Page 33 of Broken Dream
“It’s for individuals with extraordinary ability in their field, such as internationally recognized surgeons with significant accomplishments or publications. The hospital is sponsoring her research.”
“So she’s familiar with my case?”
“Yes. I took the liberty of sharing your file with her. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Are you kidding me? Of course not.”
“Good. It was for a consult, so no HIPAA worries.”
“Louisa, I’m not the least bit concerned about any of that.”
“I know.”
“But what are the chances?” I ask, my voice shaking.
My mind reels with the possibilities. To hold a scalpel again, to feel its cool metal against my skin, to operate on a living body…
“No guarantees, of course,” she says. “But Dr. Patel is optimistic after looking through your records. It’s not confirmed until we run some tests on you and match nerve types. But there’s a fairly good chance this could work.”
My mind whirls.
Is it possible?
To have my hand back, to once again perform surgeries…
I feel like I’m waking up from a nightmare.
I look at the covered cadavers sitting on the tables, waiting for the students to learn from them. “What kind of tests? And are we talking a nerve from a live donor or from a cadaver?”
“We’ll need to do some extensive nerve conduction studies and MRI scans,” Louisa says. “As for the donor… It’s a bit of both. The nerve graft is extracted from a cadaver, but it’s reanimated using living cells derived from your own body.”
I shiver as a chill rushes through me.
I’ve read about such things. It’s cutting edge, for sure. “Reanimated? How does that even work?”
“It’s complex,” she says. “Dr. Patel will explain it all when you meet her. But in essence, we take your cells, nurture them in a lab, and coax them into becoming nerve cells. These are then integrated with the cadaver’s nerve tissue.”
I resist the urge to blurt out that it all sounds like something straight out of science fiction. Again, I stare at the cadavers.
They’re learning tools. Tools that were once people.
That’s how we learn.
How doctors learn.
A cadaver like one of these might be able to save my career.
“Jason?”
“Yes,” I say, my voice breathless. “When can I meet Dr. Patel?”
“Can you come to the hospital this afternoon, around four?” Louisa asks.
I glance at the clock. The students will be here soon. “That should work,” I say. “Unless you can see me sooner?”
“Well…I have time now, and Dr. Patel is in the building. But didn’t you say you were about to teach a lab?”
“Yeah, but I’ll cancel. This is way more important.”
