Adam's Eve

40

Adam felt like his soul was being ripped right out of him, watching the paramedics try desperately to revive his father.

Wishing that the ambulance would move faster even though he knew they were already moving at a crazy pace.

Every time the defibrillator was placed on his father's bare chest, jolting him and yet failing to generate any response from the heart monitor, it felt like the piercing of a sharp-edged sword right through his heart.

He flattened his palms on his forehead and run them up along his messy hair, tugging furiously as anguish burned through his brain. But he could care less if his hair was ripped out of his skull.

Not when his dad was on the brink of death and he could only watch helplessly.

Suddenly, the paramedics stopped fussing over his father, disposing off their device, faces grim. Adam's heart skipped a beat. Had they given up already?

One of them came to stand right in front of him. He saw her lips moving, but it wasn't until she patted him on the shoulder that he heard her words.

“Sir, we've been able to stabilize his heart.”

It was then that the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor filled his ears. Adam could've broken down right there.

After the scary second he hadn't felt his father's pulse, he'd performed CPR with hope so tenuous that he'd nearly given up when his dad had suddenly coughed. He'd let out a groan, and then slipped right back into unconsciousness. With quivering hands, he'd managed to dial the emergency number.

God, he thought he had experienced what it felt like to be scared before. This experience was proving him so wrong.

Legs quavering, he got up and made for his father's side. Kneeling down beside the stretcher, he caressed his father's face, tears burning his eyes.

“Oh dad.” He turned to look at the paramedics as panic began ensuing again. “Why the heck isn't he awake yet?!”

“Calm down, Sir.” It was another paramedic that spoke. “We'll get to the hospital soon and run some tests. We can determine whether he took anything else with the alcohol, but right now, his heartbeat is stable. That's a good sign.”

Adam forced himself to calm down, to not let pessimistic thoughts cloud his mind. He continued stroking his father's face as an IV drip was put on him.

Finally, the ambulance arrived at the hospital. His father was wheeled into the ICU and Adam was prevented entry but told to fill out forms at the reception.

The receptionist looked at him with a warm smile. “Patient's name?”

“Redulfo Garcia.” He answered. She asked a series of question, and Adam answered patiently simply because he knew this was a necessity.

Something like recognition lighted up the woman's eyes. “Oh, doctor Andrews's patient.”

“What?”

“Your father. He's the patient of doctor Andrews.” The receptionist said.

A jolt went through Adam. “Patient Who's doctor Andrews.”

Why would his father have a personal doctor here?

“She's one of our best hepatologists. I'll let her know now.” Then she spoke into a small microphone sitting on the table. “Doctor Andrews, you're needed at the ICU. One of your patients was just admitted there.” She flashed a smile at Adam then. “You can wait over there.”

Adam nodded mechanically, head wheeling. He wasn't a science geek, but he knew a hepatologist was a doctor who dealt in the treatment of diseases of the liver, gall bladder and pancreas. Why the heck would his father have a hepatologist as his doctor?