28. NICK
“Yes, it’s urgent, please,” I spoke in hushed tones over the phone. “We need the best specialists available.”
I paced the sterile hospital corridor with intense urgency, oblivious to the hustle and bustle happening around me. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead placed shadows on my face, but I hardly noticed them. I was doing my best to maintain my composure, but I was well aware that every second counted; I just couldn’t help but worry.
My phone, a lifeline in this critical moment, remained pressed to my ear as I navigated through a web of connections with a focus as sharp as a surgeon’s scalpel.
“Come on, Catherine, I need you to pull every available resource!” I told my assistant in a raised, tense voice.
“Dr. Jimenez is currently out of the country and cannot be reached right now. Have you tried Dr. Rodriguez? She is also a well-recommended specialist.”
“No…”
“Ok, I will try if I can connect her.”
“Yes…Do it now. Reach out to Dr. Rodriguez…”
The call ended, and I returned to furiously typing messages to contacts who could assist in the situation.
Suddenly, the phone vibrated again. “Catherine,” I said as soon as I accepted the call. I listened to her explain what had happened with the task I’d given her. “I don’t care what it takes; just get her on board.”
“Yes, sir.”
I gave out a loud sigh of frustration, clutching the phone in my hand and feeling a migraine starting.
Just then, I felt a hand on my shoulder. When I turned around, I came face to face with Tanya. She had a crease on her forehead. “Any updates?”
“I’m doing my best,” was my terse answer.
Another call came. It was my other assistant who informed me that the Swedish expert he’d tried to contact was unreachable at the moment.
“Listen to me,” I said in a firm, but desperate tone. “I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. Wake him up. We need Dr. Andersson’s expertise. Pay him double if you need to. Izzy’s life is at stake.”
Tanya gave me an apprehensive look. “Perhaps you need to rest first…” she began to say.
“There’s no time!” I cut her off. I was instantly sorry about snapping at her, but it didn’t feel that important at the moment. I honestly didn’t care if she got offended. What mattered was for Izzy to get well as soon as possible.
I could hear a ticking clock in my head, every passing second an unpredictable variable in Izzy’s recovery.
Abruptly, a series of shrill alarms pierced the air, causing my heart to lurch in my chest. The urgent, alarming beeps echoed from Izzy’s room. My phone slipped from my hand, forgotten, as a cold wave of panic washed over me. Without a second thought, I bolted toward the source of the distress, Tanya at my heels.
I pushed through the door, and the scene inside froze me in my tracks. Izzy lay on the hospital bed, her face pale, the strain evident in her labored breathing. The monitors surrounding her emitted a cacophony of warning signals. Her mother sat beside her, tears streaming down her face, fear and desperation etched on her features.
“What”s happening?” I demanded, my heart racing with terror.
“The oxygen levels are dropping rapidly, and her heart rate is spiking. We don’t know why,” a nurse explained, her face reflecting the gravity of the situation.
I felt a chill crawl down my spine as I approached the bed, helplessness clawing at my chest. “We need to stabilize her,” the doctor urged.
Tanya’s grip on my arm tightened, her eyes mirroring my fear. “Nick, we have to trust the medical team. They’ll do everything they can.”
A harsh realization hit me—the depth of my powerlessness in the face of Izzy’s deteriorating condition. The room seemed to close in on me as the medical professionals rushed to intervene, their movements a frenetic dance against time.
No, no, no. This is not happening. I can’t lose you, Izzy. Not now.
With bated breath, I watched as they worked tirelessly, their expertise the thin thread between Izzy and the impending danger. The beeping of the monitors became an ominous soundtrack, each sound an agonizing reminder of Izzy’s precarious state.
“Izzy,” I whispered, my voice choked with unspoken fears. “Hold on, please.”
In that moment, I felt guilt and anger crashing down on my shoulders. If I hadn’t left the launch, she would be fine. I would have been there to protect her. She wouldn’t have gone to the dressing room all by herself.
The thoughts came fast, one after the other, burying me in tremendous guilt and remorse. It’s my fault that she got trapped there. She is suffering now because of me.
Now, after years of being in charge and in control, not showing much emotion in the face of adversities, I found myself feeling powerless and in despair. I almost couldn’t bear seeing her slowly slipping away in front of me.
And for the first time since I was a little boy, I prayed again. Please, God, help her. If you let her live, I promise to take care of her forever.