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Timothy
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He. Is. Your. Son.
His words whirl around my head and ears, and I feel like I’m not in my own body. I look down at my hands and see all his blood on my gloves. My son’s blood, and as I realize and think about the words, I start to hyperventilate and freak out. I had my son’s heart in my hands. He could have died, and it would’ve been my fault. I slide down against the wall and sag there. I close my eyes for a second to help shut my mind off, and thoughts are just louder. I feel like I will be sick, and I jump up and make it just in time to the sink. I start to hyperventilate harder, and the room is spinning. I can hear everything going around me, but I can’t respond. All I can do is stare at them.
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“Shit, he’s in shock. Penny, call his brother now.” Dr. Kingsly orders.
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“Yes, sir,” she says, running out of the room.
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“Dr. Orozco, Can you hear me?” Anthony says. He bends down to me and removes my gloves and my sterile gown. “I’m going to take off your scrub shirt; you have blood on it.” He takes off the shirt, and I feel something cold on my neck, and I cringe. “Sorry, Doc, just putting some ice on your neck.”
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“What the fuck happened to my brother?” I hear Toby say.
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“He just found out the little boy he just did surgery on is his son,” Anthony says quietly.
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“Say what?”
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“Yeah, he donated blood, and we had to do all the proper testing, and something flagged, and we ran the DNA.” Dr. Kingsly says.
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“Wait, is that why you asked me to donate blood?” Toby asked.
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“Yes, we needed to make sure it was right.”
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“You know that I’m gay, right?” Toby laughs. Glad he thinks this is funny. “What do you need me to do?”
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“Take him to the on-call room and get him in the shower, and we’ll meet in my office conference room.” Dr. Kingsly says.
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“Okay, buddy, let’s get you up and in the shower.” Toby helps stand me up.
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“Do you need any help?” Penny asks.
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“Penny, give it a fucking rest, now,” Toby snips at her. “Bro, why did you fuck with her? Esta Loca.” We get into the on-call room bathroom. He sits me on the bench and undresses me. I start to shake in sobs, and I can’t help it. “Hermano, talk to me.”
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“I have a son Toby a fucking son! I have missed four years of his life. When I found out that they had no medical history from his father because he wasn’t in his life, I called the dad a piece of shit. Well, fuck, I’m the piece of shit.” He turns on the shower, and I step in. “I don’t even know who the mother is. I’ve only had two long-term relationships and only once had one nightstand.”
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“Wait, Mr. respect, all women had a one-night stand? When?”
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“When I came down to visit you that weekend of the music festival when you ditched me.”
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“Hurry so we can find out who your baby mama is?”
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I get dressed in the clothes I wore to the hospital: a UCSF t-shirt and Adidas sweat pants. I comb my dirty blonde hair, the hair my siblings and I inherited from our Cuban Papa. I feel a sense of calm over me. For the last few years, I have always thought I was missing something, and now it makes sense that it was him—my son.
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“How do I look?”
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“Like a doctor that just operated for six hours. You look fine. Let's go.” We went up the elevator and walked into the conference room.
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“Sit down, Timothy. The mother will be up soon. Did you not know that you had a son?” Dr. Kingsly asks
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“No, you think that I would leave my child? No, I wouldn’t.”
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“Don’t get worked up, Timmy,” Toby says. The door opens, and Moriah walks in.
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“Are you ready?” I haven’t told her what is going on, but I think she’ll figure it out once she sees you.” She says, and I nod. She leaves the room again and enters again with two people. I look up, and all the air leaves my body. There stands the girl that got away. The girl that I think about all the time.
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“Neveah,” I say quietly, and she looks between Toby and me.
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“Miss Villa, this is Dr. Timothy Orozco,” Moriah says. Realization dawns on her face.
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“Wait, you did the surgery on my son?”
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“Our son,” I correct her. “But, yes, I did.”
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“Please sit down, Miss Villa,” Dr. Kinsly says, and she sits down.
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“I wish I knew that I had a son,” I say quietly as I get emotional. “Do you think I can speak to you alone?”
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“I think that would be best if we did,” she says. Everyone nods, and they leave the room.
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“I feel cheated. I missed out on four years of my son’s life.” I say.
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“I have something to tell you, Tj, or would you like me to call you Timothy?”
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“Either is fine, or you can call me Timmy. What do you want to tell me?” I ask.
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“It’s not only Noah. He has a twin sister. You have a daughter too.”
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