More than attraction

Life is a succession of choices. Only one choice can define you. One choice can change you. Only one choice can write your destiny.

If a choice means so much, it's normal to always want to make the right choice.

But you can't always tell which one is right or which one is wrong. When you reach a forked path in life, how do you know which way to go? If you go the wrong way and you can't go back?

If you don't get a second chance? If you are not given a chance to choose?

If we knew the future then we could know what choices to make to avoid unhappiness. Let's avoid tragedy.

But when I made my own choices, I didn't know what the end would be. I didn't know if I was making the right choices or the wrong ones.

And then I always ask myself the question.

If I had known what the end would be, would I have made the same choices? If I've learned anything since I became a doctor, I've learned how precious life is. How much a moment matters. One second that seems insignificant in our lives, well in the crucial moments that second can mean everything. One second less or more can make the difference between life and death.

-One, two, three ... Free!

I press the resuscitation blades on the patient's chest on the stretcher in front of me.

I look up at the pulse monitor. The line is straight.

I massage her heart and send her electric shocks again.

Three times:

-Come on! One! Two! Three! Free!

I wait a few moments and in my mind I repeat the same words as always.

Come on. Come on! You can't die !

And just then his chest lifted and I could hear him breathing deep air into his lungs. My heart starts beating monitored by the device and I feel a wave of relief and pure adrenaline run through my body:

-Let's move it to room 2! She needs a CT scan and let's see if she needs to be sewn. Did he have an accident? I ask because the patient was rushed a few moments ago, and since then I haven't had time to find out more than it was obvious that he was dying.

The nurses around me say nothing. I take the file from the hand of the one who completes it but she doesn't write anything about it yet. This is always the case in emergencies. It takes a while to get things in order.

I look at the patient and try to catch myself so I can figure out the next steps I have to take.

It takes me an extra moment to notice his wrists. Stupidly bandaged with some handy cloths. The blood has already stained them.

I sigh. A suicide bomber. Or, please, a suicide attempt. We have a few similar cases every month. Although suicide attempts, vein cutting is not as common as an overdose or jumping from high places.

Only when the nurses start pushing the bed out of the room and four men, two of them well-dressed, with their phones to their ears and dressed in suits, come to us in a hurry shouting something I don't understand, I realize that the patient in front of me is important person.

It is not as if someone is known or important, he will be offered a better treatment, by far. I treat all my patients the same. When you have someone injured on the table, it doesn't matter who they are. It's important to save him. And I'm trying to save this man's life right now.

The hospital's protocol says that no one but doctors is allowed to enter the ward with the patient, so men must stay at the door whether they want to or not, but of course no one can stop them because a small nurse a meter and a half does not can cope with them.

I only understand a few words from what he says:

-Sir, you have to get out of here!

-The boss ... the Lord ... must ...

-Sir, you're not allowed here! I promise I'll do everything I can to help your boss, but you have to get out of here now, or I'm going to have to call security!

I untie the patient's wrists and hear the other man take a deep breath and finally let himself be led outside.

I'm glad the cuts aren't very deep and are made so that something more can be done.

-Okay, this man got a second chance at life so let's not waste it!

A nurse gives him a painkiller, I put on my gloves and mask and get to work.

***

I'm leaving the hospital only in the evening. My shift lasted 18 hours so I'm exhausted. I almost lie on a bench and fall asleep on the way home. I have an apartment just a few blocks from the hospital so I can get there quickly in case of an emergency.

I wanted to be a doctor when I was 7 years old. My best friend, Sam, fell from the tree and the bone pierced his muscle. I was right there next to him, and compared to other 7-year-olds who would have seen that picture and been terrified, I was just curious.

I was curious about how the bone managed to get through the muscles, tissues and skin. I called for help and I wanted to go to the hospital with him, but they wouldn't let me. However, from that moment on, I knew I wanted to be a doctor.

So I fought for my dream and now, at the age of 27, I am finally an official trauma surgeon. I love my job. The satisfaction you feel when you save someone's life doesn't compare to anything. But neither does the pain and frustration you feel when you lose a patient.

Life comes with good parts and bad parts. You choose which side means more to you. The next day when I get to the hospital, I find it full of paparazzi. Cameras and microphones, the guards try to persuade them to leave and not let them into the hospital. I slip through the photographers and enter the hospital.

I meet in the locker room with Malia, the cardiologist:

-Hey!

-Did you see the madness outside?

-Yes.

-What will happen to them?

-I think it's related to the patient with last night's cut veins. He was accompanied by four bodyguards.

