Up above the television a viewing screen told the stages of the operating process. Now she was in the preparatory process. According to the paperwork, the preparatory process was the one where she was being cleaned and anesthetized, allowing the proper amount of time for the drug to take effect. The color was green in the code for the preparatory process.
Time passed, maybe twenty minutes, then the color changed from green into yellow, meaning that the beginning stages of the operation were being initiated. This involved moving her into place, since the operation would be performed with her body lying on its stomach, then the doctor running the hose down her throat. The process lasted approximately the same amount of time, soon the color transformed again.
This time it changed into red, meaning now that the situation had entered into the acting central process of the operation. This part was really serious, the part where one slight misstep could spell the difference between life, life underneath the weight of misfortune, or even death. Seemingly it went on for forty minutes, maybe even an hour or slightly more. I was really tense, glancing back and forth from the pages of a really good book lying about, back over toward the viewing screen. Even though my eyes absorbed the picture before me, my mind registered not the content of the page, since the fact of the operation with all of its possible negatives being performed, loomed so paramount in my mind. The time dragged passed, but finally it changed into a florescent orange, which meant that she was inside the recovery room. My mind then eased upon the very sight of her being there.
Now I could relax... somewhat. Situations could still take a turn for the worst, but any likelihood of that occurring now passed, I reasoned. I could presently read and concentrate on the material directly at hand. The orange phase lasted at least as long as the red phase, but I was relaxed in my contentment, that my dear Thea has made it through the worst of everything. Soon the German surgeon entered into the waiting room where I sat in anticipation.
"All went well, my dear friend," he announced. "Your wife is doing very well and is expected to continue on exceptionally." The surgeon shook his hand, giving emphasis to his words as he spoke in his thick German accent.
Very soon my Thea was wheeled into the room where I awaited her return. Still, she slumbered, appearing to have been heavily anesthetized and sedated. The figure laying before me at the present did not even appear to be her, but appeared more to be a very swelled version of a bruised torso that was once hers. In thirty minutes, she awoke somewhat, slowly moving her head from side to side, moaning as she did.
"My dear husband," she said. "I am in deep pain..., so much pain... it hurts, my honey..., it hurts so much, and there is simply nothing at all that anyone can do."
"Well, I can do something!" I said with emotion. "Nurse!" I proclaimed as I called her through the microphone on my wife's bed. Soon a voice answered, asking what it was that could be done for me. I proceeded to inform her where my wife was in serious pain. Soon a nurse appeared at the door of our room, with syringes in hand for the IV bag.
"This should stop the pain," announced the nurse. "It may take a few minutes for the drug to take effect, but it should stop the pain."
"Please... the pain is becoming more than I can tolerate.... Please!" My wife commenced to weep. Within five minutes she faded off to sleep. The nurse headed back out toward the door, then paused, turning toward me.
"Don't forget to pause before the window down the hall there, fellow. They need more money for the additional pain killer and anti-biotic."
I winced in shock, asking...
"Well how much is it that they need?"
"I do not know," she said. "You'll have to take the matter up with them."
"I will address this matter immediately," I said.
I walked on over to the glass covered window, pausing only to inquire as to the amount needed for my wife's care. The same icy monotone lady appeared to be seated behind the glass. She had an appearance of being chiseled from stone and possessing about as much emotion to go with it. This cold demeanor, more than likely, added at least ten, maybe fifteen years to her overall slouching appearance, speaking descriptively as it was received by the people standing on the opposite side of that glass. I handed her the paperwork from the room number in which we now were. She quickly glanced through it, then glanced sharply upward into my face.
"Sir, that will be another thousand drachmae... minimum, considering all of the advanced drug formulas and anti-biotic she has already been given within the last two days."
I said nothing, but quickly counted out the money in cash. Even for us being well off, the price for all of this was beginning to weigh somewhat heavily. On the inside, I really felt for people who truly did not possess necessary funds to accommodate care. What continually ran through my mind was the question of why. Why did the authorities allow an entity, such as a care facility, to literally extort funds from people in this obvious manner? It was not that I minded compensating professionals for services rendered, but the demand for the prices far exceeded what the largest percentage of any labor-based economy paid out, especially after taxes, which was where the largest majority of people were employed. If any individual attempted to loan money out at these ridiculous rates, they would have been thrown into prison for sharking, extortion, and racketeering.
