I was in a deep sleep when my phone rang. I looked around; it was still dark. For a moment, I thought it was my alarm, but it was only 5 a.m. It was not the alarm after all. Instead, it was a phone call from an unknown number. I answered it, and to my surprise, it was a patient I had seen in the clinic the previous week. She had never called before, even though she had my number for emergencies. She asked if I would be in the hospital that morning. Though sleepy, I said yes and asked if she was unwell. She assured me she was fine and wanted to send a gift. What a time for her to share her ideas! I tried to reason with her, but she remained insistent and hung up hastily.

A journey of survival and gratitude

On my way to the hospital, I found myself thinking about her. She was in her forties and came from a village nearly eight hours away. Her husband worked as a labourer in a brick kiln. They had two children early in their marriage, but both died in infancy from an unknown illness. They were never able to have more children. Two years ago, she came to us with Hodgkin lymphoma. We started her on chemotherapy, which she tolerated well. Each visit required a long journey, and she was usually accompanied by a neighbour, a woman fluent in Urdu, who helped navigate the system, managed paperwork, and carefully noted down medications. Her husband rarely came; missing a day’s wages was not an option for him. She completed treatment and did well. It has now been almost two years, and her follow-up scans show complete remission.

An unexpected delivery

When she came last week for review, the ward was busy. This time, she had come alone. After the consultation, she thanked me and mentioned that she would soon send me a gift. I tried to decline politely, but she was very insistent. As a doctor, I often say that habitual phrase: “We just need your prayers.” However, she replied, “Dr saab apne itni mehnat ki ha, aap ka haq banta hai. Main apko tohfa bhejungi.” (“Dr Saab, you have worked so hard; you deserve it. I will send you a gift soon.”)

The next day at noon, her husband came to see me. He was a simple young man from the village with untidy hair, honest eyes, and a wide smile. He greeted me and handed me a carton in a bag. “These are eggs from our hens,” he said. “Please carry them carefully.”

I thanked him. As I lifted the box, I immediately wondered how I would manage the journey home. My patient does not have an idea that her doctor travels long distances by bus and is not even sure if she will get a comfortable seat today. However, the love and effort she invested in sending me that gift made me feel embarrassed. I took those eggs home with as much care as I could, even though the journey was difficult, with all those fragile eggs in a box resting on the lap of a fragile doctor.

The thoughtfulness behind the gift

When I opened it, I found the eggs buried in wheat flour, packed layer by layer to protect them. I could only imagine the dedication and time she must have spent burying those eggs in the flour so carefully. As I removed the flour layer by layer, the beautiful eggs began to reveal themselves. As a city resident, I had never seen such different shades of eggs before. I continued to take out each egg while separating the flour. A few of the eggs were broken, but the majority survived. In total, 38 eggs were intact.

I have received many different types of gifts, but this was one of the most unforgettable. I can imagine the time and thoughtfulness she put into collecting those eggs from under each hen, then packing them and handing them to her husband. I also think about the long journey he made to deliver those eggs to me, along with the expenses he incurred for the round trip. I tried calling her, but the number she had used belonged to a relative. The next day, he went to her house and connected us. When I thanked her for her love, she sounded pleased. I told her that I had two eggs for breakfast, which made her immensely happy. Honestly, in these unpredictable times, with the ongoing war and inflation affecting us and the horrifying news of daily killings, there are moments when I feel overwhelmed by the cruelty and injustice in the world. However, gestures of kindness from innocent patients remind me that love still exists, even today.

Damane Zehra is a radiation oncology resident in Pakistan.