A New Lease on Life

“And you’ve done enough testing?”

“Oh, ma’am. We’ve done years of testing. I know, it’s scary. But under your circumstances, this is the only way. And think about this; this is our chance to revolutionize the world of medicine. You’d be a pioneer.”

The man was standing at the foot of my hospital bed. His fingers were intertwined, and as the man adjusted his grip, veins and tendons took turns protruding from his pockmarked hands. His long neck was craned forward and his wide smile elicited creases that started at his jowls and carved up his cheeks to the corners of his eyes.

I looked at Dr. Risvi, who was checking the monitor and recording my vitals. “It really is the only way,” she said as she turned to me.

“Oh, I’m just not sure,” I said. Now I looked at my own wrinkled hands. “I mean, I’ve never been too tech-savvy, and now you want me to have a robotic heart?” I let out a weak, unsmiling chuckle.

“Well,” said the man as he cleared his throat, “it’s not a robotic heart, per se. You see, it’s derived from synthetic material, but it functions just like–”

“Listen, Dora,” Dr. Risvi placed her hand on my arm, “you know that the team and I have tried everything. It’s just… your situation is–”

“I know, I know,” I smiled at Dr. Risvi. “I don’t have enough time left, I’m too low on the wait list… oh,” I rubbed my eyes with my palms. The pressure gave me slight relief. The soft, regular beeping from the heart monitor interrupted the silence in the room. I put my hands back on my lap and faced the man. “I’m so sorry, I really was not joking when I said I’m not tech savvy. I’ve forgotten the name of the CEO of Luna.”

“No problem at all.” His smile widened, and the creases on his face deepened. “I’m Parth DeAngelo.”

“Right, of course. Well, Mr. DeAngelo, I wish I had more time to think about this, but time is a commodity that I’ve been lacking of late. Before I accept, though, I have a few questions for you.”

“Of course,” DeAngelo nodded slowly, “I’ll summon one of our scientists, he’ll give you all the information you need. It was lovely meeting you Dora. You’re going to change the world.” He bowed before he turned and shuffled out of the room.

The next few hours were jam-packed. I asked the questions I felt that one should; how does the robotic heart work? What is the maintenance like? How will it feel? To be honest, I only half listened to the scientist’s answers. My mind was already made up. The alternative was death; what choice did I have? All I gathered was that the heart would be functionally identical to a real heart, but it would be composed of microscopic robots that was supposed to replicate the biological functions. I would be able to monitor my vitals on my computer using a device that I would have to keep with me. They showed me what the device looked like; it was a cute little locket, and it was shaped like a heart.

Before I knew it, I was being carted away to the operating room. Once I was in there, all the surgeons were making their preparations. As a gas mask was being placed on my face, I looked out the window in the door to the operating room, and I saw DeAngelo’s face staring back at me, his brow was furrowed, and his smile was gone. My eyelids grew heavy, and I was unconscious.

***

A year after my surgery, the synthetic heart was truly beginning to feel like a part of me. Not only that, but I must say, I would have looked like quite the pro if anyone were to see me using my nifty locket device. Things seemed to be going quite well for Mr. DeAngelo too. My surgery opened the floodgates for research grants and transplant approvals. Before long, I was encountering others with heart-shaped lockets on my morning walks. Once synthetic hearts were the norm, the next logical step, at least for DeAngelo, was synthetic brains. The uproar was as immense as one would imagine. The scientific community, the philosophers, academics, everyone. I mean, of course. How could anyone replace their brain and still be the same person? Nobody knew the repercussions. How would DeAngelo even get authorization for a transplant?

Well, he got that authorization somehow. Nobody knew who gave him the green light. Nobody could even begin to imagine the strings he had to pull to get the first few synthetic brains in human bodies. Nobody knew what this meant for the future.

All I know is that my time has all but run out. A synthetic heart can only take you so far. I take comfort in the knowledge in the fact that I will not see the world that DeAngelo will build.