The night was safe. At exactly four in the morning, I started checking the documents of the patient who was expected to undergo surgery exactly six in the morning.
Doctor Heung was almost checking in; they always arrived one or two hours before the surgery began for preparation and to make sure everything was in order. I knew they would urge me to stay through the surgery instead of leaving. Doctor Heung always stated it in an almost gas lighting manner: "Who will we leave with these sick patients when the younger doctors leave right when a surgery is beginning?" So every time he stated the words, it meant 'dude, you're going nowhere.'
I had countless times checked on the boy. I even paid one of the practitioners to keep an eye on him when I took a little nap, a one-hour rest, because I knew this surgery could take almost three to four, to even six hours. Doctor Heung was determined to also perform the surgery on the boy, so this meant almost two days of sleep deprivation, and before this shift, I did not sleep well since I was, of course, here after being told the news. The boy was okay, his heart rate still an issue, but we had somehow taken care of his pressure. Children's blood pressure was never an issue; it was easy to curb since their energies were active, and especially when a patient's immune system was really good.
Well, we started preparing the patient, making final tests to be sure his health condition was perfect for the surgery. We confirmed he did not worry about anything and had the family sign the required documents to allow the team to conduct the surgery. And exactly at six AM, the surgery began.
Surgeries are always demanding and a new challenge. We just make them look easier, but knowing perfection is needed as a slight error would lead to conditions much worse than death. That's why you find most standing surgeons acutely rude and raising their voices sometimes. Like Doctor Heung, he barely knows it, but he is now asking for scissors instead of a surgical razor, and the team will have to deal with it. He is indeed under pressure, understandable.
Anyway, after six hours, the surgery was complete, and we went exactly to the waiting room to eat because, especially me, I had not taken anything since the previous night. So we were eating, and then the practitioner came in;
"I'm sorry for distracting, Doc Levin is being called outside." And I was a little bit grumpy because I was starting my meal, but I just went outside as the other doctors and practitioners laughed at me. It was always a fast eating; time was always a matter in the hospital, and this meant I was not guaranteed to have my lunch meal. I needed to go home; I had worked overtime, my mind was already foggy and tired; all I was hearing was the beeping sound of the monitor. So I just went outside to look for whoever was looking for me. It was Kate.
"Hey," she stated, eyeing me from up to down. I had not yet taken off my surgical wear; the green-like coat and the head garment. It was not good to be seen like this, so I first excused myself as I entered the surgical room, removed it, and then came back wearing the normal clothing of the white shirt and black, well-straightened trousers.
"Hi Kate," I stated, as I steadily looked at her, realizing Funky was not available. "Can we go to my office?"
"Okay," she stated. With her, she had a black handbag. She wore a black hood and blue jeans, with some pink sneakers. On arrival at my office, we entered and closed the door behind me, as she sat at the same spot she did last night and I on the other.
"How was the night?" I asked her, ignoring the tears that were trying to show up in my eyes. Of course, she held a soft spot; it was okay.
"It was dreadful," she stated.
"Where is Funky?" I asked, not really wanting to know where he was, but just pushing the conversation.
"He went to work; he will be here later." I just nodded to that. I wondered where he worked, but I knew the less I asked her about him, the better. I might end up questioning why I even asked her if I realized he is in a better position than me. Especially the fact that she literally is in a better position, and our boy will be fine; I believe he shall be fine.
It was becoming really hard for me to formulate a conversation with Kate. My mind was foggy; I was tired, really was, but I was okay.
"He is doin..." As I wanted to speak, my phone started ringing out from my drawer. I had left it in there after I went for surgery in the morning. So, I opened the drawer which was on my right side of this small desk, and checked the caller ID; it was Aaliyah, and so I answered:
"Hey," I stated.
"Hayzen..." she stated and did not say anything else.
"Is there a problem?"
"No, I was just wondering if you found a nurse to keep for the day. You haven't come home." I think Kate heard that from the little smile she made. I don't know why she found it funny, so I just stated,
"Can I call you later, please?" and hung up. I knew she would hate me for hanging up on her. She always preferred herself hanging up, I sometimes felt she was a photocopy of me when I was dating Kate. I never enjoyed it when Kate really did this to me, hanging up. But I would surely explain everything. I hung up because Kate was here, and I was never the type of person who would leave someone in a room just to answer a phone call. It felt really rude.
"Your wife?" Kate asked, and I just shook my head as I placed my phone in the drawer.