Why is it that any system worldwide allows outright extortion when it comes in from a corporate direction, rather than the individual person? The act is either wrong, or it is not wrong at all; indeed, there are no exceptions to the rule, if the system worked as it should in a substantiating way, even unto itself. Obviously, one day the extortionist system would all come crashing down, since in fact, it obviously could not substantiate itself long term without any form of check to curtail weak tendencies in mortal character for greed. Until that time arrives, honest, hardworking people will simply have to survive as best they can, I concluded in the silence of intellectual thought.
I made my way back into the room where my wife was still slumbering, who was beginning to awaken. She wreathed from side to side, moaning, saying the pain was gradually returning. When I asked for more painkillers, the doctors claimed where she had received her limit for the time being. More and more my wife wreathed in gut wrenching pain, declaring that the pain was increasing back into its original levels, before the painkillers were administered. Tears were flowing in her eyes when she informed me of the horror in the pain she was feeling, as well as the general experience of the surgery.
The nurse soon arrived at the room, abruptly. She stooped down to remove the IV and retrieve a sample of blood. She drew approximately seven inch and one-half diameter vials of heavy dark blood. My wife protested, declaring she was very anemic and already low on blood as it was. She placed the right palm upon her forehead, wincing in tears, saying she was near the point of fainting. The nurse handed the vials to an assistant, who then stepped out the door with the seven vials. The nurse asked my wife to take the thermometer into her mouth and hold it until she instructed her to open and release it. In the meantime, she seated herself before the computer and commenced to log the latest information into the facility website. After ten minutes, she arose from the computer to retrieve the thermometer.
"Hmm, you are running some temperature... slightly a bit above our professionally deduced limit, so it seems. There most certainly exists a reason as to why. We are going to inspect the blood vials to investigate your white blood cell count, because what we suspect is infection. The question we have is exactly why this infection exists."
Seemingly in an instant the assistant returned with the vials and a report. She handed them to the nurse who scanned the report very carefully before making any comment. She then walked over to my wife, placing her right hand upon her forehead, saying...
"Your white blood count is high. What that means is that we must do a CT scan to investigate what the culprit is. We will hand this CT scan over to Dr. Ekviosis, who will then conduct his own analysis, and give you his deduced conclusion from that information."
The nurse turned toward me, saying as she glared hard in my direction.
"Sir, what you need to do as we prepare for this test and exam, is to pause by the pay window directly down the hall there, and hand that lady this notice. She will then tell you what you must do to initiate this forthcoming procedure."
I took a deep inward breath, slowly releasing it...
"Sure..., let me have it," as I walked past her and snatched it from her hand.
"Look," she snapped in an Americanized accent as I stepped toward the door. I paused instantly, turning around in her direction.
"If you don't want to pay the required fees, then simply don't, dog," she snapped with a sneer. "It is all at your own choice, not our demand."
"But my dear Thea needs healing," I replied. "Her receiving that much from you is all that I ask in return... Heal her..., please do not prolong her horrible suffering."
"Alright then, do what is required without such an attitude... and then we can get on with the process...," the nurse replied harshly with a hard glare on her face.
I snapped around, then headed on down the hallway toward the window, pausing before the glass, then pushing the notice through the slit at the bottom of the glass. The lady behind the window glanced down upon the note, quickly glancing up. She turned toward a computer sitting on a small desk behind her, typed in some information, then snapped back around, glancing quickly up into my eyes.
"The entire upcoming process..., the test, the surgical evaluation, any potential pain killers and anti-biotic... will come to a total of ...five thousand drachmae..., in raw cash only, please."
I simply shook my head as I dove my right hand into my left rear pocket, retrieving the cash money. I felt like shaking my head and weeping, but only followed through on the command, like a robot t programmed in some sort of manner. I retrieved a large handful of gold coins representing literal thousands, carefully counting them out to her through the slot.
"Well, good sir," she smiled as she collected my coin, "proceed back into the room where your wife is, and the transport crew will be there to carry her back shortly."
