Anatomy of the Heart, Chapter One
Alternate Universe
Pairing(s): ElVin
Word Count: 4,018
Chapters: 1/15
Genre: Romance, Angst
Rating: PG-13
Status: In Progress
Warning: Language, Suggestive Content
Summary: Once a college sports star, Eli is brought down by the sudden and unexpected diagnosis of a heart problem. As he begins treatment and preparation for surgery, he meets an unlikely friend who will change his perspective on life, death and everything that happens in between.
The first time it happened, it was nothing. Passing out on the field wasn't completely unheard of. The day had been warm, and there had been too much steam in his shower only a few minutes earlier. With the recent increases in his training regimen and the fact that his body didn't like the additional exercise, Eli knew there was nothing really wrong. It was just a hiccup, a glitch. It was just something that happened to athletes every now and again, but it wasn't really something to worry about.
Except that the glitch kept happening.
Atmosphere reigned supreme at his next game. The roar of voices filled the stadium, combining with the scent of warm beer and overpriced hotdogs to drive tension higher. Edging forward just a little off the base, he was completely caught up in everything that was happening, fingers tapping against his thigh in time to the beat of the traditional music, every beat matching the raising excitement as the pitcher prepared his ball.
All it took was a split second, that silver-quick movement. Eli sucked in a sharp breath as he saw the pitcher move and watched his teammate swing, guiding the bat forward. The air cracked loudly and he ran.
Two steps, maybe three. That was all he managed before suddenly the world seemed upside down. He lifted his foot to run for home base, but the movement was cut off by a sudden flash of pain. The sounds of the crowd were drowned out by a loud, fluid rush of noise in his ears and his chest pulsed heavily. Something was wrong, and the wrongness increased as a chill shot through his limbs and an army of black and white ants battled across his vision. Then, he tasted dirt, and just like that the world around him faded to black.
Hospitals. He had never really given them much thought, and he had never really spent any time in them other than visiting family. His little sister had needed to have her appendix taken out, and that was the only time he could recall ever having been inside of a hospital. They always seemed depressing, despite being a place for healing. His opinion had not improved since his arrival. The ambulance trip was a blur, as was the series of tests and papers that had been flurried around his room.
Finally, when all the nurses had finished with their poking and prodding and the last of the paperwork had been signed, he had been left alone. All that remained was the utterly alien feel of the scratchy but too soft hospital sheets and the off-putting sight of the IV line that led into his arm. Outside of his temporary accommodations in a triage room, he could see hospital staff coming and going. Occasionally, a nurse would push some nameless piece of equipment past the door, not even bothering to look his way. How long would it take for the doctor to arrive? He had no idea, though he was sure it would be hours. That was the way hospitals, and especially emergency rooms, seemed to work, and that was doubly true if you had to talk to a specialist. They had told him that he had to talk to a cardiologist, an experience he was not looking forward to.
As soon as the word crossed his mind, his wait came to an end. A short man with thinning grey hair knocked on the doorframe and then stepped into the room, chart in hand. "Ellison Kim?"
"Eli, yeah." Eli stared at him, just wishing the ordeal was over. "That's me."
"I'm Dr. Sang," the doctor said, as though that explained everything. "Can you tell me your birthdate, please?"
"March 13th, 1991."
"Very good." The words sounded like high praise, as though knowing his birthday was some great accomplishment. Already, Eli didn't like him.
Clearing his throat, Eli shifted against the scratchy cotton of the sheets. "Look, the nurses were just in here a few minutes ago and I already told them that I'm fine and ready to get out of here. I was stupid and didn't eat breakfast this morning before the game. No big deal."
The doctor considered him for a moment, and it was clear from the look on the man's face that he didn't think that a missed meal was the reason for Eli's presence in the emergency room. Looking back down to the clipboard, Dr. Sang flipped through a couple pages of paperwork.
"When you answered the questions about your medical history, you said that you had a heart defect," Dr. Sang said, eying the papers. "And you play college sports?"
"Yeah. I'm there on athletic scholarship. Baseball. And the heart thing's no big deal. They told me it was called a, uh, VSD?" Eli struggled to remember the term. He had only needed to know it for some of the medical papers he had filled out for school, and it hadn't caused any issues with his athletic program. "Said it probably healed up years ago when I was a kid."
"VSD is short for 'ventricular septal defect,' and it might have." Putting the clipboard down onto the counter that occupied one wall, the doctor turned to look at him. He pulled a stethoscope out of his pocket and leaned towards the bed. "Do you know what a VSD is? Let me have a listen."
Adjusting the way he was sitting on the bed, Eli stayed as still as he could while the doctor listened to his chest.
