On Following Up a Patient

We were talking to a patient in the ward before his operation. Very nice gentleman. All cheerful and hopeful. It was a surgery on the enlarged thyroid gland in the neck. So he said, "Will you come visit me after the surgery?"

"Sure we would!"

The following day, all my colleagues went back to their rooms earlier as there was no class, and it was near the finals. Everyone wanted to study. I mean, well, understood. But I guess I was just being stupid for not grabbing the available time to go back to my room to study. I wondered around in the ward, looking through some other patients' notes.

By noon, as I was walking back to the hostel for my lunch, I suddenly remembered the uncle we were talking to the day before. And without conscious thought, I found myself walking to the other wing of the hospital where the uncle was in. Part of me wanted to just go back to the room, since we didn't even follow him into the operation theater; but another part of me thought, well, why not just go and say hi.

So I found myself in the ward, looking for him. He had the scar on his neck, sitting up. Already well apparently.
"Mr. Paul. Remember me?"

He looked up, stern-looking.

"Yeah."

"How're you doing?"

"Fine. Did you manage to see the surgery?"

"Nope. Professor didn't allow us to."

"Where are your colleagues?"

"They went for their lunch break."

"Okay."

"Well... Good luck, wishing you a speedy recovery."

"Thanks."

He was a completely different person compared to the day before. And I was half expecting a happy chap. Part of me felt as though my expectation failed me; another part of me tried to reason to myself.

Perhaps he was just in pain.

But I was really hoping he would be at least, more enthusiastic of seeing me.