Malia raised her eyebrows:

-Another celebrity making waves. God, I don't understand! How to have fame, money, travel, practically do whatever you want and try to commit suicide?

I shrug. I don't understand either. How can one take one's life when life is so precious?

-I have no idea. Anyway, I have to go see him today.

-Eh, maybe find out who he is.

I nod. Patient privacy is very important. We can't give information about our patients to other people, but we can talk to each other.

I change into a red uniform and take off my white robe, with my name on it, and leave the locker room.

The first thing I have to do in the morning is visit. I have to go and see what the patients I've been hospitalizing for the past few days are doing. Today I scheduled two surgeries but only after noon. Until then, I only have visits. I start with the oldest patients, the ones who have been here for a few days and start with Mrs. Syle, an 83-year-old woman who has been here for some time. He is suffering from heart disease and has been waiting for a heart transplant for a long time. I operated on her liver and that's why she's my patient, but when an available heart comes up, Malia will take it over:

-Good morning, Mrs. Syle!

-Christine! How many times have I told you not to tell me that! It makes me look old!

I smile:

-I apologize, Karina, it's out of the ordinary.

-Well, get out of hand, my dear, or I'll throw you with the pudding from the hospital canteen. This thing is so loud that you could have a contusion if you hit your head!

I start laughing and Karina raises her arms to listen to her heart:

-Sounds good.

-Does that mean it doesn't sound worse? Come on, honey, I know my heart is over! I don't understand why I have to stay here and wait for a new one. If a heart is better, give it to someone who has a life ahead of them.

-You have a life ahead of you, Karina.

-What dear life? I lived 84 years longer than if I had lived up to 200 years. The next life, to stay in bed and not be able to see myself in the mirror or shake my hands until I will not be able to eat alone, that is not life, dear! Enjoy your youth. That's the best time!

I smile at Karina, fill out her form and walk out of her living room. I'll move on to the next one.

I visit 13 wards until I reach my newest patient. The man accompanied by bodyguards from last night

There are two bodyguards in front of the door. He lets me in only after he checks me in. I'm irritated by this, but they apologize and say it's possible for someone to pretend to be a doctor to come in.

Its salon is arranged as comfortably as possible, it is one of the private salons. He has the blinds drawn so the light that enters the window falls directly on the bed. I approach and pass all the data from the monitor to his file. I check her bandages and replace them with new ones.

The patient is still partially unconscious and has an oxygen mask. He's on sedatives, so he's going to sleep for a while.

I finish my visits and return to the emergency room where Scott, the other trauma doctor, treats the patients. I take the first case that falls into my hands, and I take care of the patient.

***

After work I don't go home to sleep, instead I go for a drink at the bar where my cousin, Adam, works. Adam and I are not blood relatives, my father is his mother's brother, and his mother's brother and husband adopted me when I was only six months old and have been part of the family ever since.

I owe everything to my adoptive parents. They gave me a second chance, took me to their house and took care of me. They loved me and always supported me. And the fact that we had the wonderful Gray family, Camryn, Braden and their two children, Adam and Tristan, well, that was a bonus.

The bar is only half full when I enter. At the bar is that pretty blonde, Rose, who I think totally enchanted Adam. I've never seen him behave like that with a woman. He's the kind who changes them like socks, but this Rose seems to have something different.

He smiles at me as he approaches and hands me tequila. It only takes a few moments for Adam to show up:

-Christine!

-Hey, Adam!

-How many corpses did you chop today?

I look at him ugly and start laughing:

-Ha, ha! Very funny.

I lived with Adam for a long time, when I was still practicing and sometimes we had to cut corpses and Adam used to make fun of me on this subject:

-Have you seen Tristan and Jade before? he asks me

. I nod.

-Jade went to a consultation last week.

-How is it?

-Good. It's very good.

Adam nods and looks relieved. Jade, his brother's girlfriend, somehow became his best friend, and Adam was utterly devastated when Jade nearly died a few months ago of heart disease. But he received a transplant and survived and is now recovering very well.

I look at my watch.

"I have to go." Tomorrow I have a shift from 6 in the morning!

I want to pay but Adam gives me the money back:

-Buy something nice from them.

I smile:

-Thank you!

-With pleasure, mouse!

I roll my eyes when I hear the nickname Adam gave me when I was a kid because I was a little kid:

-Don't call me a mouse anymore, I've grown up now!

-You have a meter sixty and I have a ninety one, for me, you are still small.

He shakes his head and Adam grins.

"See you!"

-I'm chopping corpses! he yells at me as I walk out the bar door and I roll my eyes.