Danielle Steel - Changes

“Can you hold the flight for me for ten minutes? I've got to call New York on a big story.” The supervisor didn't look pleased, but for people of Mel's rank they often did special favors, like find them seats on fully booked flights, even if it meant bumping some unsuspecting passenger off the plane, or holding a flight just before takeoff, like this one.

“I'll give you ten minutes, but I can't give you much more than that.” It cost the airlines a fortune to pull stunts like that and delay on the ground. She turned away from Mel then and spoke into the small walkie-talkie she carried as Mel ran back to the pay phone, and put the call on her credit card. They got her through to the newsroom right away but it took four precious minutes to find an assistant producer and a story editor, who conferred with Mel on the phone.

“What's up?”

“A real break. One of the people I interviewed was a patient waiting for a transplant. And I just got a call from Hallam. They've got a donor, and they're going to operate now. Can I stay and take a camera crew back out.to Center City to film the operation?” She was breathless from the excitement and from running to the phone.

“Didn't you shoot him in surgery before?”

“No.” She held her breath, knowing that could decide it all.

“Then stay. But get your ass home tomorrow night.”

“Yes, sir.” She grinned as she hung up the phone, and hurried back to the gate.

She told them she wasn't taking the flight and then called the local network for a camera crew. She hurried outside for a cab then, hoping that the airline would hold on to her bag in New York, as they'd promised to.

The camera crew was waiting for her in the lobby when she arrived, and they went straight upstairs to surgery. They all had to scrub, don masks and gowns, and they had been assigned a minuscule corner of the room which they had to confine their equipment to. But Mel was vehement about following the rules, she was grateful that Peter let them be there at all and she didn't want to abuse the privilege.

And, at last, wheeled into the room on a stretcher with the side rails up, Marie appeared. Her eyes were closed, and she looked deathly pale. She didn't stir at all, until Peter walked in, in mask and gown, and spoke to her. He didn't even seem to see Mel then, although he glanced once at the camera crew, and seemed satisfied at where they stood. And then everything got under way, as Mel watched in fascination.

Peter constantly glanced at the monitors and gave a constant series of orders to his team. They moved in total unison like an intricate ballet of hands, with instruments being passed to him from an enormous tray.

Melanie looked away when they made the first incision, but after that she was drawn to the intensity of the scene, and hour after hour she stood by and watched, praying silently for Marie's life, as they worked endlessly to replace her dying heart with the new one of the young woman who had died only hours before. It was fascinating to watch as they lifted the old one from her chest and placed it on a tray, and Melanie didn't even gasp as she watched them lower the new one into the cavity they had left, valves and arteries and veins were hooked up as the hands moved ceaselessly over the woman's chest; Melanie held her breath, then suddenly the monitors came to life again, and the sound of the monitored heartbeat leapt into the room like a drum in everyone's ears, and the cardiac team gave a cheer. It was truly amazing. The heart so lifeless since the death of its donor sprang to life again in Marie's body.

The surgery went on for another two hours after that, and at last the final incision was closed, and Peter stood back, his back and chest drenched, his arms sore from the precise work, and he watched carefully as they slowly pushed her bed from the room again, into a nearby cubicle where she would be watched for several hours. He would remain close by for the next six or eight hours himself to make sure that all went well, but for the moment everything seemed to be under control, and he walked out into the hall and took a deep breath of air, as Melanie followed him, feeling her legs shake. It had been an extraordinary experience watching him work, and she was deeply grateful for his call. He chatted for a few moments with the others, still in his cap and gown, his mask cast aside on a desk, and for a few minutes Mel conferred with the camera crew. They were ready to go home, and enormously impressed with what they'd seen.

“Christ, that guy's good.” The man in charge peeled off his blue gown and lit a cigarette, suddenly wondering at the wisdom of it as he did, but all he could think of was what they'd gotten on film, the constantly moving hands, working in pairs, sometimes two pairs together, never stopping, picking up tiny slivers of tissue to be repaired and veins barely thicker than hairs. “It really makes you believe in miracles to see something like that.” He looked at Mel in awe, and he shook her hand. “It was nice working with you.”

“Thank you for getting here so fast.” She smiled, and they glanced over some notes. He told her he'd have the film in New York the next day to add to the rest and then he and his crew left, and she changed her clothes. She was surprised to see Peter emerge in his street clothes too. Somehow she had assumed that he'd be sticking around in his operating-room garb, but she didn't know why she'd assumed that. It was strange to see him though as just an ordinary mortal again. “How did it go?” she asked him as they walked outside together into the hall. It was as though she had never left, and something deep inside her leapt to see him again.

“Okay so far. The next twenty-four hours will be crucial for her though. We'll have to see how she holds up. She was terribly weak when we went in. Did you see that heart? It was like a piece of rock, it didn't have any give left at all. I don't think she'd have made it another twenty-four hours. She was damn lucky we got that donor in time.” “Donor” … donor … no face … no name … no past … just “donor,” an anonymous heart in a body one knew, with a face like Marie's. It was still difficult to absorb. Even after watching the operation performed for four hours. Mel looked at her watch then and was surprised to see that it was well after six o'clock, and when she glanced outside she saw that the sun had come up. The night was gone, and Marie was alive. “You must be beat.” He looked her over carefully and noticed the dark shadows growing under her eyes. “Just standing there watching is a lot harder than doing the work.”

“I doubt that.” She yawned in spite of herself, and wondered how Marie would feel when she woke up. That was the worst of all. And Melanie didn't envy her. She would have a lot to go through now, even more than she'd gone through before. She had the drugs to absorb, the rejection and infections to fight, and she would have the pain of having been cut almost in half as they worked. Mel almost shuddered at the thought, and Peter saw her grow pale, and without further ado, pushed her into the nearest chair. He'd seen the symptoms before, even before Mel herself knew she was growing faint. He gently pushed her head down toward her knees with his powerful hands and Mel was too surprised to speak.

“Take slow, deep breaths, and exhale through your mouth.” She was about to say something flip to him but suddenly found that she felt too sick to speak, and when she'd recovered again, she looked up at him in surprise.

“I didn't even feel that coming on.”

“Maybe not, my friend, but for a minute there, you turned an interesting shade of green. You ought to have something to eat downstairs, and go back to your hotel to sleep.” And then he remembered that she had checked out, and no longer had a room, and he thought of something. “Why don't you go back to my place for a while? Mrs. Hahn can put you in the guest room, and the kids won't even know you're there.” He looked at his watch, it was a few minutes before seven. “I'll give her a call.”