meeting her peers. She asked again, “AJ, I mean Mr Rai,

attends my clinic for counselling. Is he all right?”

“Initial results indicate another heart attack, which doubled

up with his episode a few days earlier, doesn’t put him in a

strong position. He’s sedated and resting at the moment.” Dr

Kumar had a kind and empathetic tone that reassured her. “His

emergency contact has been alerted.”

Sonia didn’t feel professional at all and asked “Can I see him?

I won’t disturb him.” She wanted to be with him before his

family arrived.

“Yes of course. I’ll walk with you.” Dr Kumar walked at a

pace she couldn’t match and kept falling a few steps behind.

Sonia couldn’t for the life of her get that song out of her head.

They walked into AJ’s room. It seemed eerie but warmer for

some reason. “Please try not to wake him.” His voice suddenly

softened. “I’ll be on the ward if you need me. The nursing staff

are at their station too.”

She looked at him and felt an urge to correct him about the

availability of the nurses but that could wait. He walked out

across to the ward opposite and she turned to AJ.

AJ was now attached to a respiratory pipe, an ECG monitor and

other equipment not necessarily recognisable to a psychiatrist,

bleeping in the background. The chair beside the bed looked

EVERYBODY HURTS

12

appealing. She sat down feeling spent and looked at her watch.

She would wait until his siblings arrived and make her leave

then. AJ’s family, including his siblings, never knew of their

relationship and that AJ had been having therapy and she

would never want to make it awkward for him now.

She looked towards the door as if to keep watch of anyone

approaching. Compelled to grab hold of his left hand, she felt

the tears commence. She could hear her own heart, which was

loud and beating fast. She turned to AJ once more.

Composing herself and holding back tears, her voice wavering,

she said, “I remember the first time I met you.”