"They told me it was a hole in my heart," Eli said, responding to the question he had been asked. "A little one."
"That's right. A VSD is a hole between the two lower chambers of the heart. Ordinarily, the heart would pump fresh blood the way it should go and send the used blood to the lungs for new oxygen. With a VSD, the fresh blood and the used blood get mixed together. The heart can't pump as well as it needs to, the blood doesn't go where it needs to go and when. That can make you very tired, make you have trouble breathing, make you faint. It can also make you very sick." Pulling back, the doctor looked at him as though the words should have triggered some sort of common sense reaction. "Most VSDs don't require any treatment, you're right. They heal up on their own, or are small enough not to cause any issue. However, yours seems to be the exception to the rule. Your family doctor should have noticed. They must have mentioned it when you had your physical for college. And you thought that sports would be a career choice? Aren't you ever short of breath or dizzy? You're here today because you collapsed."
Eli was slightly taken aback by the doctor's attitude. Even though the man was just giving him information, he felt as though he was being judged for his choice of college career.
"They told me it would heal over on its own, that I didn't need to do anything different than normal," Eli replied defensively. "And no, I haven't had any issues at all. It was something I had when I was a baby, but I'm sure it's gone by now. I'm probably just dehydrated or something. Can I get back to my dorm soon?"
Dr. Sang smiled. "I hate to break it to you, Mr. Kim, but it's not healed over. VSDs are easy to detect, and yours is very quiet."
Eli raised an eyebrow. "Quiet? So that's a good thing. Means I was right and it's practically gone, right?"
"Actually, it's probably the opposite. With VSDs, the louder the sound, the smaller the hole. In your case, the sound is audible but not loud. While I'll need to do some more tests, I'd be willing to place money on the fact that it's also the reason we're having this conversation. Have you ever seen a cardiologist about it before?"
"No."
"Heart defects are common. Very common, actually," Dr. Sang said matter-of-factly. "More than one person in a hundred has one, and that could be as high as one person in every four. That's a lot of heart problems, and yours is the most common. I'm surprised, though, that you've never seen a doctor about yours, or had it fixed. Most repairs are done with the patient is young, usually under the age of seven."
Repairs. That didn't sound like a good thing. Repair was something that a mechanic would do to a busted car, something that required duct tape and a lot of personal luck. Eli wasn't stupid. He knew that the cardiologist was probably talking about surgery. He hoped he was wrong.
"I'm sure it's not as serious as all that." Reaching up, Eli scratched his head, wincing slightly when he felt the tug of the IV in his arm. He had forgotten it was there. "And I really can't do anything to jeopardize my scholarship. I've got a game in three days. Just let me head home and I'll contact a doctor whenever."
"Mr. Kim, you passed out during your game today." The words were straight-forward, and they made their point. "Next time, you might pass out at the top of a set of stairs, or while driving your car. Will you at least let us run some tests to figure out if your defect is what caused the issue? We might be able to stop it from happening again."
Eli hesitated. "You're talking about heart surgery."
"Possibly," Dr. Sang said. Eli could tell that he wanted to help. "It's too early to know now, and there might be other solutions. Wouldn't you rather have the problem fixed, though, rather than continuing to have issues?"
"Not passing out would be good," Eli agreed, "But that could cost me my scholarship. Probably baseball, too. What about that?"
"Not getting it fixed could do more than that. At least let me run one simple, painless test. Then we can talk more."
Eli hesitated. The doctor was right; passing out on the field wouldn't impress scouts, and the last thing he needed was a reputation for being unreliable. He'd be benched for life. If this was something he could solve, he would be stupid not to check into it.
Chewing over his thoughts, he said, "Let's say there's a problem, okay, and I do need to... have repairs. Would I still be able to play sports? I mean, that's major surgery, right? That sounds like a big deal."
"You're very fortunate that this is the twenty-first century," the cardiologist replied. "There have been a lot of advances in heart surgery over the past ten, fifteen and even twenty years. Not only would you be able to play sports, you'd probably be better than ever."
A decision had to be made. Better than ever, huh? He didn't really have a choice. "Okay. I'll let you run your tests."
A test wasn't a commitment. It was just a test, nothing scary about it. He could do that. And if it would keep him on track for school, he would have to.
"First, I want to run what is called an electroca--"
Dr. Sang began to speak, but Eli only halfway heard the words. He put on a brave smile and listened as best he could. He did not mention how tedious his hold on his scholarship was, or that his family would be unimaginably upset with him if he so much as took a single day off for the flu. Pushing those thoughts aside, he resolved to stay strong. He had to take care of himself, and this was just one more thing he had to do.
