The Sidewalk Incident

12. The Cleveland Proposal

"Steady, Charlotte." James coaxes me, after he clamps the diminutive chest cavity open.

"She's tinier than I expected." My hands shake uncharacteristically. And even though I'm operating through what is essentially a robotic arm, I'm second guessing myself.

"She is. But you've got this."

I look up, and James nods, showing both confidence and determination through his magnifying eye glasses.

"We've practised this countless times this week." He continues the pep talk.

" I know but—"

James reaches across the tiny, tiny almost-human baby (she's still in the alien phase of development, her heart beating like crazy), and he places his hand on mine. He doesn't say anything, just nods, and I don't bother looking around.

I take a deep breath in, gulp, and get to it. The longer this baby's chest stays open unnecessarily, the greater the chance of infection.

Using mechanical technology, I am able to locate, clamp and surgically remove the tumour along the pericadium, as well as it's roots. My lip sweat and brow sweat have become a family but I don't break stance or move an inch, save for my hands.

And it's done!

James gives me a look, it's magnified by the surgical glasses, making it almost googly-eyed which makes it all the more disturbing that there's a pleasant jolt to my stomach when that look meets my gaze.

There is a collective sigh of relief. Vitals are stable and we are able to close the chest cavity, remove the IV line and reposition her in the uterus.

The tricky part is sealing the uterus again, rupturing the amniotic sac would mean initiating the labour process, and we need this baby to heal inside her mother, not outside, as her lungs are too underdeveloped.

James is up, he successfully avoided rupturing the amniotic sac the first time around and it irks me that he does this effortlessly. Just a flick, swish and brush of suturing scissors, and the c-section incision is sealed.

There's some polite applause coming from the gallery, but James and I are not about to start celebrating just yet. We anxiously stare at the ECG machine, while glancing over at the fetal Doppler making its signature galloping sounds.

"It's getting stronger." I let out the first sigh of relief and the slightest of smiles begins cracking at my lips.

The surgical team, as well as one of the top foetal surgeons in the country whom we invited to observe the operation, finally start congratulating each other, handing out high fives and hugs.

I observe silently until James hugs me from behind. He really has got this Fake Boyfriend thing on lockdown but I welcome the hug.

"We did it!" He chuckles.

"Not gonna lie, I was shitting bricks at one point."

"I can always rely on you for subtlety."

"Drinks on Dr. Li and Owen tonight!!" LJ tries his luck, and I'm not entirely opposed. James looks at me, and shrugs with uncertainty, "What do you say?"

"I think we all deserve a drink!"

There are whoops all around and The Gallery nods down on us with approval.

____________________

I hear a soft knock on my door after I freshened up and changed into a pair of denims and a simple button up blouse.

"Come in," I say, nonchalantly, expecting James or one of my colleagues but instead Dr. Nawadi, the foetal specialist from Cleveland, walks in slowly.

"Dr. Nawadi," I clear my throat and gesture at the occasional chair across my desk. Unlike my home, my office actually looks like I put an effort into it, with subtle African touches here and there. If you search carefully, there is something depicting each of the African Big Five, from the portrait of a lioness behind my desk, to the rhino coasters on the coffee table. "Please have a seat."