by R. J. Blain
My life had gotten stranger. “Honestly, this freaks me out a little more than having a thirty million dollar foot. I mean, I’m not freaking out, but it’s disconcerting.” I sighed. “It wasn’t my fault, but I feel guilty all the same.”
“Don’t, Janette,” Bradley ordered. “Yes, we all were upset you were gone, but nobody really thought you were to blame. We were upset you went and had dinner with a politician. Politicians are dangerous creatures, and we need to approach them using the safety of numbers to our advantage. Nobody is upset you took your job working at the library seriously, and he wanted to talk to you about his donations. There were plenty of witnesses who verified you were at the restaurant discussing the library. And some even got some pictures and recordings. Personally, you couldn’t have behaved more like a librarian out for that man’s wallet if you tried. And you skillfully took him for a great deal of money. I’m proud of you, suckering a senator into having a conscience and donating to your library.”
I preened at the praise. “I did do a good job, didn’t I?”
“You did great. We were cranky you put us to shame in the ethics department, though. After you went to the memorial service, we realized we’d made a mistake,” my fiancé admitted. “But we didn’t get a chance to apologize before you disappeared. And if we hadn’t been dicks to you about it, you might have taken us with you.”
“I may have taken you with me, and then you would have been kidnapped, too.”
Mr. Hampton cleared his throat. “I’m very grateful that you were not kidnapped, Bradley. I probably would have had a heart attack if you were. It was bad enough seeing my baby boy passed out on my yard.”
“Shortness of breath?” I asked.
“Yes, and I saw a doctor about it afterwards. That’s how I know it will be terminal without some extensive treatment. I’ve been undergoing conventional treatments, but in my stage? It takes a lot of magic. In reality, I’m old, and I didn’t treat my heart well early in my life. I’m paying for that now.”
I drummed my fingers on the wheel, focusing my attention on the twisting, turning roads, and when I was confident of my handling of the vehicle and the upcoming stretch, I said, “All right. I can accept that. I should have also done the work right away, and I didn’t.”
“You’d been shot, you were in extreme pain, and you’d tapped your magic out. It’s better you hadn’t. It’ll probably take you longer than you like to fix. My doctors have a betting pool started up on how long it’ll take you.”
“How much did you bet?”
Mr. Hampton laughed. “Why do you think I bet anything?”
“Because I’ve known you for years. You would totally make some horrible bet, and because you know me, you’d probably make it a good one—and expensive. You’d make it expensive.”
“All right. I may have placed a bet.”
“What did you bet and for how much?”
“Five hours, and one hour of it would be you screaming at me roughly three hours into the procedure.”
I twitched, as after three hours of carefully peeling away plaque using blood, I would be fit to murder somebody. “If I have at least three hours of work fixing that mess, you better believe I’ll be screaming over it for about an hour.”
“Please tell me it’s not that bad, Dad.”
I winced, but as I didn’t want to lie to my fiancé, I replied, “It’s that bad, Bradley. There’s a reason he’s up front with me, and it’s not because he’s afraid I’ll lose control of the SUV. It’s because he knows if he’s in the backseat and has a heart attack, I’ll crash trying to save him. Where he’s at, I can work and safely stop the vehicle.” I sighed. “I’m now in bodyguard mode. This is a fact. When the real bodyguard shows up, I’m going to cry on his shoulder. He’ll understand.”
“You can be in bodyguard mode when you’re making sure my dad keeps breathing. I really don’t mind. I won’t even be upset you’re crying on Ren, mainly because Ren had a similar reaction when we both got knocked out. Except he melted down with my mom. But I’m the only one who gets highly irritated wife mode.”
Poor Ren. Maybe we could take a few hours and share war stories. I’d cried the first time Bradley had been in serious trouble, too, although I’d done my crying alone. While strained, I laughed. “Sure, Bradley. That mode is just for you. One man is almost more than I can handle. What would I do with two? Beyond go crazy.”
“You’d definitely go crazy.”
