“2 days,” said Dr.Lorazo.
The words were heavy on Gonzo’s heart. Two. Days. He processed the two words and squinted his eyes.
Minutes went by and Dr. Lorazo sat looking at Gonzo with sad eyes. Here and there he adjusted his glasses.
“Transviobiopsy… will work right?” Gonzo finally said.
“Right….?” he added again.
Dr.Lorazo looked at his watch and then fixed his sad gaze on Gonzo.
“Transviobiopsy can cure any known diseases Mr.Gonzo, except for a select few.” he explained calmly.
“What you have is a contortion in a heart valve. In two days time your heart will not be able to handle the large amount of blood required to operate your body.”
Gonzo studied the Doctors face and murmered something to himself.
“I could get an artificial heart. I could design one and flesh print it today!” Gonzo said hastily. Panic finally began to clutch his chest and cold sweat started forming on his hands. His fingers were trembling.
“It takes a week to culture the cells needed for a flesh print Mr. Gonzo,” Dr. Lorazo said slowly, “Even then, you would die if we remove your heart. There is too much blood built up in it.”
“Right…,” Gonzo uttered as if possesed by some demon. Then it hit him. He would die in two days and there was nothing he could do. Nothing.
“If you had come earlier to us, maybe something could have been done but even of that I am not sure.” said Dr. Lorazo.
Gonzo’s mouth was dry and a splitting headache reverberated through his skull. His troubled heart was beating faster and faster and his palms were pools of sweat.
“So there is nothing…?” he whimpered. “So… nothing?”
“I’m sorry,” The doctor said softly.
Both sat for an extended period of time, not speaking to each other. The doctor was gripped with pity at the sight of Gonzo who would whisper to himself in a faint voice and rub his hands furiously.
Then Dr. Lorazo broke the silence yet again.
“Do you believe in God Mr. Gonzo?” he asked, as if the question had an obvious answer.
Gonzo raised his head slowly and studied the doctor’s face.
“No.” he said. “Never have.”
The doctor removed his glasses from his eyes and gave Gonzo a pitiful gaze.
“Well….” he started. “There is not much consolation then, that I can give Mr.Gonzo. Was there anything you wanted to do before this unfortunate knowledge?”
“I’ve never been to New Britain… I wanted to go there, just for a day.” Gonzo replied.
“A beautiful place it is,” reflected the doctor.
“Two days, 48 hours. Then I die,” whispered Gonzo.
“I’m sorry sir. You would go into intensive care. But there would be very little we can do.” the doctor emphesized.
“Then that’s it. I have nothing left except 48 hours,” Gonzo replied in a hurt voice,”So I should do whatever I feel like in the next few hours?”
The doctor lowered his gaze.
“I am no therepist Mr.Gonzo,” he said sadly. “Do you have family?”
“None,” Gonzo said. “I guess that’s a good thing.”
The Doctor did not comment.
The two sat silent for another period of time: Gonzo with his head bowed in thought and Doctor Lorazo messaging the lens of his glasses with his thumbs.
The room was small and deadly quite except for the inaudible whispering of Gonzo.
Then the whispering suddenly stopped and the sound of the night outside creeped in through the window.
This time, Gonzo broke the silence.
“Have you ever wondered what it’s like to kill a man?” he asked in a sinister voice.
The doctor raised his eyebrows. “No! And even if I did, I would not commit the deed Mr. Gonzo. There are consequences to such actions!” Dr. Lorazo said sharply.
“Well I’m interested,” replied Gonzo with a self loathing smirk, running the edge of his thumb along the tip of his ball point pen.