Seven hours I had been out cold, barely living on the uncomfortable bed inside the operating area. The doctors and nurses had worked around the clock, making sure that my vitals were still functioning as they began the operation. I did not envy them in any way; I couldn't never imagine a harder job in the world as a matter of fact. I hadn't even decided what I wanted to do for a career, but I guess now I wouldn't have to ever worry about that. I could keep dreaming that I could be a princess anyway.
As far as my mother were concerned, my operation had been a success. She now sat beside me in the hospital, waiting for me to come around, whilst a doctor waiting by the door anxiously. They didn't tell her what had happened, for fear it would destroy her. The operation had worked and I was alive, my secondary heart now beeping away inside me, but it hadn't always been like that. At one point during the operation, my heart stopped altogether, and I died.
They had only been operating on my for about 30 minutes when it happened, causing them all to panic, trying to quickly revive me. They had just cut open my chest, and were removing some of the body tissue surrounding my heart when it stopped. I went into cardiac arrest. The nurse at my head placed a mask over my mouth and nose which already had a tube coming out of it into a ventilator. She began pumping in oxygen manually, making sure my body was still receiving air even though my lungs had stopped. Another nurse filled a needle nearby with adrenaline and pushed it into my arm, injecting the dose immediately. The doctors around my heart couldn't perform normal CPR, when they manually pump the chest to get the heart beating again, so had to place their hand around my frail, small heart and manually squeeze it, contracting each muscle inside it.
For several minutes they worked endlessly, shouting orders at each other, demanding more air, more drugs, sweat pouring off them. They didn't dare give up, even when they made the risky decision to bring out the defibrillators. Having my heart out, already exposed to the elements was dangerous enough, but now sending a giant bolt of electricity through it was just suicidal. But I was already dead, so there was not much else more they could do, apart from try, and hope. They charged them up, before slamming them down onto my chest, my body jolting as the electrical charge coursed through it. My heart rate peaked with the blast, then flat lined again. No response. Again they pushed more adrenaline into my blood stream, forcing more oxygen into my lungs, every single one of them praying. Strike two, they tried again. A peak, then the flat line. No response. It was coming up to the ten minute mark. Only a miracle could save me, and save me it did.
As the count ticked over 10, the bolt of electrical energy hit my heart with a jolt, my whole body managing to lift off the bed before crashing back down. A beat. A pulse. A breath. A miracle. My heart rate began to pick up again, stabilizing, the doctors not dropping their guard. They all stood around, the various apparatus held in their hands, primed, ready, just in case. Finally, my body and heart rate became stable and constant again. They all breathed a huge sigh of relief, patting each other on the back, before quickly getting back to work. They weren't out of the danger zone yet, as they still had another 6 hours of the operation to go to install my second heart.
A small black box, no bigger than a small iPod Shuffle was placed carefully on top of my heart, before carefully being stitched in place. This was my second heart. A faint blue light began beeping steadily as the doctors carefully wound the thin, almost invisible wires around my heart, creating a small, electromagnetic coil. This was to make sure the electrical signal being given off by the box would react with my normal heart, and let my body continue to function and pump blood around should mine fail. Old people get given pacemakers when they have weak hearts, and this was a similar thing. It would help keep me alive, but it would not prolong my life for very long, if not at all. The doctors checked that it was all working, before beginning the long process of pulling the muscles back around my heart, and stitching my chest closed.
Even after my little blip, nothing dramatic happened, but the doctors didn't drop their guard, not once. They didn't want to risk losing me. Eventually, after 8 long hours in the operating room, the final stitch was strung, and the wire cut. The clock was stopped and I was wheeled through to a private room to wake up. I did look a little odd, a drip in one of my arms, connected to a bag of fluids, and a pipe jammed between my teeth attached to a ventilator. I looked as if i'd been in a car accident the amount of bandages I had tightly wrapped around my chest. They would get changed regularly to avoid my scar getting infected, but I would be free from them within a few days. The scar however, I would have now for the rest of my life. The same as the little black box with it's flashing blue light. That would be inside me now forever. It would probably outlive me too.
Not long after I had been wheeled into the room, my mother was escorted in. She looked as white as a ghost, her eyes red raw from crying so much. Her hands shook as she grasped mine, sitting herself in the chair beside my bed, holding onto me, waiting, praying. When the doctors saw how bad a state she was in, sick with worry, they knew better than to tell her of the little incident in the operating theatre. There would be another time to say it, should any side affects happen once I wake up. I had been out cold now for about 12 hours when I finally began to come around. My eyes felt like they were make of marshmallows, all squishy, not wanting to wake up. I could hear noise in the background, a radio was playing. There was an interview happening, people were talking, a woman by the sounds of it, and another voice. The voice she recognized immediately. No one had a British accent like that, nor was there any other man like him in existence. How could you not fall in love with a man like Tom Hiddleston?
Upon hearing his deep voice, my eyes opened and I immediately sat up. Considering that i'd just had surgery, it didn't seem to bother me, as I couldn't feel anything. My mum snapped out of her daze she'd drifted into and grasped my hand tight, her hand resting on my shoulder. "Jade, sweetie. You need to rest", she said flustered, alarmed at how fast I was trying to get up. The doctor who had also been sat in the corner of the room also came too, and walked briskly over to the bed, gently putting his hand on my other shoulder. "Jade, your mother is right. You have just woken from surgery, you need to take this slowly and carefully", he said strictly. "No Mum. I want to listen", I croaked, my throat dry and raspy as I yanked the breathing pipe out of my mouth. Immediately she nodded her apologies and left the room to get me a glass of water while the doctor watched me with fascination as I sat there, listening to the radio in the corner playing the interview. I wasn't really paying attention to what was being said as such, just more his voice. Tom's deep voice. I could never stop listening to a voice like that, so clear and confident, yet with a husky tone, that in the right kind of setting can send shivers up any spine. I'd grown so used to hearing him talking after seeing countless videos of him all over my Facebook page and in the Marvel movies that I'd just grown so attached to it. Like a dog hearing a whistle.