One more step turned into two, then three, and then several more after that. The one test that Dr. Sang had wanted to run had made it plain even to Eli that he had a problem, one that would not resolve itself.
The tests had started with an eletrcocardiogram. They had instructed him to remove the hospital gown that had already replaced his shirt, and then stuck a series of electrodes to his chest. The spidery wires had crisscrossed over his skin for only a few moments before a technician had removed them, printed out the results and handed them off to Dr. Sang. The cardiologist had helpfully pointed out the problems in the reading, but all it looked like to Eli was a series of shaky lines. He had consented to a second test.
After the electrocardiogram, Eli figured that nothing could be worse than the strangely gummy adhesive of the electrodes. He was quickly proved wrong as an ultrasound technician came into the room and produced a large bottle of medical lubricant and didn't bother warming it up. This, they told him, was an echocardiogram. An ultrasound to look at the structures of the heart and get a better picture of the defect to start creating an action plan. To Eli, it just felt like an uncomfortable ultrasound wand being pressed against his chest and side a little too hard. He wondered if that was how pregnant ladies felt when they were getting a look at their babies, except he felt his heart was just a bit less exciting, especially since the pulsing grey and black on the screen looked like an unskilled chalk doodle to him. And it didn't even wave back. By the time they were done, he wondered if he would have bruises.
Before the echocardiogram had finished, Dr. Sang had joined the technician and begun the most frightening part of the ordeal. Taking the ultrasound wand from the technician, the cardiologist turned the monitor towards the bed and began to point out different parts of the heart's anatomy.
"These," he said, pointing at two dark areas on the screen, "are the heart's atria. And these are the ventricles."
"That's where the problem is?" Eli asked, still not comprehending and a little distracted by the fact that the completely smooth head of the wand was somehow pinching his chest.
"Yes. I'll show you." The wand was guided to the side of Eli's chest, jammed up against his ribs. Pressing a button or two on the keyboard, Dr. Sang changed a setting and zoomed in. Suddenly, a very loud pounding echoed from the ultrasound machine; his heartbeat. "You see these two structures here?"
Squinting at the screen, Eli saw two mostly solid lines of white that had a distinct black space between them. "Yeah."
Dr. Sang tapped another button, and suddenly the black space took up most of the screen. Now, Eli could see that it wasn't entirely black. Fluid, sketchy lines of speckled grey, rushed around in an intense hurry. He didn't know enough to know what was going where, but he did know that the darkness in the center was causing the flow to slow down, and he could see the stream that was passing between the two halves.
"That is your blood," the cardiologist explained. "And that is the hole in your heart."
Something about the sight was chilling. Eli looked away. "Jesus, that looks huge. How big is it?"
"About this big, probably," Dr. Sang replied. He held up two fingers and made a jabbing motion. The message was clear; both fingers would have fit through the defect.
"Holy shit. And I'm alive?"
Chuckling, Sang removed the wand and handed a roll of paper towels to Eli to clean himself off with. "It's not that massive, and it won't kill you. I've seen larger deviations in children. However, it will need to be patched if you want to continue with sports."
"Patched?" Eli asked. He thought back to the mental images of cars and duct tape.
"Yes," Dr. Sang said confidently. "If the hole were smaller, we might simply be able to sew it closed, but I believe you will need a patch. We take a small piece of material, like Gore-Tex, and use it to cover the hole in your heart. While that solves the problem, your body also does something remarkable. After a while, your own heart muscle will grow over the patch entirely. No more leaky heart."
"Gore-Tex? Like... isn't that stuff they make boots out of or something?" Eli looked at him like he was crazy.
Dr. Sang took it in stride. "Sometimes. This is medical grade Gore-Tex, and we'd need to see what option would be best for you personally before making a decision. There are other options."
"But regardless, I'll have to have surgery." It wasn't a question. Eli didn't even try to make it one.
"More likely than not, yes. I'd like to schedule a pre-surgical exam next week to get a closer look at the defect before I say for sure, though."
Pre-surgical. That sounded serious. All of this sounded serious, and it had happened so quickly that Eli felt numb. He knew there were questions that he needed to ask. Maybe details for his scholarship, or his insurance or whatever, but it was hard to focus on those kinds of details with words like pre-surgical floating around.
"How long would it be until I could play baseball again?" Eli asked. "Would you have to cut my chest open and... all that?"
He didn't like the thought of being laid open like some kind of anatomy specimen. That bothered him almost as much as the thought of having to miss out on his schooling and sports. School and sports were the only worthwhile things he had going for him. The thought of being unable to do either for half a year was the expectation, and one he hated.
