What If....

WHAT IF…?

The traffic along the main road came to a stand-still when the deafening siren sounds pierced through the street. A brown military ambulance sped through the rush-hour traffic while dodging the oncoming drivers who curiously gazed at it. Pedestrians stopped walking and looked sadly at the flashing lights thinking, or rather knowing, that another casualty of war was being rushed over to the hospital, dead or alive.

The ambulance driver knew that every moment counted and that the young officer’s life was hanging on the balance. The doctor attending to the wounded man, still wearing his blood stained uniform, was praying silently. He did what he could to ease his patient’s pain and stop the massive bleeding. The rest was out of his hands. The prognosis was not encouraging. The patient’s heart-beat went down to a threatening 40 bpm and his breathing was shallow and laboured.

The ambulance sped relentlessly towards the hospital and came to a halt in front of the emergency entrance.

At casualties, a trained trauma team awaited the arrival of the wounded man; their faces were bleak and angry. The wounded officer was another victim of a long ruthless war, which demanded hundreds of young lives, with no visible end to it.

The center was quiet that day. A few minor cases waited in their small cubicle to be discharged, and most of the green curtains between the beds were drawn open.

The wounded officer was the first to arrive and the team expected others to follow shortly. They knew there would be no time to throw accusations at the people responsible for the attack. They were there to save lives and not debate political issues.

* * * * * *

Dr. Talia Kahan was on duty the previous night, but decided to stay when the hospital was notified there was only one wounded officer on his way. In all the years she had worked at the hospital, her most difficult moments were when wounded soldiers arrived. She always feared that one of them might be her brother. It became a nightmare every time the trauma center was put on alert and the staff waited for the ambulances to come in.

Talia came from a long line of "Good Doers". Men in her family were either soldiers or policemen, and the women were doctors and/or nurses. She was dedicated to her profession and never wanted to become one of those posh doctors who chose their line of expertise by the estimated future profits. She wanted to become a surgeon, and her preferred work was at the trauma center.

She was twenty-nine years old and was still single. She could have married a couple of times in the past, but her studies had been her priority. Several of her friends married, fell pregnant, and had their medical training postponed. Talia couldn't think of a better way to serve her country than becoming a doctor. There would always be time to marry and have a family. To be honest, she had to admit she had never met a man she wanted to marry. As the years went by, she became more particular about the men she dated, and "love" was something she only read about in books when she was younger.

The wounded soldier was wheeled into Operating Room No. 3. He was shot several times and suffered from a collapsed lung, a shuttered knee, and a severe loss of blood.

While Talia scrubbed for the op, Dr. Zimerman, the Chief Surgeon, told her that they may need to remove the collapsed lung. X-rays showed a large lacerated area in the lung which could not be mended. Talia nodded and thought about the young man and the kind of life he will have to lead with only one lung and a shuttered knee. But he was still alive, she thought, and where there was life, there was hope.

The doctor who accompanied the wounded man gave them the details of the incident: Three military vehicles were ambushed at an intersection, near the Lebanon boarder. The soldiers in the two rear cars managed to jump out and hide among the wayside bushes. The commander and driver in the leading car were caught under fire and could not get out. The driver was killed, and the commander, who was hit by several bullets, was rescued by one of his subordinates who crawled back to the vehicle and pulled the wounded Captain to safety. When the soldier came back for the driver, not realizing he was already dead, a direct hit from an RPG shell blew the vehicle to pieces. Dead driver and one very brave soldier were scattered all around, together with debris of the car.

Talia's skin went goose bumps. It wasn't the first time she heard stories of bravery and personal sacrifice, but each time she wondered about the consequences of a prolonged war in terms of hatred between the fighting parties and what it did to increase comradeship between soldiers of the same outfit. She asked herself what would the mother of the dead soldier feel when she saw the person her son saved. Would she hate him? Blame him? That was something she didn't want to contemplate before going into the O.R.

She turned to the nurse that was holding out her latex gloves, put them on and turning to the O.R doors, pushed them open with her rear, keeping her hands in the air, careful not to touch anything.

In the OR, the central light shone upon the still body of the young officer, lying on the operating table. He was very tall, and judging by his well-built muscles, he must have been an athlete. He had short light brown hair that cascaded softly down his forehead. His, eyes were shut, and his strong features were relaxed and peaceful. He was exceptionally handsome and Talia found herself wondering about the colour of his eyes.

