Title: Broken Hearts
Henrik Hanssen threw down the suction tube and metal surgical instrument in temper. It was extremely unlike him to show any emotion when operating, however, this was different. "How could he have let this happen?" He hadn't lost a patient in over 7 years! Although this time, it had been different. The man that lay before him was a mess; his aorta had been severed, leaving little or no real chance of survival. How he had made it to the hospital alive, was beyond belief. The support machine's lights started flashing and bleeping...blood pressure was falling. "What blood pressure," he though? "It's over," shouted Hanssen as the noise of the life support machine was finally silenced.
"Could he have done any more?" He asked himself. All that skill, all that technology, and still he hadn't been able to save the father. He felt physically sick and removing his gown and surgical gloves, made his way to the sink, where he began washing his hands. As he performed this action he looked down and noted that some of the man's blood had seeped onto his expensive shirt. Henrik sighed, and vomited violently; he needed to be alone, collect his thoughts and decide what needed to be done next.
The child that had also been involved in the car accident had been saved but at what cost? When awake, how did one go about telling him that his father had died? Henrik Hanssen shuddered uncomfortably. He had been 11 years old when his mother had passed away. It had been a sudden death one beautiful June afternoon, and Hanssen knew more than anyone, that you never really emerged from an experience like that without some part of you, missing. He quickly regained his composure, and his thoughts once more, returned to the boy. Sasha Levy had weighed up all the pros and cons but in the end they both knew that the child's spleen had to be removed. There wasn't any other choice. The surgery was efficient and the operation had been another textbook success. They had needed to act quickly and now the child was in the recovery room. Hanssen had specifically requested that he was to receive hourly updates as to how the child was coping. Hanssen sighed and then and only then began to wonder how he was going to break the news to the wife and mother: Sahira Shah.
Fortunately for her, she had travelled to London that very day and was enjoying the hospitality of The Grosvenor Hotel. She was attending a conference there, and had left early that morning by train. She was completely unaware of the ensuing events; the storm, the huge pile up on the M4 and of course the death of her husband Michael!
"Such irony" thought Hanssen, "a lecture held by a world leading company on the benefits of their latest cutting edge technology for triple heart bypass patients."
Hansson needed to remain calm but needed to act quickly. He walked from the operating room to the lift and pressed the button. Within minutes he was comfortably ensconsed, in his perfectly quiet office. He made a few calls, changed his shirt, and then opened his desk drawer, to reveal a rather fine bottle, of 30 year old, single malt whiskey. He poured the contents into a crystal glass, and held it to his nose. Inhaling, he found the aroma to be a fine mixture of good Scottish smokiness with subtle hints of heather and honey. He leaned back in his chair and allowed the amber liquid to do its magic.
Putting the glass to one side he suddenly turned to face the clock, it was now showing 4.55p.m. He knew from the train timetable, that Sahira would arrive at 6.45p.m. This meant he had less than two hours to prepare. He hadn't contacted her, what was the point? Breaking news like that, needed him to do it face to face. He took another sip of the whiskey and closing his eyes began to rehearse what he would say. . death was never an easy topic and in their world they faced it more than most, however this was different; her pain was his pain and he knew he must use all of his skill as a friend to comfort her. He knew that the words which were to pour out of him needed to be both kind and accurate. For the first time in his life he wasn't looking forward to seeing her.
Sahira sipped her cappuccino, and watched the concrete jungle disappear. Soon she felt more relaxed, and began to unwind. Today had been hectic but full of promise. She opened her briefcase to reveal the literature that she had been given earlier. "This really was ground breaking stuff" she thought excitedly, and wondered what Henrik would make of it; although, sadly these days, he seemed more like an accountant than a top surgeon. "These were difficult times Miss Shah" and "we move in uncertain circles" were only a handful of his well used expressions. She hoped, he would at least take a look at the information, but knew in her heart that it was going to take a considerable amount of her time, and persuasion to convince him.
As the landscape became easier on the eye and the train stations came and went by, she began thinking about her life;having children, had been the most rewarding and wonderful experience of her life. Well that, and working with Henrik Hanssen. At the sudden thought of him, she smiled and wondered if the world had found him anymore agreeable that day.
When the train finally pulled into her station she stood up and began gathering her belongings, before leaving the train, she took down the tan leather briefcase from the luggage rack, and muttering aloud said, "Mustn't forget you."It had been a Christmas present from her son Indie, and meant the world to her.
As she walked along the platform, she observed how wet and cold the day had been. Realising this she instinctively pulled her jacket closer to her body. Advancing towards the exit, she handed in her ticket and proceeded for the car park. What happened next she didn't understand, waiting for her was Henrik?"Hello henrick, are you okay?" "Typical of her to ask if he was okay," he thought. But no, he wasn't okay and was now feeling extremely uncomfortable. He lifted up his head and with some difficulty said, "Sahira I need to speak with you." He was quite pale now, and his eyes looked heavy and tired. "I am so sorry," he continued, "but I have some unfortunate news. Your husband and son were involved in a car accident earlier today, and your husband is dead. Your son is fine and after a routine spleen removal, is no,w in a comfortable and stable condition." He would spare her the full details until they returned to the hospital later.
"Sahira, I, will drive you to the hospital," and with that Hansson took hold of her arm and began guiding her to the passenger seat of his car
Inside the car, Sahira began analysing exactly what Henrik had told her. She just couldn't believe that her husband was dead. Had he suffered? She looked down at her hands and realised they were shaking. There were no tears but she felt very cold and very frightened. Perhaps it was the job she did, but she just couldn't cry. If the truth be known she had been relieved when Hansson had told her that it was Michael dead and not her son. How terrible to think in those terms but it was true; and she hated herself even more for thinking that way. Hansson pulled something out of the glove compartment of his car and passed it to her. "Take this and drink it," he told her. "It will do you some good and help with the shock." Sahira took the small pewter hip flask and began drinking. The whiskey was very strong but it was helping. Hansson drove in silence but as he approached the hospital car park he slowed down and spoke. What he had to say was both concise and reassuring.
"Now listen to me. I shall help you in whatever way I can, I have taken the liberty of asking for an extra bed to be placed in Indie's room and have contacted your mother. I trust this meets with your approval?"
"Thank you Henrik, she said slowly, what would I have done without you?" She placed her head on his shoulder. She had always been the more demonstrative one out of the two and as he gazed down at her he felt something that he dared not consider in a long time...he felt hope. However he must show restraint after all he knew only too well" these were most difficult times and no one for sure really knew what lay ahead."
Again this story could go on and on. Hoped you enjoyed it. Maria x