Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
I stared at him, our eyes level because we were the same height.
Dad nodded toward the hallway. “Let’s take a walk.”
I grabbed my jacket and didn’t say goodbye to my wife before I joined my father in the hallway, down the elevator, and outside in the cold, crisp air of fall. The pavement was wet from the rain that had come earlier that afternoon. Windshields still had drops of water on them. The cold air was nice on my lungs, cleansing them of the stress, anxiety, everything else.
Dad placed his hand on my shoulder as he walked with me. “Just remember, science only goes so far. There’s something beyond medicine that no amount of experience can help you understand. I’m not a spiritual man, but when it’s someone’s time, it’s someone’s time—and you aren’t the one who decides when that is.”
I looked at him as I walked beside him. “I’ve only lost a few patients, and I believe there was nothing I could have done with any of them. They couldn’t survive the operation, but without it, they would have died anyway.”
“Because there wasn’t anything you could do. The same applies to Allen.”
“It’s different this time.”
“It’s not too late to reschedule with a different physician—”
“I’m the best. I’m his best chance.”
He gave my shoulder a squeeze before he let me go. “Then do your best. And accept the outcome without guilt or blame.”
***
I slept like a rock.
I did my same morning routine—worked out and had a small breakfast—and then put on my scrubs and went to the hospital alone because I wanted my day to feel like every other day, to pretend it was normal.
I didn’t see Catherine or talk to her family prior. I spent my time in my office, thinking and planning. When it was time, my assistant retrieved me, and I scrubbed in, leaving my wedding ring behind on my desk.
Allen was on the table, breathing tubes hooked in, his catheter filling with drips of urine, the monitor beeping gently because his heart rate was normal. The light overhead was bright, shining right into his face. His eyes immediately shifted to me when I walked into the room, the nurses helping me with my gown and gloves to keep me sterile. He couldn’t see my mouth because it was hidden behind a mask.
I approached the table and looked down at him. “You’re going to be alright, Allen. I’m going to take good care of you.”
He gave a nod. “I know, son.”
***
The monitor beeped gently in the background as I worked. I gave instructions to the nurses, asking for tools, checking his vitals, my hands still as they worked in his chest cavity to make the microincisions. The wrong cut could be catastrophic, but I had the best hands in the business.
Everything was fine.
Until it wasn’t.
Allen went into cardiac arrest.
I shouted orders to the nurses, pushed the drugs to stabilize his heart, checked for signs of unnecessary bleeding I may have caused.
There was nothing.
I never lost my calm, regardless of the events around me. I tuned out everything and worked with precision and efficiency. But he was slipping further and further away, his heart rate skyrocketing.
Then it flatlined.
“Fuck.” I took over from the nurses and pressed the paddles into his chest. “Allen, come on. Don’t you fucking do this to me.” I sent the pulse into his chest, making his body flinch, but his heartbeat didn’t return, he didn’t draw breath, and he already turned blue like an old corpse. “Goddammit, come on!” I kept trying and trying.
The nurses knew it was over. They stepped back and let me work even though it was hopeless.
Because he was gone.
And I knew it too. But I kept trying anyway…just to put off the despair a little longer.
***
Catherine and her family were in the lobby, waiting for an update.
But I couldn’t go out there. I couldn’t look at their faces and watch their world disintegrate. I couldn’t look at my wife and tell her that her father was dead—and I didn’t even know why. I just couldn’t do it.
So, I texted my dad. Walk outside and call me in private. He was in the waiting room with Catherine and her family, and I needed to talk to him, but not where they could see his reaction.
A minute later, he called. “Son, how’d it go?”
I bowed my head and rested my face in my hand, leaning forward in the chair in my office, feeling the tears explode like a dam that had cracked in several places at once. I didn’t say a word as I let the tears become audible, let the sniffles echo in my office.
My dad was silent.
Allen wasn’t just another patient I’d lost. He was a man I loved like a father. He was the man my wife loved with her whole heart. I lost him the way she just lost him. It was devastating to me as a man and a doctor, making the blow a million times harder.