Description
Book SynopsisCaptures the heartache and confusion of so many South Africans who feel defeated by the litany of headline horrors; xenophobia, corrective rape, corruption and crime and for many the death sentence that is the public health nightmare.
Trade ReviewI had to leave theatre this morning because I'd developed such severe menstrual cramps I could hardly keep myself from falling over and contaminating the entire operative field. It was odd. Although my periods had reduced to little more than spotting after the endometrial ablation, the monthly cramps had persisted like clockwork, maybe as a reminder that the beast is not dead, only sleeping. Doctor Sage said I should unscrub and go put my head down in the Anaesthetics tea room until the next case arrives. While I was in there I texted Nyasha and asked if she could bring me Ibuprofen from the emergency department. Sister Dlamini sat across the room, watching us as Nyasha took two tablets out of her pocket and offered me her bottled water. I could see she wanted to say something, but I couldn't have anticipated the words that came out of her mouth. 'Sies doctor!' she exclaimed. 'O na le sebete ne? Batho ba ga se batho. You can get sick drinking from their bottles.' I couldn't believe she could say that right in front of Nyasha. 'She's just dumb,' I mumbled to Nyasha as she picked up her stuff and prepared to head back to the emergency department. Nyasha shrugged. 'It's just a period South Africa's in,' she said matter-of-factly. 'Growing pains.' 'Like period pain,' I said, trying to make a joke. 'Yeah.' She gave me a weak smile. 'Like period pain.'
