Glass Hearts [BL]
Chapter 46: Time Is Running Out

Chapter 46: Time Is Running Out

I followed the nurse down the hall, each step feeling heavier than the last. My palms were damp, and no matter how many times I rubbed them against my jeans, the sweat kept coming back.

The nurse stopped in front of a closed door with a little brass plaque that read Dr. Sean and gave me an apologetic look before she knocked gently.

"Come in," came a low voice from inside

She pushed the door open and gestured for me to enter.

"He’s waiting for you."

I swallowed, nodded, and stepped inside.

Inside the doctor’s office

The office was tidy but somehow still felt claustrophobic. Shelves lined the walls, stuffed with medical charts. A fake potted plant drooped in the corner.

The doctor...Dr Sean- a man in his late forties, with deep lines around his eyes and grey stripes on his hair, was sitting behind the desk, scrolling through something on his computer screen.

He looked up when I came in, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose like he’d already had a long day.

"Ash Rivera, right? Have a seat."

I lowered myself into the chair, my knees were shaking.

The doctor folded his hands on the table and let out a long breath.

"I’ll get straight to the point. I know you’d rather hear this plainly."

"Your mother’s condition has deteriorated faster than we expected."

"What.. what does that mean?"

"It means her lungs are failing," he said quietly. "Completely."

The words thumped in my skull, as this high pitched sound hit my head.

"The infection and scarring in her lungs have caused almost total respiratory failure. At this stage, standard treatments... they just won’t be enough anymore."

The doctor gave a single. nod.

"Please.... what’s going to happen?" I stood up from my seat.

"Her lungs are no longer able to oxygenate her blood properly. She’s surviving right now because of the ventilator. But that’s only a temporary solution."

My hands curled into fists in my lap.

"So... what... what do we do?" My voice cracked.

He leaned forward slightly.

"She’s going to need a double lung transplant. And not just any transplant. Given how quickly her disease has advanced, we’d have to look at highly specialized surgical options. Either we fly her abroad to a facility that can handle this... or we bring in a surgical team from overseas."

I felt the blood drain from my face.

"Abroad? Like... where?"

"Likely the United States. Europe Or Germany. They have advanced pulmonary transplant programs. But the cost is... significant."

My brain stuttered. Abroad. Europe. A team from the States.

I gripped the arms of the chair. "If—if we fly in a team... or if she goes abroad... what would that cost?"

He hesitated. His eyes flicked away, just for a second.

"The total costs, including surgery, transport, post-operative care, immunosuppressive therapy, and rehabilitation... could exceed six to nine million."

Millions?

Millions.

My brain couldn’t even process the number.

Do I sell everything we own?

Do I beg online?

Steal? I don’t even know where to start.

"If we fly in a surgical team instead, it could still be in the millions. And there’s also the cost of anti-rejection medication she’d need for life afterward."

"I-I don’t... I don’t have that kind of money," I stammered. "We... we’re just..."

The doctor’s expression softened.

"I know. And I wish there was an easier answer. I’m going to connect you with the hospital social services team. We have a liaison who can help you with logistics....fundraising, grants, social services, donations. But I need you to understand...without this surgery... she won’t survive."

"I...I don’t know how," I whispered. "I don’t even know where to start."

"But I’m telling you now because time is running out. If you want her to have a chance, you must begin arranging funding immediately."

My chest felt like it was caving in.

I pressed my palms over my eyes, trying to breathe. "Oh god."

I thought about Alia. About the way she’d just been laughing, handing out cookies, completely unaware that our entire world was hanging by a thread.

Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

"How long does she have... if we don’t...?" I croaked.

He hesitated again. That hesitation was the worst part.

"Days," he said finally. "Maybe weeks. I’m so sorry."

I stared at him, my ears were ringing. I felt like I was floating above my own body.

Millions of dollars. A surgery in another country.

I couldn’t even afford the hospital bills we already had.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything...but no words came out.

How the hell am I going to save my mom?

If I couldn’t find a miracle, I was going to lose her.

Dr. Sean gave me a sympathetic nod as he rose from his chair. "I’m truly sorry, Mr. Rivera. I have another patient waiting. But don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything at all."

I could barely nod as another knock came on the door. The nurse poked her head in, leading in an older man who looked pale and worried.

I felt like I was moving underwater as I walked down the corridor. Everything seemed too loud, and too far away all at once. The squeak of nurses’ shoes, the hum of machines, the occasional beeping from monitors.

I made my way slowly back toward my mom’s room, barely aware of my own steps. My eyes stung, and my breath kept catching in my chest.

I reached the doorway, hesitated, and then froze when I saw Dominic standing there, leaning casually against the wall near my mom’s door. Arms folded, one ankle crossed over the other. His phone was tucked into his side pocket, and he looked up as soon as he saw me.

"Heyyy..." he drawled softly. Then his brows pinched together. "Shit, Ash. You look..."

I blinked, startled, and immediately wiped at my eyes, trying to scrub away the evidence.

"It’s nothing," I said quickly, forcing a shaky laugh. " Just something the doctor said."

Dominic walked closer, like approaching a frightened child. "Is... is your mom gonna be okay?"