Learning Kim

Three

Chapter 3

The main family is still asleep in the house, bodyguards watching out for their safety and yet, one person manages to slip in, quietly and undetected. They know the house, the entries and exits, have studied the camera angles and security protocols. The hospital wing is under camera surveillance, but disguised as a doctor no one asks any questions. There are too many new doctors in each month, each week. Some because they want to learn, others because they were bought for their expertise. One more unknown face doesn't raise any alarm.

The nurses wai friendly as the fake doctor slips into the youngest mafia son's room without a problem, no guards anywhere in sight. There they find him not alone in bed. The youngest Kittisawad is also there, slumbering away beside him. The fake doctor grabs the chart by the end of the bed, reads about the injuries, medication and examinations with interest. The doctors are keeping Kim sedated for now to give his body a chance to heal. Kim is alive when he shouldn't be, not after the mission, the shots, the implications. Kim knew this.

The intruder watches the two young men sleep for a while, not happy about what they see. And what they don't see. They have to act.

*

Porchay doesn't get woken up by his cellphone alarm the next morning, but by an alarm going off in Kim's hospital room. He is nearly pushed out of bed by the nurses and doctors as they rush inside, check the monitors, check on Kim. Porchay is instantly wide awake, fear apparently more potent than coffee.

"Swelling of the extremities, spasms," one of the nurses reports.

"The foley bag is visibly bloody."

"We need a quick blood test, but get the dialysis in here," the doctor orders and two of the nurses run off, while another takes a blood sample from the needle that's constantly stuck in Kim's hand.

"What's happening?" Porchay asks panicked as they run in and out of the room, talking in medical terms and orders and share worried looks.

"You are?" The doctor asks.

"Porchay Kittisawad," he replies with urgency.

"Khun Kinn has cleared you for information." The doctor knows and Porchay thinks he has to remember to thank Kinn later. "It looks like Khun Kim's other kidney is failing as well. The tests didn't look too well in the first place, but he's clearly exhibiting symptoms of kidney failure."

"What are you going to do?"

"We will check how bad it is and then hook him up to the dialysis. If we're lucky his one remaining kidney will then resume its work. If not, I'm afraid ultimately it looks like he needs a transplant."

"You can have mine! I only need one kidney, right?" Porchay offers immediately. What does he need two kidneys for, if Kim needs only one to get better?

"That's very generous of you, but first we would have to check, if you are even a match. But even if you are, Khun Kim is in such critical condition still, that we can't operate on him right now. It would be too risky."

"But he's getting better, right? Beside the kidney?"

"I'm going to be honest with you and that's also what I am going to tell Khun Kinn later: Khun Kim's remaining kidney is apparently failing, his left lungs collapsed and he can't breathe on his own and his liver results are a mess, which means we can't give him all the medication he needs. We're doing everything we can, I promise you, but he's in very critical condition."

Porchay lets all of this sink in as he looks at Kim, nurses still working away on him, changing something on the machines, prodding him with needles and injecting him with all kinds of medicine.