flatline [m.s]

xvii.

- - -
sometimes the future changes quickly and completely, and we're left with only the choice of what to do next.
- - -

"alivia, walter tapley's coming in today," richard calls to his daughter as she's walking down the corridor with jackson. "do we have anything special that he can scrub in on?"

"walter tapley is coming here?" jackson asks, his eyes wide.

"my dad was his student," lia explains to him.

"you studied at the right hand of god?" jackson asks the chief.

"we need something impressive," richard informs lia.

"i'll stab someone in the chest if i have to," lia teases.

"avery, get boyer ready for his c.t and prep my lap chole," richard instructs. "i need to be outta that o.r by ten. alivia, plan to be free at ten."

■ ■ ■

"there she is," richard beams to walter tapley as lia enters the board room. "dr. alivia webber, our chief of cardio surgery, and my daughter."

"it's an honour to meet you, dr. tapley," lia smiles, shaking his hand. "i use your modified bypass procedure all the time."

"yeah. well, that was an afternoon well spent," tapley chuckles.

"you came up with that in an afternoon?" lia asks in shock.

"it took him six years," richard informs her.

"you're a killjoy, webber," tapley chuckles, then pausing for a moment before speaking again. "i didn't really come here for a visit. i have aortic and mitral stenosis with tricuspid regurge. i need a double valve replacement and tricuspid repair."

"are you sure?" richard asks his friend.

"charts, echos, chest x-rays... everything you need," tapley says, pulling paperwork from his briefcase and handing it to richard. "i may have modified the bypass, but i can't operate on myself. and my colleagues won't touch me because i have chronic a-fib, pulmonary hypertension and a clot in my left atrium. they think if they operate, they'll kill me."

"what makes you think we'll do it if your colleagues won't?" lia asks.

"i didn't start their careers. they can say no to me," tapley states. "webber can't."

■ ■ ■

"absolutely not," lia tells her father whilst she's stood in front of her father's desk.

"now, hold on, alivia," richard scolds. "we haven't even disc-"

"have you read the file?" lia cuts him off. "his pulmonary arterial pressure is through the roof."

"he's aware of the risk," he reminds her.

"well, in that case, fine," she sarcastically responds, throwing her hands up in the air. "i don't know what i was so worried about. i may go down in history as the surgeon who killed walter tapley, but hey, at least they're writing about me again. maybe i'll even be up for another harper avery."