Chapter 13
We walk down a separate hallway from the others. “This will be your room until after the surgery.” I walk into the clean, blue room. The bed is made with white sheets, and a television set is across from the bed. Nurse Garrison leaves, shutting the door behind her. I turn on the television to see if there is anything on. A few minutes later, a little old woman comes in carrying a cream-colored tray full of food. It is not as good as my mother’s cooking, but it isn’t bad.
I want to call my mother and father and tell them I am okay, but there are no phones, no way to contact them. I noticed even the nurse’s stations are void of phones. I wander into the bathroom and see there is no mirror above the sink—no mirrors anywhere. How will I know what my hair looks like? What if I have a big chocolate pudding stain on my face? I will not even know, unless someone tells me. I decide to become a religious face-washer. I wash my face with the clean white washcloth and the cream-colored soap. After I finish I decide to go to bed early as there is really nothing to do, and I am tired, anyway.
I am really glad I went to bed early because first thing in the morning, Nurse Garrison wakes me up. “The doctor would like to see you. You will follow me.”
I think this is strange. Isn’t the doctor supposed to come to me? I’m the one with the bad heart. But since I have never been in a hospital before, I am unsure of how things work, so I don’t question. Nurse Garrison walks me down the same hallway toward the double doors that leads to the room where I first met Dr. Pruitt.
“Ah, good to see you, John.” Dr. Pruitt shakes my hand the moment I enter the room. This time, Nurse Garrison does not leave. “Early riser, I see. Good man. Let’s get started.” He has me sit up on the examination table and remove my white cotton hospital shirt. He listens to my heart with the stethoscope. “I’m going to take your blood pressure and if that is fine, I’m going to give you a shot.”
“What kind of shot?” I ask the doctor, who seems surprised by the question.
He thinks for a moment before answering me, “It’s a vitamin shot, something that we need to give you in order for you to be ready for your heart surgery. You’ll have a series of shots before and after your surgery, which will make you healthier and stronger.”
After the shot, the doctor has me run through a series of tests and exercises. Then I am taken back to my room.
A daily routine begins: wake up early, test and exercise with Dr. Pruitt, who in turn gives me my morning shot, and vitamin supplements at each meal. In the afternoon, Dr. Pruitt begins meeting me for lunch, asking me about my family, my life. He has many questions and so, over the course of a few days, the doctor and I become good friends. I also notice he is always making sure no one is around when we are conversing, most particularly, Nurse Garrison. I can’t blame him; she is not at all friendly and probably couldn’t care less. I only feel bad for her kids, if she has any.
But I wonder how much longer it will be until the surgery. And I wonder what it will feel like to be cut open. And most importantly, I wonder if I will live through it? I know more often than not, people die going through open-heart surgery. I have one other question I am afraid to ask. With all this strenuous exercise and tests, why was I told at home to avoid activities like this? I am afraid I’ll die even before I hit the table. I put on a strong face for the doctor, who I like, and for Nurse Garrison, who I do not trust. I secretly wish my father were here to reassure me, to counsel me, and to tell me it is going to be okay and for my mother to hold me like she had when I was a small boy
The day finally comes when I find out when and what is going to happen. I go in to see Dr. Pruitt but instead of exercises, he sits me down.
“All day today we will be preparing you for surgery tomorrow. There will be a series of shots, and you’ll have to take some medicine, as well. Let me explain what we are going to do tomorrow. First, we are going to put you asleep so you don’t feel anything. Then we are going to remove your old heart and put this in its place.” He hands me a glossy photograph of something that looks like half heart, half machine. “Then we close you up, and you’re good to go.”
“I’m getting a new heart?” I had thought they were just going to go in and repair the heart, not that I would receive a whole new one. I know I will have to take some sort of drug to suppress my body’s natural immune system in order to keep it from seeing the heart as something that does not belong in the body, seeing the heart as foreign, and rejecting it or ridding itself of the new heart. My risk of dying just went up tenfold. I will never have the drugs I need. There are just too many shortages. “What kind of drugs will I have to take after the surgery?” Even if I get the drugs, it will only be as long as I am useful to the State. As soon as my usefulness is done I won’t receive any more drugs, and on that day I will die.
“Don’t worry, there will be no need for drugs. The heart has little nanobots inside it. They will go in and change your immune system so it will not reject the new heart. I invented this heart myself.” He seems to want to talk about it more, but he doesn’t dare with Nurse Garrison standing right next to him. I don’t blame him. She is obviously on the take with the government. One wrong move and Dr. Pruitt might need a new heart of his own.
We finish more tests. I do some light weightlifting and run on the treadmill some more. I still wonder if all this is safe for me to do with my enlarged heart, but I assume the doctor will do nothing that will put me in danger. When we are done, Nurse Garrison escorts me back to my room, and for the rest of the day I am given different shots. I am no longer allowed to eat in order to prepare for the surgery, but the shots keep coming. My arm is sore, and I wonder if I can receive a shot in a different arm. But Nurse Garrison doesn’t care at all. Her job is to give me the shots, and she does. I am grateful when she tells me this is the last one for the day.