Devotion (A Devotion)
Darling

Today I'm getting ready for a follow-up check. My body is starting to feel a little fresh. Pain in the lower part of the stomach is no longer felt. The pulsating pelvis no longer hurts. The pull of the painful cramping muscle I didn't feel.

Mas Hadi drove the children to school, then to the office to check work and check reports. Ever since I got married, I've been used to things like this. Several times my son was taken care of, or I was treated myself, Mas Hadi still went to work.

I'm not taking issue with it. During the afternoon or afternoon, Mas Hadi just returned to the hospital. After all, waiting without doing anything was very boring. Better to work, I thought. Doesn't matter.

Morning to noon, I was alone in the room. Occasionally nurses come to check the condition of the infusion and inject pain medication. During that time, I did nothing but lie on the bed. Occasionally these eyes blink because of sleepiness. The television broadcast the state news, I heard it before I fell asleep.

Waking up at half-time, I forgot to pray. Rushing to the bathroom with a limp step, I carried the infusion pole and tried to adjust the position so that the blood did not come out of the back of the hand. After I closed the bathroom door after taking the water, a nurse came into the room. Maybe I changed shift. He came in after knocking on the door, and opened it himself.

“Siang, Mom Love. I'm a nurse guard. This afternoon we check with Doctor Titin, Mom. We are down, already awaited by him,” warm sweep.

“I pray first yes, Sus. Sleeping, not praying,” my door to delay check for a while. I smiled at the nurse.

“Good, Mom. Call me when you're done.”

Mas Hadi has not returned to the hospital. Maybe I'm picking up and taking care of the kids. I can only be patient. Living in Semarang City without brothers, parents far away in the village, makes me have to be able to accept this condition.

“We check the tension and temperature first yes, Mom,” said the nurse when I called her after prayers.

The young woman, who was about twenty-five years old, grabbed my wrist and put on a tension meter. The digital thermometer he put on my left armpit. While waiting for some time the two tools worked, the nurse asked me about my condition.

“Lunch is up, Bu?”

I nodded and smiled a sign echoing his question.

“Bat after meals already in drink?”

My head nodded again for the second time. “Already, Sus.”

When I looked well, she wasn't the nurse I thought of last night as a faceless man with green eyes last night. The nurse who last night was tall, her voice and face were firm. This one, his face and voice were softer. Slim body and movement more gurgling.

After I finished checking the condition, the woman with the oval face accompanied me to the check room located on the second floor. He pushed the wheelchair slowly. A stack of check files he put on his lap. I sat enjoying the creaking of the wheels that swiped with the slippery floor.

Arriving in the room, had been waiting for a woman wearing all-white clothes. I saw him smiling to welcome my presence. I smiled at him while greeting him.

“Siang, Doc!”

The nurse took care of me, guided me and helped me get ready for the examination bed. A green cloth was covered over the bottom of my body. While waiting for Doctor Titin, I prepared my inner birth to receive the results of the examination. Hopefully good.

Doctor Titin was about fifty years old. Unlike the young and fashionable Doctor Melisa, the appearance of Doctor Titin is more visible as a doctor. Perhaps it was due to his older age, so a serious impression emanated from his eyes.

After applying the gel, the woman in the white practice coat twirled the camera over my stomach. The monitor in front of us displays the results of the USG camera footage. I saw every movement without a blink.

“Nothing. Hmm!”

The camera went around my entire stomach. The monitor displays the recording. Curious, I looked carefully at the monitor, looking for a lump of disease that a week ago made restless. I painstakingly followed every movement of the camera recorded on the monitor and tried to see something strange, failed.

“Sick or not I press?” Doctor Titin pressed the part of the stomach that I complained of pain.

I'm shaking. “No, Doc.” Truly, there is no more pain that has tormented me this week. Where the hell did it go?

The doctor had round eyes, with a face that had begun to wrinkle it tidying up the camera and equipment after the USG recording came out. The tip of the salem-coloured hijab floated as she turned around to return to her practice seat.

“Betul is nothing? Which was in USG last week what, Doc?” I don't think it out. Didn't I get a functional cyst last week. Why is it suddenly not there?

Does this have anything to do with my dream last night. Dream about a slimy green animal herder, who tore my belly skin apart and took a lump of shiny black stone from it? Has my illness been taken away by them? That disgusting green frog?

“There's nothing of this. The mother's high body temperature due to infection is caused by the salmonella thyposa bacteria. Nausea and pain are also because of that. Not because of anything,” explained Doctor Titin.

Titin's doctor scribbled the prescription paper with his trademark writing, and briefed the nurse who was busy taking note of every instruction given. The two men spoke seriously about what to do to help me heal. I looked at Doctor Titin and the nurse carefully, and tried to understand her.

“Thank you, Doc,” I said before exiting the practice room.

“Chealing quickly yes, Bu.”

“Thank you, Sister,” I said as she took care of another patient.

“If there is anything, just push the emergency button yes, Mom. Nobody is looking after you, Mom? Alone?”

I smiled, holding back bitterly. My heart is getting restless. Until the afternoon Mas Hadi had not come.

[There was an event on RT field. The kids don't want to go.] I read Mas Hadi's message that afternoon full of proclamation.

Trying to understand the feelings of Ivan and Izal who want to play and gather with his friends on the field, in order to welcome the Independence Day Indonesia commemoration competition. I fell silent, enjoying the images sent by the RT group.

The smiles and laughter of the entire population welcomed Independence Day were recorded cheerfully. There is pain, but not pain in the stomach. I felt a warm liquid melt flowing from the tip of the eyelid.

I'm tergugu. A video shows a woman singing dangdut with her melodious voice. Mas Hadi sat with the other fathers watching enthusiastically, while the children ran in the field. Their low voices were accompanied by music.

A woman I know very well. “Nofi!” I screamed in my heart as I watched her sing while dancing.

My palm gripped the bed iron. The jarring clamor held back furious. I turned off the phone and put it under the pillow. Nofi's melodious voice rang.

[Darling, opo kowe krungu jerite atiku?

Wishing you back

Honey, change my hair

Ra will fade tresnoku

Wes don't cobo nglalekke jenengmu soko atiku

Sak tenane ra ngapusi stuffing tresno sliramu

Pepuja neng ati nanging kowe

Kowe sing won't even jebul saiki

Kowe mblenjani promise

Jare seperati nanging opo evidences

Kowe medot tresnoku for liyo wedokan

Yowes ora popo God willing I am iso, lilo

Meh sambat kalih sinten

Yen sampun mekaten

Pining my urip

I'm welasno, kangmas

I'm mesakno, I

I cry

Nganti metu youh getih white]

I sobbed when I realized, until tenpm Mas Hadi and the children had not arrived. My husband chose to watch Nofi sing in the field instead of going to the hospital.

[The work is not finished.]

I clutched the iron bed getting stronger. “Argh!”