The Mystery Patient

Lyana

As strange as it is I can't take my eyes off the man lying on the bed in front of me, his rhythmic beats should be something positive but the reality is that seeing the way the strong-bodied body is lost amidst the white sheets of the bed causes a pang of pain inside my chest. I sigh once again building up the courage to say a few words to her somehow I need to know that she is okay, to know that she will survive. Cassandra beeps an emergency message on my cell phone, I rush out to the hospital emergency room and find the pair of emergency responders bringing an elderly gentleman under the stretcher hurriedly, I put the stethoscope on promptly, doing a quick auscultation identifying the out of rhythm beat by some ventricular murmur.

I nod to the nurse

. 

"Call Doctor Michaels to the surgical center." I passed the order. 

Leaving the interns behind rushing to the surgical center, elderly patient unconscious, low heart rate, auscultation with ventricular murmur, and low pressure. All the indications of a heart attack requiring surgical intervention, as a traumatologist, many often diminish my abilities in other areas of medicine, the same old jokes. 

If the bone didn't break, then nothing is wrong.

Give me a muscle relaxant and don't check the pressure, phrases like these are common and annoying for someone who dedicates his life to studies in search of helping save lives

It's not my fault if many colleagues are not at all concerned about their patients or if they disrespect our specialization by being idiots; what I can do is do my best for those who come into my hands. 

That's why I don't prepare myself to go into surgery, I enter the surgical center going straight to the echocardiography equipment helping the technician to connect all the points to speed up the intubation of the patient and prepare him/her. As I imagined the echocardiogram showing the beginning of a heart attack, I see Michaels entering. 

"Did you page me for surgery?" He raises his eyebrow and I can see disbelief in his gaze 

"Infarction with an intraventricular murmur, echocardiogram with a non-standard curve rhythm with restrictive pattern." 

I quickly inform him without caring that this makes someone look at me as if I were an internist and not a doctor specializing in trauma surgery. I can see the way the man's gaze turns as he gives orders for the changes inside the surgery center requesting the video equipment to start a less invasive approach. When everything is ready and his hand begins to move the wire down the inferior aortic branch I question:

"Do you still need anything?"

I could have sworn looking for a smile at the corner of his lips as he handled the video camera along with the standard stent. 

"I would like your company if possible."

The sound of whispering in the room ceases, the technicians who have been drooling over the man for a few months completely curious, I let out a sigh under my mask it's not as if I have another call at the moment, Adria usually calls me because she knows that I have the habit of promptly identifying the surgical needs of a patient, but it's something I intend to talk to her about, I can't keep doing the impossible for everyone mainly because I'm no chief of surgery and I don't intend to receive a call for that. 

"As far as I can see, you have everything under control, Doctor," I reply confidently. 

"Cases like this are often misinterpreted, some patients don't make it to the operating table and what was my surprise to find my patient already diagnosed."

"Before being your patient, he is a hospital patient being admitted to the emergency room, I answered the call and made the diagnosis. 

I don't lower my head, much less have to apologize for doing my job well. 

"It's not a criticism, doctor, it's a compliment. I admire being a traumatologist. "- he opens his stupid smile. 

If at any time during this week I have taken a moment to find this man handsome I withdraw my admiration, I usually love men as they love us women: in bed. 

However, I have certain prerequisites and because of this many who work with me are often disqualified for their extreme arrogance, which seems to be a standard of the profession. 

"Traumatology deals with constant cases of collapses and contrary to what many people think, we do not deal only with bones." - I making clear my disapproval of your stupid comment. 

Before I can say anything else, we hear the sound of the cell phone ringing which completely breaks the silence of the room, all eyes fall on the table, specifically on my cell phone, Jane one of the surgical assistants picks it up and answers. 

"Doctor Lyana the patient from the explosion is awake." - Her soft voice attracts our attention. 

No one can hide their astonished faces, the rumors about the man have spread like a plague inside the hospital, I need to breathe in and out three times before moving away from the operating table towards the exit of the room. But mostly in an attempt to hide my anxiety to check out the Russian wolf as I hear some people calling him softly.

I don’t know why I’m so anxious to know if he’s okay, there’s the ethic of maintaining medical treatment, I can do this with all the others and this feeling of concern more precisely with a specific patient is making my nerves tremble as I walk through the cold corridors of the hospital heading towards the room. I bite my lips in expectation, it was impossible not to hear the rumors about the feared Russian mobster wolf, I tried to work and do my best not to treat him differently from others. Still, my heart is beating strong and uncompressed as I approach, I need to stop in front of the damn door seeking to control my breath. In short breaths resume control of my thoughts before meeting with him.