Page 152 of Let the Game Begin
“Neil, please!” Mia burst into tears again, but he just raged harder. It was a disturbing scene.
“What is going on here?” a doctor with an arrogant air asked disdainfully as he approached, regarding Neil warily.
“Let me see my brother!” he shouted again. His golden eyes, shiny with pain, darted to the doctor who maintained his cold-blooded expression.
“Son, try to calm down,” he told Neil. “Do you know how many people I see in this place every single day, crying their eyes out while their loved ones fight for their lives?”
“Calm down?! It’s not your brother lying in a hospital bed! Let mefucking see him! Now!” Neil screamed, grabbing the doctor by the lapels of his white coat.
My father and the nurses stopped him, wrapping their arms around him, but Neil was more than six feet of beast, powerful and impossible to control. He threw off their grasps roughly, and still holding on to the doctor’s coat, he shouted again, “Don’t touch me!”
He was completely out of his mind. His forehead was covered in sweat, the veins in his neck were standing out sharply. His black sweatshirt pulled tight over his tensed biceps, and his sweatpants similarly strained against his quads and calves.
“Call security!” the doctor instructed the nurses.
“I’m not some maniac! I just want to see him!” Neil screamed again. “And don’t get any closer, or I’ll tear you a new asshole, motherfucker!” he shouted at a security guard who had rushed over to stop him.
“Neil, listen to me.” My father took him by the shoulder and dragged him over to a distant corner.
“No, Matt! Let me go!” His screams were heartrending; they were so full of fear and pain, and I felt so helpless. There was nothing I could do to make him feel better.
Seeing him this way hurt me: His chest heaved frenetically, his disheveled hair was plastered to his forehead, and his eyes were full of anger but also fear.
“Neil, listen carefully to me.” My father grabbed his face in both hands and stared deep into his eyes. “Logan’s in surgery right now. They cannot let you in. You’ll see him as soon as they are done. I give you my word,” he said kindly, trying to comfort him.
Neil swallowed and stared at him, breath still coming in pants.
“He has a head injury and internal bleeding,” Matt went on. “He has a compound fracture to the femur and one of his lungs was at risk of collapsing. That’s why they have to operate on him,” he finished wretchedly while Neil seemed to be in total shock.
Just then, a different doctor approached us, peeling off his mask and gloves as he did so. Mia leaped to her feet while the man just looked at us in silence.
Neil bypassed everyone else and approached him.
“How is he?” he demanded, alarmed, as the doctor continued to look at the group of us, probably searching for the right words to explain everything to us.
“The boy is in critical condition,” the doctor said gravely. We all rushed over to him, and I instinctively positioned myself next to Neil, squeezing his arm. I didn’t even know why I did it, I just knew that, in that moment, I needed him.
“What does that mean? Explain in detail,” my father said. The doctor scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed.
“He’s in a coma for the moment. We’ve stopped the internal bleeding, but unfortunately, he is experiencing pulmonary collapse,” he answered with a polite, albeit saddened look on his face.
“Pulmonary collapse?” my father echoed.
“What does that mean?” Mia sobbed, lifting her hands to her face.
“Pneumothorax or lung collapse occurs when air escapes from the lung—in this case due to major trauma—and gets trapped between the chest wall and the lung itself. The increased pressure causes part or all of the lung to collapse and the patient cannot breathe properly,” the doctor explained in a professional tone.
“Did you perform a needle aspiration to get the air out of his chest?” Matt interjected, demonstrating his expertise in this field. The doctor’s face clearly showed his surprise.
“Yes, of course. We’ve also surgically inserted a fiber-optic camera and searched for the air leak so we could seal it…but… Are you a doctor?” the man asked, frowning slightly.
“Yes, I’m a surgeon. Could I take a look at his chart?” Matt proposed, hastily shedding his jacket.
“Of course. If you scrub up, I’ll take you into the OR,” Logan’s doctor answered before turning back to the rest of us. “Wait here; we’ll have more information for you later,” he said, turning to leave.
“Matt!” Neil reached out and caught my father’s arm, pulling away from me. “I have never begged anyone for anything, and I never thought I’d need to, but please save him,” Neil pleaded, looking into Matt’s eyes.Matt touched the side of Neil’s face and smiled at him, like a father would do with his actual son.
“I’m going to go,” he murmured and said nothing further.
