You Cannot Force A Dead Heart Novels & Stories

This astronomical sum was something ordinary people could never hope to earn, even in ten lifetimes. Although the life-for-a-life method was cruel, society was simply pragmatic. For heart transplant surgeries across the world, donors must be determined to be brain-dead before donation. Otherwise, they wouldn't be legally eligible to be a heart donor.

Dina was really anxious, she stepped forward and pulled her down, "What do you mean there's no need! Myocardial necrosis is not a terminal disease. You'll be fine once you have a heart transplant. You have to come back to me right away. We'll go to the hospital and get treated.” Avery forcefully flung her hand away, and she looked deeply into Dina's eyes, before finally crying, "Dina, we study medicine, so we cannot lie to ourselves. Our hearts must be transplanted, and the number of donors is almost zero. Moreover, even if you were lucky enough to find a heart, you would still know how low the success rate is. Even if the operation was successful, you would still have to face rejection and

And I'm not in a position to ask questions right now. I don't know how much time has passed, maybe just a little, but to me, who is now struggling to breathe, it feels like forever. My heart, which was pounding hard before, is now starting to weaken, I almost can't feel it beating anymore. When your body doesn't have enough oxygen, all your organs start the process of committing suicide. Starting from red blood cells that don't transport enough oxygen, disrupting the work process of organs starting from the heart to the brain.

He felt so cold that it was as though his heart had frozen and was about to shatter. "What's wrong, Henry? Why aren't you saying anything? Didn't you say you'd do anything for me?" Regina asked. She looked displeased, staring at him accusingly because Henry hadn't responded to her request. The moment he met her eyes, his frozen heart shattered into a thousand pieces. "You're asking for my heart, Regina! My heart!" Henry argued. Humans only had one heart, which was the most vital organ in the body. It wasn't like donating a kidney or part of a liver, where one could still continue living after. Once someone lost their heart, they would be done for. They would be dead.

With one look at his chart, I knew he was here to stay for the near future. “We need to run some tests on your heart, Sir.” “Not you, too,” Harold grumbled. “Tell them I’m fine.” “You aren’t fine. Your heartrate is off the charts and your symptoms correlate with failure.” “You are overreacting.” I looked at him firmly, doctor to patient. My familial love had no place here. “Sir. If you are not treated for this immediately, you will die. I’m not sure you want to leave this world strictly because you are stubborn, do you?”

"I’m dead, Debbie. My heart will just stop." "Rex, don't say that," I said, my hand moving to the towel. I wiped the blood. "You're not going to die. Instead, I will go inform your brothers and we will look for another med to give." "No. It’s too much for the heart. It will fail anyway." He gripped my wrist a little tighter. "Please. I need... I need… I need you… you… you are the only thing that can keep me alive right now."

There was no pulse. Clinical death. The biological agent of Project Ouroboros had finally paralyzed his central nervous system, stopping his heart. Chest compressions would be utterly useless; she couldn't manually pump blood through veins that were actively necrotic. She had, at most, three to four minutes before the lack of oxygen caused irreversible brain death. Three minutes to navigate a labyrinth of her own design, retrieve the synthetic binding agent, and inject it directly into his myocardium.

he choked out, his silver eyes fixed on me. In medicine, when a heart enters a fatal rhythm, you don't try to soothe it. You don't try to join the erratic beats. You shock it. You introduce a massive, singular disruption to force the system to reset. I looked at my children: my beautiful, broken trinity. I didn't reach for their hands. I didn't complete the circle. Instead, I drove the silver dagger not into my palm, but into the floorboards at the foot of the bed, right through the shadow vines that were feeding Isabella's magic.

"You have three IV lines hooked to your arm! If you pull one out, Director Shaw will lock me in the basement cells!" "Let go of me, Tristan!" Silver huffed, shoving his hands away with surprising force for someone who had suffered a Blue-Tint Syndrome heart failure less than twenty-four hours ago. "What do I need doctors for when Darcy is right here?!" Tristan rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in sheer exasperation. "Miss Ellington cannot reverse dead heart tissue every single day! Keep your blood pressure down for five minutes so we don't have to carry you back to the Citadel in a box!"

“That is why we continue to practice meditation on a regular basis. It is important to remember what you learned today.” “I am not even quite sure what I learned at this point.” I admit quietly. “Ah.” She smiles knowingly. “I forgot just how overwhelming the first connection can be.” I look at her, waiting for an explanation. “What you felt is almost like the life force of everything. We sometimes call it a heartbeat because, as it pulses, it connects with all life. That connection is what allows life to continue.” I stare at her. “If that connection is completely severed from someone, they die. If you can repair a connection that has been partially severed, then that person can live.”