Timothy
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My whole body is sore from standing on my feet for the last five hours deep in this little boy’s chest. It was more involved than we initially thought, but it looks pretty good. We are ready to take him off bypass and get his heart doing what it needs to do on its own. This is always the part that makes me hold my breath until I see the heart pink up and beat on its own.
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“Let’s take him off of bypass, Dr. Chavez, please,” I say to my Cardiopulmonlogist who helped out today. She turns it off and gives me the thumbs up. I stand there with bated breath. “Penny, let the family know we will be done here in about an hour,” I say into a microphone and look up into the gallery.
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“Yes, Dr. Orozco and Dr. Orozco, would you like the usual?”
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“Yes, please, and get one for yourself and Anthony,” I say. My tradition is to get an In and Out Burger after every surgery. I usually watch my diet, but this is a little gift to myself. I look back at Noah; nothing is happening, and my heart is pounding in my chest. I give it a gentle thump. “Come on, come on.” Machines start screeching that sound that no surgeon wants to hear, the sound of a flat line. “NO! Noah, don’t do this. I’m going to do manual compressions. Stand by for instructions on shocking his heart if we need to.”I put my hands around his tiny heart and gently squeeze his heart.
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“Come on, Noah,” Anthony says in an almost whisper. “Mama is waiting for you.”
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“You hear that, buddy? Your Mama is waiting for you.” I say. I’m getting anxious. “Okay, I am going to stop compressions.” I take a deep breath, let go of his heart, and step back. It’s so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. The machines come to life, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. “Now that’s how it’s done! Dang, kid almost gave me a heart attack.”
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I usually let my surgical resident Fabian close up, but I wanted to do it myself. In case we had to open his chest again. I take my time and do the sutures I have perfected over the years that will cause minimal scarring. Anthony goes to talk to mom while I sit at Noah’s bedside in the ICU. I document everything in his chart and step away to get a bite to eat in the on-call room. I take the first bite, and my pager goes off, and it’s Noah’s room. I swallowed the food in my mouth and ran down the hall. I run into his room and look around at the nurses for them to tell me what is happening. I examine him to ensure all his leads are hooked and notice his blood pressure is low. I grab a vial of Hydrocortisone, and as I am about to administer it through his IV, the Chief Medical Director, Dr. Kingsly, enters the room.
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“Orozco, I need a word with you,” Dr. Kingsly says.
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“Let me just administer this medication, and I’m all yours.”
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“Philips will take over from here,” Kingsly says.
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“Noah Vega is my patient,” I say adamantly.
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“Timothy, this is a direct order. Move away from the patient now.”
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“Fine, what the hell is going on.”
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“Let’s go to my office.”
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I give my patient to Dr. Phillips and walk down the hallway with Dr. Kingsly. I see Toby as I’m walking down the hall, and he puts his hands up in a what’s up gesture, and I shrug my shoulders. All the thoughts going through my head are getting away with me. Maybe Penny got mad that I won’t date her, and perhaps she made a complaint that I let Anthony be my scrub nurse today.
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We finally reach his office, and there is the hospital lawyer. Shit, this can’t be good.
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