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A Hero’s Love
Posey Parks
1
Ethan
Upon bursting through the operating room doors, I ripped the blue surgical gown from my body, throwing it to the scrub room floor. After peeling off the bloody gloves and shoe covers, I disposed of the items into the waist-high red biohazard bin. I rested both hands against the wall, dropping my head. I took a deep breath, shutting my eyelids tight over my blue eyes. I exhaled pushing through the doors and stepped into the bright hallway. This part of the job was never easy. The family huddled together in the waiting room as I approached and swiped the blue surgical cap from my blond hair.
The woman sitting in the center glanced in my direction. “Dr. Daniels!” Mrs. Gomez stated with wide eyes.
She hopped to her feet, meeting me in the middle of the room. Her sad eyes read my remorseful face. Mrs. Gomez’s head shook side to side. “No! No!”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Gomez, I did everything I could.”
Her family quickly surrounded her. An older gentleman wrapped his arm around her waist, leaning her body against him in an effort to help her stand.
“The tumor metastasized throughout the brain. I wasn’t able to remove all the tumor. Mr. Gomez’s heart stopped. We tried to revive him. His body wasn’t strong enough to withstand the trauma. I am sorry for your loss, Mrs. Gomez.”
Tears slid down her olive-colored face. The man at her side pulled her into his arms. He glanced at me and nodded.
“Papa, why?” Mrs. Gomez cried and shivered in his arms.
Taking in the room, I remorsefully stared into the eyes of the relatives and friends of Mrs. Gomez.
Saving a life attempting to be snuffed out by death is a great adrenaline rush. However, working effortlessly to save a life then losing your patient in the blink of an eye rattles you to the core.
I turned on my heels and walked down the long hallway toward the staff locker room. Doctors and nurses spoke in passing. My smile didn’t quite meet my eyes. I couldn’t blame myself for losing this patient.
I graduated top of my class from Yale School of Medicine. Brain surgery is my specialty. I successfully operated on two hundred and thirty patients last year and only lost three. Of course, no surgeon wants any loss of life. My objective was to save every patient. Currently, I worked out of an office here in Massachusetts General. At age thirty, I was considering opening my own practice. I was only interested in recruiting top surgeons like myself. This would provide some much-needed free time in my life. I didn’t have time for love while working sixty-plus hours a week. My focus was my career. I only cared about being the best in my field. Money wasn’t a driver either. My parents had always provided the best for myself, my sister, and brother.
I noticed Doctor Asher getting dressed for the night shift as I stepped into the doctor’s lounge. I plopped on the cushioned brown bench next to him.
“Hard day?” he asked, staring at his reflection in the locker mirror.
“Yeah, rough surgery. I lost a patient,” I stated, dropping my head in my hands.
His heavy hand landed on my shoulder. “It never gets easier losing a patient. I’m sorry, Ethan.”
“Thanks, man.” I ran my fingers through my hair.
I glanced at Brandon. His brown beard appeared scruffy. “Get much sleep?”
Brandon flashed his pearly white teeth. “No, my wife recently gave birth to our second child, Brandon III.”
“Congratulations, man! I heard the nurses buzzing around the hospital about the joyous news. How was paternity leave?”
He laughed. “Busy!”
“Brandon, have you ever thought about going private?”
He folded his arms across his blue scrubs. “I haven’t.”
“Well, I have. I’m thinking about opening my own practice. You have a high surgery success rate. If I go private, I’d like to bring you on as one of the doctors.”
He stared blankly at his locker then back at me. “I don’t know. I enjoy working in the emergency room.”
“Brandon, your father is the chief. I’m sure he’d allow you to work in the emergency room every now and then.”