"What if I told you that you could be back in the batting cage in eight weeks?" Dr. Sang said. "Less, if your body permitted it and you healed quickly. You might have restrictions, but you would be able to play. And all you'd have to show for it is a small scar, less than two inches long. Maybe next to no scar at all with the right treatment. No open heart surgery."
Two months? That was it? Eli blinked. "Seriously? How?"
"Please keep in mind that we still have to see what you need before deciding how to proceed, so I make no guarantees," Sang cautioned. "However, most surgeries like this are now performed less invasively. We may be able to go in through an artery in your groin, or possibly through your armpit rather than opening you up completely. Smaller incision, quicker recovery time and a better solution overall. Unless there was something abnormal, I don't see why we wouldn't be able to do things that way."
Eli had to admit that the last place he wanted a scalpel was anywhere even remotely near his groin. Other than that, however, he felt a little less anxious.
"Okay," he said slowly. "So what's this other test you want to run?"
"Basic blood panels," Dr. Sang informed him. "And a very fun procedure called a trans-esophageal echocardiogram."
Very fun, indeed. The procedure, as the doctor had explained it, involved numbing the back of Eli's throat and shoving a wand down it so they could get a better picture of his heart. Despite a large amount of past experience telling him that having things shoved down his throat wasn't something he should need a numbing agent for, he had still agreed to the procedure, which had been scheduled two weeks out. That had given him plenty of time to complete the paperwork he had needed for both his school and his scholarship. His family hadn't been informed; he doubted they would have cared. All that was left to do was take care of the problem itself, and that began with his impending ultrasound.
"I'm going to be a goddamn superstar," Eli muttered to himself, adjusting his seat in the waiting room. Dr. Sang's reassurances that he would breathe better, perform better on the field and never pass out while trying to make it to home base were the only real reassurances he had and he kept repeating them to himself. He hadn't felt all that bad before he had collapsed, and still wasn't entirely sold on the necessity of something as serious as heart surgery. Even if he didn't notice the effects during downtime, he certainly remembered eating dirt in the last game. He hadn't been able to play since.
"Superstar," he repeated. Glancing at a clock, he wondered how long it would take before they finally called him back.
More than a half hour had passed since he had checked in and been instructed to sit. He had long since been bored with the reruns of Law and Order playing on the small televisions around the waiting room. Instead, he looked around for something else of interest, but the lobby offered little distraction. Even the decor was boring. Warm, fake, peach-colored stucco gave the entire room a southwestern feel. He had to admit that the air was very dry. The only relief was a large, Romanesque fountain sunk into the floor in the reception area, trailing blue tile out into the rest of the desert waiting room. He supposed the water was intended to be soothing, and it doubled as a wishing well. A large sign beside the pool listed a well-known charity, as well as the surprising amount of donations the fountain had contributed to the cause.
The fountain was pretty, but it wasn't what had caught his attention. That honor went to the tall, skinny blond standing next to it. He was young, no older than Eli, and smiling like an idiot at the water. Judging from his clothes, he was an employee or visitor of some sort; he didn't look like he had just checked in for an appointment. However, despite the skinny jeans and sweater, he was wearing the most unlikely footwear. Eli blinked a couple of times to make certain he was seeing things right, but even his imagination couldn't invent the bright yellow baby chick slippers the fountain guy was wearing. At least, he supposed, they weren't crocs.
Amused, Eli watched to see if the kid would return to whatever job he had, or to go meet up with family. Instead, the boy reached into his pocket and fished out a coin. As Eli watched, he held the coin tightly in a fist for a moment and then threw it into the water. The idiot's grin on the stranger's face grew, as though relieving himself of money was the best thing that had happened all day. After a moment, the action was repeated as he reached into his pocket once more and retrieved a coin, this time rolling it between his fingers.
"Dimes?" Eli said curiously. That was pointless. Who the hell carried dimes around in their pocket? Unless the man had brought them there specifically to toss into the pond but, well, pennies were luckier. And, frankly, there was a donation box on the sign that would have been more useful for providing a meaningful contribution.
Intrigued, he watched as the stranger did the same thing several more times, tossing almost a dollar worth of the small, silver tokens into the water before he finally wandered off with a look of contentment on his face. He hadn't even noticed Eli watching him. The hospital was a dull, depressing place where no one wanted to be. And yet, that stranger was there, doing something just because he could, and he was happy about it. Thoughts of heart surgery, scholarships and a messed-up family swirled through Eli's mind. If only for that moment, Eli wished he knew how that stranger had felt as he tossed those dimes into the fountain.
"Ellison Kim?"
Hearing his name, Eli got to his feet and looked for the nurse that was calling him back. Glancing once more towards the fountain, he made himself a promise. If he survived the exam, he would find out who that man was.
