The Cassini Code by Dom Testa

Author:Dom Testa
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2008-11-05T16:00:00+00:00

19

Her Zen place; that’s how Alexa had said she dealt with blood. She went into her Zen place.

Lita had never been bothered by the sight of blood, until, she realized, it belonged to a close friend. Now she understood exactly what Alexa had meant about the need to somehow detach from the situation. Yet how to detach and still maintain control? What place was this, Zen or otherwise, that offered relief from the pain, the pressure, the weight of responsibility?

Lita felt a catch in her throat and swallowed hard, partly to stifle the stab of grief at her friend’s condition, but also to staunch the rising alarm that she had missed something. The surgery had progressed exactly as it had been spelled out in all of the tutorials she had scanned. The programmed video guide had directed her through every step, and she had made sure to not rush anything, to follow each stage precisely as instructed. She had total confidence in her thoroughness.

So why did she have this feeling?

Nerves, she told herself. That’s all, just nerves.

The monitors flashed their steady reports: pulse, blood pressure, breathing. Everything looked fine. Lita looked quickly at Alexa’s face, so calm and serene. In this unconscious state there was no pain. Would there be dreams?

The thought made Lita pause. She had read that some people did experience dreams during anesthesia, and thankfully most were pleasant. Alexa looked content and peaceful, which made Lita feel somewhat better, but who could say what images were flashing through Alexa’s mind during this down time? The idea fascinated Lita.

She shifted her gaze to stare down at the small incision, amazed once again at the incredible machine that was the human body. The appendix was out, the abdominal area had been inspected for bleeding and any pockets of infection, and then had been washed out with a saline solution. It was time to close up.

Lita thought about the progress of medical science. In the old days she would have been sewing up her patient, and later might have evolved to stapling. But today she was fortunate to have a technique similar to gluing, which would leave no scar on Alexa’s abdomen. In less than two minutes she was finished.

Lita set down the instrument she had been using and exhaled. One of her assistants looked up and made eye contact. Even through the mask, Lita could tell that her face held a big smile.

For the next minute there was an exchange of congratulations and heavy sighs. Things were cleaned up, carts were wheeled out of the way, and Lita made one more inspection of the wound. “Okay,” she said, “let’s wake her up.”

Another assistant, Manu, adjusted the mixture of gases into Alexa’s clear mask, checking and double-checking the figures that spilled across the vidscreen. Lita stepped back and pulled down her surgical mask. The monitors continued to relay a healthy set of vital signs. She walked across the room and stripped off her gloves. In the background she heard the assistant softly calling Alexa back to consciousness.

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