As narrated by Hamza:
“The news is good,” says Doctor Warner, as he walks out of the x-ray room with an envelope in his hand and a smile on his face.
A sigh of relief escapes me and I hear my mother mutter a grateful, ‘Alhamdulillah’ (All praise be to Allah) under her breath. Sumayya wipes her eyes and looks up earnestly.
“Your daughter has what we call a lateral malleolus fracture. The lateral malleolus is this part of the fibula bone,” he says, running his finger down a part just above his ankle. “This kind of fracture occurs when the ankle twists or bends at an awkward angle. In this situation, it seems that the force of the fall resulted in the unusual resting of her ankle, once on the ground. There is no need for any operations or surgery as the syndesmosis joint, which is the ankle joint, is unaffected. She will have to wear an aircast for 2-4 weeks. After assessment on the fourth week, depending on progression, she will either have to continue with the air cast, or be given a new cast, which will allow more flexibility. Usually, only a splint is needed, but seeing that she is a young, active child, the cast will provide more support and allow less strain. During this period, it is extremely important that she does not exert the injured leg. Rest is crucial for recovery! Should she not look after it during this period, it will result in slower healing, more pain, and possibly further damage,” explains Doctor Warner.
“Doctor, with regards to the cast…”
“The orthopaedic technician will tell you all you need to know regarding the cast.. bathing, exercising the leg.. do’s and don’ts,” answers Doctor Warner, cutting off Mummy.
“Any other questions?” he asks.
We look at each other and shake our heads.
Dr. Warner glances at his watch, then stands up to leave.
“I will see you’ll in 4 weeks then,” he says, extending his hand to greet Abbi and then I.
“Thank you so much,” I say to him sincerely, even though I know that he probably gets told those words countless times a day.
He nods in acknowledgement before proceeding out of the room.
The silence that fills the room is eased when a lady walks in and escorts us to another room. Here we are greeted by what I assume is the orthopaedic technician. Moments later, Tayyiba is wheeled into the room. She’s sucking on a lollipop, which she takes out of her mouth to give us a smile.
We only end up leaving the hospital by about half past seven.
On the way out, Abbi is on the phone with Raees’ dad, who phoned to say that Dadi is doing much better, Alhamdullilah.
I feel my shoulders relax, and realize that for the first time in my life I was actually feeling stressed!
“Hamza,” Abbi calls from in front. “Do you have my car keys?”
“No, only mine,” I reply, putting my hand into my pocket to check.
“It’s in my handbag,” says Mummy, handing Abbi his keys.
After helping Tayyiba into the car, Abbi gets in the drivers seat.
I wave to Taybs then turn around and head to where I’ve parked.
I notice Sumayya standing on the side, watching silently.
“Coming??” I ask, tossing my keys into the air and then catching them.
She follows me to the car, and together we head home.
The drive home is silent, not a word passing between a brother and sister who usually can never keep quiet in each others company..
As narrated by Sumayya:
It slowly and painfully settles in…
And now, it consumes me.
Neither of my parents have said anything to me. It has been 8 hours.
And as the minutes tick away, refusing to stop, to go back, so that I can undo what I had done, the guilt grows more and more.
By supper time, it has occupied so much of me that there is no place for food.
And by the time I go to bed, it has claimed my mind, my heart, my entire body, as its home, refusing to leave.
The result was a new experience to me.
The result was a sleepless night…
The next day:
“And we painted and made pretty cupcakes and….”
I stop at the sound of Taybs’ voice coming from the lounge.
“…Sumi gave us yoghurt and muesli for breakfast!”
“The chocolate one that you like?” asks Hamza.
“Yes!” answers Tayyiba, happily.
I turn around to head back to my room but stop short at the sight of Mummy a few feet away.
My heart sinks to my toes, and I drop my head to avoid eye contact.
That’s all it takes..
The held back tears come streaming down and my hands reach up to cover my face.
Arms embrace me and my senses are instantly hit with the smell of crushed rose petals and summer fruits.
I shut my eyes tightly trying to stop the tears but that only seems to make it worse.
The sound of footsteps behind me are followed by hushed words between Mummy and Hamza.
I don’t know how long we stand there; in the passage.. Mummy and I, but when I move my head from against her chest, I feel momentarily dizzy and my head is pounding.
Silently Mummy leads me to my bedroom where we sit down on the bed.
I rub my eyes and wip my nose with my sleeve.
“Use a tissue, Sumayya,” mummy says, handing me one. I mumble a word of thanks.
A few minutes later, once the tears have stopped completely and my headache has settled in fully, mummy speaks.
I nod silently.
“No more tears now, okay? Crying this much is unhealthy,” says mummy.
I try not to, but the gentleness in her voice sets me off again.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out.
“It’s not your fault darling. Shhh.”
I want to tell her that it is my fault… that I’m sorry I didn’t listen to her when she told me not to throw a party… that I won’t do it again. I want to tell her that I’m sorry they had to spend so much money at the hospital… that I’m sorry they had to rush from Benoni because of my disobedience… that I’m sorry for putting them in so much of worry and inconvenience… but I’m sobbing too hard and an apology is of little use now.
“We all make mistakes, Sumayya. We are Insaan (human), we were created to err, but Allah loves it when His servant realizes his mistakes and repents. And with repentance the action shouldn’t be done again. What has been written will happen, we cannot stop the command of Allah; He is all powerful. But with that, like I told you, celebrating birthdays is not the way of a Muslim. And when we do things which displeases Allah, sometimes, incidents like these occur. Do not despair though, because Allah made this happen so that we take lesson and do not do this action again thereby earning His displeasure.”
I listen carefully to each word my mother says and realize just how correct she is.
Sometimes in life we get so caught up in this Dunya and all its temptations, that we forget this is but a temporary place; a prison for us believers. Allah (s.w.t) does not want to see us chasing after this Dunya, and so he inflicts upon us what we might think is a difficulty, but instead it is a means of us gaining closeness Him. It is a wake up call, a reminder, that this Dunya is not our home. And only if we succeed here will we attain our real home which is Jannah (Paradise)… Insha Allah.
I had learnt a very important lesson in life. I had learnt it the hard way, but I had learnt it well.
Hey. Hi. Hello. Salaam. Bonjour. Salut. Ciao. Ahoj. Bog. Marhaba. Ola.
Hope everyone is doing well.
Amongst us there will be those who agree wholeheartedly with this post, there will be those who disagree with this post, and there will be those who have simply read it to keep up with the story. Yes, this is a sensitive topic and everyone has different beliefs, so I just want to insert a disclaimer that this post is not me judging those who disagree with what has been mentioned, nor is it me looking down on those who have read it simply for the entertainment.
I repeat- this is not me judging anyone.
This post was written with the hope that one person, just one person, will Insha Allah take lesson. It was written with the hope that at least one person will be inspired to take that one step away from this Dunya and towards what should be all of our ‘goals’ -Jannah.
I would love to know your thoughts on this topic -Celebrating Birthdays. Drop me a comment, there will be no judgement. 🙂
Click here to read an article written by Miss Muslimah entitled “Happy Birthday and “Birthday Parties”.
Troubled Illusioner. ❤