When it was time for the 11:30 surgery, Obinna gracefully left his office on the tenth floor and headed to the operating room on the third. Inside the designated lift, he glanced at his Apple Watch Series 9 as it quietly descended, its sleek face reflecting the soft overhead light.
Standing at the threshold of the operating theatre, his hand brushed against the cool, metallic doorframe as he took a moment to compose himself. The gentle whir of machines and the faint beeping of heart monitors filled the air, but in that moment, there was a singular, undeniable focus in his mind: the patient.
He adjusted his surgical gloves with precision, the tight fit of the latex a small but necessary ritual. The moment the door opened, the sterile light from within the theatre washed over him. The lead scrub nurse acknowledged him with a silent nod, a reassuring smile beneath her mask.
'Ready, Dr Obinna,' she said, her voice calm yet filled with the seriousness of the task ahead.
Obinna gave a brief nod in response, his mind already on the procedure, running through the steps in his head, calculating every incision, every movement. As the lead surgeon, the responsibility of this life rested squarely on his shoulders. The operating table was ready; the anaesthetist gave him a thumbs-up, confirming the patient was sedated and stable.
He walked towards the sterile environment of the table, his footsteps confident yet measured, the weight of years of training, experience, and countless surgeries behind each step. The patient lay unconscious, the pulse monitor flickering with steady beeps, but the clock ticking down to every second.
Obinna slipped on his surgical mask, securing it with a practised motion. His eyes, always sharp and steady, locked onto the patient.
'Scalpel,' he called softly, extending his hand. The instrument was placed in his grip without hesitation.
His hands were steady as he worked, making the first cut with ease. The team worked together smoothly, each person playing their part. Two scrub nurses stood close by—one handing him tools as he needed them, the other preparing the next set on a sterile tray. A surgical assistant helped with retraction, holding tissue in place so Obinna could see better. The anaesthetist gave regular updates on the patient's vitals, while a circulating nurse moved in and out quietly, bringing whatever was needed.
Obinna's mind was full of medical knowledge. His hands moved confidently, following the right steps with skill. Nothing else mattered outside the operating room. There were no distractions. Just the patient, the team, and the full attention needed to do it well.
Obinna moved carefully, his eyes watching each layer of tissue with strong focus. The first scrub nurse handed him tools quickly and quietly, like they were all working as one body. Everyone understood their role. Every second counted.
Obinna frowned slightly, but he stayed calm. A small problem came up during the surgery. It wasn't serious, but it needed quick attention. He didn't pause.
'Clamp,' he said, and the team reacted immediately, almost as if they already knew what he needed.
He kept watching the cut and worked faster to solve the problem. His heart stayed calm, but he knew how serious this moment was. This was what he had trained for. Even with pressure, his hands stayed steady, handling the task with skill.
'Closing,' Obinna finally said, his voice calm, but the sense of relief in the room was clear. The worst had passed. With careful sutures, he closed the incision, ensuring a clean finish. The surgical team moved with confidence, passing instruments and performing their duties, while Obinna remained focused on the task at hand.
As the last stitch was secured, Obinna stepped back, checking the surgical site one last time. He nodded at the anaesthetist, then turned to the team.
'Good work, everyone,' he said simply, removing his gloves and mask, his shoulders slightly relaxing. The tension in the air was now gone, replaced by the satisfaction of a job well done.
The team quickly moved to prepare the patient for recovery, while Obinna stayed behind for a moment, thinking about the call he had received from his daughter's principal. She had reminded him about Family Day and how important it was for both parents to attend.
Moments like this, when people's lives depended on him, made everything else seem less important. But not his daughter. She mattered deeply to him.
Obinna walked out of the operating room. The clean smell of medicine still hung in the air as the heavy door closed behind him. The stress of the surgery began to fade, but he still felt the excitement of its success. He stopped in the hallway, leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
It was a short pause, but a needed one. After focusing so hard during surgery, it was important for him to relax before moving on. He heard footsteps coming and turned to see his assistant, Jamal Brook, walking towards him with a worried look.
'Dr Obinna,' Jamal greeted him, his voice a welcome break from the sterile environment of the operating room. 'How did it go?'
'Successful,' he replied simply, his voice calm, though there was a weariness in his eyes. 'But there were complications. Minor ones, but they slowed us down.'
Jamal nodded, already making a note of the information on his tablet. 'I'll update the family and check in with the recovery team,' he said. 'You should rest for a while. Maybe grab something to eat. You haven't had a break all day.'
Obinna offered a faint smile but shook his head. 'Not yet. There's still paperwork to finish, and I need to check on a few patients later.' He didn't say it aloud, but the thought of his family and the question of having Vanessa at Erimma's Family Day at school tugged at his mind. Vanessa wasn't going to come, that was an obvious truth. But the question was, how was he going to make his daughter happy on that day?
His assistant didn't press further. 'Understood. Let me know if you need anything else.'
Obinna gave a curt nod as Jamal moved off to handle the logistics. He cast one last glance at the operating room doors before heading back to his office. The weight of Family Day at Erimma's school pressed heavily on his chest, but his mind was already shifting back to his role as a doctor, to the next patient, and the demands that came with it.
As he walked down the hallway, a nurse briefly stopped him to give an update on another patient, and he listened carefully, making mental notes of what needed to be done. But just as quickly as his professional focus returned, the pressing thought of Erimma and the need to find a mother to be at the school's Family Day gnawed at him.
He pushed it away, forcing himself to stay present. But as he sat at his desk, reviewing medical charts and replying to urgent emails, it became clear that the emotional weight of the day wasn't done with him yet. And he didn't know when it would go away.
***