I could only stand by in idle, shaking my head in astonished disbelief. How could these people be so calloused? If they truly possessed the gift of healing, then why was it that they were so self-serving and outright greedy, refusing to give anybody a reasonable break out of basic compassion or even general concern? To me, it all appeared as if they were more concerned with their profit margin, than the health of the patient. I turned away, heading back toward the room where my dear wife lay. The time passed in a way seeming like an eternity, but the transport crew entered abruptly, opening the door to our room with a slam. As usual, there were three of them and the stretcher.
Two of them moved the stretcher into our room up adjacent to the bed of my wife. The other walked over toward the opposing side, apparently in case a need existed for any assistance from that direction. The two on the side opposite from where I was standing, simply seized the cloth sheet underneath my wife's torso, and pulled hard. The other assisted in steadying her body so that she would make the switch from the bed onto the stretcher. In an instant she was over and the three were stabilizing her onto the stretcher, then all three of them proceeded to snap the side rails into place.
The three moved like well-rehearsed performing artists, smoothly as a spring breeze. Before I could even gasp, they were whisking her away down the hall, toward a destination I could not discern, other than through the information I had been given. I could do nothing at all but simply wait... and pray for the very best. I was powerless at the present moment..., a situation I was finding myself deeply entwined with on an ever-increasing level of incidence... and one that I hated with a demons' passion.
I walked outside of the surgical waiting room and waited inside the main waiting room. On the inside there was a television and a developed collection of magazines on multiple subjects. Other people were inside there whom I could converse with. Most of the people present were suffering through difficult times themselves, and more than willing to speak from the bottom of their heart about any subject matter imaginable, as long as the conversation was not one way out in left field somewhere. What both I and the others desired to hear was talk of life's pleasantries and happy times, not despair or agony of any sort.
An hour seemed like a day, then abruptly, the nurse appeared to call me back into the room for the doctor's review. I walked back down the hallway and into the surgical waiting room, where the patient was held before being transported back into the operating room. There, sat Dr. Ekviostis in the desk chair to greet me as I walked through. His tall, middle aged emotionless form sitting there to relay these conclusive results. I glanced over toward my dear wife, who was now conscious and communicative, but completely immobilized there in the bed.
"Good afternoon," he glanced over at me, then toward Thea and spoke. "We've reviewed the test results and I was asked to conclude... and my conclusion is that you need another operation," he announced with an adamant firmness.
"What sort of operation?" I asked.
"Well, I need to open her up again and search around a bit, to see what there may be to find that needs repairing...," he stated completely void of any compassion whatsoever, but appearing agitated that I would even dare to ask questions, nodding his head as he spoke the words.
"What do you mean, to see what you can find?" I asked again him again.
"Just what I said..., exploratory surgery. Who knows what else in there it is that could be wrong?"
I became angered sharply at his nonchalant behavior in all of this matter. I could not resist asking the obvious question.
"What about the stem that is leaking, and the source of all this catastrophe to begin with... What about that?"
He smiled broadly, then spoke saying... shrugging his shoulders and uplifting both hands as he spoke...
"So what? What about it, mate...?"
I was utterly astonished and repulsed at his remark.
"So what? What about it...? I will tell you what... Are you going to cap it off? Because even I know that if you had done so in the beginning, none of this other calamity would have occurred! That's what! Are you going to do that?"
"Sure, that will be done. Sure, sure thing about that, but we must look around a bit to see what else may need addressing that could be causing additional problems."
My wife suddenly perked up a bit, raising her eye lids and moving slightly as she spoke.
"Who is going to be performing the operation?"
"I will be," he snapped, as if he were attempting to remain confident in himself...
"Oh no... don't let this be...! Oh why, why does it have to be this way?" she said as she wept in between her words.
The surgeon smiled a thin fleshless smile, replying to her question.
"Well, it's like this..., there simply is no one else here exceeding my skill level to perform this task... Matter of fact, to find a person of higher caliber and skill, one may have to go far away as the Italian coast, on the continent. The task to locate him would be overwhelming, to say the least. Then we would have to transport him here... and all on our own dime, I must add here as well.... So..., the choice is like this, being that we are simply forced by circumstance to make use of the resources we possess at our immediate disposal. Personally, unlike times before, I want to move on this matter within the next three hours, at most. The situation is just that urgent, I feel."
"What do you mean by the word, urgent?" I asked.
"Just what I said...This situation is in need of an immediate address. This is not something we need to muck around with here."
