Chapter Three — Owen -Seventy-Two Hours
2011 Words
There were days when I was tired.
There were days when my feet hurt from standing for hours at the diner, when my back ached, when I counted every bill in my wallet before deciding what I could afford for dinner.
But I had never been afraid of being tired.
I had never been afraid of hard work.
I had learned how to survive.
What I had never learned was how to survive the possibility of losing Theo.
That afternoon, I was working my usual shift at the diner.
I was carrying two plates to a table when Sarah caught up with me.
“You know, you have a life beyond Theo, right?”
I glanced at her.
“What?”
She laughed.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“You should date someone.”
I almost laughed.
“No.”
Sarah rolled her eyes.
“I’ve known you for four years, Owen.”
“I know.”
“And in those four years, you have never—not once—dated anyone.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Busy raising a child.”
“Exactly.”
“Owen, you’re twenty-five. You should be raising your child, yes, but you should also be dating. Having friends. Going out. Having a life.”
I placed the plates on the table.
“Theo is my life.”
She stared at me.
“I’m serious, Sarah. He is my life. I’m not planning on changing that.”
“You are going to die single.”
I laughed.
“I will not die single.”
“You absolutely will.”
“I have a child.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“And I have my work.”
“That’s even worse.”
I shook my head.
Sarah had been having this conversation with me for years.
She never understood.
How could she?
She hadn’t been eighteen with a baby sleeping in her arms.
She hadn’t watched her only family disappear.
She hadn’t chosen between college and keeping the lights on.
She hadn’t spent seven years building a life around another human being.
Theo wasn’t something I had to fit into my life.
He was my life.
I was about to say something else when my phone started ringing.
I glanced at the screen.
Theo’s School.
My smile disappeared.
I answered immediately.
“Hello?”
There was silence for half a second.
Then a woman’s voice.
“Is this Owen?”
“Yes.”
“Are you Theo’s legal guardian?”
My stomach dropped.
“Yes. Why?”
“Mr. Owen, Theo fainted at school.”
Everything around me seemed to disappear.
“What?”
“He collapsed. An ambulance has taken him to the hospital.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Is he awake?”
“We’re not sure. You need to come immediately.”
“I’m coming.”
I hung up.
Sarah was staring at me.
“What happened?”
I couldn’t answer.
I grabbed my jacket.
“My son.”
That was all I managed to say.
Then I ran.
⸻
I don’t remember the drive.
I don’t remember parking.
I barely remember walking through the hospital doors.
I only remember asking the first person I saw.
“My son. Theo. Seven years old. His school brought him here.”
The receptionist pointed me toward the emergency department.
I ran.
And then I saw him.
My baby.
My little boy.
Lying on a hospital bed.
Machines surrounded him.
Tubes were connected to his body.
His face looked too pale.
Too small.
Too still.
I stopped walking.
For a second, I couldn’t move.
“That’s my son.”
My voice cracked.
I walked toward him.
“Theo?”
He didn’t answer.
I reached for his hand.
It was warm.
Thank God.
He was warm.
But there were machines making sounds I didn’t understand.
Numbers I didn’t understand.
Tubes I didn’t understand.
I turned around desperately.
“I need to know what’s happening.”
I rushed to the front desk.
“I’m Theo’s father. I’m his guardian. What are all those machines doing to him?”
The nurse looked at her screen.
“The seven-year-old boy brought in from school?”
“Yes.”
She looked at me with sympathy.
“You need to speak with Dr. Avery.”
“Where?”
She pointed down the hallway.
“His office is down there. I’ll show you.”
I followed her.
My heart was pounding so hard it hurt.
The nurse stopped outside a door.
“Dr. Avery is inside.”
I knocked.
“Come in.”
I opened the door.
A man in a white coat sat behind the desk.
“Mr. Owen?”
“Yes.”
He stood.
“I’m Dr. Avery. Please, sit down.”
I didn’t want to sit.
I couldn’t sit.
“I need to know what’s wrong with my son.”
The doctor looked at me for a moment.
Then he gestured toward the chair again.
“Please.”
I sat.
My hands were shaking.
“Is he going to be okay?”
Dr. Avery took a breath.
“Has Theo ever been diagnosed with a heart condition?”
I stared at him.
“No.”
“Any history of fainting?”
“No.”
“Chest pain? Difficulty breathing? Extreme fatigue?”
“No.”
I shook my head harder.
“No. He’s a normal seven-year-old. He plays. He runs. He goes to school.”
“Has he been sick recently?”
“He had a few fevers.”
“How long ago?”
“Maybe a few weeks.”
“Was he treated?”
“Yes. We thought it was the flu. He took medication and got better.”
Dr. Avery leaned back.
“Owen, the reason Theo fainted today is because his heart is extremely weak.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“Your son has a serious heart condition.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
“We ran several tests.”
