Stolen Innocence

by Beverly L Anderson

  As he entered, he stumbled a bit. Steadying himself on the wall, he cursed under his breath in Korean as he pushed the button for the seventh floor. He realized the light for the ground floor was lit. He had hoped to make it to the seventh before dealing with people, but it seemed someone was getting on the elevator soon. He stood to the side of the door as it stopped and opened at the ground floor. He had one last hope: maybe no one would get on.

  His luck seemed to be nothing if not consistent because someone was getting on. He looked up and hid a grimace. She was a slender and buxom woman, mid-twenties it appeared, with platinum blonde hair in a bun. He noted she had a set of clear blue eyes accented with neutral makeup. She smiled down at him slightly. Most irritatingly, she stood quite a bit taller than him with her heels. Of course, at five feet three, most people were taller than Kieran. He smiled back, then immediately realized she had not pushed another button. The lack of another button meant she was getting off at the seventh floor and he was going to be in the elevator with her until then.

  “Hey!” She smiled at him with far too many teeth for his liking.

  “H-hey,” Kieran responded, glancing at her. His face turned pink immediately before he could think about anything else to say.

  Unfortunately, when he blushed at speaking with women they assumed it meant attraction. It did not mean any sort of interest at all. He just hated interpersonal relations that had nothing to do with his job. Granted, he hated interpersonal relations that did have to do with his job. He always lacked the correct script for a situation dealing with others in social settings. Operating on brains was so much easier. His continual state of embarrassment tended to encourage those trying to make sexual advances. They seemed to perceive his discomfort as some sort of inane mating ritual. He didn’t know how to stop this sort of thing from happening, but it was quite frustrating.

  “Are you a doctor here?” she continued and tilted her head toward him. He did wear his usual white coat over his scrubs, but he refrained from making the comment he was obviously a doctor.

  The woman kept trying to make eye contact. Not only did he found it uncomfortable but her mere presence seems to exude some sort of...something. He felt almost compelled to answer when she spoke. It was strange. He supposed most would consider her attractive. He made note of her dress, though. She wore a short black skirt with a black blazer over a lowcut red camisole revealing her ample cleavage. Again, his brain insisted on taking in all the information possible, even when it was not needed.

  “Um, yes,” he answered, turning once again to stare at the numbers above the elevator door. Why did they move so slow? When was this elevator going to get to the floor he wanted?

  “Oh, you’re so young, are you an intern? Or resident is what they call it?” She moved a bit closer, making Kieran back away into the side of the elevator. She was not intending to try and crowd him, he knew. He was already on the other side of the elevator and people tended to get closer to individuals they were speaking with. Now he was pressed against the mirrored side.

  “N-no,” he stammered while glancing up at her, then back up to the lit numbers of the elevator. One more floor. One more floor.

  “Oh, really? What do you do?” She peered down her nose at him with that smile again. She was inside his comfort zone and he felt boxed in.

  “I-I am Head of neurosurgery, but I must see to a patient waiting, nice talking to you.” He gasped, almost tripping since he could not get out of the elevator fast enough.

  After he was out, he checked behind him to see the woman walking in the same direction. She appeared to be searching for a room. He shook the encounter off and wound his way around the seventh floor until he saw the room he was looking for, 756, and knocked gently before opening it. In the bed sat a pretty girl with long dark auburn hair, and wide grayish green eyes.

  The room she was in was not much different than the average hospital room. There was not a lot of equipment out since she was only admitted for evaluation for surgery. The bed dominated the center of the room, and there were two windows to the left of the bed. The windows had a seat under them that turned down into a sleeping surface for any family members if they should stay with a patient. The only other furnishing in the room was the TV along the east wall and a recliner next to the plain hospital bed. The bathroom sat behind and to the right of the bed. All the neurosurgery rooms were single occupant rooms, which was one thing Kieran was grateful for.