By the time my mum came back and I had greedily gulped down the cold water, the interview on the radio had finished, and the usual babble of the boring chatter ensued. "Can you turn it off now please? It's making my head hurt", I asked the doctor as my mum took the empty cup from my hand and helped me to lie back down. With a raised eyebrow, he obliged, crossing the room, turning it off so the room became silent. Well, almost silent. My heart beat could be heard as clear as a bell from a church, beeping away in the corner every so often, just to remind everyone I was still alive. The doctor stood at the end of the bed, peering over his glasses at me as I settled down, feeling exhausted. Surely I shouldn't feel like this after sleeping for so long; must be a side affect of the drugs I suppose.
"Miss Swan, you'll be pleased to know that everything went according to plan, if a little bit behind schedule. You have had your secondary heart installed and it will now continue to run inside you without trouble, so no more operations you'll be pleased to hear", the doctor said calmly, smiling slightly as he studied me. I watched him with fascination, not because of what he was telling me, but because the drugs still circulating in my system made it look like his white jacket was made of marshmallows; I don't even like them. "Good", I managed to say, feeling like my voice box had decided to stop working. My mum kissed my forehead carefully, brushing my hair behind my ear as I settled back into the pillows. "Do you mind if I ask you something?", he asked after a while of just standing there in silence, watching me. I nodded, not really caring.
"What made you wake up?". I couldn't honestly tell him the truth, could I? He would think I was crazy or something, but then he is a doctor, so he has probably heard and seen worse. "It was his voice", I replied, feeling some colour rise in my cheeks at the mention of it. Curse my public fangirling. "The man on the radio?", he asked, scratching his chin in thought. I nodded. My mum sat there a little confused, but still kept smiling, running her fingers through my hair. "Hmmm. And what is his name, the man? He sounds like an actor", the doctor asked again, looking seriously at me. I didn't really know why he was asking me all these questions now, probably just to check that I was okay and could actually speak and stuff. "Yeah, Tom Hiddleston. He's a really great actor. The best". The doctor laughed with me, and for the first time in a while, I smiled.
"Well, I won't ask any more questions. You'll probably want to rest. As soon as you are feeling stronger, we will allow you to go home". He smiled to me before nodding to my mum, before the left us alone. It felt like I'd ran a marathon I was that tired, but I guess it was just a side affect. "You look tired sweetie. Sleep. I'll still be here when you wake", my mum said, seeing how tired I was. She was right, some sleep would probably do me some good anyway. "Then while you are recovering here, I'll bring over all those films you love so you can watch them to pass the time. Then, when we go back home, I'll make sure you get the chance to do whatever you want. Swimming with dolphins, a holiday abroad, you name it lovely. I want to make sure you have the best time of your life before I loose you". She couldn't help but cry as she failed for words to finish, her soft smile cracked as she tried to hold back the tears. I wanted to ease her pain, to take it away. No daughter should ever have to watch her mother be in pain.
"Look, Mum. I don't want you to spend all that money on me that you have spent so long trying to save up. I know that you can't use it for me to pay for a car or to fund me at uni, but keep it. Please. Use it on Chris for when he turns of age in a few years, or treat yourself. Go on that romantic trip to Greece you always talked about. I know the postman still has the hots for you. The neighbours would never know. Please, Mum. Memories are worth more than anything, and I wouldn't want to waste a single second". I held her hand in mine, both of us emotional wrecks.
Neither of us wanted this to be happening, but now there was no turning back. The countdown had begun. I had 30 days left before the grains of sand in that time turner would run out. It would be the end of the line.
"Well, regardless of what you say, I want to make sure that you have the best time possible. Your school friend, the one with the ginger hair and freckles, he said that he phoned a charity for you. And he says that they will help make your wish come true". Her words were like the sprinkles on a cake, her smile shimmering through her tears. She wanted to make sure her daughter got her wish, but what wish would be up to her. "Mum .... I, I d-don't know what ...". She shushed me with a kiss on the forehead, pulling up the covers on my bed around me. "You don't have to say anything Jade. You are my princess, my daughter, and I will do anything for you. I love you so much dear". Our tears were happy now, smiling like the sun had just come out from behind the storm clouds. I soon fell asleep, with that smile in my thoughts.
If I only had once change, one wish left, then what would I want? I couldn't ask for items of value, like jewels or such, as they would be wasted, pointless. Yes, they would make me smile, but they wouldn't be truly special. As much as I know people would kill to get the chance to swim with dolphins, I didn't want that, or a dream holiday away in some fancy island. This was to be my last favour, my last wish before I would no longer live. The last chance I would have to satisfy my heart of its desires and dreams, to say what I want, to do what I want, to live how I want. In 30 days I will die. So in these, my last 30 days, I will live. I lay there, my mind thinking, my soul searching, for the deepest, most craved wish of all. The wish of a lifetime. One that I will never forget.
My one last request ... to meet Tom Hiddleston.
[ A / N : Thank you all for keeping with this story. I'm sorry if its dragging out a bit. I also apologies if it's making you a little choked up. It's making me bawl my eyes out and that's just with writing it. Please do keep voting / commenting / sharing as my fanfictions would be nothing with you, my amazing followers. Love you all xxxx ]