~Dil Dosti Etc New thread AR Excerpt pg 37 NEW~ - Page 6

Sorry for the delay! Shifting Uni, houses and studying for exams -.- Stress never finishes in your life -.-

Anyway, here is the next part. Had to do a bit of research for this because the Virgo in me wanted to be a perfectionist and wanted it to be as accurate to the medical terms as possible. I understand I am no doctor, so therefore I might have explained the procedure completely wrong, but i tried understanding as much as I could from the net and put it in words :)

Part 35

Ridhima furiously scrubbed her hands as she stared at her reflection in the mirror above. Her eyes stared back at her, displaying every bit of fear and nervousness that had built up inside. They were finally performing the surgery on Rajeev to get rid of the clots in his brain. While the surgery was relatively simple, it was the person she was scrubbing in with that gave her the jitters and made her uneasy.

Armaan Malik was going to be scrubbing in with her to remove the clots from their patient. While they had done a few surgeries and a delivery together, that time, they had been on friendly terms. Now an awkward air hung around them, suffocating them every time they came near each other.

Every time Ridhima found herself in close proximity, the past memories came rushing back, along with the mixed feelings for him. She was still struggling to hate him completely. Why was it so hard to hate him? Why couldn't she just cut him out of her life like she had done for the others?

Ridhima rushed down the corridors of her college, her shoulders tight with tension, taking in deep breaths as she felt the blood rushing through her veins. Again. Again he had stood her up. This time he hadn't even bothered calling up to apologise.

Blinking back the sudden tears, Ridhima made a sharp turn around the corridor and bumped into something hard.

Falling back on her butt, Ridhima winced at the pain now focussed on her bum, as she lifted herself up, collecting her books in the process.

"I am so sorry" Ridhima mumbled as she adjusted her hair and her bag. Looking up, she felt the colour draining from her face as she saw the scowling face of her sister.

"Ugh, can't you watch where you are walking Ridhima? I am already running late to a lecture!" Anjali shouted as she fixed her top and bent down to pick her books.

Ridhima sighed in exhaustion. The last thing she needed washer sister's anger. Sameer was already driving her up the wall, her studies pressure was mounting and Ridhima was finding it hard to cope with it all.

"I said I was sorry" Ridhima said again in an exhausted voice, rubbing her temples as she felt a headache coming on.

"Are you ok?" She heard Anjali ask. Opening her eyes, she was welcomed with a concerned look on Anjali's face rather than the stony cold one she usually put up. Not trusting her voice, Ridhima nodded and made to move away so Anjali could get past. But before she could, Anjali had grabbed her hand and turned Ridhima to face her again.

"Ridzi, I won't trust Sameer, if I was you" Anjali said quietly. Shocked and confused Ridhima could only stare at Anjali dumbfounded.

Why? Anjali never expressed much of an interest in Ridhima's life, much less her love life. Then why would she want her not to trust Sameer? Sure he wasn't being the best boyfriend right now, but didn't every relationship have a rough patch now and then.

Mutely nodding, Ridhima watched Anjali walking down the hall, a fear now brewing inside of her. Why would her own sister tell her not to date Sameer? Was it something she should be concerned of?

Pushing the fears aside, Ridhima continued to her class. She would have a talk with Sameer later.

Snapping out of her daydream, Ridhima focussed on the task ahead. A surgery had to be completed today. She had to concentrate on making sure nothing went wrong. She had to stay professional, had to keep her feelings to the side.

Holding her hands up, Ridhima pushed the door to the surgery open with her hip, and the nurse immediately dried her hands. Slipping on a pair of gloves, Ridhima's eyes fell upon Armaan who was doing the same. Their eyes met, and Ridhima immediately looked away.

Rajeev was placed on the bed in the middle of the room, surrounded by surgical equipment and monitors. Dr. Keerti walked in with her hands wet, dried them and put on the gloves. Putting on the surgical masks, Dr. Keerti walked over to Rajeev and asked how he was feeling, reassuring him the surgery was small and that he would be alright. Injecting in the anesthetic, the doctors and nurses waited till Rajeev was well under the spell of anesthesia.

Dr. Keerti motioned Armaan and Ridhima to come closer to the head of Rajeev. The nurse handed her a shaver, and Dr. Keerti gradually shaved a small portion of Rajeev's head to have access to his brain. Dr. Keerti then proceeded to make a hole in Rajeev's skull, and got Ridhima to hold back the bone flap which exposed the inners of Rajeev's head.

Ridhima concentrated on the task ahead, as she delicately held the bone flap back. She concentrated on the next step of the surgery as Dr. Keerti then made a smaller hole and inserted a light and camera to have a better visual of the brain and which areas she was performing on.

"This helps in knowing what you are doing, and being able to see better. Not all surgeons do this, and it's not necessary, it depends from surgery to surgery" Dr. Keerti explained. Ridhima nodded as she absorbed the information.

It suddenly seemed that the animosity with Armaan had disappeared. They were both professional doctors, scrubbing in a brain surgery of a patient of theirs. The adrenalin was racing through Ridhima as she saw the insides of the brain and the blood clots. Feeling her heart rate accelerate due to excitement, her eyes met Armaan's. During that brief second, it was almost a though the fight had never happened. It was almost as if they were back to being at the start of their internship, seeing a surgery for the first time and absorbing the life-changing experiences.

Ridhima looked away to concentrate at what Dr. Keerti was doing.

