The Surgeon by Leslie Wolfe EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Leslie Wolfe
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Genre: Psychological Fiction
- Price: Free
- File Size: 2 MB
- Publish Date: March 11, 2023
THE PATIENT
What have I done?
The thought races through my mind, searing and weakening my body.
The rush of adrenaline fills my muscles with the urge to run, to escape, but
there’s nowhere to go. Shaky and weak, I let myself slide to the floor; the
cold, tiled wall against my back the only support I have. For a moment, I
stare at my hands, barely recognizing them, as if I’d never before seen them
sheathed in surgical gloves covered with blood.
They feel foreign to me: a
stranger’s hands attached to my body by some inexplicable mistake.
A faint, steady beep is sounding incessantly over the constant whoosh of
air conditioning. I wish I could summon the strength to ask them to turn it
off. The operating room is at a standstill, all eyes riveted on me, widened and
tense above face masks.
Only one pair of eyes is glaring, drilling into mine whenever there’s a
chance, the steel-blue irises deathly cold behind thick lenses and a face
shield. Dr. Robert Bolger, still seated by the anesthesia machine, doesn’t need
to say anything. We’ve said to each other everything that needed to be said.
Too much, even.
“Turn that thing off,” Madison whispers. Lee Chen presses a button, and
the ghastly sound is muted. Then she approaches me and crouches by my
side. Her hand reaches for my shoulder but stops short of touching me. “Dr.
Wiley?” she whispers, her hand still hovering. “Anne? Come on, let’s go.”
I shake my head slowly, staring at the floor. I remember with perfect
accuracy the properties of the polymer coating they apply on all the operating
room floors. Useless information taking space in my brain for no reason,
since I’m the surgeon, the end user of these blue mosaic floors, not someone
who decides what coating should be used.
“Anne?” Madison says my name again, her voice reassuring, filled with
warmth.
“No,” I whisper back. “I can’t.”
A bloody lap sponge has fallen from the table, staining the pristine floor
inches away from the tip of my right foot. I fold my leg underneath me,
staring at the sponge as if the bloodstain on it could come after me.
Madison withdraws under the fuming glare of Dr. Bolger.
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