Chapter Two
The banging at the janitor's door jolted me back to the present.
"Dr. Hemsworth. Chief wants you in his office." I heard the footsteps receding and sighed.
Unless you were new, and even then it wouldn't be long before you found out that if you couldn't find me in my office, this was the next place to check. Still, it didn't stop me from ignoring anyone who knocked whenever I needed a minute alone.
I pulled the sleeve of my scrubs down, and raised my arm to my mouth.
What do you think you're doing, Dr. Hemsworth? Throwing everything away?
It's already difficult enough that you have autism; don't you know that if anyone finds out you're mentally ill, that could be the end of your career?
I was in charge of myself. I had beat this depression for so many years, and I wasn't going to allow it to make me its slave again. I sat there, my arm in my mouth, then I slowly lowered it.
"My name is Emilia Hemsworth. I am in charge of myself; I am a valuable human being; I am honorable;I am brilliant; I am calm, and productive; I am filled with peace; I extend grace to everyone with warmth and kindness."
I repeated the mindfulness words and I practiced the breathing exercises Mrs. Brown had taught me so many years ago. After five minutes, I was calm enough to see Dr. Robinson.
Mrs. Brown had been instrumental in my being able to socialize with people, even if it were at a minimal level.
She had told me that with my photographic memory I could be anything I wanted to be. Still, whatever I did, there was no escaping human contact.
After I was diagnosed with autism, everyone understood why I did not want to be near other people, and also why I didn't understand social cues that were easy for everyone else to get.
Mrs. Brown spent hours and days teaching me the right response to every possible social interaction and with enough practice, I could mask most of my autistic symptoms successfully.
But the one symptom I could never overcome was the obsession NOT to be touched.
I walked down the corridor and gave a sharp knock on the door before stepping in at Mr. Robinson's terse "Come in". Pushing my fingers in my white coat pocket to hide any nerves I still felt, I forced myself to look him in the eyes.
"You did well today with the patient."
I pierced my lips slightly together in what I hoped was an acceptable smile and nodded.
"If it weren't for you, we would never have picked up on the real diagnosis and what was the best surgery to give. You saved one more life today."
I nodded, remembering Mrs. Brown's lessons and how I was supposed to say thank you and not my usual frank response like, "I was only doing what was in the medical books and if you had been observant, you would have noticed it as well."
"We have a new case on its way to the hospital as we speak." He pushed the file toward me.
I reached for it and flipped it open. My brows creased deeper as I read more.
"This patient has…"
"Yes. It's a very rare form of cancer but nevertheless shows up occasionally."
I continued to study the test results.
"He went into a coma this morning and is being flown here as we speak."
His phone rang and he put it to his ear, listened, said, "thank you. We'll be there in 2 minutes," and placed the phone back. He stood up.
"The other doctors are waiting for us in the briefing room."
The room was semi-dark and the eight other specialist doctors were already seated when we got there. I took the only empty seat left while Dr. Robinson walked to the front and pointed to the picture on the screen.
"As you can see when you look at this patient's scan, here," he pointed, "and here," he pointed again, "there are substances we can only assume are clots that should not be there at all." The doctors picked up the IPads that were laying on the table in front of them and squinted at the image.
"This is very complex, even for us and it will take all we know to save this man's life."
Dr. Robinson pressed the switch and a man's face appeared on the screen. I was immediately fascinated by it. I stared at the angles of his cheekbones and the line from his perfectly arched brows, to the bridge of his nose, to his full lips.
Famous Greek philosopher Galileo had given mankind the dimensions for a perfect face.
The patient, Liam Blaine, was the closest I had ever seen to Galileo's standard. He was gorgeous, yet his looks were not what drew me to him. It was his eyes. They were deep sea blue and pulled me in like a merciless whirlwind.
Like a zombie, I was only half aware of the other people in the room when I stood up and walked toward Liam's projected face. My palm reached out to touch his cheek.