The op was long and tiring. The team, headed by Dr Zimerman, worked for hours to save the man's life. His knee was in a better shape than was thought, and an orthopaedic surgeon was called in to take care of it. The right lung was removed and the patient was stabilized, with good chances of recovery.

Talia was so tired she could hardly keep her eyes open. She hurried to the staff room, discarded her soiled clothes and sat on a chair, bending her head down. She felt nauseated and realized it had been hours since she had anything to eat or drink.

The hot water urn in the corner of the room was boiling, emitting spurs of steam towards the ceiling. She got up and made a strong cup of coffee. Black, no sugar. While sipping the hot brew, she was thinking about the new patient. His name was Oded Soffer and his family was on its way to the hospital. She couldn't for one moment stop thinking about the soldier that sacrificed his life to save his commander. Life was a strange business, she thought. A new life was always bought at the expense of another life - old people died and new babies were born, one man died to give life to another. Will the survivor appreciate the gift? Will he become a better man knowing he owed his life to a selfless soldier who most likely acted on an impulse rather than on a calculated manoeuvre?

When Talia arrived home, she showered quickly and fell onto her bed, gathering the soft pillow into her chest. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow and dreamt of fires and shooting bullets and lots of blood running to the ground, seeping through it and disappearing without a trace.

When the alarm clock went off in the morning, Talia hit the stop button with her hand and curled under her duvet, reluctant to face the new day. She wished she didn't have to go to the hospital. The vague memory of her nightmare was still nagging at her and she felt that another day of treating wounded soldiers would be the last straw.

Talia finally got up and while going through her morning ritual, she made a quick phone call to her mother. She spoke to her between biting into her toast and sipping her coffee. Her mother reminded her of her brother's coming birthday and said he would be on a special leave from his base. She said they were planning a surprise party for him. Talia said she had already bought him a poetry book which she knew he liked and promised her mother to come early so they could decorate the garden for the party.

She loved her brother in a way that twins normally feel about each other, although they were not twins. He was younger, but they were so close that her parents often wondered if they shared a soul. Daniel was in the army, doing his compulsory service, after graduating from University. He was the first man to break family tradition when he decided he didn't want a military career and didn't even go to the officer's course. He wanted to serve in one of the elite units like the Navy Commandos or one of the Special Forces outfits. He was accepted to the Paratrooper's Special Unit and was doing well being a natural leader and a charmer as well.

She drove the short distance from her flat to the hospital and parked her car in the staff's parking lot. "It's a waste of money to keep this car," she thought. "I'm not going anywhere except to the hospital, and I could walk instead of drive… I probably should walk for the exercise…"

Her first visit was to see Captain Oded Soffer. He was still on the critical list and was in the ICU, under careful observation. He was asleep, his chest bandaged and looking odd on the right side where the ribs sunk into the cavity created by the missing lung. His growing beard shaded his face but he still looked handsome. Talia checked his chart and noticed with satisfaction that his blood- pressure returned to normal and his blood test results came back, indicating no infections. His bullets wounds were all treated, and he was connected to an IV which took care of his fluids and antibiotics.

As Talia changed the dosage of the antibiotics on the chart, a middle-aged couple came into the room, wearing white gowns and surgical masks. Talia was about to chase them out of the room when she noticed the woman's red swollen eyes and the tall slim frame of the man. She knew then they were Oded's parents.

She signed hurriedly the chart and greeted them quietly, introducing herself as their son's doctor. She suggested they talked after spending a few minutes with him. The woman had beautiful blue eyes which were filled with tears and had that lost look of someone in deep shock. Talia guessed the couple had travelled all night and offered to take them to the cafeteria for refreshments. They both declined and said they wanted to be with their son.

Talia explained he would be asleep for at least six more hours and that they couldn't stay with him more than a few minutes for fear of infection. The woman clasped Talia's hand and the unspoken question hung in the air. Talia went all soft inside. The woman seemed so vulnerable and kept looking at her son, tears running down her cheeks. She patted the tiny hands holding hers and said tenderly that their son was still critical, but his chances were very good.

She left the room, giving the distressed parents another glance. She had seen it all before; Parents, wives, children, all shocked, anxious and pained. She sometimes wondered who suffered more - the injured man or his family. She had been taught to ignore her sympathy for patients or their families. Doctors didn't have enough compassion to go around, so they had to block a part of their mind and go on with their work.