"If you had only capped the stem off like you should have, we would be out of here by now!" I snapped in anger.
"Please, my love," Thea gasped, "do not anger, forgiveness is the necessary premium here. Let's forgive, not rage in this matter."
"Fine then, sighed the surgeon, Ekviosis, who continued with a clap of his hands. "I thought that any concerned would come to view this matter in its proper perspective. What I need you to do now, sir, is to take this paperwork down to the window and let them address any concerns in regard to it with you that they might have. Once these concerns have been addressed into their proper perspective, then and only then, we shall proceed on with this matter."
He handed me a closed, sealed envelope packet of official appearing papers to hand back to the lady sitting behind the glass window, who was appearing more and more as a wicked thieving witch behind the glass window, than a lady by now. When I passed the envelope beneath the glass, the lady seized upon it instantly, opening it sharply, then she began slowly examining the paperwork. Time passed feeling like two hours or more, then the lady turned toward the computer, commencing to type. In ten minutes, she appeared to complete her typing work, then coldly turned toward me.
"Sir?" she inquired. "The price demanded for total services will be fifty thousand drachmae. That includes the operation, all the painkillers and anti-biotic, the nurse care and the food, if your wife will be allowed to even eat solid food; if not, then the glucose that she will be fed intravenously... Simply put, the entire range of the service will be purchased via this stated price in conclusion... and we need it in cash, and in full... Now, please sir..."
"What?!," I snapped in shock and rage. "I... will need time to sell off our first duplex flat investment or something...I don't know how to get it...I mean, what must I do?" I gasped in shock to the ridiculous demand.
"Well... think of something... and fast, because we need this financial address within the next two hours...The situation here at hand really is just that critical, sir. Do something very quickly here and now, or you may have a real negative situation on your hands to contend with...," she announced in a cold, seemingly pleading voice; but my gut instinct was that her true effort intended to impose a burden of blame upon my shoulders, should anything go wrong during the operation.
I quickly pulled my new cell phone from my rear pocket, punching the number of my property managers' office. The phone slowly rang, then answered the snappy voice of his young secretary.
"Hello..., how may we assist you here today?" she asked.
"Is Artemis there?" I inquired.
"Yes, but what could he get for you?"
"I want to speak with him. Tell him its Jedi, from the Selenofotos place out on the hill," I snapped, offering my local nick name that I had acquired around here over the course of time that I had been in residence.
"I sure will," she replied, as the sounds of her stepping away from the phone assaulted my ears. In a minute, the phone picked up.
"Hello, what could I do for you...?"
"Hello..., oh Art, gosh how it sure is nice to hear your voice. I need your assistance and quickly as I can get it. I have an emergency on my hands here, pal," I snapped with urgency.
"You know that duplex out on Phoenix Street there that Thea and myself purchased three years ago or so..."
"Yes," he replied, "seems like I do..."
"How much is it worth, right now?" I asked with a gasp in my breath.
"I will have to check the paperwork, but I think it is worth seventy thousand drachma... Let me see here," he said.
His voice returned in five minutes, saying...
"Yes, most certainly here, indeed it is worth seventy thousand, without a doubt here. Why, what's up? he asked.
"Man, my wife is in the infirmary here... and I really do need some real help, and I need it within the next two hours, to be blunt about the matter at hand," I snapped.
"Oh g—d—n, I really do hate that... I really do, and I am well aware of how things are around there, but unfortunately, that facility in all of its harsh imbecility, is the very best that we have in a two-thousand-kilometer radius. How much are you in need of?"
"I need fifty thousand drachmae, man, and quickly as you can send it. Could you find a buyer in that time frame, for fifty thousand?" I requested in desperation.
"I doubt it, not in that time frame. What I can do is forward you the money. I shall notate this specific, and then you allow me to possess the property when this ordeal is over with. The problem is that it will take me some three hours to wire the full amount in to you. I have so much garbage around here I am tangled up into right now... but give me three hours and I promise the money will be right on your way. Is your banking card still activated...?"
"Yes," I replied with a gasp.
"Do they have an ATM close by, or a Western Union?"
"They have an international ATM right here by the window, about twenty feet or so away," I replied with a gasp.
"Great! I will put in an order for the money with a phone call, but you are aware that the health facility charges a hearty interest fee by the hour, aren't you?"