·˚ ༘ ┊͙[magnetic hearts and souls] ! ˊˎ
in which the brain surgeon and the heart surgeon are like magnets, their hearts being pulled together slowly. 𝘢𝘯𝘥 in which the brain surgeon and the heart surgeon have been through it all, but n...
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oxx. john harris 10.02
Doctor Atlas Lee-Sunny Shepherd, stood in the sterile, brightly lit operating room, his gloved hands over the open chest of his patient, Mr. John Harris. The rhythmic beeping of the monitor filled the operating room, a constant reminder of the life hanging in the balance. Atlas's team, a well-oiled machine of nurses and fellow surgeon, Christina Yang, moved withi practiced precision around him. This wasn't their rodeo; they had all done this before.
John Harris, a reoccurring patient of Atlas's, was a 58-year-old man with a history of heart disease. He had come in with severe chest pain early this morning when Christina was working in the emergency room, and after a series of tests that she had ordered, it was clear that he needed immediate surgery to repair a ruptured aorta that was causing him so much pain.
Christina had done this procedure many times, but she was now a fellow, and Mr. Harris was Atlases patient, so she called him up and gave him the run down as they had entered the operating room.
"Scalpel," Atlas requested, his voice steady and calm. The instrument was placed in his hand by Bookie, a nurse who he enjoyed to have in his operating room, and then he made the first incision with the confidence of a very seasoned professional. His mind was focused, his movements deliberate; he had done this before and almost all cases he has successful surgery.
Atlas did the surgery just like he had learnt when he was younger. He did every step right and there were no complications, until there was. Nothing went smoothly today Atlas was concluding as he tried to suction the blood that was filling the chest cavity. He had been woken up early because his daughter hadn't been feeling good, and then he had been called into surgery.
"Clamp," he said, and the nurse handed him the tool. Atlas carefully clamped the aorta, trying to control the bleeding that was becoming too much. The heart monitor's beeping grew more erratic, and Atlas felt a pang of anxiety in his chest. It rung in his ears as he tried to control the bleeding. "Thank you."
"He's losing a lot of blood," Christina, his fellow and colleague, observed from across the table where she worked to help control the bleeding. Her presence to Atlas was both reassuring and a reminder of the gravity of the situation, that he still needed her help.
"I know," Atlas replied, his voice tight and slightly rude, which has him briefly looking up from the patient. "Sorry, C."
The heart monitor beeped more erratically before it started to make one long beep. "Come on, John," Atlas whispered under his breath from behind his mask. "Stay with me." He tried to control the bleeding, but there was only so much that lap pads and suctioning could do.
"Prepare the defibrillator," Christina ordered as she started to take over, her voice firm. The nurse quickly complied, and the device was brought to the table. She placed the paddles on John's chest, her heart pounding in her ears as she had watched Atlas freeze ever so slightly.
"Clear!" she called out, and the team stepped back. The jolt of electricity coursed through John's body in hopes it would restart his heart, causing him to jerk on the table. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the heart monitor to show signs of life.
"No," Atlas muttered, refusing to accept what the monitor was telling him, he couldn't tell Johns wife and family that he had let him die. "Charge it again."
They repeated the process, but the result was the same as before. John's heart had stopped, and despite their best efforts, it wasn't coming back.
"Time of death, 6:52 AM." Atlas said, his voice filled with sorrow. The team began the somber task of closing up the incision and preparing John for the morgue. Or for wherever the family wanted his body.
Atlas stepped back from the table, his hands trembling. He ripped of his gloves and mask, feeling the weight of the failure settle on his shoulders. He and Christina had done everything they could, but it hadn't been enough. This is the little tiny part that made him hate what he did, the loss of the patients he wished he could save.
"Atly," Christina said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You did everything you could. We did everything we could. Sometimes, it's just out of our hands."
He nodded, but the words offered little comfort in the moment. The loss was still fresh, the wound still raw. Atlas knew that he could go to the labs and replay the surgery, he could find out what he could have done different, what could have saved his patient. His patient. His long time patient, who he's saved every other time.
As he left the operating room, Atlas took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He had other patients to see, other lives to save. But for now, he needed a moment to grieve, to process the loss of John Harris, someone whose wife in thanks baked him cookies and knitted his children hats and mittens.
In the quiet of the hospital surgery corridor, Atlas allowed himself two minutes of vulnerability. He leaned against the wall, eyes closed, and let the tears fall. It was a small release, a way to honor the life that had slipped through his fingers. He let anyone see that maybe he cared just a little too much, but that he cared. He let the nurses smile sadly with hope for the heart surgeon, but he just brushed them off and shed his tears.
And then, with a deep breath, when his two minutes were up, he straightened up, wiped his eyes, and prepared to move forward. There were other patients waiting, other battles to fight, others who he needed to save and help. Because to Atlas, that was what it meant to be a surgeon, to fight against death and to carry the weight of loss.
authors note ══════ ☆
i feel like atlas in surgery isn't shown as much, so this was a nice little chapter. also -- help -- why can't i remember how old starlee is like what ?! in season 4 she was only five months old. i believe that in season 4 it was stated that it was 2007, and in season 10 it's supposed to be 2013, which would make her around five?!!?! in my head and in this fic she's like three. oops! maybe she'll have a birthday same with cameron. because in season eight (2011-2012) atlas and derek addopted cameron and i stated that he was three, a year and fourish months older than starlee. AHH!
realistically starlee should be five and a half ish, and cameron should be seven ish. like what? why am i so bad at ages omg. pretend this is the sims and age them up in the next chapter and we all swear nothing happend?
