There Are Rules: Finish the Story Contest #31

The Beginning

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What Goes Around, Comes Around
By @f3nix

Barnard Hall, in the heart of the west wing of the medical school, the Asclepius sancta sanctorum. The light of the sunset dripped from the dusty double-glazed windows and mixed with the cedar scent of the wooden stalls, arranged in steep theatre. A visitor who had passed the heavy double door would have undoubtedly caught the note of animal musk mixing with the wood essence. Smell of anxiety. Smell of hunted prey. Smell of university student exhausted during a long, endless session of exams.

"I strongly advise you to think carefully about your next words," Prof. Angelus said to the student.

Spread over several rows, set in the narrow space between the back and the table top, the remaining students were crossed by the icy scalpel blade of that voice.

"Here we are," Luke thought in a flash of conscious resignation.

It was the sixth time he had to repeat that exam: after five fails in a row his whole life have been interrupted and swallowed up in that black hole. By now he knew every detail of "At Heart of Cardiology", the three volumes treatise written by Prof. Angelus, a widely recognized eminence of cardiology.

For an eternal moment his thoughts dissociated from the scene and flew to that day three years earlier when, at the head of a handful of fifteen other students, Luke had decided to protest the decisions of the seventy-year-old professor.

"Do you mind if I ask you.. do you really intend to graduate in this university?" A stunned secretary had told him at some point, after the insistent protests of the student committee showed no sign of blurring.

And at what levels could the power of an old ordinary professor, close to retirement, ever come? The answer did not wait and, just two months later, Prof. Angelus was acclaimed by the unanimous council as dean of the faculty. Luke was instantly fire-branded and he would never graduate from that university.

"Well?" The assistant, the professor's guard dog, broke the silence.

"The... the... commissurotomy can only be performed if the flaps are not calcified and the subvalvular apparatus is preserved. With a left anterior thoracotomy, the chest is accessed through the resection space of rib 5. Once the pericardium is opened through the left auricle, a diverter is introduced into the mitral ostium which, opening, forces the valvular flaps to separate the merged commissures." Luke answered almost without breathing, tense like a Vietcong in his tunnel paved of sleepless study nights.

The professor's nose had disgusting bright red veins, Luke did not know if he was breathing - or alive at all. He looked down at the white, protruding knuckles of his left hand, clinging to the arm of his chair, and waited for his fate.

"Twenty-six, do you accept?" A note of irony in that electric scalpel voice.

"Yes. Sorry, I'll take the transcripts." Luke stumbled into his bag, looking through the notebooks for the grade transcripts. He had not even brought the booklet with him since there was so little hope of passing the exam.

The professor absent-mindedly drew a twenty-four and a signature in cuneiform spelling.

The cold light of the Pentaled surgical light-head outlined the instruments neatly aligned as efficient soldiers ready to execute his orders. It was almost pleasant to the watchful eyes of Dr. Luke Richards, a promising cardio-surgeon and head of the famous Royal Brompton Hospital in Chelsea, London.

"Doctor, we have verified that a serious heart attack is going on. The frequency is 207 bpm. We administered 50 mg of protamine sulfate, the patient did not react. Furthermore, his wife informed us of a complication deriving from senile cardiac amyloidosis."

My Ending

There Are Rules
By @agmoore

Luke hadn't seen Angelus for eight years. They were both working at the Royal Brompton back then--Luke as Attending Physician, Angelus as President of the Board. An emergency meeting was called to consider one of Luke's pediatric patients. She'd been born with neontal lupus and congenital heartblock. A pacemaker kept her going for the last ten years, but now she needed a new heart.

The hospital had guidelines for all procedures. This child, Rosalita Amasario, did not fit into those guidelines because her overall health was poor. So the Board turned down her application, and Angelus cast the deciding vote.

"In order for her to live," Angelus had explained at that time, "someone else must die, someone with a better chance at life. We have to be practical."

Rosalita expired two weeks later. Angelus retired and Luke never heard anything about him again. Not until now.

**
As he looked down at the operating table Luke noted the familiar red nose. He also noted the distended abdomen--hallmark of advanced heart failure. Without an operation, Angelus would soon be dead.

Luke held his hands over the patient, palms up, almost as though he was giving a benediction. But he wasn't. He was signaling everyone to wait.

"Let me see the patient's chart," he said to the surgical nurse. That was Bridget O'Hallaron, a seasoned professional who had worked with Angelus on some of his most celebrated cases. O'Hallaron had always been loyal to Angelus. Now she glared at Luke.

O'Hallaron moved her fingers in front of a magnetic screen and pulled up Angelus' chart. There it was: the lie that had been told so Angelus could undergo this procedure.

Luke addressed the nurse in a level tone.

"That date of birth cannot be right. Dr. Angelus is 82, not 76. Which means I can't perform this operation. According to the guidelines established by the Board, Dr Angelus is ineligible. The cutoff age is 78."

O'Hallaron's voice was tense. "Dr. Richards, this is Daniel Angelus. His name is on this building. He gave thirty years of service to the hospital".

Luke was cool. "Who filled out this form?"

"I did." The tips of O'Hallaron's ears grew red over the top of her surgical mask.

"Where did you get the information?"

"His wife gave it to me."

Luke couldn't speak to the unconscious Angelus. But O'Hallaron would serve as an acceptable surrogate for the esteemed professor. It was with relish, therefore, that Luke uttered the following words:

"We have rules. If Dr. Angelus lives, someone else dies, someone with a better chance at life. We have to be practical."

He turned to the staff and announced, "This procedure is cancelled. Ms. O'Hallaron will inform the family."

Luke turned abruptly and left the room. As he pushed the elevator button and waited for the "ping" that announced its arrival, he allowed himself one moment of smug satisfaction.

"That," he mused, "was certainly worth getting out of bed for."

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If you like to write, or would like to try your hand at writing, #finishthestory contest is ideal.

Each week the beginning of a story is featured by @bananafish. Sometimes guest authors write these pieces. This week @f3nix is the author. All of Steemit is invited to enter into the realm of imagination. There are few rules. A 500 word limit is suggested, but not mandatory. Any thread, any idea from the first part may become an inspiration to follow for the second author.
The name of this contest is finishthestory, but it's really about writing your own story that is connected in some way to the first. Accept the invitation to write, to become part of a community and at the same time demonstrate your individuality.
Finish the Story Contest--highly recommended.