Pairing(s): ElVin
Word Count: 4,018
Chapters: 1/15
Genre: Romance, Angst
Rating: PG-13
Status: In Progress
Warning: Language, Suggestive Content
Summary: Once a college sports star, Eli is brought down by the sudden and unexpected diagnosis of a heart problem. As he begins treatment and preparation for surgery, he meets an unlikely friend who will change his perspective on life, death and everything that happens in between.
The first time it happened, it was nothing. Passing out on the field wasn't completely unheard of. The day had been warm, and there had been too much steam in his shower only a few minutes earlier. With the recent increases in his training regimen and the fact that his body didn't like the additional exercise, Eli knew there was nothing really wrong. It was just a hiccup, a glitch. It was just something that happened to athletes every now and again, but it wasn't really something to worry about.
Except that the glitch kept happening.
Atmosphere reigned supreme at his next game. The roar of voices filled the stadium, combining with the scent of warm beer and overpriced hotdogs to drive tension higher. Edging forward just a little off the base, he was completely caught up in everything that was happening, fingers tapping against his thigh in time to the beat of the traditional music, every beat matching the raising excitement as the pitcher prepared his ball.
All it took was a split second, that silver-quick movement. Eli sucked in a sharp breath as he saw the pitcher move and watched his teammate swing, guiding the bat forward. The air cracked loudly and he ran.
Two steps, maybe three. That was all he managed before suddenly the world seemed upside down. He lifted his foot to run for home base, but the movement was cut off by a sudden flash of pain. The sounds of the crowd were drowned out by a loud, fluid rush of noise in his ears and his chest pulsed heavily. Something was wrong, and the wrongness increased as a chill shot through his limbs and an army of black and white ants battled across his vision. Then, he tasted dirt, and just like that the world around him faded to black.
Hospitals. He had never really given them much thought, and he had never really spent any time in them other than visiting family. His little sister had needed to have her appendix taken out, and that was the only time he could recall ever having been inside of a hospital. They always seemed depressing, despite being a place for healing. His opinion had not improved since his arrival. The ambulance trip was a blur, as was the series of tests and papers that had been flurried around his room.
Finally, when all the nurses had finished with their poking and prodding and the last of the paperwork had been signed, he had been left alone. All that remained was the utterly alien feel of the scratchy but too soft hospital sheets and the off-putting sight of the IV line that led into his arm. Outside of his temporary accommodations in a triage room, he could see hospital staff coming and going. Occasionally, a nurse would push some nameless piece of equipment past the door, not even bothering to look his way. How long would it take for the doctor to arrive? He had no idea, though he was sure it would be hours. That was the way hospitals, and especially emergency rooms, seemed to work, and that was doubly true if you had to talk to a specialist. They had told him that he had to talk to a cardiologist, an experience he was not looking forward to.
As soon as the word crossed his mind, his wait came to an end. A short man with thinning grey hair knocked on the doorframe and then stepped into the room, chart in hand. "Ellison Kim?"
"Eli, yeah." Eli stared at him, just wishing the ordeal was over. "That's me."
"I'm Dr. Sang," the doctor said, as though that explained everything. "Can you tell me your birthdate, please?"
"March 13th, 1991."
"Very good." The words sounded like high praise, as though knowing his birthday was some great accomplishment. Already, Eli didn't like him.
Clearing his throat, Eli shifted against the scratchy cotton of the sheets. "Look, the nurses were just in here a few minutes ago and I already told them that I'm fine and ready to get out of here. I was stupid and didn't eat breakfast this morning before the game. No big deal."
The doctor considered him for a moment, and it was clear from the look on the man's face that he didn't think that a missed meal was the reason for Eli's presence in the emergency room. Looking back down to the clipboard, Dr. Sang flipped through a couple pages of paperwork.
"When you answered the questions about your medical history, you said that you had a heart defect," Dr. Sang said, eying the papers. "And you play college sports?"
"Yeah. I'm there on athletic scholarship. Baseball. And the heart thing's no big deal. They told me it was called a, uh, VSD?" Eli struggled to remember the term. He had only needed to know it for some of the medical papers he had filled out for school, and it hadn't caused any issues with his athletic program. "Said it probably healed up years ago when I was a kid."
"VSD is short for 'ventricular septal defect,' and it might have." Putting the clipboard down onto the counter that occupied one wall, the doctor turned to look at him. He pulled a stethoscope out of his pocket and leaned towards the bed. "Do you know what a VSD is? Let me have a listen."
Adjusting the way he was sitting on the bed, Eli stayed as still as he could while the doctor listened to his chest.
