Chapter 347: Margaret, He Is Letting Go
Raymond turned around and saw Margaret's hospital bed being wheeled into the operating room.
The door to the operating room closed abruptly.
The sign above the door read "Surgery in Progress."
Raymond rolled up his sleeves, his hand wrapped in gauze. Even a light touch caused excruciating pain.
He turned and headed to the gastroenterology department, explaining his purpose to the doctor there.
The doctor, upon hearing that Raymond was willing to undergo liver compatibility testing for Margaret, looked at him with a hint of admiration and said, "You’re really good to your wife. Some guys bolt when their wives get sick, scared they might have to donate."
Raymond forced a bitter smile. Over the past few days, nurses and doctors had repeatedly told him how good he was to Margaret.
He believed it too.
But Margaret didn’t see it that way. She blamed him for all her suffering, including her parents' deaths.
She didn’t care whether it was fair to him or not.
"However, whether you can donate depends on whether your blood type matches Ms. Hughes'. I'll write up the order; you’ll need to undergo liver function tests and a series of other checks," the doctor said, as a long list of fees printed out from the machine beside him.
Raymond took the list and handed it to Alvin to go pay downstairs.
After the payment was made, Raymond went to have his blood drawn and undergo the necessary tests.
A few hours later.
The test results were in.
The doctor looked at the results and smiled with relief, "Your blood type matches Ms. Hughes'. You can donate. But..."
The doctor’s tone shifted, his smile becoming strained, as if the next words were hard to say.
"But what?" Raymond squinted and pressed.
The doctor sighed, "But I don’t recommend it."
"Ms. Hughes' liver is completely damaged. If we transplant, it’s not just a matter of removing part of your liver. We’d need to take your entire liver."
Raymond’s heart plummeted, shattering into pieces.
Margaret needed a whole liver.
"Mr. Howard, judging by your complexion, do you often stay up late?"
"Yeah, work is busy, often high-intensity."
"That’s it. Mr. Howard, your health is likely suboptimal. If we remove your entire liver, you’ll only have one left. From then on, you can’t get angry, can’t do heavy work, and may face a series of liver complications. In severe cases, it could be fatal."
The doctor hesitated, adjusting his glasses, "Moreover, no one in our hospital dares to perform this liver transplant on Ms. Hughes. It’s very likely that even if we take your liver, Ms. Hughes might die on the operating table. Even if the transplant succeeds, no one can guarantee your safety."
"So, Mr. Howard, I suggest you give up on donating your liver. Spend the remaining time with her."
"She’s your wife; she should understand."
Raymond left the gastroenterology department.
Feeling utterly suppressed.
He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket, his fingers trembling as he took one out.
He placed it between his thin lips.
Alvin, perceptive, took out a lighter and lit the cigarette for him.
The yellow-blue flame slowly ignited one side of the cigarette.
Raymond took a deep drag, the thick smoke rolling in his lungs before he exhaled it through his prominent nose and thin lips.
"Mr. Howard..." Alvin looked at him worriedly, unsure how to comfort him.
Raymond glanced at him expressionlessly, the cigarette still in his mouth, "Don’t tell Margaret about the compatibility."
"Mr. Howard, are you really planning to donate your liver to Mrs. Howard?" Alvin asked, his voice filled with shock.
Raymond lowered his eyelids, flicking ash from his cigarette. "I have my own plans. Keep this from Margaret."
"But Mr. Howard, if you make such a huge sacrifice and Mrs. Howard doesn’t know, isn’t it all for nothing?" Alvin couldn’t understand why it had to be kept secret. "Why not just talk it out?"
Raymond sneered, smoking in silence. Even if she knew, she wouldn’t look at him. Margaret’s heart was with Daniel now. No matter how unwilling he was, what could he do? If they couldn’t be together as husband and wife, supporting each other, then being by her side in this way, until the end, was also a form of companionship.
The urgent matter wasn’t debating whether to donate the liver, but ensuring Margaret received treatment. As long as she could be treated and live well, he could try to let go and wish her and Daniel well. As long as he was good to Margaret.
Raymond waited outside the operating room for a long time. The emergency room light stayed on. The door remained closed. He didn’t know how Margaret was doing, whether she had been saved. Raymond felt anxious and chaotic. His eyelids kept twitching. To suppress the anxiety, Raymond kept smoking. One cigarette after another. The bitter smoke made him cough.
Alvin watched his solitary, desolate figure, his brows furrowing deeper. Until Margaret came out of the emergency room. Raymond didn’t say a word. He just smoked, and smoked. All day, he didn’t eat. When Alvin asked what he wanted to eat, he didn’t respond. With Margaret’s life hanging in the balance, how could he eat? He couldn’t.
Three hours later, the emergency room door finally opened. Raymond’s heart raced. He felt both joy and fear, hesitating to step forward. He was afraid of hearing bad news about Margaret. So he stood up but didn’t approach. He just watched Margaret being wheeled out of the emergency room.
Rufus and several assistants, nurses, all wearing masks, came out. Margaret was pushed past him. He looked at her. Her pale face, deeply asleep. She wore an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose. Her head turned to one side, away from Raymond. Margaret was taken to a regular ward by the medical staff.
"Mr. Howard, Mrs. Howard has been saved. But she can’t miss her medication again; it’s too dangerous," Rufus said seriously to Raymond.
Hearing this, Raymond’s tense heart finally relaxed. She was okay. She had been saved. Raymond shifted his gaze from Margaret’s bed to Rufus. "Margaret’s liver is ready."
"Mr. Howard found it?" Rufus asked, surprised.
He nodded.
Rufus didn’t ask further, instead focusing on another issue. "But Mr. Howard, Mrs. Howard’s condition is too severe. No one in our hospital dares to perform this surgery. If Mr. Jones steps in, there might be a chance."
"Mr. Howard, have you contacted Mr. Jones?" Rufus pressed.
Raymond’s face grew colder at this, his hand clenched at his side.
"Mrs. Howard’s condition can’t be delayed. Surgery must be done within these days, or even if Mr. Jones arrives, it’ll be too late. We can wait, but Mrs. Howard’s body can’t," Rufus sighed deeply.
Raymond pursed his lips, his throat aching. "Mr. Jones will come."
He still had Daniel as his trump card. But Margaret, he had to let go.
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