  He gave her his best “nice doctor” smile he practiced so much in front of the mirror. He picked up her chart from the end of the bed and flipped through it even though he already knew every detail in it. It seemed to comfort patients to have the doctor skimming over their charts in front of them.

  “Um, hello, who are you?” she asked timidly, glancing around the otherwise empty room.

  His distracted state had led him to mess up the script already. He was supposed to begin the script as soon as he came in before he picked up the chart. This was one of the main reasons he did not like to meet with patients’ family members independent of the patient. It threw off his routine and the scripts he used when dealing with patients.

  “I am Dr. Sung. Assuming you sign for the surgery, I will be taking the tumor out of your brain first thing on Monday morning.” He smiled again, trying to get onto the script as quickly as he could. “Then I am afraid you shall be stuck here for a couple weeks with our hospital food. For that I must apologize in advance.”

  He felt the strain on his facial muscles from holding the fake smile. Granted, it worked, because the anxious look on Janet’s face faded a bit. She gazed at him with a nod. He thanked all the psychology texts he had read over the years for his ability to manipulate his actions in front of his patients. Happy patients asked fewer questions and caused him less stress, after all. He placed the new films on the counter to examine for the patient’s benefit. He did not really need to look at them again; he had them memorized already.

  Just as he was about to continue, he heard speaking behind him as the door opened. He glanced behind him to see Janet’s mother and the blonde woman from the elevator coming into the room. She must have stopped in the main waiting room to meet with Mrs. Edison. Great, more people made his anxiety spike higher. It was hard enough dealing with his patients, but family and friends such were a nightmare.

  “Dr. Sung, you beat me here.” The older woman looked anywhere but his face. It appeared Thomas had taken a bit to give her a talk. “Dr. McKellar said you’d come to speak to Janet once you’d picked up her films from radiology.”

  “Hum, yes, I was just telling your daughter I would be performing the surgery Monday morning if she agrees to it.” He nodded at them, focusing his eyes on their noses to avoid their piercing gazes.

  The blonde-haired woman was openly gaping at him. “You...you were serious? You’re like twenty!”

  Kieran arched a brow, turning back to the chart in his hands. “I turned twenty-five this year. But my age does not change the fact I need a decision on the surgery today, so I can confirm the staff for Monday morning. I also need to set up pre-surgery tests and preparation. I have already put the staff on alert for the surgery as of last week, when Janet came in. Janet’s surgery would take top priority as one step down from emergency. The mass is large enough to start interfering with her bodily functions, and if it is not removed soon, her estimated time to live is around six to ten months, depending on results of chemotherapy. My experience with this type of tumor is it does not respond well, and chemo is not a fun experience to go through, especially when the results are debatable.”

  He received blinking eyes from all those in the room as a response. “You are cold,” the busty blonde-haired woman hissed. “Do you not have any bedside manner?”

  “Clair!” Janet chided, slapping the blonde woman on the arm. “Enough. He’s just giving me the information. Don’t treat me like I don’t know I’m dying, Clair. I’m well aware of the fact. I would much rather hear it straigh
t out rather than someone trying to sugar-coat it.”

  Clair started to say something then nodded. “I’m sorry, Janet, I just worry about you, you’re like the kid sister I never had. I don’t like to think about the fact you’re so close to leaving me.”

  Frowning, Kieran ran through what he had said. Smile at the patient, check. Joke with the patient about bad hospital food post-surgery, check. Explain place of priority of surgery compared to others, check... He paused. That was when she had interrupted. And he could not be sure he had done it properly. Had he done the risk and benefit part wrong again? Explaining the risks of the surgery and the potential benefits was the hardest for him. He tended to get technical and provide more information than the patient wanted from him. Why a patient would not want the most complete information, he did not understand. They always wanted good news and never the truth. He had found the less information they had, the better things went. All those things were in the social area of dealing with patients, of course. It made no sense whatsoever to him. No logic at all.

