A.A.A. #1

In the afternoon, W. collapsed. An ambulance swiftly carried him to the nearest memorial hospital. First it was low blood pressure, then it was an aortic aneurysm in the stomach. The blood in his body rushed to his stomach, leaving it distended. The ruptured aorta spurted the blood from the cardiovascular system, leaving him gray-skinned and light-headed. After receiving medication for the pain and regaining consciousness, the emergency room doctor gave him his ultimatum. There was nobody else in the room.

“Listen,” he started. “There’s no two ways to say it. You have two options here. I can give you enough morphine to let you pass quietly in the night. Or we can transfer you to a hospital thirty minutes north. They can attempt a risky surgery, but there’s a very high mortality rate. Over 90%. You likely won’t make it. But you have to decide now, there isn’t much time.”

Still lightheaded from the day, and numbed from the medication, W. responded with muscle memory: “There’s only one option. Give me the surgery.”