Chapter 16—LET'S BEGIN!

BREA

Doctor Jason seemed to understand what had passed through my mind.

“Doctor Brea.”

I looked at him.

“Whatever happened on that road will be investigated later. Right now, you're not going into that theatre as the woman involved in an accident. You're going in as a neurosurgeon. The patient needs you to separate those two things.”

My throat tightened slightly.

I nodded.

“I know.”

“Can you do that?”

I took a slow breath.

“Yes.”

“Then let's proceed.”

As we reached the preparation area, I stopped again.

“Before we enter, I need the equipment checked.”

Doctor Jason gestured toward one of the nurses.

“She's listening.”

I turned to her.

“I need a standard cranial surgical set prepared and checked before I enter. Make sure we have sterile scalpels with appropriate blades, bipolar forceps, monopolar cautery, suction tubing and suction tips, retractors, periosteal elevators, rongeurs, Kerrison punches, a high-speed drill with the correct cranial attachments, bone wax, irrigation, sterile saline, hemostatic agents, cottonoid patties, clips, clamps, forceps, needle holders, scissors, sutures, and sterile dressings.”

The nurse listened carefully, her eyes widening slightly as she followed the list.

I continued.

“Check the drill twice. I don't want anyone discovering a malfunction after we've already opened the skull. Make sure the suction is working, confirm that the cautery equipment is functioning, and have additional instruments available in case we need them. I also want extra hemostatic material in the room because if the bleeding is significant, I don't want to lose time waiting for supplies.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

My eyes moved toward Doctor Jason.

“Has the patient's blood been typed and cross-matched?”

“Yes.”

“How many units are available?”

“Four units are currently ready, with more available if necessary.”

“Good. Make sure the blood bank remains on standby.”

I turned back toward the nurse.

“I also need the patient's most recent imaging displayed in the theatre before we begin. The CT scan should be available for everyone involved in the procedure to review. I want to know the exact location and extent of the hemorrhage before I make the first incision.”

“Yes, Doctor Brea.”

“Then hurry,” I said, my voice becoming sharper as urgency returned. “We don't have the luxury of taking our time. Every minute matters when there is bleeding inside someone's skull, and that patient's life may depend on how quickly we get inside that theatre.”

The nurse immediately hurried away.

Doctor Jason watched me for a moment.

“You really don't waste time.”

“Neither does internal bleeding.”

—--------------------

As we approached the operating theatre, something caught my attention.

Blake.

He stood farther down the corridor near the reception area, looking painfully small with his backpack still hanging from one shoulder. The plaster on his head stood out against his dark hair, and although a nurse was standing nearby, he kept looking toward me.

My heart twisted.

I walked toward him, and the moment he saw me approaching, his eyes brightened.

“Mommy.”

I crouched carefully in front of him.

“My sweetheart, I need you to listen to me.”

He nodded.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Yes, but I'm not leaving the hospital. I have to go into one of the operating rooms because someone has been badly hurt, and the doctors need my help.”

His small face became serious.

“Like when you go to work?”

“Exactly like when I go to work.”

He looked toward the theatre doors.

“Will you be gone for long?”

I placed my hands gently on his shoulders.

“I honestly don't know how long the surgery will take, but I need you to stay here and be a good boy for me. Don't wander away, don't leave with anyone you don't know, and if you need anything, you tell the nurse immediately.”

“But what if I want you?”

My heart broke a little.

“You can want me as much as you like, sweetheart,” I said, brushing my thumb gently against his cheek, “but right now, someone else needs me too. The moment I finish, I will come back to you. I promise.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

I kissed his forehead.

Then I stood and approached the nurse seated behind the reception desk.

“Please,” I said quietly, “I need you to watch him for me. His name is Blake, and he is my son. Don't let him leave this area with anyone, and if anything happens, no matter how small, send someone into the theatre to get me.”

The nurse smiled reassuringly.

“You don't have to worry, Doctor. Your son will be perfectly safe with us.”

I looked at Blake one more time.

“Stay here.”

“I will.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Mommy.”

Forcing myself to turn away from him was harder than I expected.

Yet once I faced the theatre doors again, my mind began changing.

Mother.

Woman.

Accident victim.

Those parts of me had to remain outside.

Inside the operating room, I could only be one person.

Doctor Brea Anderson.

—-----------------

The scrub area was cold and brightly lit.

I stepped toward the sink and activated the water, allowing it to run over my hands before beginning the surgical scrub. Carefully, I cleaned beneath my nails, then moved methodically over my fingers, hands, and forearms.

Every movement followed a rhythm I had performed countless times.

Fingers.

Palms.

The backs of my hands.

Wrists.

Forearms.

By the time I finished, my thoughts had grown quieter.

The accident was no longer in my head.

Michael was no longer in my head.

Alexander's unanswered emails were no longer in my head.

There was only the surgery.

Holding my hands upward to keep them sterile, I walked toward the theatre doors.

They opened.

The room beyond them was already alive with movement.

Monitors beeped steadily.

The anesthetic machine hummed.

The patient's CT images glowed from a screen nearby.

Several members of the surgical team turned as I entered.

Two scrub nurses immediately approached me.

“Doctor.”

One of them held open the sterile surgical gown.

Without lowering my hands, I stepped forward.

The gown settled over my shoulders, and the nurses carefully secured it behind me.

Then came the gloves.

One nurse assisted with the first glove.

Another helped with the second.

When they finished, I flexed my fingers slightly.

The room fell into a strange silence.

I walked toward the operating table.

The patient lay completely still beneath the surgical drapes, with only the necessary area exposed and prepared. I could hear the steady rhythm of the monitors and see the anesthesiologist standing at the head of the table.

I took my position.

My eyes moved toward him.

“Has the anesthesia been administered?”

“Yes, Doctor,” he answered. “The patient is fully anesthetized, and all vital signs are currently being monitored.”

I nodded before turning toward the circulating nurse.

“Do we have enough blood available in this room?”

“Yes, Doctor Brea. The requested units are here, and the blood bank has been informed that we may need additional units.”

“Good.”

I glanced toward Doctor Jason, who had now taken his place beside me.

“Are you ready?”

He nodded.

“I'm ready.”

My gaze moved across the room.

Everyone was waiting.

Every person had a role. And every second mattered.

I held out my hand.

“Scalpel.”

The scrub nurse placed it carefully into my waiting hand.

The instrument felt familiar.

I looked down at the patient.

Somewhere beneath my hands was a person whose life had changed because of one terrible moment on the road. I still didn't know who they were. I didn't know their name, their family, or what kind of life waited for them outside this hospital.

All I knew was that they were alive.

And as long as they were alive, I had a chance to help them remain that way.

Taking a deep breath, I raised my eyes toward the surgical team.

“Let's begin.”