Chapter 6. Unsuccessful

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CHAPTER SIX: UNSUCCESSFUL

LOVE ANDREI LEE

Fast forward (Love Andrei and Aria two months together)

Ramdam ko ang tensyon sa loob ng operating room, sumasabay pa ang beeping ng monitor at ang kasalukuyang paghahanda ng team ko para sa isasagawa naming maselan na operasyon.

My eyes were locked on the patient lying on the operating table—a 45-year-old man who’d been rushed in with a ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm. At bago pa man ang lahat, alam na namin na 30% lang ang chance of survival ng pasyente. Ipinagpauna na rin namin ‘yon sa mga kaanak nitong naghihintay sa kaniya sa labas.

Nakakalungkot, but as a surgeon, I couldn’t let that number weigh me down. All I could do was focus on what needed to be done.

“Magsisimula na tayo. Focus,” sabi ko sa team habang ginagawa ang unang hiwa. Time was our greatest enemy. Kailangan kong ma-clamp ang aorta sa itaas ng pumutok na bahagi, kontrolin ang pagdurugo, at palitan ang nasirang parte ng synthetic graft.

For a while, it seemed like we were making progress. The clamps were in place, and I could see the path to repairing the damage. But f*ck... biglang bumulwak ang maraming dugo at may tumalsik pa sa suot kong surgical mask hanggang sa noo ko at sintido.

“Excessive bleeding, Dr. Lee!” one of the nurses exclaimed, panic creeping into her voice.

Nag-panic na rin ang ilang nurse na nakapaikot sa ‘kin as blood began pouring out faster than we could control it. My heart pounded as I tried to locate the source. Lalong lumala ang punit sa artery, making the situation even more critical.

“Suction!” mariin kong utos. Sa lakas ng boses ko, nagulat pa ang katabi kong nurse. “Clamp the proximal side tighter. We can’t afford to lose more blood.”

“BP is crashing, Doc!” tarantang sabi ng isa pang nurse.

F*ck, f*ck, f*ck!

I worked as fast as I could, but the bleeding wouldn’t stop. The room felt suffocating, the air heavy with the unspoken fear we all shared. Pero sa aming lahat, mas ako ang nakakaramdam ng takot dahil sa kamay ko nakasalalay ang buhay ng pasyente.

30% chance of survival. Alam kong malabo na pero umaasa sa mga numerong ‘yon ang pamilya niyang nasa labas. Umaasa sila sa magagawa ng mga kamay ko.

“Focus everyone!” sigaw ko uli dahil nataranta silang lalo sa hindi pagtigil ng pagbulwak ng dugo.

Then moments later came the sound I dreaded most: a flatline.

The continuous, piercing beep of the heart monitor seemed to echo in my chest.

“Cardiac arrest!” sigaw ng isang nurse, hindi ko na alam kung sino sa kanila ang sumigaw dahil naka-focus ako sa pasyente.

“Defibrillator, now!” I barked, grabbing the paddles as soon as they were handed to me. I pressed them against the patient’s chest. “Clear!” The patient’s body jolted, but the monitor didn’t change. Flatline pa rin. “Charge again! 360 joules. Clear!”

Another shock. Nothing.

Parang sumikip at bumigat ang dibdib ko habang pinagmamasdan ang walang buhay na katawan ng pasyente sa operating table. No movement, no pulse. Just the shrill, unrelenting sound of failure.

“Charge again,” I said quietly, almost to myself. Nanlalambot na ako pero sinubukan ko pa rin habang may namumuong mga butil ng pawis sa noo ko at sintido.

“Dr. Lee,” mahinang tawag sa ‘kin ng isang babaeng nurse sa harap ko, “wala na pong response.”

Nag-angat ako ng tingin sa kaniya, tiningnan ko siya at hindi ko napigilang magtaas ng boses. “I said again!”

Sa halip na sundin ako, napayuko siya. Wala na ni isa sa kanila ang kumilos para sundin ako, and the reality hit me like a punch to the gut when I heard her whisper, “Time of death, 8:57 PM.”

For a moment, everything around me stopped. My hands, usually so steady, trembled slightly as I set the paddles down. Ginawa ko ang lahat ng makakaya ko—lahat—pero hindi sapat.

Dahan-dahan kong hinubad ang gloves kong naliligo sa dugo habang nanatili ang tingin ko sa pasyente. Binalikan ko ang bawat proseso na ginawa ko, inisip ko kung may mali ba ‘kong nagawa. May kulang ba?

