Rebels (John Bates) by Scott Powell, Judith Powell Page B

I will live through it? I know more often than not, people die going through open-heart surgery. I have one other question I am afraid to ask. With all this strenuous exercise and tests, why was I told at home to avoid activities like this? I am afraid I’ll die even before I hit the table. I put on a strong face for the doctor, who I like, and for Nurse Garrison, who I do not trust. I secretly wish my father were here to reassure me, to counsel me, and to tell me it is going to be okay and for my mother to hold me like she had when I was a small boy
     
    The day finally comes when I find out when and what is going to happen. I go in to see Dr. Pruitt but instead of exercises, he sits me down.
     
    “All day today we will be preparing you for surgery tomorrow. There will be a series of shots, and you’ll have to take some medicine, as well. Let me explain what we are going to do tomorrow. First, we are going to put you asleep so you don’t feel anything. Then we are going to remove your old heart and put this in its place.” He hands me a glossy photograph of something that looks like half heart, half machine. “Then we close you up, and you’re good to go.”
     
    “I’m getting a new heart?” I had thought they were just going to go in and repair the heart, not that I would receive a whole new one. I know I will have to take some sort of drug to suppress my body’s natural immune system in order to keep it from seeing the heart as something that does not belong in the body, seeing the heart as foreign, and rejecting it or ridding itself of the new heart. My risk of dying just went up tenfold. I will never have the drugs I need. There are just too many shortages. “What kind of drugs will I have to take after the surgery?” Even if I get the drugs, it will only be as long as I am useful to the State. As soon as my usefulness is done I won’t receive any more drugs, and on that day I will die.
     
    “Don’t worry, there will be no need for drugs. The heart has little nanobots inside it. They will go in and change your immune system so it will not reject the new heart. I invented this heart myself.” He seems to want to talk about it more, but he doesn’t dare with Nurse Garrison standing right next to him. I don’t blame him. She is obviously on the take with the government. One wrong move and Dr. Pruitt might need a new heart of his own.
     
    We finish more tests. I do some light weightlifting and run on the treadmill some more. I still wonder if all this is safe for me to do with my enlarged heart, but I assume the doctor will do nothing that will put me in danger. When we are done, Nurse Garrison escorts me back to my room, and for the rest of the day I am given different shots. I am no longer allowed to eat in order to prepare for the surgery, but the shots keep coming. My arm is sore, and I wonder if I can receive a shot in a different arm. But Nurse Garrison doesn’t care at all. Her job is to give me the shots, and she does. I am grateful when she tells me this is the last one for the day.

Chapter 14
     
    The next morning , I get up even before Nurse Garrison can come for me and when she finally comes, it is no surprise she has a shot in her hand.
     
    “How do you feel?” she asks.
     
    “I feel fine,” I answer, thinking nothing of this question.
     
    “Let me see your arm,” she says, hands outstretched with the needle grasped in her left hand. I assume it is another vitamin shot, but the moment the yellow fluid enters my arm the room starts to move. I try to stand, only to lose my balance and fall to the floor as rough arms grab me. I can no longer keep my eyes open.
     
    When I awake, I am strapped to an operation table, a bright light overhead is all I can see. I hear Dr. Pruitt’s voice call out to me.
     
    “Count backward from one hundred, John.”
     
    I don’t want to, but what choice do I have? I want to shout at Dr. Pruitt and tell him about the thing nurse Garrison had done,