Amanda needed a new heart and her doctor said she needed one quickly. “We only have weeks to save your wife, Mr Parsons,” he said to Simon.
It wasn’t a special blood group or anything that she needed. Just a normal, common, healthy heart. Except Amanda wasn’t yet sick enough to be at the top of the list, so they had to wait until she was, whilst sicker people got selected over her.
The waiting was agony. It if felt like this for Simon, what must it be like for Amanda, he wondered? Knowing they had to time things just right to balance sick enough to warrant a heart versus well enough to survive the operation. For Simon there just weren’t enough hearts becoming available. He decided to help in any way he could, whatever the personal cost to him might be.
He visited the ICU wearing a white coat as, he hoped, camouflage. Then he unplugged four of the machines and as electronic screams filled the ward, he slunk out.
Four or five a night, vary the hospitals, maybe get a better disguise. He’d carry on until one of these hearts finally found its way into Amanda’s chest.
Inspired by "Weeks to Save Euro, says Soros"