𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑆𝑢𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑜𝑛-𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒜𝓇𝓉𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒟ℴ𝒹𝑔ℯ𝓇//ʲᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵃʷᵏⁱⁿˢ

𝙴𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎

𝑊𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑘，
𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑝𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑎𝑙, 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑢𝑠ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ．
－𝑀𝐽𝑇

JACK

𝑈𝑇𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑂𝑆 𝐴𝑅𝐸 𝑇𝑊𝑂 𝑊𝑂𝑅𝐷𝑆 𝑇𝑂 𝐷𝐸𝑆𝐶𝑅𝐼𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝑂𝐷𝐴𝑌．

𝑀𝑅 𝐻𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐼𝑁 𝑂𝑁𝐿𝑌 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝑀𝑂𝑅𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺 complained about agony in the back of his leg, if I wasn't on the run at the time, he'd have walked out from the hospital alive.

Unfortunately, of course this didn't happen and Mr Hooten's life went onto my table tally.

Seconds after Mr Hootens tries to tell me the matter of agony he'd been in, I spot a hand full of Darius' goons mere feet from where I stood by Mr Hootens bread stall. They just seemed to be everywhere lately.

"I've been up all night, Jack," Mr Hootens bends to pick up his pant leg but all I could see was Darius' group ahead. Of all things, this was the worst one to possibly come today. "When I try to bend it, it's agony. You see, I think-"

Already turning back, I was eager to get the hell out of there. "Why don't you come see me again the hospital?"

And that's how I got myself into this situation.

Mr Hootens came into the hospital with a popliteal aneurysm behind his knee, now I finally understand why he woke up in such agony the past few days, any form of aneurysm causes excessive pain and strain on the body and need to be treated immediately after the discovery to avoid further damage. Now Samuel Hootens lay within the theatre, wails of agony and fear is the only thing keeping him awake. "You're going to be alright," I lay a hand to his shoulder, confident this will go accordingly. All I needed to do was a few tie offs and incisions and he'd be as good as new. The goal was to avoid the artery, and release the pressure building behind his leg. A routine procedure, or so I thought.

I turned to the gallery, filled with inquisitive men who were merely there for the gore and bets. "Gentlemen, today, we perform a Hunter's procedure for a popliteal aneurism." 

The crowd mutters a few words, placing down their final bets and getting excited. I clap my hands together. "We open up the thigh, ligate the artery, now if it bursts, he dies."

The crowd starts to get rowdy before I take my place beside Mr Hootens. "But he's not going to die today."

I gesture to Betty. "Scalpel," Sneed holds down the patient as Betty passes me the scalpel. "Thankyou. Hold still, mate. You'll be just fine."

Beginning the incision, it was moments into the procedure before the two wide doors were kicked open, beholding the all and drunken Professor Alistair. Of course, this is where everything will be going wrong. "What's this?" He begins to demand orders, stumbling over himself. "I'm taking over."

Already being able to tell how drunk he is by the slurring, Sneed and I both share a look. This wasn't going to end well. The death rate of our professor is nearly double of his success rate, and him being absolutely blootered would triple the chance of Mr Hootens death. If I could get rid of somebody from this hospital, it would be him because although the cleanliness may need attending to, Mary has majority of it covered with the nurses, however, there's nothing we can cover about Alistair. "This needs a steady hand!" The crowd boos and disagrees with this.

"No we have it professor," I tried to argue that I was already far too within the procedure already, yet if I argued much more, I'd be arguing for my job back.

"I very much doubt that," Alistair orders for the scalpel and I'm hesitant to give in, but knowing my job was on the line, the only way my family could afford the home, food, and clothes on our backs, I knew I was risking more than a career.

I give him the scalpel and he goes in. Immediately, he goes to cut into the wrong side of the aneurism, this side would cause excessive bleeding and swelling. "Not that one sir."

I gesture for the accurate location and once again, he begins the incision. This time, it was far too low, the scalpel blade sliced into the artery, blood bursting from the skin and Hootens screams.

I ignore the blood splatters on my shirt, and I try to hold the artery together, a putrid attempt in trying to stop the bleeding. Of course, this was futile as the man under my hands begins to bleed out right beneath my fingertips. The professor yells and claims he was distracted, but now all I can focus on is trying to save this man's life. "You had the wrong artery!"

"Sneed give me a hand!" Sneed pressed down on the artery, holding the man down from thrashing around. "Tourniquet! Tourniquet, now!" Betty retrieves the tourniquet.

"Three two one." Sneed feels for a pulse, counting down. "Exsanguinate."

"No!" Desperate, I try again, holding the artery together and praying the blood would drop, praying he'll come back. "Come on come on."

"You shouldn't have interfered, Dawkins," Sneed hovers over my shoulder, boiling with rage and anger, I only stare straight ahead. "That'll go on your loss tally, now."

It never gets easier, losing patients.

Seconds pass and I rest my head on the surgical table.
"Betty, I need Mary-Rose."