Honey Semanis Tubes

FURTHER AWAY

Surya walked straight through the RS wards. Siloam Srivijaya's. His steps were accompanied by several nurses who brought his visitation map this morning. The man of Iranian descent has such an amazing charm that every time he walks with the nurses, not a few people will give way or stop for a moment to just look at him.

Arriving at the workspace, he saw several incoming calls from Kinanti. WhatsApp messages from Kinanti he read first. The message that contains today's lunch invitation. However, the message was only read without a chance to be answered because some patients seized his attention.

Surya is still paying attention to the results of electroencephalogram (EEG) pediatric patients who have seizures. One in five nurses, all women, put their medical records on the table. Surya takes the green map, then opens it and matches with the data on the computer screen. He watched the striped footage for quite a while.

“Ion currents in brain neurons are abnormal. There are indications of impaired brain function in the right frontosentrotemporal region,” explained Surya to some of his assistants.

The young doctor continued to explain his diagnosis followed by their nods, some of which were noted in their respective pocketbooks.

“So, is there any chance this patient could potentially be epiloptogenic, Doc?” The bespectacled nurse who was standing to the right asked while taking notes in the notebook.

“Most likely, yes. But, we will refer to the neurology department first. Maybe after that, through MRI more clearly visible source of the disease.” Surya replied while writing some drug therapy as a seizure prevention.

After writing a visit diagnosis of all of her inpatients, the nurses left Surya in the practice room. At first glance, he glanced at the time pointer on his left wrist. There was still fifteen minutes before his practice schedule at the polyclinic began.

He took the phone from behind his sneli pocket, then searched for Honey's name and tapped on the dial icon on the screen, trying to call back Kinanti an hour ago. It didn't take long, the connecting tone lifted.

“Yes, Mas. How can I have lunch today?” A direct look at the core of no-nonsense talk.

“Yes, Honey. Want in a regular place or where?” Surya put the phone between his ear and shoulder. His hands were still busy signing a number of medical records of patients.

“Ke River Side, yes. I want seafood, nih.”

“Okay. Two hours to pick up, yeah. But, you remind me again half an hour before.”

“Okay. Kinan wait, yes, Mas.”

“Iya. Now break first, yes. The poly schedule. Bye.”

Surya disconnected the connection, then let out a long sigh refracting his tiredness away. It stretches out the hands and feet to relax the slightly tense muscles. He shuffled from the chair, then spread his gaze out the window.

Not long after, he turned his sweeping gaze toward the 4x6-meter room that had been occupied for the past seven years. The interior is dominated by a light purple strip of white, making the room different from other poly rooms.

As a pediatrician, of course, his work space must be made as attractive as possible. In fact, some ornaments such as cloud hangers and rainbows on the examination bed, height gauges from the cartoon giraffe, Surya himself who arranged it.

For the finishing touch, cartoon-patterned wallpaper adorns the right side of the practice room, blending in with hundreds of books neatly lined up on white shelves. Surya hopes the room seems child-friendly so it does not look as scary as when he was treated as a child first.

***

Surya's busyness in the hospital really makes him have to be patient to find free time. He called Surya, reminding about their date today, but the call was cut off. It seems, Surya is being connected with another call.

Kinanti continued to step towards the office lobby.

Half an hour passed, Surya was still unable to be contacted. Some of the employees who were going out for the afternoon break came across him.

“Elu, don't go with your husband, Kin?” Bena's figure suddenly appeared from the exit.

“This again waiting for Mas Surya pick up. But, how long, huh? Did he forget, huh?” Kinanti grumbled with a bit of frustration.

“Kena jammed kaliii. You just wait, I unplug it first, yeah. Since you mo go both, I mo kongkow in a new restaurant with Laras, nih!” Bena passed by while waving his hand towards his car.

“Well, okay, you two make a no-jacking deal!”

“Udah, you're with your husband, gih!” The girl ran around with a fleeting smile, then turned on the car horn as she passed Kinanti who was still standing waiting.

Not long ago, the beloved shoots of ulam arrived. The mobile phone ringed, the name of Surya written there. Kinanti walked down the steps of the lobby, walking towards a metallic black SUV that had been parked in front of her. He approached the car, but suddenly his steps stopped due to the sound of Surya on the other end of the phone,

“Yes, Mas—”

“Honey, excuse me, yes. There's SC Cito. Only a pediatrician who stands by here to accompany obgyn doctors. We'll reset the lunch tomorrow, yeah. Mas break first, yes.” The tone on the other end of the phone sounded hurried.

“But, Mas ...”

The phone connection was cut off, leaving a lump of disappointment and driving away the despair that had stopped. Kinanti thought the black SUV belonged to her husband. He even waved his hand at the car. However, the phone just confirmed that it was not Surya's car.

After that, the windshield of the front left window of the car went down slowly. Aksar took off his sunglasses behind the wheel. The man smiled. Her smile was warm as bright as the sun.

Kinanti was stunned, the presence of Aksar as if incarnated into the shadow of Surya. The same perfume, the same car, the same call, and the same smile. I don't know what the two of them have in common that he will meet later.

The woman with the salivary buds took a few steps back and turned to climb the steps of the lobby. Seeing that, Aksar's gusts descended running towards Kinanti, trying to restrain the woman.

Kinanti's right arm was restrained by Aksar's hand. Again, they looked. There was an unusual gurgle that was beating on Kinanti's chest.

Especially when Aksar said, “Kinan, why avoid? Would Miss Editor have lunch with me?”

***