when his patient was free of the twilight medication. “The damage to the valve is too extensive to seal the leak as we’d hoped.”
Although having taken leave from his clinical position in Minnesota, Oz continued researching a valve repair device that didn’t require opening the patient’s chest. He opted to use the innovative procedure at Madison when patients met the study criteria.
When Oz decreased the anesthetic medication and removed the catheter from the man’s femoral artery, Blair placed a weighted device on her patient’s groin, keeping pressure on the bleed.
Mr Duke’s face had grown pale, but not from blood loss. “Does this mean I have to have open-heart surgery?”
“There isn’t a way around it.” Oz sat straighter on the wheeled stool. “If you’re agreeable, we’ll get you on the schedule for tomorrow. Regardless, I recommend doing the surgery within the next few weeks.”
The medicine starting to wear off, Mr Duke shook his head. “I can’t have surgery that soon. I didn’t come prepared to stay. I’ll be out of commission for weeks. There are things at home, at the bank, that need doing before I’m incapacitated that long.”
“Who’s going to do those things when you die from heart disease? Who’s going to take care of your family?”
Blair couldn’t drag her gaze away from Oz. His lips had thinned. The cleft in his chin seemed deeper, craggier. But his eyes were what held her mesmerized.
In that moment, she glimpsed an unguarded vulnerability she hadn’t known he possessed. Somewhere along the line he’d known heartache.
Blair didn’t like the quiver of empathy that look elicited within her. Not one bit.
She busied herself checking things she’d already checked.
“Will that happen if I choose not to have surgery?” Mr Duke swallowed hard. “Won’t the stents you put in today be enough to keep me going? I wasn’t feeling that bad to begin with, just got out of breath easily.”
“Maybe nothing will happen if you don’t have the surgery.” His expression having returned to normal, Oz shrugged. “But odds are you’ll go into heart failure or develop another serious heart condition such as atrial fibrillation. The stents have opened up the blocked arteries, but won’t correct your leaky valve.”
Mr Duke grimaced. “What does this valve do? What does it matter if a little blood leaks?”
“The mitral valve is the valve between your heart’s left atrium and left ventricle. When the valve doesn’t seal properly, some of the blood that is supposed to be pumped from the ventricle into your aorta washes back into the atrium. That means less blood goes into the aorta. To compensate for the decreased blood available to the body, the left ventricle enlarges so it can work harder to pump more blood.”
Mr Duke digested Oz’s explanation, taking a moment before he responded. “You told me last week when you did the ultrasound that my heart was enlarged. Is this valve why?”
“The heart is a muscle. If it’s working harder, it’s going to get bigger, just as your bicep enlarges when you work out.”
“If I don’t do the surgery, my heart will keep getting worse?”
“Absolutely,” Oz said without hesitation. “The longer you wait, the more damaged the valve is going to be, the more extensive the surgery will be. Currently, I can surgically repair the valve, which means you keep your own valve. If we wait, the valve will be so damaged you’ll have to have a mechanical replacement.”
“A mechanical valve?” The man’s brows drew together. “Why mechanical?”
“Because a tissue valve replacement would wear out. You’d be back in surgery in ten to fifteen years. With a mechanical, you’ll have to take a blood thinner, but the valve would last your lifetime. Still, the best option is to fix your own valve before you reach that point.”
“I need some time.” Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, the man sighed. “I don’t have to decide this moment?”
“No.” Oz shook his head. “I’ll be by to see you later this morning. Right now, you do everything your lovely nurse tells you to do and you’ll be fine.”
Blair ignored his silver-tongued compliment.
“Thank you, Dr Manning. I’ll think about what you’ve said and discuss it with my family.” Mr Duke held out his hand toward Oz.
“Blair will provide you with some literature and a video on mitral valve repair.” Removing his rubber gloves, Oz shook Mr Duke’s hand. “If you or your family have any additional questions or want more information, feel free to ask. Blair’s part of my cardiac team and knows about as much as I do about the repair procedure.”
She doubted that.
Still a little hazy, Mr Duke nodded.
“Be sure to tell your son about the fund-raiser.” Oz sent a knowing look toward Blair. “If he’s lucky, Blair will bid on him.”
Blair gave Oz a cool glare as she continued preparing her patient for transport to the recovery room. No wonder she didn’t like him. He was a total flirt, prone to insincere flattery, a womanizer, and an incessant tease.
“Pay him no attention,” she advised her patient. “I think he’s sniffed anesthesia one time too many.”
Oz laughed, deep and throaty, and Blair was suddenly overtaken by an acute attack of loneliness. Loneliness at just how long it had been since she’d spent any real time with a man, just laughing and enjoying together time.
What was she thinking?
She didn’t need or want someone like Oz making her question her life. He made her uncomfortable, made her heart pound as if she’d run a marathon in record time, made her lungs feel as if they couldn’t get enough air.
All of which just made her like him that much less.
After she had Mr Duke resting in Recovery, she headed back to the cardiac nurses’ station.
The devil leaned against the counter, looking sexy as sin and flirting with two nurses. No surprise there.
Kanesha Biles was happily married, but the nursing director was far from immune to Dr Oz. Her dark eyes glittering with delight, she slapped at Oz’s arm and giggled at whatever he’d said. Becky stared at him in pure, unadulterated adoration, as if she were ready to sell her soul for a night of his attention.
“Oz Manning, you are bad,” Kanesha scolded, shaking her head with an indulgent look on her face.
“You know what they say about bad boys, don’t you?” Oz asked, his attention shifting to Blair.
She picked up a hospital memo, careful not to look into eyes so blue they’d been known to stupefy even the most staid of feminine souls. Eyes so blue they reminded her of another man who’d once hurt her by his careless use of the charms he wielded like a sword slaying a woman’s defenses. Her defenses.
Just like Chris, Oz knew the effect he had on the opposite sex. He thrived