"They told me it was a hole in my heart," Eli said, responding to the question he had been asked. "A little one."
"That's right. A VSD is a hole between the two lower chambers of the heart. Ordinarily, the heart would pump fresh blood the way it should go and send the used blood to the lungs for new oxygen. With a VSD, the fresh blood and the used blood get mixed together. The heart can't pump as well as it needs to, the blood doesn't go where it needs to go and when. That can make you very tired, make you have trouble breathing, make you faint. It can also make you very sick." Pulling back, the doctor looked at him as though the words should have triggered some sort of common sense reaction. "Most VSDs don't require any treatment, you're right. They heal up on their own, or are small enough not to cause any issue. However, yours seems to be the exception to the rule. Your family doctor should have noticed. They must have mentioned it when you had your physical for college. And you thought that sports would be a career choice? Aren't you ever short of breath or dizzy? You're here today because you collapsed."
Eli was slightly taken aback by the doctor's attitude. Even though the man was just giving him information, he felt as though he was being judged for his choice of college career.
"They told me it would heal over on its own, that I didn't need to do anything different than normal," Eli replied defensively. "And no, I haven't had any issues at all. It was something I had when I was a baby, but I'm sure it's gone by now. I'm probably just dehydrated or something. Can I get back to my dorm soon?"
Dr. Sang smiled. "I hate to break it to you, Mr. Kim, but it's not healed over. VSDs are easy to detect, and yours is very quiet."
Eli raised an eyebrow. "Quiet? So that's a good thing. Means I was right and it's practically gone, right?"
"Actually, it's probably the opposite. With VSDs, the louder the sound, the smaller the hole. In your case, the sound is audible but not loud. While I'll need to do some more tests, I'd be willing to place money on the fact that it's also the reason we're having this conversation. Have you ever seen a cardiologist about it before?"
"No."
"Heart defects are common. Very common, actually," Dr. Sang said matter-of-factly. "More than one person in a hundred has one, and that could be as high as one person in every four. That's a lot of heart problems, and yours is the most common. I'm surprised, though, that you've never seen a doctor about yours, or had it fixed. Most repairs are done with the patient is young, usually under the age of seven."
Repairs. That didn't sound like a good thing. Repair was something that a mechanic would do to a busted car, something that required duct tape and a lot of personal luck. Eli wasn't stupid. He knew that the cardiologist was probably talking about surgery. He hoped he was wrong.
"I'm sure it's not as serious as all that." Reaching up, Eli scratched his head, wincing slightly when he felt the tug of the IV in his arm. He had forgotten it was there. "And I really can't do anything to jeopardize my scholarship. I've got a game in three days. Just let me head home and I'll contact a doctor whenever."
"Mr. Kim, you passed out during your game today." The words were straight-forward, and they made their point. "Next time, you might pass out at the top of a set of stairs, or while driving your car. Will you at least let us run some tests to figure out if your defect is what caused the issue? We might be able to stop it from happening again."
Eli hesitated. "You're talking about heart surgery."
"Possibly," Dr. Sang said. Eli could tell that he wanted to help. "It's too early to know now, and there might be other solutions. Wouldn't you rather have the problem fixed, though, rather than continuing to have issues?"
"Not passing out would be good," Eli agreed, "But that could cost me my scholarship. Probably baseball, too. What about that?"
"Not getting it fixed could do more than that. At least let me run one simple, painless test. Then we can talk more."
Eli hesitated. The doctor was right; passing out on the field wouldn't impress scouts, and the last thing he needed was a reputation for being unreliable. He'd be benched for life. If this was something he could solve, he would be stupid not to check into it.
Chewing over his thoughts, he said, "Let's say there's a problem, okay, and I do need to... have repairs. Would I still be able to play sports? I mean, that's major surgery, right? That sounds like a big deal."
"You're very fortunate that this is the twenty-first century," the cardiologist replied. "There have been a lot of advances in heart surgery over the past ten, fifteen and even twenty years. Not only would you be able to play sports, you'd probably be better than ever."
A decision had to be made. Better than ever, huh? He didn't really have a choice. "Okay. I'll let you run your tests."
A test wasn't a commitment. It was just a test, nothing scary about it. He could do that. And if it would keep him on track for school, he would have to.
"First, I want to run what is called an electroca--"
Dr. Sang began to speak, but Eli only halfway heard the words. He put on a brave smile and listened as best he could. He did not mention how tedious his hold on his scholarship was, or that his family would be unimaginably upset with him if he so much as took a single day off for the flu. Pushing those thoughts aside, he resolved to stay strong. He had to take care of himself, and this was just one more thing he had to do.
