Amidst The Scorching Flows

Prologue

"Scalpel." Dr. Fewster extended his hand as he commanded. I immediately took the scalpel, which was neatly placed and organized on the table, and handed it to him. The scalpel's cool metal fit perfectly into his palm.

Dr. Fewster is the assistant surgeon in this surgery. His hands hovered above the patient's head. I watched with anticipation, my trained eyes scanning the sterile environment.

He began to gently palpate the skin, tracing the outline of the incision with precision, his focus unwavering. I held my breath as he delicately sliced through the epidermis, dermis, and hypodermis, his movements a testament to his years of experience.

As the scrub nurse, my primary duty right now is to anticipate and provide the necessary instruments to facilitate the procedure. This required a deep understanding of the tools and their specific uses, as well as an innate sense of timing. 

Alongside the surgical team, our mission was clear: to save a life and keep our patient alive.

The OR was a battleground where life and death hung precariously in the balance. In this room, where lives are literally on the line, the enemy is always lurking—death itself.

One misstep, one mistake, or one miscalculation could be the difference between life and death. And that's why we can't afford to hesitate, to falter, or to fail. We're a team of warriors, fighting for every breath, every heartbeat, and every moment of life.

I stood at attention, ready to respond to Dr. Fewster's unspoken cues, waiting for the subtle nod or hand signal that would indicate when he was ready for the next instrument.

I watched with hawk-like intensity as Dr. Fewster worked, my eyes darting between the patient's body and the instruments on the table. Each tool was carefully cleaned and replaced with precision, a testament to the importance of maintaining a sterile environment. 

When Dr. Fewster's hand flashed towards me, I knew it was time to pass him another instrument. "Drill," he commanded, his voice strong but even, and I sprang into action, handing him the necessary tool with ease.

Our patient is 34 years old. He has a condition called brain metastases, which occur when cancer cells spread from their original site to the brain.

Brain metastases may form one tumor or many tumors in the brain. As the metastatic brain tumors grow, they create pressure on and change the function of the surrounding brain tissue. 

"The patient's bone flap has been removed."

Dr. Fewster and the lead surgeon, Dr. Wilson, switched places.

Tahimik akong naglalakad sa hallway habang hawak-hawak sa kaliwang kamay ang aking kape, as I made my way to the pending paperworks. Before I prepare again for another surgery.

"Nurse Rev," A familiar voice called out, making me turn around.

It was Nurse Julie, a friend and fellow Filipino nurse. She was walking towards me, holding a chart in her arms. Sinalubong ko ito ng ngiti.

"Kailan matatapos 'yong duty mo?" Tanong niya.

"Bakit ma-miss mo agad ako ?" I sarcastically respond to her. She eyed me with a judge on her face.

She raised an eyebrow. "Hindi, sino ka ba?" She joked, her voice light and playful. But I could see the corner of her mouth twitching, trying to stifle a smile.