Dr. Brandt: Billionaires’ Club Book 5 (Billionaires’ Club Series)
Dr. Brandt: Chapter 4

I walked out of the meeting with our team, which specialized in consulting with families whose children were facing surgery. This case was different, and I’d spent the last two days and almost the entire morning going over all the scans on this highly aggressive brain tumor.

There were as many difficult aspects of being a pediatric neurosurgeon as there were rewarding ones. This meeting was a challenge to say the very least. I completely understood why the parents of five-year-old Crystal were wary of sending their daughter into surgery, and I hoped we’d reassured them adequately that we would take care of their precious little girl. However, time was of the essence to extract her tumor. It was growing rapidly, moving from the lower part of the back of her brain, and it had the potential of growing into the spinal cord.

“Do you think they’ll go through with it?” Dr. Nadeer questioned, the neurologist who was first to meet with this family. “You did a fine job explaining the benefits that outweigh any risks of surgery in there.”

As we walked out of the room, the surgical and consult teams following us, we left the family with our pediatric consultant to discuss this procedure without medical staff present. We answered all their questions, and now it was up to Mr. and Mrs. Johnson to decide whether they would proceed.

“I can talk about the benefits of saving their daughter’s life and giving her a better chance at life until I’m blue in the face, but does it make a difference?” I turned to his worrisome expression as we walked toward the elevators, and I pressed the button to get us up to the floor where I’d do my evening rounds before leaving the hospital for the day. “Look, it’s difficult to understand what this family has been dealing with. Their little girl has a grade-four tumor, and it doesn’t matter what we say after a certain point. Our words don’t make it any easier to trust us with their daughter’s well-being. That’s their baby, and in the end, we’re just humans tasked to do something not many people can. They’ve been challenged enough by this tumor, and now they’re forced to make what is probably the biggest decision of their lives. It’ll take some more convincing on that therapist’s part, but I’m fairly confident Crystal will be admitted tonight, and I’ll perform her surgery first thing in the morning.”

“I understand, Dr. Brandt,” he said. “When I ordered the scans, I didn’t expect it to come back as a glioblastoma multiforme. This must be such a devastating blow to them, and I know I can’t attach myself like—”

I placed my hand on his shoulder and smiled sympathetically. “You’ve attached yourself to this patient as you would have any other. Getting close is both a blessing and a curse, I think. However, if we can’t get attached, at least a little bit, then what’s the point of working in pediatrics?”

The elevator admitted us onto the floor where most patients lived with us for months or stayed in recovery for days or weeks.

“How do you do it?” he half-smiled at me. “It seems as though every time we go through this with our surgical teams, you replace a way to cope with every possible outcome.”

“I’m not doing anything special. I’m just a man who does everything he can to save lives when permitted to do so. In the end, it’s never my decision. I put everything on the table in that room, and I only hope it was well laid out. I also know that we work in a profession that tries to kick our butts at every turn. I won’t let that mess with my mind. In fact, I’m on my way to see my little superhero fan, Kaleb. If I were still preoccupied with Crystal’s parents, I wouldn’t be useful to Kaleb or my other patients. Seriously, man, I have to let the powers that be take it from here, or I will lose my mind.”

He grinned and glanced around the holographic rehabilitation room where we stood. “Well, I guess I’ve lost my own mind because I followed you into the recovery center as if this were where my next appointment is.”

I chuckled. “Well,” I pointed to where one of our nurses was playing catch with Kaleb, “if you’d like, you can throw the Nerf football with Kaleb. His coordination has vastly improved, and he’s a fierce competitor. You’re more than welcome to take him on.”

Dr. Nadeer grinned, his white hair practically glowing from the lights in this brilliantly designed area. I couldn’t help but chuckle at how he looked transformed from one of our most serious doctors into a half-human and half-cartoon version of himself.

“You’re laughing because you know your patient will likely beat me at this game of catch, eh?” he asked, oblivious to my train of thought.

I pinched my lips together and dared not to laugh again. “I would never laugh at one of my patients kicking a highly-skilled neurologist’s butt at a game of Nerf football.”

“Look, Nurse Darcy,” Kaleb said with an infectious laugh, turning his attention to where Dr. Nadeer and I stood, “it’s an Oompa Loompa from the Chocolate Factory.” He chuckled while I watched Darcy cover her smile.

“That’s not very kind, Kaleb,” she finally tried to scold the boy. Kaleb still wore the head dressing I’d wrapped this morning after checking the stitches and incision marks I’d made to rid him of a benign tumor.

Kaleb began singing the Oompa Loompa song, and I could tell Dr. Nadeer hadn’t understood my patient’s observation. His tanned skin looked orange, and his hair and eyebrows were so white they glowed. Now, all I needed was to see his bright white teeth, and then I’d be screwed by uncontrollable laughter.

“What’s an Oompa Loompa?” Dr. Nadeer questioned.

“It seems he’s got you pinned for a character from a family movie.” I paused as Darcy brought Kaleb’s attention back to playing catch with her. “I should thank you.” I clapped him on his shoulder. “Now, I know his memory hasn’t been marred after surgery. We just need to keep working on his fine motor skills.”

