This rare condition may cause paralysis and lead to death but most people get better and have few lasting problems.

Nerves are attacked by your body's own defense system...Patients usually reach the point of weakness or paralysis days or weeks after the first symptoms occur... Patients may need to wait 3 to 6 months to recover and several months before you can return to your regular activities... Long term weakness or balance problems... Patients may need help with chores and regular activities...

Mikaeel exited the article and closed his laptop.

He was only too thankful that Hoori's parents paid for her medical aid. He just would not be able to afford it at the moment-  not with Imtiyaaz siphoning out all his savings. He needed to fix up his damned problem and he needed to do it fast.

And he was supposed to be the one with the government contract.

If only their mother knew just what shit Imtiyaaz was in, she would stop praising him till the fucking ends of the earth.

Their mother was ignorant to the fact that her oldest daughter in law was a blood sucking leech who drained her son dry- regardless of the fact that he was earning an annual 6 figure salary. His mother didn't think anything of the mansion in Sandhurst or the new Mercedes every year or the private chef. She only thought of her son's wonderful achievements and that if he could live in Sandhurst, it must mean he was more than set for life.

Another wonderful fact she loved baiting Mikaeel with. He could only afford a townhouse in Kelvin. That too, a one-bedroom townhouse.

Kelvin was in fucking Sandton!

It wasn't central Sandton but still...

What he failed to mention was that he had moved as far away from his mother as he possibly could and Kelvin seemed just perfect for him.

He could afford it though.

 He could afford the flat in Sandton and the new car but he didn't want it. He was perfectly content with his car. It was not as if he was driving a bloody Opel. He drove a BMW! And he would not change it until his service plan ran out like a normal person. All of them could afford the high life. Him, his siblings, his cousins- They had all invested in the company when their trust fund came in and they were all forced to buy a property somewhere. And at 21, he didn't care about the prestigious location. He only cared about getting as far as hell away from his family as he could.

None of them really needed to work, as far as he could tell. The company raked in more than enough money to see them and 3 more generations through. So he did what he loved doing. Maybe he chose microbiology to spite his mother-just a little bit- but he genuinely loved it. He loved working as a lab tech for Lancet. That was about as close to his dream as he would get.

 If his mother really knew what he wanted to do, she would shoot through the roof.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, annoyed at the predicament he found himself in.

Now he would have to drive all the way to Waterfall Estates to visit Hoori- A drive he detested at that.

It would seriously cut into his studying. He knew she wouldn't mind if he didn't visit at all but her uncle would probably kill him slowly if he didn't.

He hoped he still remembered the house. It had been a year since he had even been there...

She walked out the house with a straight cut dress in a lighter shade of coral. It was made entirely of lace and the bottom swished against her legs every time she moved.Her hair was combed to the side- a large, ornate clip decorated with tiny pearls held it in place against the gentle breeze that made the grass sway.

It was a small reception. With only his parents, siblings and grandparents on the invitation list. His mother almost had a fit when they requested a small function in their garden. His father happily footed the bill, considering the fact that he only had to pay for the food and 2 floral arrangements. But his mother...

She couldn't believe the audacity of Hoori's family. Who didn't want their family at the wedding?

She was just pissed because she didn't have a chance to show off with an elaborate do.

Mikaeel was more than fine with the arrangement though. He was only too happy knowing no one would be there to witness their discomfort around the other.

He looked down at her feet, surprised to see flat, sparkly sandals peeking out of the bottom of her dress. Was she really that tall that she was almost his height with flats? How had he not actually noticed that before?

He had to admit it though;  she really did look very pretty.

"Your family doesn't have a problem that they aren't invited?" He asked as soon as they sat down at their places.

"This is my family." He had to strain his ears to hear her amidst the noise around them. He looked around him and spotted only 8 people from her side.

"This is all of them?" He asked, dubiously.

"My other three cousins are overseas. These two were the only ones here."

"Oh."

She almost ran her fingers through her hair before she realised that she really shouldn't. "Do you have a very big family?"

"Ya. My Dad has five brothers and two sisters and my Mum has 6 sisters."

"Oh. That's nice." She smiled at him nervously before she looked back down at her food.

"Uh huh. I guess so."

...

"Mrs Ebrahim, before we administer the treatment, I need to talk to you about something."

Hoori looked up at her doctor and wondered if he ever found the time to sleep.

"I don't want you to have unrealistic expectations about it. It's not going to cure your GBS. When you wake up tomorrow, you still won't be able to walk." He had to be blunt about the facts. "You won't even walk next week and maybe not even the week after that-unless you have help."

She breathed a pained sigh, feeling the force of his words hit her like a brick.

"What this will do, however, is it will lessen the severity of it. Remember we spoke about how your symptoms need to reach its peak before you can get better?"

Hoori nodded slowly, still feeling too shy to speak. She sounded as if she was drunk on something and no matter how hard she tried, she just could not speak clearly.