“Dr. Lee?” tawag ng isang nurse, mahina ang boses niya at halatang nag-aalala.

“I’m fine,” I said, though I barely recognized my own voice. “Clean up. Notify the family.”

I stepped out of the OR matapos kong linisin ang sarili ko, feeling a weight in my chest I’d never experienced before. This was my first loss on the table, and it left me hollow, like a piece of me had been left behind in that room.

I leaned against the wall outside, closing my eyes and letting out a shaky breath. I had always known that losing a patient was a possibility. Hindi 'yon maiiwasan dahil parte na 'yon ng trabaho at propesyon bilang doktor. But nothing could have prepared me for how it felt.

Failure. Helplessness. Guilt.

Umalis ako sa ospital na baon ang bigat ng dibdib. Imbes na umuwi sa bahay, kusa akong dinala ng sarili ko sa isang bar. I didn’t plan it, but my body seemed to crave alcohol, hoping it could drown the memories of what happened in the operating room.

Alas dies noong umalis ako sa bar. Sumabay pa ang ulan kaya nabasa ako noong tinungo ko ang sasakyan ko sa parking lot. I knew I was drunk, but I still managed to drive—barely. Not to my house, though. My instincts led me somewhere else.

To her.

The rain continued to pour as I parked in front of Aria's apartment building. I didn’t care that I was getting soaked; I just needed to see her. I stepped out of the car and stood at the gate, fumbling with my phone to call her.

Sa ikatlong ring, doon pa lang siya sumagot. “Love?” she answered, her voice groggy. She had probably been asleep. I felt a pang of guilt for disturbing her.

“Aria…” I began, but my words trailed off. I didn’t know how to voice the storm raging inside me. Kung gaano kabigat ang nararamdaman ko dulot ng unsuccessful operation.

“Love?” she called out again. “Nasaan ka? Bakit parang ang ingay sa paligid mo?”

Maingay. Of course, it was. The rain was pounding around me, and I was standing there, drenched from head to toe.

“I’m here. Outside,” I said softly.

Hindi ko na siya narinig na nagsalita pa. Kaluskos na lang ang narinig ko mula sa kabilang linya at ang malakas na kalabog ng pinto niya. Moments later, biglang bumukas ang metal na gate ng apartment building niya.

“Love!” Mabilis niya ‘kong nilapitan at isinukob sa dala niyang payong. “Ano’ng ginagawa mo rito? Bakit ka nagpaulan? Basang-basa ka! Halika sa loob.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Tinangay niya ‘ko papasok sa loob. Tumutulo ang tubig sa katawan at damit ko habang paakyat kami sa hagdan. Pagpasok namin sa kuwarto niya, dinala niya agad sa banyo ang ginamit na payong at doon itinayo sa gilid.

Kumuha siya ng malinis na towel at ibinigay sa ‘kin. “Magpunas ka. Baka magkasakit ka n’yan,” utos niya sa ‘kin, nakatayo siya sa harap ko.

Pero hindi ko nagawang kumilos. Hawak ko lang ang towel na binigay niya habang nakatitig sa kaniya. Her presence, her care, was a balm to my frayed nerves, but the ache of failure lingered. I didn’t know how to tell her the truth. I didn’t know if I even could.

“Tsk. Ako na nga.” Kinuha niya sa ‘kin ang towel at siya ang nagpunas sa ‘kin. Inuna niya ang basa kong buhok, sunod niyang dinampian ang mukha ko. Pero habang ginagawa niya ‘yon, kusang umangat ang isa kong kamay para hulihin ang wrist niya.

Natigil ang pagdampi niya ng towel sa mukha ko. Gamit ang isa kong kamay hinapit ko siya sa baywang palapit sa katawan ko. Her eyes widened, questioning, but before she could say anything, my lips crashed into hers.

It wasn’t soft or hesitant. It was desperate, filled with everything I couldn’t put into words—the frustration, the guilt, the need for her comfort. For that fleeting moment, I let her warmth drown out the cold emptiness that had been consuming me since I left the hospital.

Ilang sandali pa ang lumipas bago ko naramdaman ang pagganti niya sa halik ko, kasabay ng pag-angat ng mga kamay niya para ipulupot sa batok ko. Lalo ko siyang hinapit sa katawan ko. She’s so tiny kaya nagawa ko siyang buhatin at dalhin sa pader. Isinandal ko ro’n ang likod niya habang lalo kong pinalalim ang halikan naming dalawa.