Elixir of Life

Chapter 10: How Can You Mend A Broken Heart?

Naseem Hamed

May 7th, 2017

King Faisal Medical Centre

There was a dark-blue glow around the rest of the OR. Naseem stood on the cusp of the operating field. The lone light source was the circular OR lights above Faryal on the OR table. It shined a bright, pyramid ray from the head of the table to the foot. All else was pitch black. Naseem snapped on nitrile gloves and tied his surgical mask behind his head. Then adjusted his glasses along the bent, nose edge of his mask.

He had checked one last time with the nurses' station. Dr. Atif was still in emergency surgery and the donor heart had one hour less from its viability of four to six hours. Faryal's transplant would likely take six hours. There was no time left. Their window was closing.

Faryal Belmadi. Forty-two-year-old female. 122 pounds. O-Negative blood. Her surgical team included Amalia, the surgical technologist, surgeon's assistant, perfusionist, and anesthesiologist. Faryal was wrapped in warm blankets amidst the cold OR. She turned to the anesthesiologist in charge of putting her under.

"Sara told me about OR 4 and how the anesthesiologist fell asleep."

He shook his head. "Did not end well. But have no worries, my dear, I am well rested. It took me putting Dramamine into my children's juice boxes."

The team laughed. Naseem noticed Faryal and Amalia lock eyes for a brief moment. Amalia turned around to place the blood packets she was carrying into a small fridge along the wall. The team's PPE's were a soft blue with white surgical masks. The anesthesiologist leant over to help attach an oxygen mask over Faryal.

Faryal's heart failure meant that its efficiency in pumping her body the blood it needed would degrade over time. To the point that her body would swell, and her organs would lose efficiency as a result. Tissues, major organs would slowly shut down one by one. She would become bed-ridden, stuck in intensive care, and would have a complicated, riskier surgery. Through blood clots, her veins and arteries would lose efficiency, making a successful transplant that much less likely. Until her heart lost any use and would just stop working altogether. The brain would lose the blood it needed to survive and her consciousness would go right after.

He had to succeed in this very moment.

Naseem entered the operating field and stood beside Faryal's left side, the closest over her heart. The two took a moment to stare at each other.

She spoke through the mask, her voice softly muffled, "I'll see you when I wake up, okay? I'll be right back."

Naseem smiled behind his mask and nodded. "I love you."

She smiled under her transparent one. "I love you, too."

He dug his hand underneath her blanket and held her hand. The anesthesiologist held Faryal's IV line and was ready with the anesthesia.

The anesthesiologist looked to Naseem, he nodded, then turned his head to Faryal, "Faryal, can you count backwards from three?"

"Three, two, one..."

The anesthesiologist had put her under as she softly shut her eyes. The assistant placed EKG pads on Faryal and the anesthesiologist double-checked Faryal was attached to her catheter. Amalia retrieved a blood sample from Faryal's peripheral catheter. And the surgical team shuffled into position in the operating field.

Amalia removed the blankets covering Faryal and then took off her gown. She was naked under the graceful lighting and her hair was wrapped underneath a hair cover. Naseem had seen hundreds of patients, each with their own unique imperfections. Faryal's left breast was slightly larger than her right. She had a mole on her right bicep. And his heart dropped at the very sight of her. And it dropped the same as when he had first met her.