Fifty-One
Nine days later
Ben wouldn’t stop playing with the plastic anatomical model of a liver he’d found on the doctor’s desk. “I know, right? Hunter is such a legend! He didn’t even let on he was doing a fundraiser, crafty bastard!”
“Twelve hundred dollars? How many lap dances is that? I have to thank him. Can you give me his—” Looking up from her chair, Riley did a double take. “Ben, put that back! The surgeon will be here any minute. You might brea—”
The plastic gallbladder pinged off. “Ahh, shit!” He ducked out of his chair, retrieving the errant organ from across the desk.
“Ben!”
Just my luck! He couldn’t get the gallbladder to snap back into place. “What’s the crowdfunding page at now, then?” he asked, examining the two organs closely, trying to see how they might reconnect.
“Just over four thousand—Ben, hurry—”
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Dr. Ricer, one of the surgeons on the transplant team, strode through the door, shutting it behind him. “Please, have a seat.”
Ben smiled, hid the broken organs behind his back, and sat down.
“Beautiful day today.” Riley smiled, trying to distract the doctor.
“Summer’s last gasp—must enjoy it while we can.” Dr. Ricer opened Ben’s file on the desk. “So, I’m not sure congratulations is the right word, but Benjamin…you’re in!” The surgeon grinned behind his neatly trimmed beard. “The donation team agreed you’d be a suitable donor for Maggie.”
“Brilliant! Drinks are on me!” Catching the doctor’s smile slip, Ben corrected course. “Just joking!”
Dr. Ricer flipped a page of Ben’s medical notes. “Kidding aside, giving the gift of an organ is a generous gesture, and a serious decision. I know you’ve thought long and hard about this, but as we’ve already discussed, you can change your mind at any time, Benjamin, right up to the day of surgery—”
“Ben, please, and I won’t change my mind.” He squeezed Riley’s hand and let go.
“Your gift has a high likelihood of curing Maggie’s cancer, but there’s always a chance it will come back and your sacrifice won’t have its intended result. Some donors decide they can’t go through with it because there’s no guarantee of a positive outcome.”
“I realize that, but what in life is guaranteed? I could get run over by a bus leaving here today.” Ben shook his head. “Nope, we have to try.”
The surgeon smiled and scratched his shoulder through his scrubs. “I know it sounds like I’m giving you the doomsday take on living organ donation, but we just have to make certain you’re aware of all the facts and risks before we move forward.”
“Gotcha. Yeah, it’s a huge decision and I’m not taking it lightly.” Ben reached over and swept a piece of hair from Riley’s eyes. “I’ve become close to Maggie, and I know how much she means to Riley. Look, if this was happening to my mum, I’d hope someone would do the same for her. So…I’m all in.”
Riley let out a shaky breath and blinked back a tear, a smile flirting with her mouth.
“Well, it’s good you have the support of Riley and Maggie.” Dr. Ricer turned over a page in Ben’s file. “Now, I see for family, it’s just you and your mother? And she’s aware of your decision?”
He nodded. “Yeah, just me and Mum. She’s concerned, obviously, but she respects my decision.”
“Good.” The surgeon wrote something quickly in the file. “Now, I’ll run through the risks a final time, and if either of you have questions, don’t hesitate to jump in.”
Both Ben and Riley nodded.
“Donor surgery involves general anesthesia, and like any medical procedure where the patient is unconscious, there can be complications including blood clots, heart problems, and bleeding that might require a blood transfusion. These complications don’t happen too often.”
“That’s good.” Riley exhaled nervously.
“Now, when we look at post-operative risks directly connected to liver donation, it’s important to note that a small number of donors have had some sort of complication. They can be mild, like post-surgery nausea, constipation, small bile leaks from your liver, or minor wound infections. These problems usually resolve—” The surgeon’s phone rang. Dr. Ricer glanced at it then flipped it over, face down. “Within a few weeks.”
Wait, wait, back up. “A leak?” Ben chewed his lip. “How would you know…?”
“Well, you’ll have one or two small drainage tubes in your abdomen to drain any blood or bile that may leak from your liver. Those tubes are usually removed after two or three days. If there’s a lot of bile in the drainage and it’s accompanied by chills, nausea, or swelling, we’ll intervene and operate right away.”
