Love's So Contagious

Certain Smell

Gulf allowed a nurse to help him put on a sterile gown and tried his best to remain steady. Thankfully, he wasn't the one who had to perform the amputation. The thought of it was overwhelming, and he didn't believe he could handle it. While he had done surgeries in the past, this was a whole different level.

Performing an amputation on an adult, who would understand the necessity once they recovered, was one thing. But performing it on a child, especially a young toddler, was an entirely different story.

Gulf had always tried to maintain a certain level of emotional detachment in his job. As a doctor, it was necessary to keep a certain distance in order to effectively carry out his duties. It hadn't been easy, and he had gone through a lot to learn how to maintain a stoic demeanor. When he had to declare a patient's time of death and then immediately switch gears to deal with a nervous yet energetic child, he was grateful for the training.

However, in this moment, all of those lessons seemed to have vanished. Only his eyes were visible behind the gown and mask, but tears welled up as he approached the operating table. The foul odor of the gangrenous arm threatened to overwhelm him, even through his surgical mask, and he once again questioned whether he could make it through this surgery.

He should have told the family no. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. The family was already going through so much. Two out of their three children had been diagnosed with meningitis. The older one had even lost her hearing. And now, the youngest lay on the operating table, her arm decaying before his eyes.

The surgeon began the procedure, and Gulf focused on his task of clamping off blood vessels. He couldn't tear his gaze away.

The child would adapt, children were resilient like that. But the cost of replacing prosthetics as she grew would be a burden for a family struggling to make ends meet in public housing. Childhood was tough as it is, without the added challenge of standing out. But Gulf had no choice but to assist in removing the dead limb.

A difficult childhood was better than no childhood at all. And he knew that her family, full of love and support, would help her through it all.

The surgeon, Bonz Nadol, finally completed the procedure. They would need to dispose of the amputated limb as medical waste. Gulf and Bonz closed off the stump and bandaged it. Normally, they might have left it open for a little while due to the toddler's age, but they didn't want to risk any complications. The family had already endured enough. After doing what they could, they went to clean up while the nurse took the little girl to the recovery room.

As soon as he could, Gulf headed straight for the bathroom. He emptied his stomach and hunched over the toilet, heaving for a solid ten minutes. Even then, the foul odor lingered in his nose and mind. It seemed impossible to get rid of.

Bonz appeared behind Gulf's stall. He hadn't managed to lock it behind him. "Are you alright, Gulf?" He leaned against the flimsy metal divider. "If you got sick in my operating room, especially with such a young patient, I'd personally take you outside and give you a good kick in the ass."

Gulf raised his hand, signaling for attention. "No, it's not just any smell. Lately, it's been bothering me."

Bonz fell silent, placing a comforting hand on Gulf's back. "Is it only that particular smell or all smells?"

Gulf lowered his head. "It's a lot of smells. They seem more overpowering than usual, especially the unpleasant ones. Although, I don't think anyone can escape the impact of that gangrene smell."

"True." Bonz gently massaged Gulf's back in circular motions. "Are you feeling better now?"

Gulf blushed. "More or less, yeah."