Naguib Mahfouz - The Mirage

“Had you treated the patient at any previous time?”

“No.”

“Not even in connection with this final illness?”

“No. However, I learned that she’d been ill in bed for one night and that they thought she had a cold.”

“Has this family been in the habit of calling on you when one of its members falls ill?”

“This has never happened before. However, I’ve only been practicing medicine for a little over a year, and I don’t recall anyone in the family having fallen ill during this period of time.”

“Do you think that if any of them had fallen ill, they would have called on you?”

“The fact is that they did call on me the first time they were faced with this situation.”

“Don’t they know what your specialization is?”

“Yes, they do. However, the seriousness of the patient’s condition caused the mother to seek out my help due to the fact that my clinic is nearby, and because I’m her relative.”

“I don’t see anything in these circumstances that might influence one’s choice of physician. Besides, how could you yourself agree to treat a pathological condition that you knew to be outside your area of expertise? In such circumstances, don’t doctors generally recommend that the appropriate doctor be called upon?”

“I thought it most fitting to answer the call right away. Consequently, I went with the idea that it was a case of fainting, a severe stomachache, or something of that nature, and which wouldn’t be difficult for any doctor to treat. I believe this is what the people who called on me were thinking as well.”

“However, you found the situation to be more serious than you had expected. So what did you do?”

At this point the doctor refrained from answering. Instead, he lowered his head in embarrassment, as if he were pondering the matter.

“Why didn’t you recommend that a surgeon be called?” asked the interrogator.

“The operation needed to be performed without delay.”

“Had you done any surgeries prior to this?”

“In medical school, of course.”

“I mean, since then.”

“No.”

“I can hardly imagine your having undertaken to perform this dangerous operation!”

In a slightly altered, irritable tone of voice, Dr. Amin said, “I told you that the patient’s condition was critical, and that it required that the operation be performed without delay!”

“And how did you obtain the necessary medical instruments? Were they in your clinic?”

For the first time, the doctor hesitated before replying.

Then he said, “No.”

“How did you get them, then?”

“From a colleague of mine.”

“A surgeon?”

“Yes.”

“And why didn’t you bring the colleague himself?”

“He was scheduled to do other work at the same time.”

“Who might this doctor be?”

He hesitated again. Then his pallid face flushed and in a low voice he said, “The fact is, I brought them from the hospital, from the Fuad I Hospital.”

“Aside from the question of whether this behavior was sound from an administrative point of view, wouldn’t it have been more appropriate for you — since you must have realized that you’d have to spend some time getting the instruments in an illegitimate manner — wouldn’t it have been more appropriate for you to call a surgeon, especially in view of the fact that calling him wouldn’t have taken any more time than it would take to bring the instruments?”

He thought for some time. Then, obviously unsettled, he said, “I was so upset over the patient’s condition, I didn’t think about that.”

“It would be more logical to say that precisely because you were upset over her condition, you should have thought about it. Supposing what you say is true, why didn’t you take the patient to the hospital, where there are plenty of specialists?”

“Her mother wouldn’t agree to have her taken to the hospital.”

“Wouldn’t this have been less dangerous than placing her in the hands of someone with no experience? However, we’ll leave this issue aside for now.…”

The interrogator spread out a piece of paper before him and scanned its contents.

Then he sat up straight and said, “What do you think of this? I’m reviewing the medical examiner’s report, which asserts that an inflammation of the peritoneum doesn’t call for the kind of haste you’re talking about. In other words, it’s different from situations such as certain cases of appendicitis, for example. What do you say about that?”

The doctor fell into a deep silence, while the gleam in his eyes revealed his disquiet and the intensity of his thoughts.

The interrogator went on, saying, “The report also says that this operation takes several hours to prepare for, during which time the patient is generally given an enema. Were you not aware of these basic principles relating to the art of surgery?”

“I learned that the patient had been given an enema yesterday evening, and that she hadn’t eaten anything since that time.”

“Was she given the enema in preparation for the operation?”

“No. It was given to her based on the fact that she was thought to have a cold. As for the idea of the operation, it didn’t come up until after I arrived this morning.”

At this point I began paying even closer attention, and I was amazed that no one had mentioned to me that my wife had been given an enema. I remembered how she’d been kept in this house despite the fact that she could have come home, if even in a taxi, and an ominous sense of uncertainty and confusion came over me.

Then the interrogator said, “What I have here is an operation that was performed with maniacal speed for no known technical reason, by a doctor who isn’t a surgeon and who could, no doubt, have called on a surgeon with the proper qualifications. What is the meaning of this?”

The interrogator cast the doctor a cold, penetrating look. I looked back and forth between the two men with a sense of growing anxiety and a strange sort of fear, and I was in such turmoil that I tensed up all over.

Then I heard the interrogator say, “I’m wondering why it was deemed necessary for you in particular to perform this operation, and at this particular time?”

He remained silent for some time, then continued, “And what was the cause of death?”

“A puncture in the peritoneum.”

“The medical examiner states otherwise,” rejoined the interrogator coldly.

“What might the cause be, then?” asked an indignant Dr. Amin Rida.

“That’s a question you’d best answer for me yourself!”

In the same tense, nervous tone of voice, the doctor said, “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I’ll clarify the matter for you, then. The medical examiner states that the peritoneum was, in fact, punctured, but that there was no pathology or inflammation to be seen in it. In fact, he states that it required no treatment of any kind, much less surgery.”

“But I performed the operation myself!”

“You performed no operation whatsoever with the exception of puncturing the peritoneum.”

His voice trembling, the doctor said furiously, “Do you mean to say that I punctured the peritoneum for no reason? What’s the meaning of this?”

“You punctured the peritoneum and killed her!”

“In the course of performing the operation.”

“I assure you, you did not perform an operation on the peritoneum.”

“Are you accusing me of pretending to perform the operation in order to kill her?” shouted the doctor in a rage. “Are you accusing me of murder, sir?”

“Yes, I am,” replied the interrogator. “And before long you’ll come around to my point of view. You’ll see for yourself, without any need for my advice, that nothing will be of any use to you but complete honesty and candor.”