One more step turned into two, then three, and then several more after that. The one test that Dr. Sang had wanted to run had made it plain even to Eli that he had a problem, one that would not resolve itself.
The tests had started with an eletrcocardiogram. They had instructed him to remove the hospital gown that had already replaced his shirt, and then stuck a series of electrodes to his chest. The spidery wires had crisscrossed over his skin for only a few moments before a technician had removed them, printed out the results and handed them off to Dr. Sang. The cardiologist had helpfully pointed out the problems in the reading, but all it looked like to Eli was a series of shaky lines. He had consented to a second test.
After the electrocardiogram, Eli figured that nothing could be worse than the strangely gummy adhesive of the electrodes. He was quickly proved wrong as an ultrasound technician came into the room and produced a large bottle of medical lubricant and didn't bother warming it up. This, they told him, was an echocardiogram. An ultrasound to look at the structures of the heart and get a better picture of the defect to start creating an action plan. To Eli, it just felt like an uncomfortable ultrasound wand being pressed against his chest and side a little too hard. He wondered if that was how pregnant ladies felt when they were getting a look at their babies, except he felt his heart was just a bit less exciting, especially since the pulsing grey and black on the screen looked like an unskilled chalk doodle to him. And it didn't even wave back. By the time they were done, he wondered if he would have bruises.
Before the echocardiogram had finished, Dr. Sang had joined the technician and begun the most frightening part of the ordeal. Taking the ultrasound wand from the technician, the cardiologist turned the monitor towards the bed and began to point out different parts of the heart's anatomy.
"These," he said, pointing at two dark areas on the screen, "are the heart's atria. And these are the ventricles."
"That's where the problem is?" Eli asked, still not comprehending and a little distracted by the fact that the completely smooth head of the wand was somehow pinching his chest.
"Yes. I'll show you." The wand was guided to the side of Eli's chest, jammed up against his ribs. Pressing a button or two on the keyboard, Dr. Sang changed a setting and zoomed in. Suddenly, a very loud pounding echoed from the ultrasound machine; his heartbeat. "You see these two structures here?"
Squinting at the screen, Eli saw two mostly solid lines of white that had a distinct black space between them. "Yeah."
Dr. Sang tapped another button, and suddenly the black space took up most of the screen. Now, Eli could see that it wasn't entirely black. Fluid, sketchy lines of speckled grey, rushed around in an intense hurry. He didn't know enough to know what was going where, but he did know that the darkness in the center was causing the flow to slow down, and he could see the stream that was passing between the two halves.
"That is your blood," the cardiologist explained. "And that is the hole in your heart."
Something about the sight was chilling. Eli looked away. "Jesus, that looks huge. How big is it?"
"About this big, probably," Dr. Sang replied. He held up two fingers and made a jabbing motion. The message was clear; both fingers would have fit through the defect.
"Holy shit. And I'm alive?"
Chuckling, Sang removed the wand and handed a roll of paper towels to Eli to clean himself off with. "It's not that massive, and it won't kill you. I've seen larger deviations in children. However, it will need to be patched if you want to continue with sports."
"Patched?" Eli asked. He thought back to the mental images of cars and duct tape.
"Yes," Dr. Sang said confidently. "If the hole were smaller, we might simply be able to sew it closed, but I believe you will need a patch. We take a small piece of material, like Gore-Tex, and use it to cover the hole in your heart. While that solves the problem, your body also does something remarkable. After a while, your own heart muscle will grow over the patch entirely. No more leaky heart."
"Gore-Tex? Like... isn't that stuff they make boots out of or something?" Eli looked at him like he was crazy.
Dr. Sang took it in stride. "Sometimes. This is medical grade Gore-Tex, and we'd need to see what option would be best for you personally before making a decision. There are other options."
"But regardless, I'll have to have surgery." It wasn't a question. Eli didn't even try to make it one.
"More likely than not, yes. I'd like to schedule a pre-surgical exam next week to get a closer look at the defect before I say for sure, though."
Pre-surgical. That sounded serious. All of this sounded serious, and it had happened so quickly that Eli felt numb. He knew there were questions that he needed to ask. Maybe details for his scholarship, or his insurance or whatever, but it was hard to focus on those kinds of details with words like pre-surgical floating around.
"How long would it be until I could play baseball again?" Eli asked. "Would you have to cut my chest open and... all that?"
He didn't like the thought of being laid open like some kind of anatomy specimen. That bothered him almost as much as the thought of having to miss out on his schooling and sports. School and sports were the only worthwhile things he had going for him. The thought of being unable to do either for half a year was the expectation, and one he hated.