“Your father’s as fine as he’ll be for a few hours, and I didn’t sense any heart attacks or base distress in progress, and he doesn’t have any clots. Heart attacks are usually a long-term affair. They can go on for over twelve hours. It’s the catastrophic and sudden ones that are an issue, and all I have to do to start treatment is touch him. After I pulled over, I’d move him to the back, you’d take over driving, and we’d haul him to Dr. Castor’s place. I’d fix the problem, and he’d be on bed rest for a few days while his blood pressure headed back to normal, because I’d be removing a lot of volume from his arteries. He may need a transfusion.”
“How likely is it he’ll need a transfusion?”
“It depends on how much I remove from his arteries. How has your blood pressure been, Mr. Hampton?”
“It’s been fine.”
I grimaced. “It’s going to be low once I’m done with you, and that’s a problem. I’ll consult with Dr. Castor. It could just be because it’s been building up over a long period of time, and once you have more real estate for blood, your body will resume producing more. If not, there are ways to fix that.”
“She’s in nurse mode and bodyguard mode, Dad. Do not argue with her. She’ll pull this vehicle over. I’ve learned when women make that threat, they really mean it.”
I recognized Bradley meant to keep the mood in the vehicle light and playful, something I agreed with. “If your dad wasn’t in the vehicle, I’d be interested in pulling over for other reasons.”
“That backfired in an unexpected fashion.”
“As I want grandchildren, I support your plan to pull off a secluded stretch of road for whatever indulgences you may wish,” his father said.
I rolled my eyes. “Have you already picked their names?”
“I support any name that’s not Bradley. There are already too many Bradleys. I sacrificed my name to spare Bradley from the insanity.”
“Why did you name him Bradley, then?”
“I promised my father I would, for I was young and stupid.”
“And he’s a Bradley?”
“He’s a Bradley. I am a former Bradley. Bradley is, well, Bradley. I changed my name before he was born so he didn’t have a ridiculous number attached to his name. I’m only using Paul right now because it will appease your mother. I promised two weeks of that for not telling her you were safe immediately. Please do not name any of your sons Bradley.”
“I appreciate that, Dad. I really do.”
“You’re welcome.”
We made it to Dr. Castor’s home without incident, but my nerves were so shot by the time we arrived I grabbed Mr. Hampton by his ear, twisted, and dragged him to the front door, scolding him every step of the way. Once on the doorstep, I rang the bell, shooting glares at my future father-in-law. “You are something else, Mr. Hampton.”
“Can you let go of my ear now?”
“No.”
Bradley’s father sighed. “It hurts.”
“Maybe if you weren’t trying to scare me to death, your ear wouldn’t be hurting right now.” I took a small measure of pity on him, adjusting how I held onto him. “I’m calling Mrs. Hampton to find out if there are copies of your medical file, and if it doesn’t show improvement from when you started treatments, you’re going to pay for this for a long time.”
The door opened, and an older woman wearing a white sundress raised a brow at us. “May I help you?”
“Are you Dr. Castor?” I asked.
“I am,” she replied.
“Hi
. I’m Janette. I need a scalpel, a cup, antiseptics, and anything like that, and a place to put this idiot so I can fix his goddamned heart before he falls over dead on me.” I drew in a breath. “Please and thank you.”
“Is this how you usually introduce yourself?” the woman asked with amusement, although she stepped aside and opened the door wider. “Do come in. It’s not every day an angry young woman brings an older man to my door with cardiac arrest concerns.”
“I figured you had a kitchen, and it was an okay assumption for the first aid kit stuff,” I replied, tugging on Mr. Hampton’s ear until he followed. “That plus he called you about it. The younger one is my fiancé, and this is his father, and if his father has a heart attack, I’m having a heart attack. I’m saving us a lot of problems by making sure nobody has a heart attack, but I need a scalpel and a cup and that other crap to make that happen.”
“How is a scalpel and a cup going to prevent a heart attack?” Dr. Castor asked, staring at me as though I’d lost my damned mind.
