Ice and Fire

Ice Queen.

Heartless Bitch.

Siberian Witch.

Jackie Frost.

Are just some of the more loving names my colleagues have given me throughout the years. Does it bother me? Fuck no! I care nothing of what people may think of me. I may be tough and even seem cold, but I get the job done and that is all that matters to me.

I’m a cardio-thoracic surgeon not a social worker or a shrink. When I ask you how are things, I am only being polite. Take for example one of the nurses in the children’s ward, I was stupid of me to ask about her night and right at this moment is blabbing to me about it. Going into details of a guy she met, of what they ate, drank and even talked about. The whole conversation without breathing once. She's even showing me her text conversations and pictures they had shared since their meeting. I have too many things to do and my time is precious to be wasting it on people that waste theirs talking instead of doing their job.

“Hum, excuse me…Jeannette, is it?” She bobs her head eagerly expecting me to comment, but I don’t. “I am sorry but I am not interested in your private life. I have work to do. Good day to you.” Grabbing my computer tablet, I turn and walk away.

She whispers loudly enough for me to hear, “Heartless Bitch.”

It makes me smile how people are so fucking predictable. You would think that with my sunny disposition I would be more apt to work with the dead than with children. Now why would I be someone you would expect? Where would the fun be in all that?

Today my day is going to be nightmare, I can feel it. It is only 10 a.m. and I have for the past three hours made my rounds, consulted and scheduled three operations for the rest of the week. Now I’m on my way to announce a young couple that their 5-year-old son is in need of a heart transplant.

I walk into the hospital room and the little boy upon seeing me stretches out his arms to me. My heart breaks to see such tragedy. Life sometimes isn’t fair. I put my arms around him and give him a small peck upon his hair. “Hello sweetie. Now how are you feeling today?” He smiles up at me and hands me his blanky, a nasty looking thing that seems to hold on to dear life by one single thread.

“Bobby seems better today. Doesn’t he look better, Doctor Thornsdale?” Bobby’s mother says hopefully with shaking hands.

“Mrs. Chace…”

“Please call us Lisa and Jim.” Motioning to herself first and then to her husband.

“Lisa, Jim…Bobby may seem better, but his heart is very weak. There is not much we can do and after all the different scans, blood tests and examinations there is only one solution…a transplant.” Lisa began to cry in her husband’s arms. I continue to play with Bobby. The poor angel is not even aware of what is going on. How can you explain to a kid that at his age his little heart is not working right and that he needs an operation?

“I know it's not easy to hear the word transplant, but this way Bobby will have a healthy new heart and will be able to be a regular little boy. Even grow up to be the man you have always wished him to be.” I took a few moments for them to hear my words and let them sink in. After Lisa has calmed some I said, “It is his only hope. Think about it. Here… this is my number, my direct line and my cell phone are on the back. You can call me anytime you want to, ask me any questions that you may have and if you have decided on what we have discussed, but do not take too long. We would need to get him on the transplant list. The sooner the better.”