"What if I told you that you could be back in the batting cage in eight weeks?" Dr. Sang said. "Less, if your body permitted it and you healed quickly. You might have restrictions, but you would be able to play. And all you'd have to show for it is a small scar, less than two inches long. Maybe next to no scar at all with the right treatment. No open heart surgery."
Two months? That was it? Eli blinked. "Seriously? How?"
"Please keep in mind that we still have to see what you need before deciding how to proceed, so I make no guarantees," Sang cautioned. "However, most surgeries like this are now performed less invasively. We may be able to go in through an artery in your groin, or possibly through your armpit rather than opening you up completely. Smaller incision, quicker recovery time and a better solution overall. Unless there was something abnormal, I don't see why we wouldn't be able to do things that way."
Eli had to admit that the last place he wanted a scalpel was anywhere even remotely near his groin. Other than that, however, he felt a little less anxious.
"Okay," he said slowly. "So what's this other test you want to run?"
"Basic blood panels," Dr. Sang informed him. "And a very fun procedure called a trans-esophageal echocardiogram."
Very fun, indeed. The procedure, as the doctor had explained it, involved numbing the back of Eli's throat and shoving a wand down it so they could get a better picture of his heart. Despite a large amount of past experience telling him that having things shoved down his throat wasn't something he should need a numbing agent for, he had still agreed to the procedure, which had been scheduled two weeks out. That had given him plenty of time to complete the paperwork he had needed for both his school and his scholarship. His family hadn't been informed; he doubted they would have cared. All that was left to do was take care of the problem itself, and that began with his impending ultrasound.
"I'm going to be a goddamn superstar," Eli muttered to himself, adjusting his seat in the waiting room. Dr. Sang's reassurances that he would breathe better, perform better on the field and never pass out while trying to make it to home base were the only real reassurances he had and he kept repeating them to himself. He hadn't felt all that bad before he had collapsed, and still wasn't entirely sold on the necessity of something as serious as heart surgery. Even if he didn't notice the effects during downtime, he certainly remembered eating dirt in the last game. He hadn't been able to play since.
"Superstar," he repeated. Glancing at a clock, he wondered how long it would take before they finally called him back.
More than a half hour had passed since he had checked in and been instructed to sit. He had long since been bored with the reruns of Law and Order playing on the small televisions around the waiting room. Instead, he looked around for something else of interest, but the lobby offered little distraction. Even the decor was boring. Warm, fake, peach-colored stucco gave the entire room a southwestern feel. He had to admit that the air was very dry. The only relief was a large, Romanesque fountain sunk into the floor in the reception area, trailing blue tile out into the rest of the desert waiting room. He supposed the water was intended to be soothing, and it doubled as a wishing well. A large sign beside the pool listed a well-known charity, as well as the surprising amount of donations the fountain had contributed to the cause.
The fountain was pretty, but it wasn't what had caught his attention. That honor went to the tall, skinny blond standing next to it. He was young, no older than Eli, and smiling like an idiot at the water. Judging from his clothes, he was an employee or visitor of some sort; he didn't look like he had just checked in for an appointment. However, despite the skinny jeans and sweater, he was wearing the most unlikely footwear. Eli blinked a couple of times to make certain he was seeing things right, but even his imagination couldn't invent the bright yellow baby chick slippers the fountain guy was wearing. At least, he supposed, they weren't crocs.
Amused, Eli watched to see if the kid would return to whatever job he had, or to go meet up with family. Instead, the boy reached into his pocket and fished out a coin. As Eli watched, he held the coin tightly in a fist for a moment and then threw it into the water. The idiot's grin on the stranger's face grew, as though relieving himself of money was the best thing that had happened all day. After a moment, the action was repeated as he reached into his pocket once more and retrieved a coin, this time rolling it between his fingers.
"Dimes?" Eli said curiously. That was pointless. Who the hell carried dimes around in their pocket? Unless the man had brought them there specifically to toss into the pond but, well, pennies were luckier. And, frankly, there was a donation box on the sign that would have been more useful for providing a meaningful contribution.
Intrigued, he watched as the stranger did the same thing several more times, tossing almost a dollar worth of the small, silver tokens into the water before he finally wandered off with a look of contentment on his face. He hadn't even noticed Eli watching him. The hospital was a dull, depressing place where no one wanted to be. And yet, that stranger was there, doing something just because he could, and he was happy about it. Thoughts of heart surgery, scholarships and a messed-up family swirled through Eli's mind. If only for that moment, Eli wished he knew how that stranger had felt as he tossed those dimes into the fountain.
"Ellison Kim?"
Hearing his name, Eli got to his feet and looked for the nurse that was calling him back. Glancing once more towards the fountain, he made himself a promise. If he survived the exam, he would find out who that man was.