Chapter 138 - The Waiting Game (1/2)

As it turns out, Mrs. Gomez isn't qualified to be a blood donor for Miguel. So as Lucille, Dale, and twenty other team members of The Residence. Those who have been blood typed wait in the main lobby, chattering excitedly among themselves, as though waiting for some main event. The others who are still being processed are in a room adjacent to the ER.

Claire, who has regained consciousness and has since fully bounced back, squeezes Gabriel's hand as they listen to Mrs. Gomez's prattle. They're in the small waiting area outside the ICU, waiting for the doctor's update.

When the door opens, the three of them stand up, their hearts in their throats. The doctor, whose name is Garcia, looks cool, considering the pressure.

”I'm here to let you know we've started with the transfusion of the one unit of blood that came from you, Miss Claire,” Doc Garcia says. ”We're still in the process of finding more. Hopefully, some of your companions would be compatible as donors.”

”How is he?” Gabriel asks. ”Is he awake?”

”Well, he's in a deep sleep, which is for the best. But as you know, the transfusion is a drip method, so it would take about an hour for the bag to be fully transfused into his body. By then we'd just need more, so that the whole process is seamless. This would also help us avoid complications.”

”Complications like what, Doctor?” Mrs. Gomez's voice quakes with worry.

The doctor shrugs. ”There is always some sort of complication with every single medical procedure. In this case, although the likelihood is low, Miguel's immune system could respond and treat the transfused blood as the enemy. If that happens, it could damage his kidneys or some organ.”

”Jesus,” Claire mutters. ”Can we do something to avoid that?”

”We're already doing that. He's being very carefully monitored, Miss Claire. Every second of the procedure, there are machines that monitor his body's responses. And of course, add to those are the trained watchful eyes of our nurses and staff.” Dr. Garcia smiles. ”We're doing the best we can. He's in good hands.”

After the doctor leaves, Gabriel couldn't help but pace the small space impatiently.

”Take it easy, Mr. Tan,” Mrs. Gomez says. ”As the doctor said, he's in the most capable hands.”

”Yes, I know,” he says. ”But still. Every moment he's in that situation, I feel helpless. Like I could have done more, but I can't.”

Mrs. Gomez sighs. She sits down and looks around, wondering where to get some grub here. Maybe the folks from The Residence could do with some food, too. It had been too early when they were asked to go here; most of them probably, like her, had yet to have their breakfast.

”Mr. Tan,” Mrs. Gomez says, standing up. ”I should arrange some food for your employees. And maybe you could eat some, too—”

”No, I'm fine,” he says. ”But Claire might need to—”

”I'm fine, too,” Claire says. ”I don't feel hungry at all.”

Mrs. Gomez frowns. ”That's odd. You need some nourishment in you, or else you might faint when it's too late.” She touches Claire's cheek. ”I think you're dehydrated. What say you to at least a bottle of Gatorade?”