C2 EMERGENCY SURGERY
Tara stood there, frozen in place, as she watched the doctors and nurses rush her mother into the operating room. The door closed behind them, and she felt like her world had been turned upside down. She felt lost, adrift, with nowhere to turn. She paced back and forth waiting for anybody to come and fill her in on what was going on with her mother. After what felt like a lifetime, a woman in a white coat approached her. "Are you Mary's daughter?" she asked gently.
Tara nodded, her throat tight. "Yes," she managed to croak out.
The woman put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm Dr. Singh," she introduced. "Why don't we sit down and talk?"
"Your mother collapsed because of a heart attack and she needs an emergency surgery. She needs a procedure called a coronary artery bypass graft surgery( CABG). To get around the blockage in her heart, we use a detour , in this case, another blood vessel to keep the blood flowing.
"In technical terms, we take a vein or artery from another part of the body, like the leg or arm. Then, we connect it to the blocked portion of the coronary artery, so the blood can bypass the blockage and continue to flow through the heart. The body can adjust to this change pretty easily, and most patients see an improvement in their symptoms after the surgery". Dr Singh explained.
"Okay, that's good, " Tara responded with a deep exhale of relief.
"Now I need to know if you have life insurance or any other means to cover the surgery cost?.
"I...I don't know, I'm not sure, I'll have to check." Tara stammered.
She couldn't believe this was happening. Her mother's life hung in the balance, and she had no idea if she could afford to save her.
The doctor's gaze was patient and sympathetic. "I understand this is a lot to take in," she soothed. "We'll do everything we can to help your mother, regardless of your insurance.
"Thank you," Tara managed to croak out. "Actually, this isn't her first time in the hospital, though last time she was awake and alert. The doctor we met then, told us she needed a percutaneous coronary intervention". The words felt heavy on her tongue, and she struggled to keep her voice steady as she explained.
"A PCI surgery is not only risky for your mother in her current state, but would also be less effective than a CABG.Now, I need you to sign some forms so we can stabilize her for now," the doctor urged, handing her a clipboard and a pen.
The doctor's words washed over her, but she could barely comprehend them. She tried to focus on the clipboard she was holding out, she took it and signed the forms mechanically, her mind still reeling from the news.
"Do you think you can get the eighty thousand dollars payment across within twenty four hours?" Dr. Singh inquired softly.
She felt dizzy and lightheaded as she stared at the doctor in disbelief. Eighty thousand dollars? There was no way she could afford that.
"I'm sorry, but there's no way I can get that kind of money," she replied, her voice hoarse. "Is there any other option?"
The doctor's face was grim. "I'm afraid not," she responded. "Without the surgery, your mother's chances of survival are very slim. We'll administer some drugs to her, but their effects are not long lasting".
Tara sank back into her chair, feeling completely hopeless. What was she going to do?
"Where could she get such an exorbitant amount of money?" she thought desperately.
"If only her mother had agreed to undergo the PCI surgery when she first had an attack," she thought, groaning in frustration. Instead, her mother had advised to save the money for the mortgage and not use it to pay for the angioplasty that the doctor had recommended. The consequences of that decision were now weighing heavily on her.
"A loan would take too long, and I'm not sure my mother has that much time," she thought, her mind spinning. "I could sell my kidney, but that would take too long, too. I don't know anyone who could loan me that much money." Her thoughts were spiraling, and she felt like she was running out of options.
And then, as if a light bulb had gone off in her head, an idea hit her. She could sell her body to the highest. It was a desperate, dangerous thought but it was the only fastest way she could raise the money.
She was no stranger to beauty, having been complimented on her looks many times. She had always been reserved when it came to men because of what she witnessed her father put her mother through growing up but she would gladly sleep with fifty men to raise the money , she was willing to do anything to save her mother.
"Doctor," she called out, mustering all her resolve, "I will raise the money you need by any means necessary. Please help my mother in the meantime."
As soon as she arrived back home, she felt the need to cleanse herself of all the negative thoughts that were cluttering her mind. She headed straight to the bathroom and turned on the shower, the warm water cascading down her body, washing away the dreaded plan. She took her time shaving, making sure to remove every hair, wanting to be as smooth as possible. After she was done, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself up in a fluffy towel.
She walked over to her vanity and began applying her favorite body lotion, taking care to moisturize every inch of her skin. She then reached for her most luxurious black dress, the one that hugged her curves in all the right places, and slipped it on.
She then spent a good amount of time applying her makeup, wanting to look her best for the night ahead. She started with a light foundation, followed by a bit of concealer to hide any imperfections. She then moved on to her eyes, applying a smokey eyeshadow, a coat of mascara, and a swipe of eyeliner. She finished off her look with a bold red lipstick, feeling like a million bucks. She took a deep breath as she stared at herself in the mirror, she felt a wave of self-doubt wash over her. She had never done anything like this before, and she felt out of her depth. But then she remembered her mother, lying in the hospital bed, fighting for her life. She straightened her shoulders.
"I can do this." She muttered with false confidence, made her way out of her apartment and into the night, she knew exactly what she was looking for. She wanted someone who would be willing to pay the right price for her impending shame.
_____
She got out of the taxi and stared up at the Club Delray , a place that held a reputation for being the most influential and exclusive venue in Los Angeles. with its towering glass windows and glimmering exterior lights. The doorman greeted her with a friendly smile and opened the door for her, revealing the lavish interior of the club.
Stepping inside, the thumping bass of the music hit her like a wave. The room was dimly lit, with neon lights and strobes flashing around the dance floor. Despite the crowd of people, she felt alone and out of place. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for what was to come. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and alcohol, and she felt a bead of sweat trickling down her back.
Her eyes darted around the crowded room, scanning the faces of the people who were lost in the upbeat music and hazy atmosphere. She made her way to the bar, the sound of clinking glasses and loud conversations growing louder with each step.
As she reached the bar, she leaned forward towards the bartender, raising her voice above the noise, "Gimme two shots of your strongest liquor," she demanded, her words slurred slightly by her nerves. The bartender gave her a nod with a flirty wink that made her lips curl up wryly.
Without missing a beat, he passed the order to her. She picked up the two shot glasses and downed them within seconds, but the alcohol didn't seem to have the intended effect of calming her nerves. She took three more shots in quick succession, the alcohol burning down her throat.
"Hey, take it easy," the bartender cooed with a smile, amused by her eagerness. But she ignored his warning and ordered two more shots. Just as she was about to throw the alcohol down her throat, a voice stopped her midway. It was a deep baritone voice that sent a shiver down her spine and made her turn around to see who it was.