Just then, the lights flicked on and Dr. Robinson cleared his throat. I hurried back to my seat, eyes on the floor. I still found it difficult when every eye in the room was on me.
Dr. Robinson waited for me to sit down, then looked around the room. "You are the best in the United States, and if anyone can save this man's life, you can. I need every idea possible. The patient will be here in 40 minutes and must undergo surgery immediately. Emilia, you're with me."
He walked out, and I hurried after him.
I caught up with him in the hallway and we walked in sync in that urgent manner of every doctor.
"Any ideas?"
I shook my head.
"Well, go over all those books in your head and find a reference we can use. This patient is an important donor and we can't let him down. But that's not all, Emilia. He is a close friend's son."
He stopped talking. "What was all that about in the room? Touching Liam's face like that."
I looked at him. We were about the same height and it was easy to look at his eyes.
"You reject all human contact. Hell, you just ran away from a room because a grateful wife wanted to hug you. And then you walk across a room to touch someone on the face? I know it was just a projected image but still, that's very odd."
I couldn't say anything because I had no explanation for what I did.
"Well, be advised that a very different-looking man is about to come into this hospital. And seeing as you are so enchanted by him, you can be the first to speak with him about his surgery when he gets here."
I started to protest, but one glance from Dr. Robinson and I swallowed the words.
Part of the condition for being accepted for this job was that I would continue to make visible progress, especially in daily interactions with patients and Dr. Robinson had informed Mrs. Brown that he would place me in situations that would help me do better socially.
He gave me a quick glance, muttered, "Be in my office as soon as possible with your ideas," and disappeared through his glass door, shutting it behind him.
I stared at his name calligraphed with black ink. "Dr. Frank Robinson. Chief of Surgery".
Surgery. The word catapulted me to another place. I was studying for finals, and found a book in the library's reference section. It had some old techniques the Greeks and Mayans had used.
Egyptians were more famous for their medicine, but Maya was where to look if you wanted some unique techniques for accessing parts of the body that were difficult to reach. Especially in a fragile patient.
In my mind, I opened the book and flipped the pages, just as I had done that day. I stopped when I got to the page I wanted and looked down at the pictures. Still projecting from my mind, I attempted the three surgeries in the book and I immediately saw that the first two would not work.
The third one had a 63% chance, but only if the best surgeon were to perform it. Dr. Robinson's percentage of successful surgeries was two times more than any other doctor in the hospital, so he was the obvious choice.
Any mistake meant that Liam would die instantly, and given how deteriorated his health had become, heart failure during the procedure was very likely.
I pushed Dr. Robinson's door open and he looked up at me with a beam.
Briskly, I explained my idea to him and he immediately reconvened all the other doctors on the team.
"Dr. Emilia has found a way to do this surgery. But I see several loopholes, besides the obvious fact that it has a 63% success rate." He explained the procedure to them, the problems we were likely to encounter during surgery, then asked for possible solutions.
We talked back and forth for a few minutes before Dr. Robinson made a final decision on what procedure we would take.
A nurse peeped in and said, "The patient is here."
"Let's make history, guys. Keep steady hands in there and a clear mind."
Doctors always have a sense of urgency about their work. I guess it's because time is of essence when it came to a person's life.
Our disposition immediately shifted to surgery mode, and everyone rushed out of the room to prepare.
Dr. Robinson barked over his shoulder. "Emilia, stay close to me. Make sure I have the right instrument at all times and watch my navigation closely."I nodded.
"But first, go talk to Liam. I already talked to him, but you do it again. Explain the procedure to him and make sure he is calm. I don't need any pressure spikes while in there." He nodded behind me and I turned to see two medical personnel wheeling a gurney toward me. I stepped close enough and there was the face I had been looking at on a projected screen a few minutes ago. They stopped the gurney right in front of me.
Only this time, the handsome lines and softly curved features were gout and his eyes and cheeks had sunken in. He was completely bald, and this man was so thin and white that it was evident even to untrained eyes that he was just a few breaths away from becoming a corpse. I took a deep breath and looked down at him.