“Junker!” I called to the old man. “I’m going to borrow that microscope!”
True to his preferred title of “genius inventor,” the old man did have some useful gadgets around. I put the sleeping Penguin Hat’s arm under the microscope and tied it down to keep it immobile. Then I focused the lens on the wound and adjusted the zoom.
There we go…I can see it! Under the scope, I could make out each and every vein and nerve.
“Bepo! Give me the severed arm!”
“A-aye aye!”
We placed the severed forearm and hand onto the tray. It was still properly cold. The cell structures were alive and intact.
I think I can do this! I picked up my needle and thread and began to suture. The most important thing was to be as careful as I could be. Any little mistake in what I was connecting, and it was all ruined. I couldn’t afford even the tiniest error.
Remember what your parents taught you. Remember the things you read in all those books. First, patch up the muscles and tendons. There we go. It’s looking good. Then reattach the nerves. If this doesn’t go right, he won’t be able to move his arm. I can’t be even a single millimeter off. They have to be perfect. Connect them quickly but accurately.
I was losing my sense of time. How long had it been since I started? Two hours? Three? Even longer? The mental exhaustion was intense. It felt like I was more likely to croak than my patient was at this point.
“Let me wipe the sweat for you, Law. It’s about all I can do.”
“Thanks, Bepo.”
“They’re not going to die, are they? They’re going to make it, right?!”
“Of course they will. Who do you think I am? I’m the genius surgeon…Trafalgar Law!” I said, copying the Junker’s favorite line in the hope that it would bolster my spirits. As it turned out, saying that I was a genius actually did seem to fill me with strength, even if it was just lip service. The operation continued. I sewed the last of the nerves together.
There we go. That should be right. Perfect.
My legs were about ready to give out, but I willed myself to stay strong as I focused on the veins. Attaching the veins…done. Attaching the arteries…done. Lastly, I sewed up the skin of the arm itself. Surgery complete. I toppled backward and crashed onto the floor.
“Law!” cried Bepo.
“Hey, Law!” said the old man.
I’m so tired. Why do you two look so worried?
“Watch the transfusion needles so that they don’t come out… I’m just a little tired…but I’ll be up in…no…time…” That was all I could manage to say. My relief at finishing the surgery surged through me with the strength of the sandman. As I fell asleep, I felt only the deep satisfaction of knowing I’d achieved the very difficult task I’d set out to do.
✦ ✦ ✦
When I woke up, it was dark outside. The first thing I did was check on the two patients. Both were still asleep, thanks to the effectiveness of the anesthesia. I took out the syringes and administered injections of a different solution, a nutrient mix my parents had developed. The patients’ pulses were steady, and they didn’t even have fevers.
Whew. They’re through the worst of it.
“How are the brats looking, Law?” Wolf asked me.
“You’re awake, old man?”
“Hmph. Can’t relax enough to go to sleep, knowing that someone might be dying in my own home.”
“It’s all right,” I reassured him. “My operation was perfect. As long as we’re diligent about preventing infection, they should be fine.”
“I see…” the old man murmured. “Well, that’s good.”
“Good? It’s surprising to hear you say that, given that you’re not getting anything out of this situation,” I said.
“Saving the life of a child is more than enough payment for me,” Wolf replied, looking away. His clumsy expression of kindness made me feel a little warm inside.
✦ ✦ ✦
Four days later, the two of them were conscious again. They had no memory of what had happened. Casquette Cap was weak because of the surgery on his abdomen, but if he kept his food intake light and rested up, he’d recover just fine.
My real concern was Penguin Hat. It wasn’t just that I wanted him to survive—if my reattachment surgery went wrong in any way, and his arm was permanently damaged, he could suffer a major shock.
“I’m going to take the bandage off now,” I said to him. “Then we’ll see if you can move your arm and fingers.”
“A-all right,” said Penguin Hat, who looked nervous. The old man and Bepo and Casquette Cap watched with nervous anticipation.
“Take it slow. Start with just moving them a little to see if the sensation is still there,” I advised.
“Okay…” said Penguin Hat, looking nervously down at his arm—the arm that might never move again for the rest of his life.
Twik.
His pinky twitched the tiniest bit. Then he moved his ring finger, middle finger, index finger, and thumb. After that, he slowly bent his elbow and lifted his forearm. It was a success. His nerves had been properly reconnected.
Ha ha! This doesn’t feel so bad. I finally understood a part of what my parents had tried to teach me—that “joy of being a doctor” feeling they talked about.
“Waaaaah! I’m so happy! I’m so happy for you!” Bepo wailed, hugging the kid in the penguin hat.
That bear is too friendly for his own good. He’s completely forgotten that these were the guys who were tormenting him!
Casquette Cap and Penguin Hat were quietly sobbing now, sniffling back the copious snot that mingled with their tears.
“Thank you…thank you!” Penguin Hat said.
“I thought I was gonna die…I was so scared…but thanks to you guys, I’m still alive!” wailed Casquette Cap, his face all scrunched up. He could still barely move.
“Oh, I just did it for a laugh. Don’t be so serious,” I said, turning away. I didn’t want everyone to see the embarrassing grin that was creeping across my face.