Chapter 97 097
Danica’s POV
“Scrubs?” I muttered and Vera immediately helped me into it.
“Gloves?” She swiftly had a pair dragged over my two hands.
“Assistant Renee, the equipment?” I asked and she nodded once though I didn't miss the tight look in her expression.
“All sterilized” she responded anyway.
“Monitor?”
“All good!” Vera responded.
“General anesthesia?”
“Administered with care!” the nurse in charge muttered and I took a deep breath.
“Alright. Let's do this” I muttered sternly, and the surgery was immediately set in motion.
I immediately continued to arrange all ruptured nerves and bones immediately after making an incision. All internal bleeding stopped accordingly. The color slowly returned to her skin even in her unconscious state and I couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of my lips. The main surgery was concluded after I discovered a tiny tumor around her stomach. I got rid of that too, because if it was possible for female wolves to have their menstrual cycles, then it couldn't possibly be impossible to develop cancers. I was done with all that within an hour. I was able to save out extra thirty minutes for stiching, cleaning and disinfecting.
The monitor was as steady as should be, the bleeding was reduced to a safe minimum. Everything went smoothly, until it didn't.
Just as I knotted the last part of the stich, the monitor started fluctuating, the sharp noise of it's unstable recordings piercing through the air.
My gaze darted to the stitch lines and my eyes widened as I saw a thick flow of blood pooling around the lines.
Before I could even think, the stitch broke, blood splashing out and all over my face and the scrubs I wore.
I tried loosing out the entire stitch lines but the more I tried, the faster the recordings kept dropping on the monitor screen.
“What is going on?” Vera's panicked tone wasn't helping. Because this has never happened to me before and I'm panicking as shit right now.
“We need a blood bag, Doctor Danica!” Renee yelled and my breathing became labored, because this isn't just about a blood bag. It was the stitch. Even if we had dozens of blood bags, it would be a jinx if the stitches are refusing to hold still. And that is exactly what is happening here.
The surgery room was thrown into a frenzy within seconds. My heartbeat was pulsing hard, but I still kept fumbling with whatever. I couldn't let her die now. Not after every internal problem was already solved. That would be so painful…
“Gauze!” I muttered and Renee passed on plenty of gauze immediately, but what was the point? I knew I was threading on the thinnest ice, but I couldn't even think straight.
“Doctor Dan. The monitor!!” Vera screamed and just like that, it all went flat. All records on zero, all beeping sounds erased.
Everything went dead silent. Everything except my head.
My vision went blurry. I felt like I was drowning right on earth. The voices around me sounded muffled. All I could hear was the condemnation my subconsciousness had to offer.
‘You’re useless’
‘You killed her’
‘The same way you killed your mom’
‘You could have saved her but instead, you watched her die without doing anything’
‘You’re not worthy of being called a doctor’
The voices kept coming, and they were unmistakably right.
I really am a useless weakling, unfit to be called a doctor. When things get hard, I give up and act irrational.
“Get a fucking grip on yourself, Danica. Madam Ruslan is dead right now because of you! Because you couldn't even do this right!” Renee's voice seeped through my subconsciousness and I gasped, forgetting how to breathe completely.
“Just leave, Doc. Renee. She's clearly having a panic attack and you're blaming her like you did anything to save the patient! All you did was linger around her like a coward when the patient was still fucking breathing!” Vera's voice snapped but it was as if my brain didn't want to agree with her.
“I… I…” I tried to talk but I couldn't. It was as if I was being strangled but I wasn't even struggling to be free.
‘You killed someone!’
‘It's only right you die with them!’
The voices won. I deserve to die.
But just when I thought the end was near, the pressure on my lungs was eased. I could finally breathe. Slowly, but still breathing nonetheless.
“Breath Doctor. This wasn't your fault. You don't deserve to stop breathing because a patient did” I recognized Vera's voice as I traveled straight back into the surgery room.
Vera had an airbag over my face, her eyes holding fear and determination all in one as she stared right at my glassy eyes.
“If you stop breathing now, who will find out what really went wrong? You know you were successful. You're the master of stitches, and the mode of stitching couldn't have made it all go wrong. You know that more than anyone… so please, breathe. Just breathe okay?” She whispered urgently, more like she was trying to convince herself.
But none of that would have happened if I was extra careful. The stitching needle or line was infected. It immediately rotted the skin as soon as the stitches were done.
I pulled the bag off my face and staggered to my feet before rushing out of the surgery room, my tears flowing faster than ever. And the memories came rushing back just as fast.
My mom sprawled on the floor in the forest, choking and gasping in pain, repeatedly seeking help while I stood there, by her side, doing nothing to help. And now I had to watch someone else die in my own care while I still breathe.
It felt wrong. So wrong! I've never felt more guilty in my entire life.
I dragged my shaky legs out of the clinic. The moment I yanked the door open, I stumbled and fell hard, instantly twisting my ankle in the process.
Someone touched me, tried to help me up and I flinched, shifting back because the touch felt familiar. And I was literally a stain to his existence.
My teary gaze met Alexander's as I stood up with that injured leg, and I didn't miss the pain that crossed his expression. Maybe it was how I avoided him, or the fact that I couldn't even save the one person who was just as important to him as his mother. But either way, I caused him that pain.
Without sparing him one more glance, I rushed off, the sobs raking through me even harder now because my leg hurts really bad and I was dwelling on it because I deserved the pain. I deserved something more than just an ankle sprain. I don't deserve help from someone I'd just hurt badly.
So I fled. I don't even know where I'm going, but I kept walking. I kept running. Until someone caught up with me.