She saw as Dr. Keerti spotted a blood clot and then carefully removed it.

"Dr. Armaan would it be of alarm if Mr. Malhotra woke up right now?" Dr. Keerti questioned Armaan as she probed Rajeev's brain further.

"No. Because there are no pain receptors in the brain, he won't feel any pain. Some surgeons wake their patients up to map out the motor and speech areas of the brain while performing surgery" Armaan answered

"Good" Dr. Keerti said, pleased, as she removed another clot. "Dr. Ridhima, let go of the bone flap, and I want you to remove that clot placed there"

Ridhima carefully let go of the flap and handed the equipment back to the nurse. Carefully moviing next to Dr. Keerti, Ridhima grasped the endoscope firmly, and probed around for the blood clot. Focussing on the blood clot, Ridhima carefully tried removing it. Feeling the tension in her shoulders and the sweat forming on her brow, Ridhima removed the clot and placed it in the dish placed next to the bed.

"Good job" Dr. Keerti said pleased. "Dr. Armaan, I want you to remove the next one."

Ridhima felt him carefully walk up to her, and then placed his hands over hers to take the equipment. She felt her stomach drop slightly at the contact, however she slowly let go of the equipment till she was sure he had a firm grasp of it. Moving back, she allowed him to come in front of her, and then moved to stand next to him.

Watching him look for the next blood clot, Ridhima felt happy to see him so concentrated and dedicated in what he was doing. Realising that he was acting professional, and not letting their personal differences affect his work, Ridhima felt a small smile touch the corner of her lips, and felt her feelings for him grow.

Tearing her eyes away from him Ridhima watched the screen to see him locate the blood clot and remove it slowly and place it in the dish.

"Good job" Dr. Keerti said as she took over, and started removing a few more blood clots.

Removing the last clot, Dr. Keerti turned to Armaan and Ridhima. "I want both of you to patch Mr. Malhotra up, and prescribe him painkillers because he is going to have a headache tomorrow. Then I want you to make rounds to the ICU at least 2-3 times daily, to make sure no complications have arisen and he is doing fine."

She then proceeded to remove the gloves and go wash off her hands. Ridhima awkwardly looked at Armaan, not sure who was going to finish off the surgery.

Armaan signalled for Ridhima to patch up, but then Ridhima remembered how Armaan had given her another opportunity in the previous surgery they had done where they had to deliver a baby. Feeling obligated to let Armaan have his moment, even if it was just stitching up, Ridhima shook her head and motioned for him to finish up.

She saw as he rolled his eyes in amusement and took the needle to stitch up the head. She saw as he carefully and with patience attended to the patient. She saw as he frowned in concentration, his piercing eyes fixed on the patient in front of him, and his hands steady. She hated to admit it, but she admired his work ethic. If there was one thing she wanted from Armaan, it was his ability to enjoy life and not let it affect his dreams or career.

After finishing up, Ridhima and Armaan told the nurse a few more instruction, noted down the pain-killer to be administered and how often, then proceeded to the wash room.

She could still feel the awkwardness around her. How was she to act? He had betrayed her trust not even a few hours ago. She was so desperate to go back to the way they were that she almost opened her mouth and forgave him.

Catching herself at the last minute, Ridhima frowned and scrubbed her hands furiously. What was she doing? She was running after a guy who obviously showed no interest in her. Had she no self-respect?

Drying her hands and getting rid of her dirty scrubs, Ridhima started towards the exit.

Don't look at him. Don't look at him. Don't look at him

She chanted the mantra in her head as she went towards the door.

Though she was still angry with him, she was even more saddened by the fact that he still hadn't apologised or made an effort to patch things up. Did she really mean nothing to him? Didn't he want to go back to at least being friends?

Walking away with a heavy heart, and with a burning throat from holding back the tears, Ridhima pushed open the door and closed it quietly behind her.

He never called out to her.

******

Armaan stared at Ridhima through his mirror as he cleaned his hands post-surgery. The surgery had been the only way of being with Ridhima for over an hour, and as sappy as it sounded, Armaan loved just having her there, standing next to him.

He watched as she furiously scrubbed at her hands, her face frowning and her mind far away, thinking of something. Her hair was tied back, and he itched to pull it out of the tie just to see it fall loosely around her shoulders.

He wished to hold her and tell her everything would be ok. They would be okay. That he...bloody hell...that he might actually feel something for a girl.

Not just for any girl..for her. Ridhima Gupta, the two goody shoes had ensnared Armaan Malik, and she didn't even know it. He felt a small smile touch at the corner of her lips as she got rid of the dirty scrubs, still over-thinking something in that pretty head of hers.

His smile dropped as he saw the depressed look on her face as she continued to walk towards the door. He wanted to turn around, wanted to finish this stupid fight, wanted to apologise. But his voice wouldn't come out. His feet wouldn't move, and his hands lay motionless under the continuous stream of water.

He watched as she walked slowly towards the door, her shoulders stiff with tension, her head held high, and her hands balled up into fists. He wasn't sure whether it was because he was in the room, or because she was over-thinking of something, but he had a pretty good idea that he was the cause of such anguish and turmoil in Ridhima.

A knot of guilt formed in Armaan's stomach. Nikki was right. Armaan had to be mature this time. Ridhima was really hurt by his antics. He had to apologise.

Tonight. Armaan thought as he closed the tap and threw away his dirty scrubs. I'll apologise, tonight.

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