  Kieran arched a brow for a moment before scowling. Without another word, he quickly stepped into the hallway. He flagged down a nurse from the nurses’ station nearby. A short woman headed over toward him.

  Mary Jameson had grown up next door to Kieran’s family in Chesterfield. She sighed, running a hand through her short, brown hair. Kieran shrugged, staring at her blue paisley scrub top intently. He was avoiding her hazel eyes. She put her hands on her hips for a second and sighed again. Mary was much shorter than the blonde woman from the elevator. She was perhaps five feet in height, and rather plump about the middle.

  “Need some intervention with them?” she asked and put a hand on his shoulder. Of course, Kieran noticed the extra pressure she exerted. It did not make any impact on him. He liked pressure sensations, after all.

  “Perhaps,” he responded, looking up a bit and smiling at her.

  Nodding, Mary went back into the room with him. She snatched the chart out of his hands, startling him before she smiled at the three women in the room. Kieran stepped back to stand back against the glass door. He stared at the ground with his arms crossed over his chest. He hated the fact he had to be in the room for this because he knew Mary would say annoying things. He grabbed the tablet from his pocket and started a new game of Angry Birds on silent.

  “So, we have Miss Janet Edison? How are you today? I see you met Dr. Sung, and he said he was perhaps...ah, well, his normal self. I’m here to clarify and answer any questions. My name is Mary Jameson, so I’ll take any questions about the procedure. I’ll be assisting the doctor during the surgery. I’ll also be the liaison to the family during the procedure.” She glanced back and saw Kieran busy on the tablet and the turned back to the family. Kieran was watching her even if she did not realize it. “I’ll apologize for Dr. Sung’s...ah manner. He tends to be somewhat abrasive with patients.”

  Kieran cut his eyes up and felt a pang of annoyance. She always “apologized” for him. Not only did she make some sort of apology, she always did it in such a way she seemed to think he was not paying attention. He did not appreciate some of the things she said when she felt certain his attention was diverted. He was fully capable of listening to her and playing a game on the tablet. Why could she not be more like Artemis and accept him as he was? She generally aligned with Thomas and his beliefs about what was best for him. Artemis, on the other hand, was fine with Kieran’s thoughts on things no matter what they were. Perhaps he should rethink how he felt about the people in his life.

  “I told him he didn’t have much of a bedside manner.” Clair stared at her friend in the bed. “He doesn’t seem to care much for the impact of his words on someone who is facing...facing what she is.”

  Mary ran a hand over her short brown hair. “Ah, I know, I know, but you know what they say about the best doctors, they tend to be terrible at the bedside. His is rather clinical.”

  “Is he really the best?” Janet spoke with a tone just over a whisper. “I mean, he’s going to do surgery on my brain, so...”

  Kieran smirked at the tablet. No matter what else came out of this debacle, the choice about the surgery had already been made. Janet would sign the paperwork, and then Monday would see the long and strenuous surgery. He felt the surging sensation of excitement in his stomach at the prospect of the challenging surgery. This was what made all the frustrating parts of the job worth it. Monday, he would go into the surgery theater and open her skull. He would see the tumor that was teasing him from the films with the seemingly inoperable problem it presented. He would solve the problem.

  “Ah, he’s a genius at surgery, there is little doubt,” Mary answered. “I would ask you ignore his terrible bedside manner. Please understand, he is definitely not good with people.” Mary handed Janet the clipboard with the paperwork on it. She lowered her voice a bit, “He’s just...socially awkward, you see. He doesn’t do well with people anytime.”

  Kieran felt somewhat betrayed by Mary now. The comment was outside the realm of his bedside manner with patients. She had been more and more aggressive with telling him what he should do, as though he could not make the choices for himself. He ground his teeth and shifted his weight to his other hip. He wanted this over. He needed to talk to someone else besides Mary before he had another episode with the tics.