Upon reflection, I realized she made a good point, as exsanguinators weren’t known for addressing cholesterol-induced heart disease, especially not in the severity my future father-in-law suffered through. “I’m going to remove the built up cholesterol plaque from his arteries using my talent, and the scalpel is so I can remove it from his bloodstream. The cup is just a place to put the shit that’s not supposed to be in his blood. I don’t need a cup if I don’t mind more cleanup later. I’ll probably need to remove more than a cup.”
“I see.” Dr. Castor scratched her temple. “While I’d been informed you wanted assistance with a heart disease issue, this was not what I had in mind.”
“You can make sure his blood pressure doesn’t tank on me when I start getting this shit out of his arteries or something. I drove the entire way worried he’d try to fall over dead on me, and he claims his blood pressure is fine!”
“It’s fine because he’s on a blood pressure medication,” the doctor replied, and she offered me a smile. “When he called me, I contacted his doctor for more information on why I was getting a visit. I had not known exsanguinators could handle cholesterol issues like that, but I was informed you’re the best in the world for this sort of work. I’ll admit, I’m quite curious and have a lot of questions.”
“Let’s just say I learned because heart attacks are common in the emergency room, and when I can work for a few hours and reverse a lifetime of blatant stupidity…” I gave Mr. Hampton’s ear a twist. “You are something else, Mr. Hampton!”
He winced and leaned in my direction. “Mercy?”
I twisted to regard my fiancé with a frown. “Bradley?”
“I think he’s learned his lesson, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll make sure he doesn’t run away.” Bradley grinned and held out his hand to Dr. Castor. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Castor.”
She smiled and shook with him. “The pleasure’s mine. How long has Miss Asurella been demonstrating anxiety?”
“I would say it started in earnest when she clued in Dad might have a heart attack when we got onto the 1 and the roads got a little crazy. It was her first time really focusing on the scenery in the area, and she just went off. She was aware of his heart attack risk before we left the hotel, but she didn’t ramp up until we got onto the narrow roads. In good news, she didn’t have any problems with driving, but if she’d had a knife, she might have found a place to pull over to deal with the cholesterol build up. I figured since she was just worrying versus having an actual meltdown, it was fine to leave her as she was. When we head home, we have a date with some therapists. She’s typically calm and collected during actual emergencies, so I think the problem was more related to her inability to fix the problem right that second. When she’s working with a patient, it’s during an emergency and it’s typically a life-or-death situation.”
I sighed and released Mr. Hampton’s ear. “I can’t believe you’ve been running around while you’re a heart bomb ready to blow.”
“I have legitimate reasons for not wanting the standard procedures,” he replied.
“They are legitimate reasons, Miss Asurella,” Dr. Castor confirmed. “Would you like to review the medical file? I acquired a copy of it to review after he called me.”
“I don’t need it. I’ll just monitor his blood pressure while I work, and if I can’t work because his blood pressure drops, I’ll just yell at him some more. I don’t know what his medications do.” I scowled at the reality I’d missed a whole lot of helpful education. “I learned on cows, and they just don’t give cows blood pressure medications! And when there were drugs involved, I just did what I could. Usually, I’d just purge any foreign material out of the blood stream and wait for the doctors to use their medications, get a feel for what they wanted to happen, and roll with it. I did a lot of rolling with it in the ER. The drug overdoses were the worst. Depending on the drug, I could kill them just yanking that shit out of their blood, so we had to experiment, and nothing is quite as nerve rattling as experimenting on some dying patient’s blood because the doctors don’t have the labs back and we don’t know if we’re dealing with a time bomb of a drug.”
“His medication shouldn’t be an issue, although he’ll need to be weaned off of it to prevent some unwanted side effects. You don’t need to worry about that,” Dr. Castor said, keeping her tone soothing. “You can leave the drugs intact in his blood stream unless his blood pressure drops, and you can begin lowering the amount in his blood stream until his blood pressure is where you want it. We’ll then adjust his dosage and wean him off the medications to avoid the side effects.
