Speedeet and Wilar were supposed to be watching the Women’s T20 match on TV. Guyana versus Jamaica, and Captain Campbelle was batting.

But then Speedeet’s phone buzzed.

“Nani need me go clinic with she,” Speedeet said, reading the message. “Blood pressure check.”

Wilar shrugged. “Match almost done anyway. We winning.”

They found Nani at the bus stop, clutching her patient card — the worn folder that survived twenty years of clinic visits.

“You boys coming? Good. Plenty confusion these days.”

The polyclinic had TWO lines.

“New system here! Old system there!” the security guard shouted.

“Register for what?” Nani asked.

A woman turned around. “Everything digital now. Computer system. But if you ain’t register yet, you got to join the other line first.”

Nani looked at her folder. “I have this since 2006.”

“Don’t matter. Everybody fresh.”

Forty-five minutes later, they reached a desk with a brand-new laptop.

The young woman typed Nani’s information, then opened the patient folder. She frowned at twenty years of handwritten notes, faded prescriptions, and coffee-stained test results.

“I can only enter what I can read.”

“That say ‘hypertension,’” Nani pointed. “And that say ‘reduce salt.’”

Fifteen minutes of squinting later: “Okay, you’re in the system. Take this number for the other line.”

“But I had 10 o’clock appointment!”

“That was old system. Now you wait for the next available.”

It was 11:30.

While Nani waited, the boys explored. Near the corner, an older man argued with a nurse.

“What you mean you can’t find my X-ray? I take it LAST MONTH!”

“Sir, it hasn’t been migrated yet.”

“So I got to take ANOTHER one?”

Speedeet whispered to Wilar: “Progress messy, eh?”

“My father always say that.”

At 1:15, Nani finally saw the doctor — a young woman staring at a computer screen.

“Mrs. Persaud? Let me pull up your file…”

Type. Click. Frown. Type again.

“It says you registered today?”

“Today for COMPUTER. But I coming here since 2006.”

“Do you have documentation?”

Nani held up her folder triumphantly. “EVERYTHING in here.”

They went through her handwritten records together. Blood pressure: 138 over 85. Slightly elevated but stable. Same medication continued.

“I’ll enter this in the new system for next time.”

On the bus home, Nani tucked the folder back in her bag.

“You keeping that?” Speedeet asked.

“Until computer prove it could remember good as paper, I keeping my backup.”

Wilar was philosophical. “System probably going be good. Eventually.”

“Eventually don’t help Nani today,” Speedeet said.

They passed construction on Main Street — another hotel going up.

“Progress everywhere,” Wilar observed.

“Messy progress,” Speedeet corrected.

Nani smiled. “When I was girl, no clinic in the village. Had to travel hours. Now we complaining computer too slow.” She paused. “Different problems. Maybe better problems.”

The bus rumbled on while Nani held her twenty years of history close, waiting for the future to catch up with the past.

Speedeet & Wilar appears every Sunday.