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by Scott Normandin
"Alex?"
he heard the voice call to him.
Alex opened
his eyes to see the doctor sitting on the
bed beside him. The doctor looked as sullen
and serious as the nurse that had been in
before did, but he felt more comfort in
the doctor's presence. The doctor's obvious
age and experience came through with a sure
and confident voice that put him a little
more at ease.
Alex forced
a little humor. "Give it to me straight,
doc. How much time do I have left?"
The doctor
did not seem amused. He lowered his brow
and concern swept over his face. "Alex,
I am going to be straight with you. We are
not sure exactly what it is that you have.
We have turthfully never seen anything like
this before. To be quite honest, we never
expected you to regain consciousness."
Terror
swept through Alex as he lay there. He began
to tremble.
The doctor
stood up and walked toward the window, peering
out at the lights of the city night. A light
fog enveloped the city creating an aura
around each light. The doctor was unsure
how to proceed.
Alex just
had to know how bad it was. "Doctor,
amd I going to die? Am I dying? Just tell
me the truth about what I have. What's happening
to me?"
The doctor
turned toward his bed and looked Alex in
the eyes. Time had come to tell the truth.
"Alex,
you showed up here this morning a real mess.
Some city workers found you in a service
alley very early this morning. You were
unconscious. Do you remember being there
before you passed out Alex?"
"Yes,"
Alex answered. He had no more words. He
braced himself for what was to come.
"You
were unresponsive when you arrived. Your
pupils were fixed and dilated. Your body
temperature was seventy-eight degrees, Alex.
You were no longer breathing, and all your
joints were stiff."
Alex laughed,
"That would make me dead, doctor."
"That
would be a neat trick, Alex, wouldn't it?
Normally, we would have pronouced you dead,
put a tag on your toe and put you in the
cooler. However, the city workers who found
you and brought you in swore you still had
a heartbeat, and we checked it. They were
right. Your heart is still beating. We figured
it for some freak of nature, so just for
giggles and grins we checked for any brain
activity, and your brain was still working
too."
Alex relaxed,
"Good to know I'm still alive, doc.
Sounds like I had a close one."
"No,
Alex," the doctor maintained, "there's
more. We ran a lot of tests. None of us
had ever seen anything like this before.
Your cells in your body are still viable,
but we don't know how. None of your organs
are functioning so your blood is being deprived
of oxygen and nutrients it needs to feed
your body's cells, so the cells are slowly
dying. For some reason, this has no effect
on your brain pattern at all. It does, however,
have an effect on your heartbeat. As the
oxygen and nutrients in your body are becoming
more and more depleted, the weaker your
heart is becoming. Soon it will stop."
Alex croaked,
"How long do I have?"
"I
don't know. We've been monitoring you, Alex.
As your heartbeat slows and your blood pressure
becomes weaker, you brain's activity never
seems to slow. I have no idea what is keeping
it going."
Alex search
his mind for answers. "So do you hook
me up to a machine or something for my blood?
Do I go on dialysis or something? Do I need
a transfusion or what?" The reality
of his fate was becoming more solid in his
mind. This was no food poisoning or rare
jungle virus, he was dying. For the most
part he seemed to be already dead.
"There
is no machine that does what you need, to
replace oxygen and everything else carried
by your bloodstream and then put it back
inside you is medically impossible. In essence,
you need a transplant of every organ."
Alex put
his hands on his face, "Oh, dear God.
I was fine until I left the restaurant."
"What
restaurant is that, Alex?"
Alex thought
for a moment, "I don't know the name.
I passed by it once and thought I would
go in. The sign was written in Chinese I
think. It had no English translation. It
was just a block or so from where I was
found."
Suddenly
without warning Alex convulsed as shockwaves
of sharp severe pain shot through his body.
He uncontrollably started to yell out a
blood-curdling scream as his muscles bound
up to brace for more. He grabbed at the
siderails of the hospital bed and arched
his back up as the pain was making his body
jerk uncontrollably. He could feel his brain
pounding out brutal signals to the rest
of his body to react to an unseen foe, making
him lash his arms out to an absent adversery.
Then, as quickly as it started, it subsided
and Alex relaxed his back and eased back
down onto his mattress.
The doctor
looked at Alex with a form of pity. He felt
helpless to help the man who suddenly appeared
in his hospital without a single clue on
how to save him. His medical training never
explained this. The twenty-five years in
practice he had never seen anything close
to it, and his medical journals never uttered
a single word.
"The
convulsions get more severe as you heart
slows," explained the doctor. I think
it's a reaction to your starving blood."
Alex had
the need to act. He was dying with each
passing moment.
He rose
from the bed, removing the mass of connected
electrodes, sensors and IV tubes. The doctor
raised an eyebrow. "It would not be
wise for you to leave here, Alex, you need
help."
Alex reached
for his clothes and said to the doctor,
"You said yourself you can't help me,
so I am going to do what I can to help myself."
He started dressing and thought to himself
out loud, "I guess I can start where
it all began, that restaurant downtown.
It was out of the way but not impossible
to find, I am sure someone might be able
to give me a clue there."
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