Page 59 of Always Be an Us

Dr. Han smiles wanly. "It sounds a lot more gruesome than it actually is. You’ll be unconscious for most of it, and afterward, the recovery is very straightforward. You'll only feel fatigue and soreness sometimes, or what some people have described as a sharp, uncomfortable intermittent sensation. You'll need to stay off your feet for a few weeks, but otherwise, you should be mostly feeling good in about twelve weeks."

My grandfather presses his lips, but I can still sense the nerves in his eyes. I draw my sweater closer, feeling a sudden chill permeate my bones.

"What are the odds of me not making this out alive?" Grandpa asks suddenly, and fear spikes through my heart.

"Don’t think like that," I say, sharply.

"They’re cutting into me like a rotisserie chicken, Emma Jane. I can think however I damn well want."

Dr. Han holds up a reassuring hand. "It’s very safe. One of the most common heart surgeries actually, with manageable potential complications. We've perfected this surgery, and we have all the cutting-edge equipment here at the hospital."

"How many of these have you done?" Grandpa asks.

"In my lifetime? Probably a hundred."

"And how many of those patients died?"

Dr. Han shuts his mouth, not looking like he wants to answer that question. He throws me a look that seems to ask for help.

I reach out and take Grandpa's cool hand in mine.

"You’ll be fine," I assure him.

When Grandpa's gaze meets mine, it instantly grows firm and he puffs out his chest a little as he says, "Of course, I will be. A little surgery isn’t going to take out this old man."

"That's what we like to hear," Dr. Han says, grinning at Grandpa. In Grandpa’s short stay, it seems Dr. Han has become somewhat fond of him.

The good doctor only moved to town a few years ago, and apparently, Grandpa has been using his daily check-ins as an excuse to catch Dr. Han up on the lore of the Pink Pearl.

"So if everything is understood, let’s begin the process." Dr. Han claps his gloved hands and gestures to me. "Do you have other questions?"

"Yes," I respond. "You touched on it a little but what's the healing process going to be like?"

"Ah yes. He’ll likely have to stay in the hospital for several days to weeks depending on how the surgery goes. Like I said, most of it will be spent resting and staying off his feet. After about a week, he can probably go on short walks, but nothing too strenuous. And then he’ll begin PT sessions after a few weeks. He'll also have to be very careful with his diet from now on. That means watching his cholesterol and salt intake. I'll provide you a meal plan and refer you to a dietician who can help you."

"Oh, alright. Thank you."

Dr. Han nods and waits for any other questions, glancing at Grandpa. When none are forthcoming, he asks, "Are you ready?"

Grandpa and I share a look, and I then swallow. Neither of us are ready. We might never be.

I give him a brave smile that I hope hides my apprehension about this entire process. I’m trying to be strong for him, but the truth is that I’m terrified too. I almost wish Dr. Han hadn’t explained the process in such detail, even though I know he was only trying to help.

Because now all I can see is the scalpel cutting through the muscles of Grandpa's chest, his leg, and God knows where else. I see the blood flowing from him, and an endless river of red rivuleting onto the ground.

I imagine his eyes shut forever and I want to die.

I just got him back. It's easy to look at Grandpa now and forget about the terror I felt when he was unconscious.

He looks much better. He's not as pale or wan as before. It's easy to feel like things can return to how they were, without the surgery.

But then every once in a while, Grandpa will cough or rub his chest, and I'll be reminded that not everything is as it seems.

"I suppose we don’t have a choice," Grandpa says.

"We're ready." I rise and squeeze his hand for the last time, holding it as Dr. Han calls in some nurses to wheel Grandpa out through the doors and toward the operating room at the end of the hall. The whole time I hold Grandpa's gaze and try to transmit whatever telepathic reassurances I can.

He does the same to me.

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