“No.”
“Owen—”
“No. You must be wrong.”
“I understand this is difficult.”
“He doesn’t have a heart condition.”
His voice softened.
“His heart is failing.”
The room went silent.
I couldn’t hear anything except the blood rushing through my ears.
“Failing?”
“Yes.”
I looked at the floor.
Then back at him.
“Can you give him medicine?”
“We can stabilize him temporarily.”
“Then do that.”
“We are.”
“Then he’ll be okay.”
The doctor didn’t answer immediately.
That silence frightened me more than anything.
“What?”
“Owen, medication is not going to fix this.”
My throat tightened.
“What will?”
Dr. Avery looked directly at me.
“A heart transplant.”
I felt like the floor had disappeared.
“A… transplant?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“His condition has progressed significantly. We need to move quickly.”
“How quickly?”
“Within seventy-two hours.”
I stared at him.
Seventy-two hours.
Three days.
That’s all I had.
“What happens if we don’t?”
The doctor looked down.
“His heart may not be able to sustain him.”
I covered my face with both hands.
“No.”
My voice broke.
“No, no, no.”
I had survived losing my parents.
I had survived Lizzy leaving.
I had survived every job, every unpaid bill, every night I wondered whether we’d have enough food.
I could survive anything.
Just not this.
Not Theo.
“How much?”
The doctor hesitated.
“The surgery itself is approximately two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
I stared at him.
“And everything else?”
“Postoperative care, medication, hospitalization, immunosuppressants, monitoring…”
He paused.
“You should prepare for approximately four hundred thousand dollars overall.”
Four hundred thousand.
The number didn’t make sense.
It was too large.
It wasn’t money.
It was a wall.
A wall standing between me and my son’s life.
“How soon can you do it?”
“We need a suitable donor and the surgical team ready. We need to begin immediately.”
“I’ll get the money.”
The words came out before I could think.
The doctor looked at me.
“I’ll get it.”
“You need to understand—”
“I’ll get it.”
I stood.
My legs felt weak.
“I don’t care what I have to do.”
Dr. Avery nodded slowly.
“Then start now.”
I walked out.
⸻
I made it outside the hospital before I broke.
The afternoon air hit my face.
People walked past me.
Cars moved along the street.
The world continued.
How?
How could everyone continue living when my son’s heart was failing?
I stopped beside the hospital wall.
My hands went into my hair.
Four hundred thousand dollars.
I had seven hundred dollars in my bank account.
Seven hundred.
That was it.
I didn’t own a house.
I didn’t own a car worth anything.
I had no savings.
No inheritance.
No wealthy relatives.
No parents.
No sister.
No one.
I had nobody to call.
I pulled out my phone anyway.
I stared at my contacts.
Who was I supposed to call?
Sarah?
What could she do?
My coworkers?
My landlord?
A stranger?
I had spent seven years making sure Theo never needed anyone.
I had worked until I was exhausted because I wanted to be enough for him.
And now, suddenly, I wasn’t enough.
I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the ground.
I covered my face.
And I cried.
Not quietly.
Not politely.
I cried like the eighteen-year-old boy who had once held a six-month-old baby and realized his entire life had changed.
Only this time, there was no decision I could make.
No job I could take.
No sacrifice I could make.
No amount of working harder that could save him.
My son needed a heart.
And I needed four hundred thousand dollars.
I looked up at the hospital.
Somewhere behind those walls, Theo was fighting for his life.
My little boy.
The child I had raised.
The child whose first steps I had watched.
The child who had called me Dad before he even understood what the word meant.
The child I had chosen every single day.
And now I couldn’t protect him.
That was the thought that destroyed me.
I pressed my hands against my face.
“Please.”
I didn’t know who I was talking to.
God.
The universe.
My parents.
Anyone.
“Please don’t take my son.”
My voice broke.
“I’ve already lost everyone.”
I looked toward the hospital doors.
“Please.”
I had spent seven years believing that no matter what happened, I would find a way.
But for the first time in my life, I didn’t have a way.
I had seventy-two hours.
Seven hundred dollars.
And a son whose heart was failing.
I didn’t know what I was going to do.
I only knew one thing.
I was not going to let Theo die.
If I had to beg, I would beg.
If I had to work until my body broke, I would work.
If I had to knock on every door in the city, I would knock.
Because I had already lost too much in my life.
I would not lose my son.
Not without a fight.
I stood slowly, wiped my tears, and looked back at the hospital.
My hands were still shaking.
My heart was still breaking.
But somewhere beneath the fear, something else began to rise.
Determination.
I had spent my entire life surviving impossible things.
This would be no different.
I would find the money.
I would find a donor.
I would find a way.
Because Theo was my son.
And fathers were supposed to fight for their children.
So I would fight.
Even if I had to fight the entire world.
- Writer
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