Page 15 of Bound to the Bratva
There's a long pause on the other end of the line, filled with a mix of shock and despair. Finally, Brenda manages to speak, her voice quivering, "What does that mean for him, Doctor? Is he going to die? Is there anything we can do?"
I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to give false hope or sugarcoat the situation. I hate it when parents ask me if their child is going to die. The cold, hard truth is that I am not God. I can try to save their kids, but sometimes I can't. What I will do is everything in my power to make sure they survive.
"Brandon's condition is deteriorating rapidly. We will need to adjust his treatment plan immediately to try and combat this relapse. Therefore, I need him to be admitted, Brenda. His chances are better if he's here. I won't sugarcoat this. I'm afraid it's going to be a difficult road ahead for him and for your family."
Brenda's voice quivers as she whispered, "Please... do everything you can. He's my baby boy. I'll bring him in tonight,"
I swallow hard, feeling an overwhelming sense of responsibility weighing on me. "Brenda, I promise you that we will do everything in our power to fight this. We won't give up on Brandon. I'll let my nurses know to expect you and run down the case with them."
As I end the call, I can't help but feel a renewed sense of purpose amidst the chaos of my own life. It's moments like this that remind me why I became a doctor in the first place--to make a difference in people's lives and help them through their darkest moments.
Once I have Brandon's platelets up I will suggest Chimeric antigen receptor (CAR) T-cell therapy. When he's a little stronger I think it could be a good thing to try. Luckily, the hospital is certified and I believe it couldn't hurt to give it a shot. Cancer is relentless, but medical advancements are being made every single day.
Some days I feel so helpless. All I want to do is be able to help these kids fight this illness. I want them to be cancer free, to live on and have beautiful lives. Sadly, it doesn't always happen.
But for now, I push those thoughts aside and focus on Brandon's immediate needs. It's a race against time and every minute counts. I send a quick email over to the nurse's station in the pediatric oncology wing so they know to expect him and get a room prepared.
I search my computer for new research, anything that could help me find a better treatment plan for Brandon. It should have been home an hour ago, but it doesn't matter. What matters right now is Brandon.
Thirty minutes later I get a call from one of my nurses letting me know Brandon has been checked in. I finish what I'm doing and get ready to go see him.
As I make my way to the pediatric wing, I can't help but feel a sense of trepidation. The weight of the world is on my shoulders, and it's a heavy burden to bear.
When I arrive at Brandon's room, his mother is already there, holding his hand tightly. Her eyes are bloodshot, evidence of the sleepless nights she must have endured while caring for her sick child, not to mention her worries and fears. I approach them with a sympathetic smile, trying to convey a sense of reassurance amidst the uncertainty of the situation.
"Dr. Zuyev," Brenda greets me with a mixture of hope and fear in her voice. "I didn't expect to see you tonight."
I place a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I couldn't leave just yet. I knew you were coming and wanted to see the two of you before I left for the night. Plus, we're in this together. Now let's see how we can make Brandon more comfortable and start with the necessary treatments."
Together, we go over the plan of action – discussing the potential to adjust his chemotherapy regimen, starting him on a blood transfusion tonight, closely monitoring his vital signs, and a few other things. It's going to be a long and grueling road ahead, but we won't give up without a fight.
Despite my obvious exhaustion, I stay and chat with Brenda for the next hour, making sure she feels a bit better. It's only then when I head for the parking garage and get back home.
I make it home and insert my key into my front door. As soon as I push the door open there's a light on and I know for a fact I turned all the lights off when I left.
Fuck. Who's here?
Did Maxim somehow find a way in? I wouldn't be surprised if he did.
I walk inside and keep my keys close to my side, slowly heading down the hall. On my couch sits my brother, Sasha. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Gee, at least now you're paying attention to me. You didn't even tell me what happened with Dad the other day."
I sigh, the weight of my long day settling deeper into my bones. "Look, Sasha, I'm sorry about that. It's been chaotic at the hospital lately. Dad...he's an entirely different story. The dinner wasn't anything related to Christmas. He and Tatiana wanted to let me know they've arranged a marriage for me."
I'm so tired that I don't even want to talk about this. But, I ignored my brother for a few days and set off every red flag in the process.
Sasha is completely thrown off guard, his piercing blue eyes filled with concern. "Whoa. You're fucking with me, right?"
I collapse onto the couch beside Sasha, feeling the exhaustion seep through my body. "No, I'm not. He didn't just arrange a random marriage. He arranged mine, and without speaking to me. I'm going to be marrying Maxim Volkolv,"
He raises his brows, "You have to be joking. The Volkolv family is at the top of the food chain."
"No, I'm not kidding. Supposedly, I'm being married to him because a Brazilian cartel tried to have me killed and Dad had his men kill the people that person sent. The Volkolvs have some sort of reach with the cartel, and to return the favor Dad offered me up. But that's not all. Vera Volkolv is marrying the son of the Brazilian cartel leader,"
"Has hell frozen over or something?"
I shrug and groan, "Who knows. What I do know is that I'm somehow caught in the crossfire."
