Keyboard Kitten
Kitten Zoro sleeping soundly against my keyboard as I worked
…Time for this week’s story…
Heart Surgery
Heart surgery is about as serious as it gets. When Joe got the diagnosis, he was shattered and afraid. If something went wrong, he would die. If he didn't get the surgery, he would die. He had resolved to live the rest of his days in peace until a charitable organization offered to pay for his surgery.
Joe was over the moon. He may have been ready to die, but that was only because he didn't have a choice. With a ray of hope that he could live, he took the chance and went for it. Within days he had signed the paperwork and ended up getting an expedited date for the operation.
Prepped for surgery by eight in the morning, Joe was told he would come around by noon. It was the moment of truth, time to find out if he would ever wake up after being put to sleep. Those thoughts consumed him as he counted down from ten and drifted peacefully out of consciousness.
Joe woke up in the hospital bed, looking at the ceiling through blurry eyes. It appeared he had made it. Murmurs came from somewhere nearby, as well as the heart monitor’s steady beeps. He turned his head to the side in search of a nurse. Perhaps they could get him something to drink.
“He's awake,” a woman's voice chirped.
“What? Uh-oh,” a man responded.
Uh-oh? Joe’s sense of concern spiked dramatically. He rolled his head to look down the length of his body, but he couldn't see much with the light green curtain hanging over him, draped over his clavicle.
“Doctor Benowitz? What's going on?” Joe asked.
“It's okay, we're just going to put you back to sleep,” the doctor said. One of the nurses grabbed a mask over his face and turn on the gas to put him back under.
“Doctor, it's empty,” the nurse said.
“Hurry up and get a new tank before his body starts waking up!” The doctor ordered. That was when Joe tried to move. His body was paralyzed. Just as fear began to take hold, Joe’s emotional stability was tipped over the edge.
A massive stream of blood erupted from his chest and an alarm began to beep in the most stressful way possible. His heart monitor accelerated rapidly as the doctor and nurses panicked trying to fix the problem. The doctor barked orders and the nurses scrambled while Joe could do nothing more than watch a thick stream of blood shoot into the air, spraying all over the curtain and medical staff.
Joe screamed in panic. With the spike of adrenaline, he pleaded with the doctors not to let him die. Body still numb, he couldn't feel anything, but in his mind his chest was both hollow and throbbing in pain.
In the midst of the turnoil, the lights flickered then went out. The hospital’s generators kicked in immediately and the lights turned back on. The heart monitor's beeping slowed, even though Joe felt like his heart was racing. The lights got brighter, then the ceiling opened up in front of him. Square ceiling panels lifted out of their place, revealing behind them an overpowering bright white light.
“We're losing him!” The doctor shouted.
A distant ringing got louder and louder. From the bright light above, a figure appeared. Flanked by large white wings, the figure floated down. The angelic being leaned forward and reached out for Joe, who could now make out the angel’s appearance.
The white-robed angel had the visage of a handsome Asian man with fine, well-combed black hair. The angel gently cupped Joe’s face and leaned in close. When the angel's lips opened, Joe eagerly awaited the calling from the other side telling him it was time to go, and that his loved ones were waiting for him.
“We got you,” the angel said, somewhat mockingly.
“Huh?” Joe huffed.
“We got you!” The angel lifted into the air, arms out wide, revealing the blood-drenched doctor and nurses popping confetti at Joe. One of them blew a horn and wacky music began to play through the room’s speakers. Everyone celebrated and congratulated him on not really being dead. The lights from the floor above dimmed and Joe could see the wires and staging behind the angel.
“Hold on, what? This was a prank? What's wrong with you people? I thought I was dying!”
“You agreed to this when you signed the surgery paperwork,” said the angel.
“Idm what? Hold on, what are you talking about?” Joe asked, utterly dumbfounded.
“We Got You is paying for your surgery. You signed paperwork giving us permission to prank you before your operation,” the angel explained.
“We Got You? The charity?” Joe asked.
“We aren't a charity. We're a Japanese prank show. We're still paying for your real surgery.”
“Oh my God.” Joe’s head dropped with a thud then lifted back up. “A prank show? Like, ‘ha-ha, we got you,’ not like, ‘we got you, bro’?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Jesus Christ, this was a prank? This is elaborate! So you guys pay for people's surgeries to prank them or what?”
“No. We can do this a few times for one episode, but we always have to come up with new ideas. If we do the same thing, our audience will think we're lazy.”
“Wow, they really hold you to a high standard out there, huh?”
“Yes, Japanese audiences have high standards and hold us accountable.”
“Oh man. I'd complain that you guys could have given me a heart attack, but I guess you're paying for it either way. It actually kind of makes me feel better, because there ain't no way my surgery is going to go worse than this one!” Joe burst into laughter. The angel, doctor, and nurses laughed with him.
Joe’s surgery later that day was indeed a success. He lived for many more years, forever telling the story of that time a prank show saved his life, and how funny it was.