Will My Brother Be Okay With My Decision?
"The doctor will be out of surgery soon; just stay here for a few minutes," the nurse said gently before stepping out of the room to attend to other patients.
Kaelynnee stood frozen in the sterile, white room, her eyes locked onto her brother, who lay motionless in the hospital bed before her. It had been years since the tragic accident—a black car that had struck him with brutal force before speeding away, leaving devastation in its wake. The memory of that night plagued her thoughts; the haunting shadow of how she had failed to identify the vehicle or the faces within it weighed heavily on her heart, shattering their family in unimaginable ways.
She slowly approached the end of his bed, the familiar scent of antiseptic stinging her nostrils as she leaned over to glance at the chart pinned to the side. Her fingers trembled slightly as she checked his vitals—monitoring the rhythm of the machines that neither showed signs of distress nor improvement. His condition remained frustratingly unchanged, as stagnant as the quiet air surrounding them. Despair clawed at her insides, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the life that had once been full of laughter and joy, now swallowed by the abyss of a silent, unresponsive existence.
"What gives? My brother seems fine! Why would they call if it's not important? They nearly gave me a heart attack. Maybe it's just more paperwork,"She let out a soft sigh, a sound heavy with worry and uncertainty. In the quiet recesses of her mind, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was something unusual about the nurse's urgent phone call, summoning her to the hospital on this restless night. However, she brushed the thought aside, setting her focus on the present moment.
With a heavy heart, she made her way to a nearby chair, its metal frame cool and uninviting, but it provided a momentary respite. As she lowered herself into the seat, her gaze fell upon her brother, who lay so still in the stark white hospital bed. The rhythmic hum of the ventilator filled the silence, a reminder of the fragile life it supported.
Her eyes, brimming with unshed tears, wandered over his pale face, where shadows danced beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. She pressed her lips together, a futile attempt to stifle the wave of sadness threatening to overwhelm her. With her hands clenched tightly in her lap, she fought to mask her grief, drawing in deep breaths as she tried to summon the strength she needed to endure this heart-wrenching waiting game.
I need to be strong for you, Hideaki.
The sound of the hospital door gliding open echoed in the sterile corridor, pulling her attention away from her anxious thoughts. She turned to see a tall man clad in a white coat, his expression grave as he clutched a clipboard tightly against his chest. "Are you Miss Anderson?" he inquired, his voice steady but tinged with concern.
"Yes!" she replied eagerly, hope flickering in her eyes as she stepped closer to him. "Please tell me it's nothing serious and that my brother will be fine."
The doctor took a measured breath, his gaze drifting momentarily to the floor as if bracing himself. "Miss Anderson, I regret to inform you that your brother has suffered severe brain damage and significant swelling of the skull due to the car accident. This is why we have delayed surgery until now. However, we need your consent to proceed with emergency surgery immediately. We must remove the clotted blood to minimize further damage to his brain tissue."
Panic welled within her, but she forced herself to focus on his words. "There is a 37 percent success rate," he continued, his voice growing somber. "I must also make you aware of the potential risks. There could be complications related to speech, memory, muscle weakness, balance, vision, and coordination. If the blood clot and bleeding return, his condition could deteriorate further, leading to seizures, stroke, or even death."
Her heart sank as she bit her bottom lip, the weight of his words crushing her hopes. The reality of the situation was unbearable, and she could feel the pressure of her brother's life resting heavily on her shoulders. In that moment, she felt utterly lost, the gravity of the decision before her leaving her speechless and vulnerable.
"I've had numerous discussions with your parents," the doctor began, his tone somber and measured. "Each time, they expressed their deep concerns and hesitations. They kept postponing the date, grappling with the financial strain and emotional turmoil it placed upon them. I regret to inform you, but they ultimately felt it was best for the patient to find peace in the most natural way possible."
I don't want to believe that! My parents can't be these horrible person...They are not this shallow or selfish. This man is wrong about them, every lie that coming out of his mouth is to paint a horrible painting of them....
Her hand trembled as she grasped the pen, its glossy surface reflecting the harsh overhead lights as she carefully scrawled her signature above each line. A maelstrom of thoughts swirled in her mind, uncertainty gnawing at her insides. Was this the right choice? Her heart, however, was resolute; if this surgery held the promise of healing her brother, she would do anything for him to return to her, whole and well.
As she watched the nurses and doctors gently wheel him away, a surge of panic coursed through her. She bolted down the sterile hallway, her feet pounding against the cool, polished floor, until she reached the threshold of the operating room. The heavy doors swung shut before her, casting a barrier between her and her brother. Desperate, she stood frozen, her gaze locked onto the bright, sterile lights that illuminated the room beyond, emblazoned with the ominous words: "In Progress."
Suddenly, her phone buzzed incessantly in her pocket, a relentless reminder of the world outside this moment. She tried to dismiss it, ignoring the urgent vibrations time and again. Just as she attempted to silence it, her finger slipped, inadvertently answering the call.
"You know how dangerous it is to cross the street like that, right? Stupid!" The voice on the other end was sharp and furious, ready to unleash a torrent of anger. But before he could continue, she interrupted him, her voice quavering, laden with distress.
"I-I'm sorry, I hope you can forgive me," she murmured, her tone weak and laced with a slight whimper that set off alarm bells in the stranger's mind. "I'm sleepy and my phone is dying, so I'm hanging up now." With that, she hung up abruptly and powered off her device, severing the connection to the outside world in a moment of overwhelming emotion.