People like that are the only people here
vrmain1986
the other room. How can any day be the just another day for him? He would mule over the question on
his ride home from time to time. Sitting in his car listening to the virtues of life, while he drank from a
thermos given to him by his wife and daughter just a few fathers day’s ago. This ride home was always a
bitter sweet moment for him. It was truly the only time he could think; the only time he could think
about anything. His life was far different then most surgeon’s life. While other surgeon worked on those
who lived seemingly full lives, he worked on those that lived blissfully in ignorance, yet ever curious
about everything. He loved that about children.
The surgeon never had to think about the path of his medical career; he just always knew,
where ever he went, it would concern children. How could it not? Children are just helpless little
creatures, ignorant to the situation called life, and rightfully so. It was not particularly easy for him to
see young sick children, even if it was something as a simple cold. But to the surgeon no ailment was
simple. To him, a cold lead to a fever and fever lead to a night in the hospital, and a night in the hospital
lead to the oncologist being called in to explain the situation to the parents. He has seen it all too many
times. To the Surgeon, nothing about being sick was simple, even if he had to pitch the situation as
“just a simple procedure”.
***
It was Halloween evening at the hospital when he was called in to cover a shift. As a head Surgeon he
would never had to cover a shift, but he liked this time of the year. To the Surgeon, it was the
only time people were people and not just patients. It was around this time, every year, everything
made since. The little children dressed in their customs; the volunteers shamlessly entertaining the
children; the parents, who for just a few moments, forgetting about the “possibility”. It
always filled his heart with light to see parents planning for next year no matter the prognosis. He
needed these days at the hospital, more then the children needed him.
He was sitting quietly in the background of the hospitals activities center where the annual Halloween
party was taking place. He has seen this event probably ten times now. The first time he watch this
festival, he found him self locked in his office sobbing. It was too much for him then. What were once
just little sheets of paper on a clipboard, where now little people on the brink of existence. Soon after
that realization, he found him self renting a space one a couch a couple hours a week. But it was not his
mental state in turmoil, it was his spirit. Early in his career he came to terms with the idea of death. It
was life that he could not come to terms with. As inevitable death is, life is just as inevitable and the
Surgeon could not rap his mind around the concept of life. His time spent on the couch was well wasted.
The therapist was not qualified to answer his questions. No one was qualified to answer his questions.
Later that year he found him self in the surgery room almost every chance he could get. Even in
rooms he was not qualified to be in. He seen almost every surgery imaginable, amputations, open heart,
sexual assignments, but his favorite surgery was exploration. He once described exploration surgery as
“searching for the core of life.” The Surgeon figured, if no one had the answers he looking for, he
was going to find them his self. He was relentless in his search. With laser precision hands and eagle
eyes, he searched the inner regions of his patients, hoping to find something, anything that would
answer his question. No matter the out come of a surgery, the Surgeon would say, “The mysteries of the
body of man are far to great for me to understand.” and then give a hearty chuckle and continue on
with his life. With in that year he grew more and more dethatched from the patients and grew, and
grew more and more fixated on the search for his question. It would not be until around that time the
next year when he would find an answer.
He received a chart about a five day old little girl that was born with her heart on the
wrong side of her body. When he spoke with the parents to inform them about the situation, he left no
stone unturned. He prepared them for the worst and explained that he would do all in his power to help.
The parents were not so reassured and quickly began to turn on him while simultaneously begging him
to save their little girls life. He offered them the best he could do.
It was common practice for the Surgeon to speak with the parents one last time before the
surgery to answer any last questions. He had grown accustomed to see distraught families, whose faces
were wrought with worries; whose eyes were like half moons with not sun light to reveal there
existence. Usually he would come out from behind the pillar he would hide behind and do all he could to
comfort them. But this time was different. The mother and father were sitting silently close to
each other, the father gripping the mothers hands while he cried proudly on her shoulder. The look on
the mothers face was with out emotions as she stared through the fish tank in the middle of the room.
The Surgeon looked at parents and in his minds eye a slide show of early Edvard Munch paintings.