"The immunoglobulin therapy will drop that peak so hopefully your condition can plateau before it reaches complete paralysis." He felt awful giving her the hard facts. She looked as if she was a second away from crying and he never could stomach crying. "Also, we don't want this to be potentially fatal." He took off his spectacles to rub his eyes. "I didn't tell you this yesterday because I didn't want to alarm you too soon."

Hoori looked almost pale as he said the word fatal.

"Sometimes, the muscles controlling your breathing could get affected too and that's when GBS can be fatal."

She was thankful he didn't mention it the previous day. She would have been a ball of nerves waiting for some sort of treatment. 

Like Jannat the day before her first chemo treatment.

"I'm scared." She paced the carpet of Hoori's room, wearing it down to threads. "I don't want chemo. I don't want to lose my hair and throw up and..."

"I know you're scared but it's... you need it and I'll be with you."

"I know Hoori but," she sat down on the bed, her leg tapping nervously. "I'm worried. What if it doesn't work?"

"Don't think like that."

"I don't know what else to think! I'm going out of my mind. I just want it to be over and done with." She stood up again, the nerves not allowing her to stay still.

"...Monitoring your heartbeat and breathing and it looks good. But I want to monitor you again after the therapy. And if I'm happy, you'll get your discharge."

"Okay." She finally spoke, happy that she could at least understand herself.

"Good. Let's get this drip in then."

...

"Mikaeel, when was the last time you had a proper meal?" His mother's voice blared over his phone.

"Why?"

"I think it's about time you visited us. It's been almost a month, hasn't it?"

"Fine. What time should I come?"

"Supper is at 8. Ilhaam and Imti will be here as well. Don't be late." She said before she hung up.

"I won't be." He immediately dialed Ihsaan's number.

"Hello." He sounded as if he had just woken up.

"Did you just wake up?" Mikaeel looked down at his watch. It was 2 in the afternoon.

"Yup."

"Don't you work on Saturdays?" The lazy bastard.

"No. So, what's happening?"

"We're going out tonight."

"Uhm... okay. What time?"

"After I come home from my parent's house."

"Alright.Phone me." He hung up the phone.

The shit probably went straight back to sleep.

...

Mikaeel scoffed as he parked next to his brother's car. Could he and his wife be any more pretentious? He knew for a fact that they drove matching cars which had been purchased a few months earlier and he also knew for a fact that his brother couldn't make the payments.

He was so tempted... so, so tempted to just break of the delicate little side mirror. But he would probably have to pay for the repairs since his brother couldn't afford it.

"Assalaam u Alaykum." Imti opened the door for him, after bloody 10 minutes of waiting.

"Wa alaykum salaam. Howsit?" Mikaeel asked, walking away before his brother could actually answer.

"Howsit boy?" His father greeted him from the lounge.

"Alright Dad. You?"

"Okay. How's Hoori?"

"She's okay. She might be discharged tomorrow." He shrugged. He didn't visit her but her uncle had phoned him to confirm the arrangements.

"Good, good. She's staying at home?"

"No. She'll go to her uncle's house for a few weeks."

"Okay. That's good."

"You'll let your wife go somewhere else?" His mother interrupted the conversation with her disdainful nonsense. "Couldn't you hire a nurse for her then she can stay at home."

"That would be impractical. Our room is upstairs. She won't manage." He had discovered long ago to keep his explanations short when it came to his mother. Long-winded explanations only left more room for bigger arguments to arise.

"Now see, if you had a bigger house this wouldn't have happened. Look at Ilhaam. Their house..."

"Mum, I need to get a tissue. Sorry." He walked away before she had actually dismissed him.

"Will you ever let up on him?" His father's annoyance seemed to leak through every word. He ignored whatever it was his mother had to say, preferring to make his way to his old room.

"Uncle Mickey!" Imaad's excited shrill sounded from across the hall.

"Yes Imaad?" He turned around, waiting for the chubby boy to scamper his way over to him.

"My tooth fell out!" He pulled on Mikaeel's shirt, expecting his uncle to pick him up to share in his triumph.

"Really?" Mikaeel asked, once Imaad was settled happily on his shoulders.

"Yup! Do you want to see?" He put his hand in his pocket, pulling out a tissue bundle.

"No, thanks. I believe you." He really did not want to see Imaad's severed tooth. It was probably still full of blood.

"Oh..." He deflated for only a second before his perked up again. "Burhaan got so much of shouting today!" He sounded unusually excited about that particular bit of information.

"Really? Why?"

"I don't know but Mummy was just screaming at him for hours and hour and hours." His little hand flew up smacking Mikaeel on the back of his head.

Who would have thought the quarter pint would have such heavy hands? Mikaeel barely resisted rubbing the back of head as he grimaced at the pain. "Where's everyone else anyway?"