“Well, Dr. Brandt,” the neurologist said, “I will leave you to your patient. I am glad to be of assistance.”

I grew serious, matching his demeanor. “As I said, you are no good to your next patient if you allow Crystal’s current state to affect you. Give Mr. and Mrs. Johnson some time. Most likely, we’ll be back in that room later, Crystal will be admitted, and my surgical teams will have that tumor out faster than it took her parents to make this decision.”

“You’re correct. I think I’ll have a fresh cup of coffee, clear my head, and then prep for my next appointment in thirty minutes,” he said.

As Dr. Nadeer exited, I saw a Nerf ball being thrown in a beautiful spiral directly toward my head from my peripheral. I reflexively caught the ball, then picked up my clipboard and vocally commanded the computer inside to pull up Kaleb’s charts for the day.

“Not only can you throw the ball better than your favorite doctor,” I teased while I used my thumb to scroll through Kaleb’s charts swiftly, “but it appears you’re a superhero yourself, kiddo.”

“I’m doing great, aren’t I?” the ten-year-old questioned.

“You’ve made more progress since I checked on you this morning than you have all week.” I knelt and twisted the pointed part of the ball into his chest, prompting him to laugh.

“He’s done very well, transitioning from the holographic ball to the Nerf ball.” Darcy smiled at me. “Good call on that. His motor skills seemed to improve further with a more physical challenge.”

“Is that so?” I eyed Kaleb. “Well, you’ve proven something that I never knew until now.”

“I thought doctors knew everything,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“I thought I knew everything,” I said playfully as I stood. “It appears I must humbly admit that even the most brilliant and gifted doctors, such as myself, don’t know it all.”

“That’s a little scary,” Kaleb shot back.

I grinned, loving how much his confidence and humor were on display. His parents would be delighted when they arrived to visit their son tonight.

“Trust me, kid,” I arched an eyebrow at him, “there’s nothing to fear when a doctor has more to learn. It’s only a problem when a doctor thinks they know everything there is to know.” I chucked the ball out to the holographic field, sending Kaleb after it so I could watch his movements and speak to my nurse. His improvements were impressive, and if all went increasingly well over the next few days, I’d sign off on his release from the hospital, requiring only weekly visits and scans while I monitored his brain for possible issues.

For now, my patient was on his way to a full recovery, and it flooded me with excitement that outweighed my concerns from Crystal’s consultation. This was why I loved being a pediatric neurosurgeon. Kaleb was an easy example of that. When given a chance to help change and save children’s lives, I thrived. Losing my sister compelled me to move into the specialty of epilepsy because, despite how wealthy my parents were, their money couldn’t save my sister’s life. Now, I got to help those who felt helpless. Giving children life-saving options—ones my sister never got—gave me the utmost satisfaction.

When I first met Kaleb and his family, Kaleb could barely go a few minutes without having a seizure due to the pressure the tumor was putting on his brain. Now it was removed, and I was standing here with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. I contributed to Kaleb’s ability to live a full life, and that was the most rewarding part of this job. Well, that and playing with my patients in this fantastic technology room as they recovered.

“Dr. Brandt,” the front desk assistant, Preston, called my name, “you have an urgent phone call from Dr. Nadeer.”

“I’ll take it in my office down the hall,” I said, turning toward Darcy. “Tell Kaleb that I’m going to be able to help another patient because of what I learned from his amazing skills.”

She smiled. “He’ll love to hear that. Surgery?” she questioned.

“Let’s hope. Of course, Dr. Nadeer wouldn’t be calling me this soon after leaving as an Oompa Loompa otherwise,” I chuckled.

“I’ll upload the vitals, stats, and test results and send them to you.”

“Let Kaleb know I’ll be back to check on him in a bit.”

With that, I rushed down the hall that led to the doctors’ offices in this ward. I picked up the call, and from the triumphant tone in Dr. Nadeer’s voice, I knew why he was calling. Crystal would be admitted into the hospital, and I would be up hours before the sun, scrubbing in. We’d be performing emergency surgery, and Crystal would be joining the likes of young Kaleb as a child whose life was drastically improved.

Today was a damn fine day, even if it was yet another day that I’d been distracted by thoughts of Jessa. A month had passed since our unexpected run-in, and there hadn’t been one day that went by that I wished, above all things, that I’d grabbed her phone number instead of giving her mine.

I hated being cursed to wish I had her in my life again. I’d never felt heartache like this over a woman. Unfortunately, karma hated my ass when it came to relationships, and after what I had done to Jessa, I guess it was my turn to feel the pain.

I believe I finally knew what it must’ve felt like for her when I just up and callously walked away. God help me. She was engaged now, and she had a child. I had no business thinking about her like this. But hell, if I could knock this shit off, I would.

Jessa may have said we were just young and foolish back then, but I was no fool. I loved her—I never stopped loving her. I was just stupid enough to leave her in the worst way possible, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to take it all back.