Page 92 of Dr. Brandt

“Doctor,” I started, hoping to God this man would allow me to assess my son’s condition and let me get straight to work.

“Dr. Brandt,” he said, his voice leveling me. If there was anyone who could put my ass into the mindset it needed to be, it was Chief. He was a seventy-two-year-old veteran surgeon with nerves of steel, and I respected him immensely. “You will not land and immediately go to work. Dr. Fremont confirmed that this boy is your biological son, and you and I discussed your paternity briefly after his initial evaluation with you.”

“Yes, that is all true.”

“Then you understand that while your son is stable, I need you to determine the proper protocols and decide if you can make the appropriate judgment calls as his surgeon and not his father.”

“Chief,” I said, “he’s my biological son. I do not—”

“Cam,” he interrupted. I could tell from his tone that I would not like where this was headed. “I also understand that you have recently spent significant time with him and his mother. Word gets around in this place, as you know, and I’ve been informed that there may be a deeper bond than a biological one.”

Most chiefs didn’t speak to their staff so candidly, nor did they give subordinates the chance to voice their beliefs about how situations, such as this unique one, should go. So sometimes—and I mean sometimes—Dr. Nguni allowed us some freedom to make judgment calls on our own.

I’d had at least an hour and a half to process this situation, and I could sense that Nguni was allowing me to argue my case about how and why Jacks would be safe under my care—whether he was my son or not.

I also understood that Chief was my voice of reason right now because my patient had fallen into a coma after I’d not pushed him hard enough to have surgery. It was my duty to Jacks not to beat myself up for not putting more pressure on him and his mother to make this decision.

But the God’s honest truth was that none of the scans or tests had revealed that Jacks could crash this hard and fast. There was no indication he was in such danger. I wouldn’t have let him out of our sight if there were.

Although this was a rare case, with the brain, anything was possible, and I should’ve expected the worst instead of hoping for the best.

“Sir, I am proud to say that Jackson and I have grown closer over the last month. Perhaps that is why I am driven to help save my son.”

“And why was there no encouragement for this surgery before your vacation?”

“Chief, you know that I would’ve canceled my vacation in a heartbeat if my patient wanted to go ahead with the surgery. I plan to follow every protocol, knowing that my Hippocratic oath will drive me to make all my decisions, not the fact that this is my son. I plan to assess him myself while working with my colleagues and the other professionals who may or may—”

“All right,” he interrupted me, half chuckling. “You don’t need to bullshit me with all that stuff. I know you’re a fine surgeon, Brandt. I just need to know where your mind is at. You know that we do not advise doing surgery on our loved ones. You understand this, yes?”

“More than you know, and I will ensure that it is not taken for granted that you’ve allowed me this opportunity, sir.”

“I just want to know that when you storm into this hospital, your head is in the right place.”

“I understand that, thank you. And thank you for calling on my patient’s behalf,” I responded.

“Fremont is still with him, and I will be at Fremont’s side until you arrive. It’s my day off, but I want to be here for you, the family, and our staff, as I know this will be felt personally. You have family behind you, Dr. Brandt. That is what makes us a unique medical team. So do not let your mind go there and feel alone in any decision you make moving forward.”

“I appreciate and understand that. Thanks, Chief,” I said, then hung up the phone and began to center myself.

There was no more room for emotions, and I fucking knew that.

Ring!

I picked up Jake’s call immediately.

“Hey, buddy. How far out is the jet?” Jake asked. “How are you and Jessa doing?”

“I’m pulling it together. Jessa is in the back and hasn’t said a word to me since we boarded, and she went into the private bedroom.”

“As to be expected,” Jake answered, cool as a cucumber always. “So, I’m not sure where your head is in all of this? Do you want me to run you down on what happened, or would you rather wait until—is it Dr. Fremont?”

“Yeah, Fremont is the attending physician until I arrive. Chief just called too.”

“Yes,” Jake answered, “I looped in Chief before he called. I hope the call went well?”

“It’s a good thing Nguni is as badass a chief surgeon as you are.”

Jake laughed, “Now you’re just fucking delusional, though I’ll take the compliment since everyone tells me I’m too young to be chief and that I’m lucky I even have hair on my balls.”

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