“What are the side effects?”
“A stroke or heart attack comes to mind.”
The entry of the Mission-style home had a bench to go with the elegant yet sparsely decorated end tables, and I flung myself onto it, covered my head with my arms, and wailed over the unfairness of it all.
“Janette?” Bradley asked. “Are you all right?”
“I’m not going to be able to sleep for a week because he might have a stroke or a heart attack.” I allowed myself another wail, heaved a sigh, and sat up, straightening my clothes and glasses, and gave a nod. “Okay. That’s better.”
Bradley stared at me with his mouth hanging open.
“You won’t have to stay awake for a week monitoring him,” Dr. Castor assured me. “I already have an updated prescription to handle the problem until he can be weaned off in a safe fashion. He’ll be fine. He’ll feel a lot better once you’re done with him, too. And yes, I understand that reaction. The first time I had a critical patient, I felt the same way. How dare anyone suggest I sleep when I might lose my patient if I take my eyes off him for even a moment? You won’t lose a week of sleep, as he’ll take his medications right on schedule and be checked daily until he’s clear.”
“That implies he hasn’t been feeling well.”
“Heart disease of the severity he’s suffering from is not ideal. So, no. He wouldn’t have been feeling well. After you’re done with him, I expect he’ll sleep quite well, and he’ll be eager to do more strenuous forms of exercise. His former physician ignored the signs, so his treatments were started late. That isn’t his fault. He has a new physician who has been treating the problem, but his new physician advised waiting for you to handle the serious work and has been making certain your patient would survive the wait.” The doctor looked me over. “I would definitely like to discuss how exsanguinators can help treat heart disease. I’ll admit, I was unaware heart disease was your domain. Cholesterol and plaque aren’t blood-based, although they certainly hamper the flow of blood throughout the body.”
“Exsanguination is more than dealing with blood,” I admitted. “I suppose I’m a walking bodily fluids expert. I can manipulate spinal fluid and even stuff like bile and stomach acid, although blood is easier. I can also work with infections, although that’s more challenging as well. But if it’s a fluid in the body, chances are
I can manipulate it. Cholesterol and plaque directly come into contact with blood, and I can use the blood to wear away at the plaque and remove the base cholesterol deposits. Plaque takes more work to remove, but when I’m done with him, he’ll have squeaky clean arteries. I can detect the differences between the artery walls, the cholesterol, and the plaque. I’ll shunt all the unwanted material into his bloodstream, prick his finger, and eject it that way. He might need a single stitch once I’m done with him, depending on if there are any larger chunks I can’t break apart. And if there is, I’ll open a hole nearest to where that chunk is, and then I’ll have to monitor for clotting.”
“Fascinating. Can you explain what you’re doing while you’re doing it?”
Nobody had ever asked if I would walk them through such a procedure while doing it before, and I stared at her with wide eyes. “Sure, but if I’m doing something delicate, I’ll wait to talk until after I’m done the work. But I’ll let you know I’m about to do something delicate. When I’m clearing out his heart, I’ll be quiet, but I’ll start with the ascending aorta, checking to see how bad that section is. If it’s blocked, I’ll clear out the heart itself and the descending aorta before tackling the ascending and minimize the heart attack risk. I need to make sure anything I clear out doesn’t pump into the heart and cause the heart attack I’m trying to avoid. But, I can control the blood flow and bypass the heart altogether if needed. Depending on the severity, I might. I’ve worked with a lot of heart attack victims in the emergency room, and blockages are a top culprit. My job is to keep the patient’s blood oxygenated and reaching organs as needed. If I stop talking, it’s because I’m busy.”
“Of course. The patient’s health always comes first, even in research situations. There are many ethical rules physicians must follow when studying even rare diseases, and doing our best to cure the patient is one of them, even in cases of terminal diseases or extreme trauma. Whenever I work with a trauma patient, my goal is to restore their life to them in the best possible fashion. Sometimes, difficult choices must be made, but they are always made with the patient’s consent.”