"Not wife, just a..."
"Friend?" she asked, and I just did not say anything. Aaliyah was just someone staying in my house, someone who stayed in my house, someone who I found cute. I don't know, I just went with her flow; whatever she wanted to do, I just pushed in with it.
"He will be fine," I stated. "But Kate, I... eh..." I wanted to ask her why I was not on the medical naming list of the boy, but I just assumed it all as I realized how deeply she was now looking at me. Those same eyes, and I wondered if I was still drawn to them the same way. Then Doctor Heung's entry into my office made me literally scrap off everything I was thinking about Kate, literally everything.
"Doctor Levin," Doctor Heung stated, and I stood to greet him, as I introduced Kate in the process. "You can take your rest, then come in at night. We shall do..." I knew what he meant and I nodded. He meant little Shane was to have his surgery. I don't know how I would do it, as Doctor Heung wanted me to head the surgery. I needed to tell him I was not sure if I could do it, but it was not a surgeon's character to step back, so I had to agree, and I knew a lot awaited me. First, a good sleep would do, then thorough research on the medical problem of the boy, any problem. I don't think I would ever forgive myself, and then after, I would request Kate to give me chances to at least bond with the boy; I needed to be present at least.
"Okay," I stated, and Doctor Heung left, leaving Kate and me still inside.
"I never expected you'd end up here," Kate stated.
"It's a dream too," I stated.
"Since you have been offered free time, I think we should go have lunch," Kate stated, and it all felt like music in my ears, both sad and weird. Not once had she ever offered to take me for lunch, but I just nodded. I also wanted to know a lot about the boy.
So we left sideways until the hotel near the hospital, as I ordered some Spanish recipe courtesy of Kate, who greatly emphasized trying it; it was a little bit spicy but it was okay.
"When did the condition start?" I asked.
"Can we not talk about that?" Kate stated. It was like she was using this opportunity to just forget everything that was happening in her life.
"Okay, at least give me a hint. I can't do the surgery without any knowledge," I stated.
"Are you jealous of Funky?" she randomly stated, and I stared at her like any man would do when an ex stated such kind of nonsense.
"Kate, I'm being serious here. We are talking about Shane, and all you are telling me is nonsense," I stated. The last person I would accept back is Kate; I would never. I went through hell to build this, the being I have become.
"It was right at birth. He had shortness of breath, but the doctors realized the condition later and prescribed some medicine." And I just nodded; it was exactly what his medical statements were.
"Why did you change doctors?" I asked her. "It is not recommended for someone with such a condition to change doctors."
"It was Funky's idea." And I found myself, in my mind, imitating the word Funky. He seemed to have taken responsibility over me. Of course, I was jealous of the nigga, deadass.
"Oooh," I stated. "He is not a medical practitioner anyway," I added beneath my breath, and she seemed to catch it as she laughed right after I finished. I don't know why I was becoming melodramatic.
"He adores Shane," she added, putting more salt on my wound and reminding me how less of a father I was. I don't know why she was saying this. So, I just kept quiet as I finished my plate of food.
"I see you are a family now," I stated.
"Yeah, he treats me well," she added, and my mind just tried hard to mask the emotion I was feeling. I think she was trying to make me jealous.
"At least you are happy," I stated, and then inwardly stated, 'at least you found love, and I was over here wallowing in my pain of losing you, wasted all those years, damn.'
"He just texted, he is already outside. I think I should leave," she stated, standing up and giving me a little smile. As I stood up, I steadily followed her. I was confused about my feelings, whether to accept that I was feeling sad or just mask them up.
"Hello, Hayzen," Funky stated as he opened the door for Kate to enter. I just nodded my head for him to see that I acknowledged him. "How is Shane?" he added.
"He is fine," I stated.
"He better be," he added, laughing a little. That was how he used to joke around in school. I hated his jokes.
"He is my son, nigga!" I stated, not knowing where this came from. There was something about Funky and me that I never understood; it was like our blood never liked each other.
The next thing I knew was him trying to hit me with his fist, raising my collars high, but the hotel's guard stopped him and requested them to leave.
"Are you okay, doctor?" the guard asked. Of course, the guard knew me. This was the place I always ate on shifts and even slept during my unholy days.
"Yeah, man, thanks."
"He got a nice Rambo, though," he complimented, and I just shrugged.
"Just a show-off," I stated as I headed into my car and left, waving the guard goodbye.