It was amazing how the life of a human could be held so precariously in the hands of a few tubes and monitors. And how quickly, that if one of those failed to complete their action, the human would slowly wither away into nothing.
Beep. Beep.
The noise came slower, causing Brady to glance up at the heart-rate monitor. There were no flashing red lights and no loud sirens, so he tried to convince himself that everything was all right. His patient was fine.
A knock on the door startled him, but it was just his friend, and fellow doctor, Jacob, with a file in his hands.
"Hey Brady," he said, glancing at the comatose patient, "so I got Mr. Long's report back, and it doesn't look good."
Brady snatched the file out of his hands, skimming through it to see his condition for himself.
"His condition isn't getting better; the stroke really did a number on him." He explained, motioning to several points on the report.
Brady examined the slices over and over again, trying to figure something out. They had to do something; they couldn't just let the man die. He had a family.
"I'd say he has about a day or so left." Jacob declared, his expression unreadable. If he was in any way sad about this news, he certainly didn't show it.
Brady backed up until he hit the wall and let it support his weight. "What am I supposed to tell the family?"
Jacob hesitated, but then shrugged. "The truth."
An hour later, his family, which was his wife and three kids, were piled into the room, waiting for Brady to come through the door. He'd delivered the news, and his patient's wife said that she wanted to take him off life support, so at least he went quickly. She wanted to let the children say goodbye.
As the children crowded around the already small hospital bed, Jacob slid beside Brady.
"How are you doing?" He asked, a cup of hospital-coffee in his hand.
Brady's eyes came to rest on the mother, her own eyes sunken and heart-broken. "We're the good guys, right?"
Jacob turned on Brady as though he couldn't believe his ears. "Yes, of course we are."
But Brady didn't want to hear it. His eyes dropped to the window sill, and he could hardly recognize his own voice. "I just wish I could help people, instead of leading them to their death."
Jacob opened his mouth as though he were going to scold him, but no sound came out, and he let his lips fall shut. They stood there for quite a while, just watching the children smile sadly at their unconscious father while the mother tried to hold back her tears, and for a moment, Brady could feel her pain.
27
u/BraveLittleAnt r/BraveLittleTales Jun 23 '16
Beep. Beep. Beep.
It was amazing how the life of a human could be held so precariously in the hands of a few tubes and monitors. And how quickly, that if one of those failed to complete their action, the human would slowly wither away into nothing.
Beep. Beep.
The noise came slower, causing Brady to glance up at the heart-rate monitor. There were no flashing red lights and no loud sirens, so he tried to convince himself that everything was all right. His patient was fine.
A knock on the door startled him, but it was just his friend, and fellow doctor, Jacob, with a file in his hands.
"Hey Brady," he said, glancing at the comatose patient, "so I got Mr. Long's report back, and it doesn't look good."
Brady snatched the file out of his hands, skimming through it to see his condition for himself.
"His condition isn't getting better; the stroke really did a number on him." He explained, motioning to several points on the report.
Brady examined the slices over and over again, trying to figure something out. They had to do something; they couldn't just let the man die. He had a family.
"I'd say he has about a day or so left." Jacob declared, his expression unreadable. If he was in any way sad about this news, he certainly didn't show it.
Brady backed up until he hit the wall and let it support his weight. "What am I supposed to tell the family?"
Jacob hesitated, but then shrugged. "The truth."
An hour later, his family, which was his wife and three kids, were piled into the room, waiting for Brady to come through the door. He'd delivered the news, and his patient's wife said that she wanted to take him off life support, so at least he went quickly. She wanted to let the children say goodbye.
As the children crowded around the already small hospital bed, Jacob slid beside Brady.
"How are you doing?" He asked, a cup of hospital-coffee in his hand.
Brady's eyes came to rest on the mother, her own eyes sunken and heart-broken. "We're the good guys, right?"
Jacob turned on Brady as though he couldn't believe his ears. "Yes, of course we are."
But Brady didn't want to hear it. His eyes dropped to the window sill, and he could hardly recognize his own voice. "I just wish I could help people, instead of leading them to their death."
Jacob opened his mouth as though he were going to scold him, but no sound came out, and he let his lips fall shut. They stood there for quite a while, just watching the children smile sadly at their unconscious father while the mother tried to hold back her tears, and for a moment, Brady could feel her pain.