@combxtpulse liked for a starter | loc. ED | circa. 2026
"I am not a free translator for this hospital. " The words came faster out than she intended. There was a bite in it too. The one of a woman who got asked that same question over and over again as if she new the whole Arabic world and could relate to them anything.
She knew for a fact that some doctors here could really well communicate in some dialect or in classical Arabic. Her eyes were set on Gloria. They both but heads, but in the end, that woman could kill her carrier and then what. Sidra sighed, arms crossed, picking at her elbow's sleeve of her purple scrubs. She shook her head. Not the same cards she thought as she silently moved away.
A fuss, was not something she would do here, it didn't matter anyway. None of it did. What did the custom person say again at her last visit? Just be a good girl? something like that. She made her way to the consult room Gloria had indicated.
The assigned attending was Cross. She found him cold, similar to all those men she had met along the way that claimed to be of service. Different world, different side. He made her uneasy, the way you just were when distrusting a regime, a uniform or someone with morals. She gave a not, not looking him in the eye and focused on the patient. "Marhaba" she greeted the patient and proceeded to explain why she was here. "She's from Egypt, she complaints of a strong headache at the back of her head, it's been going for 3 days. She vomited."