Adapting Desires (Endangered Heart Series Book 3) by Amanda Lance Page A
Authors: Amanda Lance
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Emilia from driving off the road, Mrs. Levkin talked to her throughout most the drive back—via Bluetooth of course—updating her on Kasper’s condition and keeping her informed on every facial expression the surgeon, nurses, and anesthesiologist produced. They separated their communications only when Emilia stopped for gas and when she had to contact their landlord to say she would be leaving New York a day early.
Every so often, Emilia would catch herself biting her thumbnails, prompting Mrs. Levkin to ask her to repeat herself. The stress was at its worst when Mrs. Levkin was on the other line with Hartwell or Mr. Shiraz at the same time, and Emilia was forced to count the seconds before she received the answer to her questions.
Because of a sudden drop in his blood pressure, the surgeons were forced to stop the procedure a third of the way through. Apparently, startled and alarmed by this sudden change in his vitals, the operating team tried to give Kasper a small dose of epinephrine only to have his heartbeat continue to fall rapidly. When that didn’t work they began CPR with another large dosage of epinephrine. Still unconscious, they had gotten him stable and transferred to the hospital shortly before Emilia arrived.
Mrs. Levkin and Emilia spotted each other at the same time. In an instant, Mrs. Levkin tossed down her tablet on one of the waiting room chairs and Emilia dropped her phone in her bag—the two women running to embrace each other in a moment of solidarity.
“How is he?” Emilia sobbed. “Do we know anything yet?”
Mrs. Levkin nearly laughed. “Not since we spoke less than five minutes ago.”
“This is insane!” Without waiting for a comment, Emilia began pacing, taking care to memorize nametags with faces. “Hartwell called that cardiac specialist he went to school with, right? H-e should have been here by now! I don’t care who’s on call, with the donations Kasper has made, this hospital should have their best doctors here and waiting on him hand and foot.”
“Mrs. Zafar?”
Emilia turned to see a short red-haired woman wearing a white coat and carrying a thick clipboard walking over to them. With her smartly braided hair and thick glasses, Emilia hoped that the doctor, whose nametag read Dr. Hughes, was as intelligent as she appeared.
“How is he?” Emilia was almost bouncing on her toes to hear the news—bad or good, it was better to know than to not know. “What’s going on? How bad is he?”
“Hello, my name is Dr. Hughes—”
“Get on with it!” Even the normally polite Mrs. Levkin had had enough, waving at the doctor with her hands impatiently.
“Stable now. It does not appear to be a heart attack, and tests are negative for a stroke.”
Emilia’s sigh of relief could have knocked them over. She hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath for so long. Though Mrs. Levkin patted her shoulder gently, Emilia found herself barely able to breathe properly.
“We do have some questions.” Dr. Hughes lifted up a paper on her clipboard and moved her eyes as if carefully reading the information there. “On your husband’s pre-operation paperwork he claims not to have any prior heart conditions, nor are there any in his family history. Is it possible he could have been mistaken in that somehow?”
Emilia searched her mind but failed to think of anything. “I honestly don’t know. Both of his parents died when he was a baby, and he never knew his grandparents. He used to get the most terrible anxiety attacks with heart palpations—still does, though they’re so rare now…”
“Anxiety attacks?” For the first time, Dr. Hughes’s interest seemed genuinely piqued, and Emilia stared while the woman’s red eyebrows went up. “What kind of anxiety attacks?”
Emilia shrugged. “A typical anxiety attack: shortness of breath, sweating—”
“Heart palpations?” The doctor asked, cutting her off.”
Emilia swallowed hard as she nodded. Suddenly,
Every so often, Emilia would catch herself biting her thumbnails, prompting Mrs. Levkin to ask her to repeat herself. The stress was at its worst when Mrs. Levkin was on the other line with Hartwell or Mr. Shiraz at the same time, and Emilia was forced to count the seconds before she received the answer to her questions.
Because of a sudden drop in his blood pressure, the surgeons were forced to stop the procedure a third of the way through. Apparently, startled and alarmed by this sudden change in his vitals, the operating team tried to give Kasper a small dose of epinephrine only to have his heartbeat continue to fall rapidly. When that didn’t work they began CPR with another large dosage of epinephrine. Still unconscious, they had gotten him stable and transferred to the hospital shortly before Emilia arrived.
Mrs. Levkin and Emilia spotted each other at the same time. In an instant, Mrs. Levkin tossed down her tablet on one of the waiting room chairs and Emilia dropped her phone in her bag—the two women running to embrace each other in a moment of solidarity.
“How is he?” Emilia sobbed. “Do we know anything yet?”
Mrs. Levkin nearly laughed. “Not since we spoke less than five minutes ago.”
“This is insane!” Without waiting for a comment, Emilia began pacing, taking care to memorize nametags with faces. “Hartwell called that cardiac specialist he went to school with, right? H-e should have been here by now! I don’t care who’s on call, with the donations Kasper has made, this hospital should have their best doctors here and waiting on him hand and foot.”
“Mrs. Zafar?”
Emilia turned to see a short red-haired woman wearing a white coat and carrying a thick clipboard walking over to them. With her smartly braided hair and thick glasses, Emilia hoped that the doctor, whose nametag read Dr. Hughes, was as intelligent as she appeared.
“How is he?” Emilia was almost bouncing on her toes to hear the news—bad or good, it was better to know than to not know. “What’s going on? How bad is he?”
“Hello, my name is Dr. Hughes—”
“Get on with it!” Even the normally polite Mrs. Levkin had had enough, waving at the doctor with her hands impatiently.
“Stable now. It does not appear to be a heart attack, and tests are negative for a stroke.”
Emilia’s sigh of relief could have knocked them over. She hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath for so long. Though Mrs. Levkin patted her shoulder gently, Emilia found herself barely able to breathe properly.
“We do have some questions.” Dr. Hughes lifted up a paper on her clipboard and moved her eyes as if carefully reading the information there. “On your husband’s pre-operation paperwork he claims not to have any prior heart conditions, nor are there any in his family history. Is it possible he could have been mistaken in that somehow?”
Emilia searched her mind but failed to think of anything. “I honestly don’t know. Both of his parents died when he was a baby, and he never knew his grandparents. He used to get the most terrible anxiety attacks with heart palpations—still does, though they’re so rare now…”
“Anxiety attacks?” For the first time, Dr. Hughes’s interest seemed genuinely piqued, and Emilia stared while the woman’s red eyebrows went up. “What kind of anxiety attacks?”
Emilia shrugged. “A typical anxiety attack: shortness of breath, sweating—”
“Heart palpations?” The doctor asked, cutting her off.”
Emilia swallowed hard as she nodded. Suddenly,