  Janet took the clipboard and looked over the paperwork. She scribbled a few times on the pages and then handed it back. Kieran knew the sound by heart. She had signed the paperwork for the surgery. He swallowed a thick lump in his throat, hoping Mary deemed his presence finished soon. He wanted to get out of the room and see if he could find Artemis. He needed to be with someone who was not judging him for a little bit. Mary’s words left him with a feeling of deep irritation and he had to get away from her.

  “Alright, Dr. Sung,” she said as she looked over the paperwork. She looked at Kieran. “Everything here seems to be in order.” Kieran snapped the tablet case closed and stood up straight. He glanced at Mary.

  “I shall see you Monday morning.” Kieran gave Janet and her visitors a curt nod. He then quickly escaped out the door.

  He heard Mary continuing to speak behind him, but he had to get out of the room immediately. His eye had already started twitching just standing there and listening. Completely unaware of where he was he nearly ran into someone in a set of scrubs. He stopped, apologized without thinking and cursed his constant motor issues. If Mary had been around, she would have chided him for being clumsy, as though he had control over it. He had to get to Artemis right away or he was going to say something to Mary he would have to apologize for later. It did not strike him as odd to fear such a thing, though Artemis told him again and again he should never feel bad for being himself. He really hoped Artemis was back from the Long-Term Care floor, because he needed to talk to him.

  AS ARTEMIS SEATH MADE his way through the Long-Term Care ward to the patient’s room, no one bothered to approach him. He was an unassuming looking person who wasn’t quite five and half feet tall, typically easily looked over. He was not in the best mood as he navigated the hallways with practiced ease. He found the room he was looking for and tucked his dark brown hair behind his ear. His hair tended to fall into his face on the right side, but he preferred it in his face most the time. With patients like Ms. Dankin, he pulled it back. He pushed open the door and went into the dimly lit room.

  The elderly woman turned and gave him a wide toothless grin. Artemis had visited her yesterday after she had finished the testing on seventh. They had found a “berry” aneurysm causing some troublesome symptoms for the septuagenarian. It was a common type of aneurism, and Dr. Santos had been confident he could successfully clip it without much trouble.

  “Ms. Dankin how are you today, beautiful?” he asked with a broad smile. His bright greenish blue eyes took in her vitals with a practiced glance. He saw she was doing relatively well today.

  “Oh, sweetie,” she nodded. “I’m feeling better,
I think. I slept last night! Am I moving to the seventh floor today?”

  “I think we might be able to bring you upstairs and figure out what to do about the little blood vessel in your noggin who is misbehavin’.” He looked over her chart. He knew all about her case at Thomas’s request. Dr. Santos should have come down himself, or his primary nurse. Instead, Thomas had sent Artemis, saying something about wanting his best nurse on Ms. Dankin’s case. Artemis was sure the real reason had more to do with keeping him off the seventh floor as much as possible.

  “Is this doctor good? Dr. Santos?” she asked as her face turned a bit concerned. “I know all you here at this hospital are good, but...”

  “Dr. Santos specializes in vascular neurosurgery, so he is very good at what he does,” Artemis told her as he checked to make sure everything was ready for the transfer. “All seems in order, lovely. The orderlies will be down in about an hour to move up upstairs. They’ll bring Dr. Santos’s regular nurse with you, her name’s Deana. She’s a lovely lady, and she’ll get you situated in a nice room upstairs. I’ll come by and check in to make sure everything’s going well and just to say hi.” Artemis smiled at her again as he put the chart back down.

  Artemis moved up to the head of the bed and checked over the IV. Anna Dankin had a hip replacement several days ago. Unfortunately, she had developed a series of worrisome symptoms so close to surgery. Headaches, dizziness, and occasional blind spots had started occurring, leading them to have her sent for MRI. Luckily, they’d found the aneurysm and it was a very good candidate for clipping, or a surgery where the little bubble on the artery was simply clipped off, and the artery repaired. She was good health for her age and was only staying on Long Term Care long enough to go through physical therapy.