She had put it very classily.
"It's a procedure that involves handling an abscess in sensitive areas," she explains.
But the simple procedure called for Nisa to be warded for at least one night at KK Women's and Children's Hospital.
That also meant peer support was needed, and I was quick to activate the troop.
By the time Stanley my sex bunny friend responded, I was already busy coordinating ward visits, passing on preliminary info about Nisa's condition and zooming in on a time to see her among our large network of common friends.
But I was distinctly aware that during my text exchanges with Stanley, the word "pussy" had been used multiple times, one such occasion related directly to Nisa's medical condition and another was used to describe the genre of the hospital.
It was soon ward visit day, and I found myself, straight best friend Terry and Stanley to be the earliest visitors.
Nisa had opted to be in a six-bed ward where she felt more comforted amidst people.
When we arrived, Nisa was in deep sleep, like someone had spiked her long island tea but went overboard with the dose.
Stanley looked around the hospital, disappointed by Nisa's fellow patients.
"Welcome to pussy paradise," he whispered distastefully, using the term so much that he's singlehandedly placed it at the top of the most-used-words chart, an effort that would surely result in the word trending in our social circle for the next couple of days.
Just then, a heavyset matron of a nurse ambled passed us to dispense medicine to bed 20, a scrawny woman who looks too happy to be in a hospital.
Bed 20 is a scrawny Chinese woman who is always getting anyone who walks past her to take wefies with her.
"Whatever she's having, I want some of those," Stanley says quietly to me, before smiling sunnily under his mask at Bed 20 who was waving at Stanley.
Terry made himself comfortable on a chair beside Nisa, careful not to wake the recuperating woman of Bed 25.
"Do you think I'll ever find men in the vicinity if I open up my grindr app?" Stanley asks me, looking really bored.
Then he turns his attention to Nisa and thinks out loud.
"I wonder how big the abscess was on Nisa's pu -"
Just then, with precise timing that only God can arrange and mercifully intervene, Nisa stirred to consciousness.
"She's alive!" Stanley says, rejoicing.
Bed 20 responds naturally with a yelp of "yay".
Nisa reacted by grunting and rubbing her eyes.
She took 15 seconds to regain her composure, then smiled at us who have by then circled her bed.
"First things first," Stanley says.
"On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad does it hurt?"
Turns out, Nisa - who has a high threshold for pain and pain-in-the-asses - rates her situation at 8.
Stanley winces and instinctively crossed his legs tightly like he needed to pee.
"But it's better now," Nisa says, adding "they injected strong antibiotics into my body so I'm maybe at a 3 now?"
Never one to miss an opportunity, Stanley quips: "If it were to me, I'll be happy to receive both the insertive and oral treatments, but whatever rocks your boat girl."
Nisa, who is too tired to entertain Stanley, smiles weakly at my sex bunny friend.
I couldn't tell whether she was wishing away her pain or Stanley.
But one thing is for sure.
The pain that had been bothering Nisa for months is definitely gone.
Sliced, drained, and stitched up.
The abscess, says Nisa, had been building up due to stress and it reached a point when she could no longer move around and so had to have it removed.
Nisa's mum, who is a retired doctor, had set her up with a skillful surgeon at KK Hospital to have the surgery done.
Never one to miss an opportunity, Stanley quips: "Can Dr Tan fix me up with a doctor who would be investigating my privates too please?"
Nisa looked up and summoned the last dregs of her energy and replied: "Yes, my mum knows many STD specialists."
Everyone - including Bed 20 - laughed except Stanley who looked deflated.
That morning, the group of us spent hours talking to Nisa, and reminding one another the importance of good health.
After age 40, we should all be mindful that hospitalisation would be a part of our lives moving forward.
The depressing topic made the group very quiet for a while.
Leave it to Stanley, the martyr who chose to break the silence.
"You know, Nisa, you'll have to refrain from touching yourself down there in the next few days. In fact, you'll have to leave your sensitive bits alone for a while."
From the corner of my eyes, I saw Bed 20 lean in for a better listen.
"Although if I were you, I would probably die from not being able to touch myself down there," Stanley says.
Nisa looks at Bed 20 who is giggling quietly to herself, then to Stanley who has moved on to swiping his phone for potential hookups, and finally to me and Terry.
"Save me," she mouthed the words, then sank her head deep into her pillow.
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Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people
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