He did not come from behind the pillar in which he hid.
Nothing about this scene was different from any time before thought the Surgeon. Yet it was
completely different. Nothing about anything was the same he thought. Nothing was simple as he had
made it so before. Nothing was simple in life thought the Surgeon. There was nothing he
could say to them now that could place them in a state of simplicity as he has placed him self in
time and time again. Worse over, there was nothing he could say to him self to simplify the situation.
He turned and prepared for surgery.
***
Ten hours passed by, but to the Surgeon it felt more like ten years. At times during the surgery
the Surgeon would see images of the parents painted in abstract, as if Munch himself had created an art
studio in his head. If it were not for the casual conversation between the surgeons, he might have
completely lost focus. Yet in the eight hour of the surgery, all was well with the little child. Once the
state of the child registered to everyone in the operating room, they preformed an exploration and
finished the Surgery. The Surgeon came up empty handed again. Near the final procedures of the
operation, the head pediatrician came into the operating room on behalf of the parents to check the
status of the little girl. She was presented with an update and quickly left to inform the parents of the
good news.
After the Surgery was complete, the Surgeon worked up the courage to speak with the parents.
He washed up, called his wife and informed her of the successful surgery and went on the hunt for the
elevated parents. The young child was transferred to the ICU. He found the parents next to the child’s
bed side. They stood there quiet and washing the make up of distraught off their faces with tears of joy.
He tapped on the glass to grab the attention of the parents, who dressed in full surgical gear. They
signaled for him to join them at the bed side. The Surgeon suited back up and joined the parents.
“How is the little lady doing?” asked the Surgeon.
“It’s been six days now my little girl still looks blue.” said the Mother.
“That will go away soon enough. She’s been through a lot; let’s just thank our lucky stars she will live to
hear the tale” said the Surgeon.
“Amen to that” Said the Father.
“I noticed on her chart the she was unnamed, have you all decided on one yet?” asked the Surgeon.
“Well when we found out we were having a child, we started working one names right away, but,” the
mother face returned to post surgery, “Around the seventh month we were informed that she might
have some complications with the heart” said the mother.
“Honey, it’s over now! We should get started on some names. I was thinking of something relating to
blue” said the Father.
“Something blue huh?” replied the Surgeon.
The room grew quiet.
“Well the reason I came here was to let you know that, even though the Surgery was a success, she will
have to remain in the hospital for a while.” said the Surgeon.
“yeah we were told that by the pediatrician but she did not specify a time” said the father.
“Well... We are not sure our selves to be honest with you. This sort of condition is not exactly common,
but if I had to guess, I would say about six month’s tops” said the Surgeon.
The Mother and Father both let out a sigh of relief.
“We thought she would have to say in for at least a year.” said the Mother.
“During the surgery we started looking up information on the known cases and learned, that one child
five years ago, spent a year in an a half in the hospital.” said the Father.
“Well… while we are hopeful for a speedy recovery, she is a new born baby. She has a lot of to learn
kinetically…” the Surgeon stopped himself.
“We know” said the Father.
They all knew.
“Well if there any more questions…” said the Surgeon. He then reached out his hand and shook both the
Mother’s and Father’s hand and left them with his contact information. When the Surgeon returned to
his office, he sat down in the chair closed his eyes and let the museum of abstract images of the
distraught ones move freely through out his thoughts and said to him self, “ maybe my heart is in the
wrong place too…”
***
A year had past since the surgery and the Sergeon had not come any closer to the a discovery of
“The Core of Life”. If that was not bad enough, the young child had not been removed from the hospital
since the operation and the parents were all to but a fixture of the hospital. Every day, the Surgeon was
subjected to the abstract paintings of the Munch family. His therapy sessions grew more frequent during
the Munch’s stay at the hospital. The Surgeon did all in his power to avoid them, but it always seemed
he would find him self running into Mr. or Mrs. Munch in the halls for one reason or another. He began
to think they were haunting him. So much that he took he even petitioned to have them removed to a
different hospital for the remainder of the child’s recovery. He cursed the Prestige of his hospital many
of times a day.
***