Christ, that sounds bad. Ben screwed up his face.
“And that’s a minor complication?” Riley fiddled with the puffin charm on her bracelet. “What are the major ones?”
The surgeon folded his hands on the desk. “Serious complications can include failure of the remaining left lobe to function or death, but the chances of either happening are very low.”
Riley shifted in her seat and wrapped her arms around her middle. “Low…but not impossible.” She swallowed and stared at her boyfriend.
She’s fretting. Lighten the mood. Ben looked ahead, serious and reserved. “And when can I drink again? I’ll need a pint when all this is done.”
Riley’s expression softened.
“One of the great ironies,” said the doctor. “Unfortunately, Ben, you’ll have to hold off on having a hard-earned drink for six months after surgery—”
Shit-bollocks-fuck it! “Really? That long?”
“And even then, just small amounts for a while. Your liver will be recovering and growing. Metabolizing alcohol won’t be at the top of its to-do list.”
“Slacker organ.” Ben leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. “What about sex?”
Riley did a double take.
“Oh, Riles, I gotta ask.” He laughed.
“Sex will have to wait, too. During the post-operative period, specifically the first three months, you might feel weak or have some discomfort in your abdomen. Some donors have reported lower sexual functioning—that’s issues with erections, having orgasms—during this time, but those problems do improve and return to normal as recovery progresses.”
No booze, no sex…I didn’t even think… “So what you’re saying is, I’ll basically be livin’ like a monk for a bit?”
The surgeon nodded slowly. “Your body won’t return to normal overnight. It’s major surgery, Ben.”
Toying with her bracelet again, Riley shifted in her chair. “I read something about the gallbladder being removed, too. Is that true?”
Yeah, it’s behind me! Ben stifled a chuckle, pretending it was an awkward sneeze. Riley shot him some side-eye.
“Yes. I’ll show you why…” Dr. Ricer’s eyes searched his desk.
Shit. He’s looking for the model. Ben stared into space.
“Hmm, one of the interns must have it. Well…” The surgeon pointed at his own abdomen. “It sits in front of the right lobe of the liver here, so it has to be removed to enable access. The gallbladder aids in digestion, but Ben shouldn’t have any major issues without it. Sometimes digesting fatty or spicy foods can cause discomfort. Our nutritionist will go over a meal plan with you, post-op. It’s usually recommended that you avoid certain foods for a while, things like French fries, ice cream, potato chips.”
“No crisps, no booze, no sex…got it.” Ben cleared his throat. “And how long will I be off work exactly?”
“Every donor is different, but we find most are off for three to six weeks post-surgery, longer if the job is physically demanding.” Dr. Ricer referred to his papers again. “You’re…a bike courier and a waiter—you’ll have to play it by ear, Ben. Cycling around Manhattan and bussing tables is about as far as you can get from a desk job.”
Jeez. It all feels so real now. Ben’s face fell.
Pulling her jean jacket sleeves over her hands, Riley looked down, her green eyes glassy.
“Look.” The surgeon took a deep breath and leaned forward. “Being a living organ donor is not easy. It’s no surprise people change their minds. It’s an enormous ask.”
Ben chewed his lip. But Maggie never asked—not for cancer, not for recurrences—and she’d never ask me or Riley—or anyone—to save her life. He inhaled deeply and let the breath slowly exit his lungs, watching Riley quiet and still, staring at her lap like she was determined not to sway him one way or the other. It won’t be easy, but…I can skip all the fun stuff for a few months. My ‘suffering’ doesn’t compare with anything Maggie’s gone through—or the agony she’ll go through if I don’t do this… He blinked and sat up, putting his hand on Riley’s knee. “It’s a big ask, but I still want to do it.”
Riley’s lips parted. “You sure?” she whispered.
“Yep.” Ben ran his hand through his hair. “Can we set the surgery date now?”
“We can. We had a cancelation for next week.”
“Someone dropped out?” asked Ben.
Dr. Ricer didn’t answer and kept scrolling on his computer. “We’d like to schedule Maggie’s transplant as soon as we can. It’s always tricky to book these things as we need two operating rooms, two surgeons, two teams of nurses and anesthesiologists…okay, right. Here it is. What are you doing a week from now—Tuesday, September 4th?”
Ben turned to Riley and smiled. “Saving your mom.”