Talia was preoccupied all that day with the image of Captain Oded Soffer. She promised his mother to keep a "special" eye on him. She would have done so anyway, she admitted to herself. There was something in his face that fascinated her. She had that strange wish to see his eyes. "I'm overworked," she said aloud and hurried to his room, feeling that strange magnetic pull to him.

Oded was still asleep. She checked his pulse. It was normal. His colour was good too and his breathing was slow and even. On an impulse, she bent down and wanted to check his eyes. She needed to see his eyes… Their colour…

As her hand touched one eyelid, both his eyes opened and he stared at her face.

"Am I in Heaven?" Came the hoarse whisper. "I've seen you in my dreams…"

Talia pulled herself up and looked at him, amazed. Her eyes locked with his. Never had she seen deep blue oceans in anyone's eyes. She stared, not able to move or even breathe. I knew he would be like this, she thought. Was it a premonition? How could I have known?

Oded smiled at her, and her heart missed a beat. She knew he was her man even before he opened his eyes. Not a case of love at first sight, she thought. He was programmed into her being when she was born. He was part of her, as much as her brother Daniel, perhaps more. Her head was spinning and all she saw was the bright light, deep in the blue pools of his eyes.

Oded tried to push himself to a sitting position and his movement broke the spell she was caught in. She helped him up, rearranged his pillows and said, "Welcome back, Oded. My name is Talia and I'm your doctor. How do you feel?"

"You mean I'm still alive? You are not an angel? I could swear I saw white wings behind you and a halo above your head…" He suddenly felt pain in his chest and touched it, frowning in bewilderment. Talia had to tell him about the op and his missing lung. He closed his eyes and said slowly, "I remember being shot when we were ambushed, nothing else. I have no idea how I got here and who else was hit by the bullets. But I saw YOU in my mind. Now, tell me everything.

Talia told him the story and watched his reaction carefully. He closed his eyes and murmured, "No, no, no!” And then shouted, "Noooooo… I can't live knowing someone died for me! I can't… Talia, please tell me it's not true… It can't be…

Talia's heart went for him. That was a burden he would have to carry the rest of his life. She gave him a sedative and made him lie back, pulling the pillows down. He seemed calmer when she held her hand on his forehead and waited until he was asleep. Then she left the room and went to talk to the hospital psychologist. She wanted to know how she could help Oded cope with his guilt and the death-wish that would probably develop later.

At the staff room she found Dr. Joffe and spoke to him briefly. She arranged for him to see Oded and think of a way to help him. While discussing the case with him, the phone rang and Talia picked it up. It was her father, calling from work. He said in a strange voice that she must hurry home and that her mother needed her.

Alarmed, Talia apologized to Dr. Joffe and went to Dr. Zimerman's office. She arranged for another doctor to cover for her and left the hospital, as she was, in her white jacket and her stethoscope still wrapped around her neck. She arrived at her parent's house in record time.

As she entered the house, she saw her mother sitting in the rocking chair, swinging softly and holding in both hands a picture frame. Talia couldn't see whose picture it was but looking at her mother's face, an ice sliver went through her heart. She knew it was Daniel, and that he was gone forever. Her nightmare came true. Her young brother who insisted on joining the elite Force, her dear Daniel who was part of her since the day he was born, he will never celebrate another birthday.

She hurried forward to her mother, kneeled and hugging each other, they both cried until there were no more tears.

When her father arrived, they sat in the lounge, and he told them the circumstances of Daniel's death. "He was on his way to a mission with his unit when they were attacked. His commander was shot in the first vehicle and Daniel went back and pulled him to safety." Her father paused, looked at them and went on, his strong voice trembling. Talia heard him talking through a deep void that threatened to swallow her: "Then he went back for the driver, but the attackers saw him and fired an RPG shell at the car. He was killed instantly. I'm sure he didn't suffer." Her father got up and said to himself, trying to come to terms with their loss, "He had always put his comrade's needs before his own. He was that kind of man…"

Silence fell in the room. Talia was overwhelmed by a cold realization. The Hero who saved Oded was her own flesh and blood… her beloved Daniel! She wouldn't have met him if not for Daniel… Life was a strange business… One died and the other lived…

What if Daniel wouldn't have saved Oded?

The question remained unanswered.

Hanna © June 2003