The hospital sickened me. I hated the sterile air, it smelled of disinfectant and hospital soap. I hated the blinding white of the walls that hurt my eyes. But most of all, I hated the doctors that poked and prodded me, pricking me with needles whilst being falsely cheerful. This was the last place I wanted to be. Ironically, this hospital was where I had spent most of my fifteen years.
The reason I’ve been in the hospital and why everyone treats me like I’m a fragile china doll that will break at any second is because I have a heart defect. It’s called Hypoplastic left heart syndrome, and it’s congenital. Instead of giving you all that doctor-talk junk, here’s a translation: parts of my heart are too small and too weak to pump blood throughout my body. So that means I can’t run, play sports, or do anything that will stress my heart, because the blood isn’t circulated throughout my body right.
I’m here with my parents today. We’re at St. Mary’s hospital for my monthly checkup. The doctors hope I’ll be getting a new heart, but I’m still on the waiting list. They say I need one soon, because chances of survival without one are slim. I hope I can get a new heart too. One that will work, one that will free me, that will let play soccer, let me run, let me be normal.
“Mr. and Mrs. Clarke,” the kindly looking doctor says, speaking to my parents, “May I speak to you for a moment in private?”
“Of course,” my Mum said, briskly walking out to follow Dr. Rhines. My dad follows her out.
After a few minutes of tense whispering, my Mum and Dad along with Dr. Rhines came back in. My mom had that crease between her eyebrows that told me she was worried. My dad thinned his lips, looking somber. Dr. Rhines said to me in a deep voice, “Beth, we’ve found you a heart. We want to operate right away. The sooner, the better.”
My mom rushed over and embraced me tightly, telling me everything would be okay. My dad offered words of encouragement, but I was still frightened.
A new heart! A part of me representing love and hope was going to be replaced. Without anyone having to tell me, I was already afraid. I knew the risks of a heart transplant. Even I didn’t know if I was to survive. “Please, tell me, who is donating this heart to me?” I asked of Dr. Rhines.
He replied, “There was a young boy, found in the wilderness by a search-and-rescue team. We couldn’t locate his parents. He died of unknown causes, but after administering some tests, we found all his organs healthy and intact. We’ve decided to donate his organs.”
I thought this was a rather odd story, but I thanked the heavens for it. I would get a new heart because of this kind boy.
“If you’ll come this way, we will prep you for surgery as soon as possible. As I mentioned before, the sooner you get the heart, the better it will be for you. Medics are airlifting the heart here. It should arrive very soon,” Dr. Rhines said.
He led me into another room, where I laid down onto a hospital bed. I had changed into a flimsy paper gown and a nurse came in to swab down my body with iodine. Then she laid me down onto an operating table.
Soon after, an anesthesiologist came and injected me with a drug, probably to put me to sleep. I began feeling drowsy.
My parents came in and Dad said, “Don’t you worry sweetheart, we’ll be with you the whole time. We love you.”
Mom and Dad’s kind faces were the last thing I saw before I feel into a deep slumber.
Every Beat of My Heart by zazzy7
Chapter Notes: This story does turn magical soon, so bear with me!
Disclaimer: Not JK!
Chapter Endnotes: Thanks for reading, oh please, please review!