"Uhm..." Imaad considered this very difficult question. "Burhaan and Zaydaan are in the dining room and Zahra and Nuha are... I don't know where they are."

"Want to find them?" He needed to put Imaad down. The kid didn't know just how heavy he really was. What the hell was Ilhaam feeding him?

"Okay!" He bopped Mikaeel on the head again, causing tears to prick at his eyes.

The little...

"Imtiyaaz, how's work going?" His mother asked once everyone was settled at the table.

"It's going okay." He smiled up at his mother, pushing his glasses back up his nose. He should have gone to the optometrist months ago but...

"Don't be modest, Imti!" His wife, Nooreen, knocked his shoulder with her own. "Work is going more than okay!"

Mikaeel looked sceptically at the woman across.

Was she really that delusional?

He didn't know how the hell his brother managed to sleep next to that bloody crazy lady every night. There was something wrong with her.

"I heard Hoori is getting discharged." Imtiyaaz tried changing the subject. He was more than uncomfortable talking about the state of his finances.

"Ya, she's going to stay at her uncle's house." His mother cut in, wrinkling her nose at the thought of the long drive.

"That's good. Her aunty will be able to look after her." He smiled at Mikaeel, knowing it was pissing the shit out of their mother.

"Good?" Saadia reeled back. "Mikaeel could just hire a nurse. I'm sure you can afford it."

"Mum, seriously. What is the big deal?" Mikaeel looked at her, genuinely confused at the fuss she was kicking up.

"The big deal is that I don't want people saying that my son can't look after his own wife!" Her shout shocked Imaad on the other end of the table who promptly dropped his nesquik on the floor.

"Imaad!" Ilhaam stood up, annoyed at the little thing.

"Not my fault!" His started screaming and pointing at his granny.

"Mum, you're the only who thinks that. No one else has time for such sh- rubbish." Mikaeel looked back down at his food, hoping to ignore whatever it was that she had to say.

"Not my fault! Not my fault!" Imaad was still screaming manically from the other end of the table, causing the other kids to look confused between which voice to look at.

"Well it's not bloody brain surgery to know how to look after your wife!" She was hell-bent on pointing out yet another one of her child's flaws.

"She's paralysed! What the hell do I know about looking after someone who's paralysed?" His temper started flaring the more his mother shouted at him.

"Mummy, she shocked me into dropping it."

"Imaad you're so damned clumsy sometimes. Can't you learn to eat properly?"

"Well can't you learn from your brother?"

"Could you four just shut up!" Imtiyaaz stood up, his head pounding at the screaming match between both pairs of mother and son. "Mum, stop being so neurotic." He looked at his brother. "And don't you be rude to Mum. It's ugly." He turned towards Ilhaam and Imaad. "Ilhaam, he's four for God's sake and Imaad help your mother to clean up your mess."

He took an angry breath of air before sitting down stiffly in his seat, ignoring the shocked look on everyone's face.

This family...

"That was kind of hot." Imtiyaaz's wife whispered in his ear.

Mikaeel looked at them, revolted.

...

"Mrs Ebrahim, you ready to go home?"

She nodded her head excitedly. She couldn't wait to get out of that bed and actually shower in her... 

In her aunty's shower.

"I want to wait for your aunty and uncle to come before I can talk about at-home care, okay?"

"No problem," she said softly. She didn't care about her slurring or the pulsating ache beating against the back of her head.

"Oh, Mr Ebrahim. Nice to see you!" Dr. Krenak greeted him jovially.

"You too." Mikaeel shook his hand warily. He was still not a fan of the overtly friendly demeanour.

"I'll leave you two alone for a while." He walked out, unmindful of the tense atmosphere clogging up the room.

"So," Mikaeel looked back to make sure he was gone. "How are you?"

"Okay." She said softly, hoping he wouldn't hear the slur. She was surprised he made it to the hospital before 9 considering the huge bags under his eyes.

"You're getting discharged today?"

"Uhm hmm."

"So, I'll visit you tomorrow."

All she could think about was the way he teased her about her writing and the way he so casually berated her for being boring. She could still see the red mark on his neck in her mind and the bags under his eyes weren't there because he was studying the night before. 

And he still had the audacity to ask if he could visit her.

"Did you hear me?" He asked, annoyed at her silence.

"Don't visit me, please."

"Excuse me?"

"Please Mikaeel, don't force me to have to embarrass myself in front of you any longer. I don't want you to see me like this." She didn't say it out of any compassion for him but rather as a means of self-preservation. She knew she couldn't help it but she just felt so ashamed of the way her body simply would not work and she didn't want to have him witness it.

"Seriously?"

"Ya. I'll call you."

"If you say so." He shrugged, seeming indifferent to what she had just said before he left without another word.

He was right the other day.

What would her readers say if they knew just how pathetically sad her marriage really was?