13/06/2026
"Doc, please close the door."
First time someone was referring to me as a doctor.
Sir, I am a sonographer and not a doctor.
You may have a seat.
"Sonographer, close the door.
The way he said it,
Hmm.
Something was not adding up.
The man sitting in front of me looked like someone life had buttered on both sides.
Clean shirt.
Expensive wristwatch.
Fresh haircut.
Confidence dripping from every corner.
The kind of man Nigerian mothers point at during weddings and say,
"Nne, see responsible man."
Yet his hands were shaking.
Even though it was just Small.
But I noticed.
Years of scanning patients have taught me one thing:
The loudest battles are often the ones nobody can see.
I closed the door.
Could this be one of those unpaid therapy sessions that we conduct quietly as health professionals. I was keen to hear him out.
He looked around as if he wanted to make sure nobody could hear us.
Then he lowered his voice.
"Please, I don't want anybody to know."
My mind immediately started racing.
Health professionals are premium secrete keepers. There is nothing I have not heard in this scan room. More especially infidelity.
However, it all ends in the scan room.
What exactly was making this grown man look like someone carrying a bag of cement on his chest?
" what is going on sir," I said gently.
He forced a smile.
Then he said,
"My wife and I have been trying for a baby."
I nodded.
That wasn't unusual.
I looked at chaperone.
My chaperone returned the look as of we both could read our minds.
But then he added,
"And there is another problem."
He looked at the floor.
Then at the wall, then my chaperone. Is he supposed to be here he pointed at Uchenna who was my assistant.
Yes, He is here to witness the examination and cover as a security for you and me.
"Ok, he said.
My ears were itching to hear what he had to say but at the same time, I would rather not add more secrets to the ones I already carry around.
Finally he whispered,
"Sometimes, when it matters most,nothing happens."
I started searching my brain to understand where he was driving at.
Then he said, My p3n1s is not working.
Gbagam
Gbagam
Gbagam
The mighty iroko tree had finally revealed where the termites were eating it from.
Chi ewere ehihie jie.
He told me his wife thought he was no longer attracted to her.
His in-laws had started dropping "accidental" comments.
Friends were announcing pregnancies every other week.
Family WhatsApp groups had become a battlefield.
Every wedding he attended came with the same question.
"So when are we carrying your own baby?"
Kai!
If questions k1lled, some relatives would be serial offenders.
He even said someone offered him a concotion at a child dedication.
He said,
"Sometimes I pretend to be asleep because I am afraid of disappointing my wife."
Ewo!
What is marriage without premium wongoring.
Wongo papa come and see o.
At that moment, this was no longer about a scan.
This was a man whose confidence had been leaking away drop by drop.
How can I help him now.
If you have read to this point, Comment, Help him mummy.
I proceeded with the scan.
As sonographers, we are trained to keep a straight face.
But inside?
Our minds can be running faster than Lagos traffic.
I moved the probe carefully.
Scanning.
Measuring.
Observing.
Then I saw the possible cause of his probl3m.
A significant varicocele.
Enlarged veins around the testicle.
Not the end of the world.
But definitely something worth investigating further.
I completed the scan.
He sat up.
The look on his face?
The look of a man waiting for a court judgment.
"What did you see?"
I explained my findings and told him to see his doctor for further evaluation.
As he stood to leave, he paused at the door.
Then he said something I will never forget.
"Thank you."
I smiled.
"For what sir?" I was just doing my job
He swallowed hard.
Then said,
"Thank you for treating me like a patient and not a failure."
Nna ehn.
Chai.
Chai.
Chai.
When i got home, I looked at leboo, He was bringing out his tongue like a serpent. See this boy, your mates are having problems with their p3n1s. Your own is always wanting to work 24/7. Get out of my sight.
FYI
Fiction.
