her eyes moving to Dex, filling with immediate gratitude. “It’s so nice to see you again, Dr. Hamilton.”
Dex turned to them and rose to his feet as he approached them, his hand outstretched. With a very small smile that seemed forced, he shook her hand. “It’s nice to see you too, Mrs. Torres. Please call me Dex.”
She smiled. “Then call me Angelica.”
He nodded then turned to her husband and extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Her husband grabbed Dex’s hand and squeezed it for a long time, holding on to it like it was a lifeline, and he looked into Dex’s face like he didn’t know what to say, to express how thankful he was that Dex came out of retirement to see him.
Dex was patient as he waited, giving Mr. Torres all the time he needed, as if he understood exactly how he felt.
Mr. Torres finally dropped his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Dr. Hamilton. Thank you…thank you for seeing me. You have the hands of God and the heart of a saint, and we’re so thankful that you’re doing this. So grateful…because you’re my last hope.”
It was hard to watch their interaction and not get caught up in it, to witness such a heartfelt conversation that was almost too raw to digest.
Dex stared at him for a long time, as if he didn’t have a single clue what to say to that. “I’m going to do my best to take care of you, Mr. Torres.”
“Marc,” he said quickly. “Call me Marc.”
Dex gave a nod in understanding. “And call me Dex.”
This guy had no ego at all, not when he preferred to be called by his first name and took no identity from his title. It was strange, to see someone who cared so much about healing people but didn’t necessarily want to be associated with that passion.
They took their seats on the couch.
Andrea brought the paperwork to Dex and laid it on the table in front of him.
As if Angelica and Marc weren’t across from him, Dex grabbed the paperwork and examined it, taking his time as he looked at everything. With the EKG, he took his pencil and make a couple marks on it. He released a loud sigh, the kind that made his back and chest deflate toward his spine.
Angelica glanced at her husband before she looked at Dex. “What is it?”
Dex continued to stare at the paperwork before he finally set it down. His hands came together between his knees, and he stared down at the floor for a while. “We have even less time than we thought.”
The meeting lasted for nearly an hour, and Dex discussed the full picture of Mr. Torres’s heart condition, how everything was affecting his bodily function as a whole, and exactly how he intended to fix it.
Dex never interrupted his patients, never got annoyed with all the questions, and when they didn’t understand something, he was happy to repeat what he said, and if they still didn’t get it, he would explain it in a different way.
He had more empathy and kindness than anyone I’d ever met.
This guy was like the Pope or something.
“So, what are his chances?” Angelica asked, a wet tissue balled into her hand.
Dex rubbed his palms together slowly as he considered his response. “Less than 50%. There’s a lot that can go wrong when I get in there. I’ll be assisted by a pulmonary specialist as well, and I already have someone in mind for the position. I haven’t asked him yet, but he’ll say yes.”
Angelica nodded slowly.
Marc was eerily calm, even though he was the one with his life on the line. “And how much is all this going to cost?”
Dex gave a slight shrug. “I can’t say with complete accuracy because the insurance companies have a lot of input when it comes to coverage, and even if your insurance says they’ll cover it, there’s a good chance they’ll find a good reason to only cover half or whatever bullshit. To be frank, your insurance isn’t that great, so you’re looking to pay for most of this out of pocket, which will come out to…at least five hundred thousand.”
Angelica immediately inhaled a sharp breath at the number.
Marc dropped his gaze in defeat.
“If I donate my time, I can drop that number down significantly, but all the other costs are unavoidable. The nurses, the procedure center, drugs, et cetera. They’re unavoidable. But we can get the rest covered by my charity organization, so