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"
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