41. The Poetry Of Reperfusion
forty-one
The Poetry Of Reperfusion
Second Presbyterian Hospital.
Tissue match: check.
Blood match: check.
Intubate. IV. Oxygen.
Scalpel.
Sternum broken open.
Rib cage cracks.
Heart-lung machine.
Blood diverted.
Clamp.
Major vessels: stop.
Cut.
The damaged heart is removed.
“The donor,” a shaky breath echoes. A different choice is made. “Mr. Gavros requested that Daphne’s heart be placed inside his chest. See to it that his wishes are carried out.”
A cold heart passes over another, meeting only for a moment when gloves reach into the metal basin.
The new heart is placed into the cavern with steady hands.
It is different.
New.
But familiar to her.
Left atrium: connected.
Right atrium: connected.
Pulmonary artery: connected.
Aorta: connected.
Threads slide in. Threads slide out. Absolute precision.
“Prepare for cross-clamp removal.”
The room stills as the clamp is released.
A breath.
A shiver.
God watched from above.
Reperfusion.
Blood rushes into the new heart.
Pink floods the tissue, warming it back to life.
Then…
Beat.
Beat.
Beat.