The boy – my son being hospitalized was what embraced my mind. Entering the apartment, I was enveloped with Aaliyah's sweet rose perfume. She was watching a certain series, but none of that mattered to me. I removed my shoes, placed them on the rack, and headed to my bedroom as I loosened the tie that always felt like it was choking me. After, I just let myself lay on the cozy bed, not caring if my suit would be wrinkled. Only then did I realize how tired I was: the stiffness in my neck, the heaviness on my shoulder, and the constant headache.
My eyes closed a little, but I still wondered how I would get through the surgery. The thoughts of it not being successful scared me, and it was weird for me to be scared. Not that I haven't handled other surgeries; I sure have. Doing cardio surgery is obviously a fifty-fifty, I told myself over and over, as if I needed constant self-assurance that it was going to be alright.
After some hours, my slumber was over, but the same heaviness and tiredness were still there. I felt more like a zombie. The television was still speaking, meaning Aaliyah was still watching. I checked my wristwatch and realized it was already seven at night. Panic set in, and it dawned on me that I needed to hurry and prepare. I had slept more than I initially anticipated, and that was bad.
Hurriedly, I took off the rest of the clothes I wore – the shirt and trousers – ASAP. I wrapped my towel around my waist and headed to the bathroom. I needed a quick hot shower, but as I turned the knob, I remembered the text from the caretaker about my overdue water bill payment. "Fuck," I uttered under my breath, as option B set in: using the stored water in my Skyplast.
Cold, and very not exciting, I let the water embrace my body; and after finishing, shaking and looking like a feeble twig, I entered my bedroom and hurriedly wore a blue shirt and black khaki trousers, followed by a white hood which I would take off right when I entered the surgery room. And with all that, I left the room, took my bag, and started rushing to the apartment door when I remembered Aaliyah and rushed back to where she was in the sitting room. She was already asleep, despite the movie still running. I believe it was boring, I told myself as I subconsciously kissed her on the cheek; and for a moment, I felt the need to just hug her.
I did not know I missed her; I think I did. However, my constant thoughts of Aaliyah meant my time to prepare for surgery was draining. So, I took out my other credit card, wrote the passkey on a piece of paper, and wrote, "Please pay the water bills." Leaving, I did.
To my car, I rushed, almost scaring the aging lady who was coming up the stairs; I was running like small children did every time in these apartments, playing hide and seek or something. Anyway, I was in no mood to wait for the elevator of these apartments; it sometimes stopped working at night. Today, I needed not to deal with that.
Without any time wastage, I remote controlled my car to open its door before I arrived near it, and on entry onto the passenger seat, and after buckling my seat belt, I told it, "Today is a day by itself, man." I reversed it fast, 20, 40, 60, 80, 100 km/hr, it accelerated, as I balanced my leg between the brakes and the speed pedal. I needed to arrive ASAP. There is no thick road jam at night; I thank God for that.
After the first left turn, I arrived at the gates of St. Francis Memorial, as my phone started vibrating. I knew it was Doctor Heung; he hated surgeons arriving late. I was not that late, but it was already two minutes to eight. I wonder how fast I prepared myself.
"Yes, doc," I stated as I parked the car.
"Doc Levin, I need you in my office now," he stated. I assume he thought I had already arrived, so without wasting any other time, I took off my white hood and clumsily threw it in the back. Then, opening the door, I opened the bag, took my white coat and stethoscope, and walked out as I wore the coat and remote locked the car doors. "God, I was tense."
"Doctor Levin, the boy's heartbeat..." "Doc Levin, what should we give him..." "Doc Levin, should we prepare the surgical room or the war..." "Doc Levin..."
All the practitioners ran towards me right when I arrived. This was always how it should be; they should follow instructions from whoever is leading the surgery. Any mistake meant you, the head of surgery, are responsible.
"In a bit, I need to speak to Doctor Heung," I stated, and they excused themselves.
Through the hallway, I strode as fast as I could until I reached Doctor Heung's office. I ignored the presence of Kate and Funky, who were standing outside the doctor's room. I needed not to look at them; they would make me more nervous and fear that the end product would not be as expected. So, I opened the door and let myself in.
"Doctor," I stated.
"Doctor Levin, how's the medical condition of the boy? How is his temperature, his blood pressure level, his pulse rate? Is it still in tension? Can he endure a night sur...?" God, I muttered within my breath; Doctor Heung was asking me questions I myself did not know.
"I just arrived, doctor," I stated.
"You just arrived? You just arrived and we are having a whole surgery on account of you? You just arrived meaning you know nothing of the patient's day behavior, how the medicines given have interacted with him, how we will proceed to intercede the surgery? Doctor Levin, are you serious? Do you know how far the hole is?"
"I...uh...I..." I murmured, swallowed a hefty amount of saliva, and started again, "I read the medical diagnosis, I mean previous..."
"Cut the..." He wanted to almost throw shade at me, but just a little bit calmed himself. "Cut the... (slowly) Doctor Levin, this is a boy. His future lies on you today. Checking the previous medication was what I did not want, as I wanted us to make our judgment and observe the reactions of the ventricles after every pump. Does it widen, or is it still constant? Do I have to teach you young doctors everything? I will take over; you shall be my second. This should not be repeated."
"Yes, sir... Yes, doc, I will check the records from the practitioners."
"Next time, know better. Tell the parents about the implications, make them sign these papers (he pointed at the papers that were lying on his desk. They were just surgical terms and conditions; they meant that the hospital was not responsible for anything if the procedure is not successful), and after, come and let's prepare the boy. We shall start exactly at 9:30 PM. Sound the alarm," he stated and left the hospital with the file containing Shane's name. I am sure Kate and Funky heard everything; as I felt my jaw hurting from all the clenching I had done. I hated being lectured, but it was part of the working life.
Thus, shifting my thoughts from the former occurrence with Doctor Heung, I took the sheets of paper he had instructed, opened the door, and in just a slightly low tone, stated, "Hey, Kate and Franklin, can I have a moment."
They both followed me inside the small room as I sat in Doctor Heung's office, still checking my wristwatch as I planned on how to quickly make the two sign the documents.
"Hello, again," I stated, being as casual as possible.
"Hayzen..." Funky stated, clenching his jaw.
"The boy will have his surgery in an hour due time," I started, cleared my throat, and continued, "We just need permission from the family."
"What is the condition?" Funky added, glaring at me, bloodshot.
"Uuuh..." I don't know why I was almost stuttering. It was either because I felt Funky knew a hefty deal about medical conditions, or the previous talk with Doctor Heung had left me with a terrifying effect. Thus, to avoid the two realizing my condition, I acted out a fake cough and continued, "His left ventricle is a little affected, so we shall patch up the hole. It will be a seamlessly not complicated problem. He shall survive."
"Doctor Levin!" Without a knock, and startling all of us, one of the night shift nurse practitioners came in.
Something was wrong.
"Excuse me," I stated as I rose from the seat. "I will be back," I said to Funky and Kate as I saw Kate rise from her seat.
I hoped it was not something hefty wrong, my mind monologued as I followed the practitioner.