In his peripheral vision, he saw Annabelle’s eyelids close as if she was relieved by the words. Then she squared up her shoulders and continued to watch both him and the clock.
When the last stitch was in place, Max looked at every vessel and each part of the heart, making sure he’d forgotten nothing. Only when he was completely satisfied did he give Gary the okay to start the warming process and begin weaning Hope off the bypass machine. Sometimes the weaning process itself would coax the new heart into beating, the return of blood flow triggering the electrical impulses, which would then start firing. The surgical suite was silent until Annabelle’s voice again counted down the time. ‘Three quarters.’
This time there was the tiniest quaver to her tone. Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just give her a few minutes.
Sweetheart?
He hadn’t used that endearment when thinking about her in ages. And he shouldn’t be thinking it now.
His gaze zeroed in on his patient’s open chest to avoid glancing up at Annabelle, knowing something in his expression might reveal emotions he wasn’t even aware of having.
Two more minutes went by. If the heart didn’t start soon, they would have to shock it with the paddles. Even if it came to that, they could still have a good outcome, but something made him loath to use more aggressive measures.
Just one more minute. Come on. You can do it.
This time he couldn’t resist glancing at Annabelle. Her face was tight and drawn, no colour to be seen, even in her lips. It was as if she were sending her own lifeblood over to the baby so that she could live.
His assessment of his wife’s thoughts was interrupted by a quick blipping sound from a nearby machine. Everyone’s attention rocketed to the heart monitor. Blip-blip.
Looking directly at the new heart, he saw a beautiful sight. The organ contracted so strongly it seemed to want to leap out of its spot.
Within a few more seconds, it had settled into a normal sinus rhythm. Strong. Unfaltering. Unhesitating. The most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.
‘It’s working.’
There were cheers of relief throughout the operating theatre, but one voice was missing. When he looked up to see why, Annabelle’s hand was covering her mouth and tears were streaming down her face. His instinct was to go to her, wrap her in his arms and say everything was going to be okay. But he couldn’t promise her that. Not ever again. It was why they were no longer together, because he couldn’t bring himself to say those words. He’d been at the end of himself by that point and had to let her go in order to save her.
At least that was Max’s reasoning at the time.
Had it been valid?
It didn’t matter now. What was done was done. There was no going back. Not that he wanted to.
So he turned his attention to the patient in front of him, assessing her needs and checking the sutured vessels for any sign of leakage. Everything looked tight and steady. And that beautiful heart was still beating.
Five minutes later, the decision was made to close her up. Max could have passed that work over to someone else. In fact it was customary after a long surgery to let an intern do the final unglamorous job. But Max wanted to do it himself. Needed to follow the path all the way to the end before he would feel right about passing her over to the team of nurses who would watch over her all night long.
‘Let’s finish it.’
Soon the room was alive with different staff members doing their appointed tasks, the atmosphere much different now than it had been twenty minutes ago when that heart had sat in Baby Hope’s chest as lifeless as her old heart was now. They would start the immunosuppressant medication soon, to prevent her body from turning on her new organ and killing it, mistaking it for an invader. She’d be on medication for the rest of her life, which Max hoped would be a long and healthy one.
He set up the drainage tube system and then closed the sternum, using a plating technique that was made up of tiny screws and metal joiners. He carefully tightened each and every screw. Once that was done, muscle was pulled back into place and finally the skin, leaving space for the tubes that would drain off excess fluid. And the ventilator would remain in place for the next day or so, until they were sure everything was still working the way it should.
An hour later, an exhausted but jubilant Max cleared the baby to head to Recovery and then to the critical care ward to be closely observed over the next couple of days. Six hours of surgery had seemed like an eternity, at least emotionally. He was worn out.
When the baby was wheeled away, he congratulated his team, aware of the fact that Annabelle was standing in the corner. She looked as tired as he felt. A cord tightened in his gut as he continued thanking everyone individually.
The last person he went to shake hands with was the perfusionist, who had done his job perfectly, with stellar results. Only when he reached the man, his head was swivelled to the side, looking with interest at...
Annabelle.
He frowned.
Max peeled off his gloves and tossed them in the stack of operating rubbish that sat in a heap a few feet away, watching Annabelle. She was gathering instruments, seemingly unaware of the other man’s gaze.
Gary’s attention finally swung back to him and he smiled, stretching his hand out. ‘Were you waiting for me? Sorry. It was great working with you.’ He nodded in Annabelle’s direction. ‘I was just wondering who the nurse was. She looks vaguely familiar, but I don’t think I’ve seen her in surgery before.’
One of his biceps relaxed, and he accepted the man’s quick handshake.
She wasn’t using her married name any more, but he decided to use a tactful approach and see if the perfusionist understood his meaning. ‘That’s Annabelle Brookes-Ainsley. She works down in the neonatal unit, but was interested in this particular case.’
‘Because...’ The drawn-out word said Gary hadn’t connected the last names yet.
‘Because she’s been working with this patient. And it’s my first surgery here at the hospital. It was a chance to see me in action.’ He connected the two phrases, even though one had nothing to do with the other. He certainly didn’t want to spell out that Annabelle was his wife. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate that, but the guy had put him in a tough spot.
‘To see you in...’ Gary’s eyes widened and a hint of red crept up his neck. ‘Of course. I should have realised.’
‘Not a problem. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing, but I wanted to come over and say how much I appreciate the smooth handling of this surgery.’
‘I—well, I appreciate it.’
With a ghost of a smile, Max swung away from the man and spoke briefly with the intern who’d been observing, answering a couple of questions he had. He kept that easy smile, but his insides were churning to get to Annabelle before she disappeared. And she would, if he knew her. She would want to go see how Baby Hope was doing.
The heart transplant marked the third patient ‘crisis’ that she’d assisted
