was usually
arrayed under an , umbrella-like frame, but this OR, designed especially for
transplantation surgery, had a special ventilation system to keep it germ-free,
and the lights had been designed to impede the flow of air as little as
possible. They looked just like the bottom of a flying saucer and gave a clear
definition to everything in the room, from the outlines of all the equipment to
the doctors’ expressions and color of a patient’s organs.
Bubbles of disinfectant
solution scintillated on Mariko’s skin. One of the surgical assistants inserted
a catheter into her bladder to clean it out. This rinsing, too, had to occur in
a germ-free state.
“Present time is 6:47 pm. It
has been 76 minutes since heart stoppage and 40 minutes since the kidney
extraction.”
“OK. Let’s begin.”
With the catheter left in place,
Yoshizumi set to make the first incision. He made a mark from the left side of
her torso to just above her genitals and cut along this line with a standard
scalpel. At this point he switched to an electric scalpel, which he would be
using for the duration of the procedure. He cut through the rectus fascia,
exposing the external obliques and rectus sheath. The obliques were located on
either side of the abdomen and were red in color, while the sheath was white.
Yoshizumi carefully ran the electric scalpel along the area where these two
joined. Next, he opened the edge of the rectus sheath, then slowly cut the
secondary layer underneath it. Mariko’s first transplant two years ago had been
to the right-hand side. This time, it would be her left.
A transplanted kidney was not
actually situated in its natural location, but slightly lower, closer to the
pelvis. The kidney was therefore connected not to the aorta abdominalis or vena
cava inferior, but instead routed to the internal iliac artery and vein. This
lower spot wasn’t hindered by other organs and permitted a speedy operation.
Yoshizumi carefully peeled
off the peritoneum, exposing the gastroepiploic vessels. One by one, he bound
the lymph nodes that ran along the bottom of these vessels and clamped them off
to prevent unwanted excretions from saturating the operating field. Next, the
inner iliac artery and vein were both severed in advance to avoid veinal
thrombosis during attachment. Yoshizumi also clamped back the inner iliac
artery with forceps and cut off a moderate amount of its remaining length.
Using an injection needle, he cleansed the inside of the artery with heparin to
avoid clotting.
Yoshizumi took a breath and
checked the placement of his incisions. With the cavity held open by silver
forceps, numerous bindings were visible. Forceps clamped vessels shut. An
assistant wiped away the blood left inside. The field was clear. He could see
the ilium’s blood vessels very well now and there was no evidence of
hemorrhaging. Now, he could finally attach the kidney into Mariko’s body.
At that moment, Yoshizumi
suddenly felt hot.
Startled, he lifted his face.
The assistants around him continued working as if nothing were wrong. He looked
around the room, but no one else seemed to notice.
Then, the assistant across
from him interrupted with a suspicious glance.
“Is something wrong?”
“No...” Yoshizumi muttered
from under his mask.
The heat continued. As he
tried to get his bearings, he sought the source of the sensation. He was
perspiring heavily, but the air felt the same. The heat was all inside him. A
nurse wiped his forehead. He was sweating.
Before long, the heat
subsided and he was back to normal. The assistants checked on him once more to
make sure he was still up to the task. He assured them with a raised hand and
returned his attention to the operating table.
What was that? he
thought. It wasn’t a dizzy spell, the heat didn’t assail just his head, but his
entire body. Just when he’d pictured the