Being the doctor on duty the day Naim died of tuberculosis, it was up to me to record the instant of death and its cause and to order that in two hours’ time the body be transferred to the mortuary. I didn’t understand why the woman’s wailing became more agonized on hearing the word mortuary. I had noticed that she was pregnant, in fact in the final months.
Being the duty officer, I was required to see that this hospital was kept quiet and I therefore ordered Naim’s wife to stop her shouting and wailing. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t stop, despite the fact that I assured her that the body would not be dissected but would only be disinfected and sprayed with sulphur.
When I was unsuccessful at silencing her either by pleading or ordering, I disclosed to her, while pointing to her abdomen that, as a doctor, I knew that the screaming of a pregnant woman could be dangerous to the fetus. This time alone did she stop, though her tears continued unabated. She had spread the palms of both hands under her swollen abdomen as though gently carrying it.