Prolog
Disoriented, the man stumbled down the long corri dor, stopping to read the signs on the doors, which all looked the same.
"Dr. Tilman Weller", he read aloud, giggling, "Surgery Assistent 2, Station 5. I found you!"
He knocked on the door, but no one answered.
"Must be having a coffee break", he grinned, "or flir ting with one of the young sisters. Can't even blame him."
Again he giggled like a schoolboy.
"Then the surgery room isn't far either", he mused aloud, "I have to ask Weller what we're going to ope rate on today. Not that I'm going to remove an appen dix, even though the patient has a brain aneurysm."
He burst out laughing again.
"I'll have to tell Dr. Weller about that right away", he chuckled, "if I can find him anywhere."
A nurse came hurrying down the aisle.
"Professor, there you are", she called out to him re proach fully, "we've been looking for you everywhere. You shouldn't be walking around here alone in your... condition!"
"Oh Sister Nora!" he laughed amused, "you're funny! Somehow I got totally lost again. I don't know what's going on with me today, but I'm kind of in a good mood. Where are we actually?"
"It's all right, Herr Professor", the nurse answered patiently, "here's your office. Just sit down at the desk. Dr. Weller has everything under control."
Drama in the Discotheque
The music was loud and the dance floor was packed with people dancing to the rhythm of the beat. Some all by themselves, many with a partner and some in a small group of friends who met regularly on Saturday nights at the 'Club Colosseum'.
Isabella had come with her friend Corinna. She was glad that she had finally turned sixteen and that her parents were allowing her to go out until 11am.
The interior of the 'Club Colosseum' was designed like a Roman arena. In the center of the circular building was the dance floor, separated from the outer ring by columns and arches made of Styrofoam and plaster. There were comfortable lounges where you could sit comfortably, and there was also a well-stocked bar where colorful cocktails were mixed. If you were old enough for it.
Her friend gave her a sign. You couldn't talk at that volume, but they understood each other really well without words. The two girls left the dance floor and went to the women's room, checked the make-up and corrected it a bit until everything looked perfect again.
"Did you see the guy at the bar who kept looking at us?" Corinna asked her, "I think he likes you."
"Are you sure?" Isabella wasn't. There were so many exciting women in the club and she always had the feeling that nobody but her friend was interested in her.
"But of course", Corinna assured her, "that was ob vious. If you don't screw it up, he'll make you happy tonight."
"It shouldn't be me", laughed Isabella.
"Have you got the condom?"
Isabella slid her hand into the pocket of her tight black pants, making sure she was prepared. Corinna had told her about her last visit here. She and her friend waited impatiently for two weeks until they finally knew that their negligence had no consequences that they would regret for the rest of their lives.
"All right", she said to Corinna.
Hearts pounding, they returned to the room and sat at the bar.
The young man looked at Isabella and she smiled at him. He had actually noticed her.
"I'm going to go dancing", Corinna shouted in her ear, "have fun!"
A little later he sat down with her.
"Hey, beautiful", he said to her, "I've noticed you all along. Can I buy you something to drink?"
"I'd love to", she smiled. He looked a lot better up close than from afar, "a coke would be great."
He got up and squeezed through the group that had formed around them.
"I'm Marcel", he introduced himself when he finally brought her the coke.
"Isabella", she replied, taking a long sip from her coke.
"Nice to meet you, Isabella", Marcel told her, "Wow, you have beautiful eyes!"
He didn't really care about her eyes. Other body parts interested him much more. Shouldn't he lay her before he delivered her?
He sighed. His client wouldn't like that. His instruct tions had been clear and precise. What a pity!
"Thank you", beamed the girl, "you're nice." Her smile was almost irresistible.
Corinna came over to her and she apologized to Mar cel, "don't run away, I'll be right back", she said to him.
"Well, how's it going?" Corinna asked her.
"Oh he's cute", beamed Isabella, "I'm sure he really cares about me."
"Then take him", her friend encouraged her, "you de serve to have fun."
Isabella got a little embarrassed. Now there was no tur ning back. She had the boy hooked. In fact, nothing could go wrong now. Once again she checked that the bag with the condom was really in her pocket.
Corinna took her in her arms and hugged her. "Have fun", she grinned.
"I'll have that", she replied, and she returned to Marcel at the bar.
"Would you like to dance?" she asked him and drank the last of her coke. The last sip tasted bitter, but she didn't think about it.
"I'd love to", he said, taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor.
They danced close together in the dense crowd of other guests. Isabella met his eyes and he let his eyes travel over her body. Her legs danced all by themselves to the fast rhythm of the music. His admiring looks and anticipation for the rest of the night intoxicated her even more than the fun of the dance and the mu sic.
It made her a little dizzy, but she tried to ignore it. She would enjoy this night to the full, that much was clear.
She tripped over her own feet while dancing, but Mar cel reacted and caught her. She would like to ask him right now if he would accompany her home, and...
The dizziness increased. What was wrong with her? She hadn't drunk anything but the cola.
The music, the colored light from the spotlights and the closeness of her companion put her in an intoxi cating mood and she wished this feeling would never end.
She tripped over her own feet again, but this time he couldn't catch her in time. She fell in slow motion, seeing the ground coming towards her and passed out as she landed hard with a hard impact.
Cross-Section
She woke up in a strange bed with a numb feeling and a massive headache. She opened her eyes and saw a bare white ceiling above her. Where did she end up?
She remembered Marcel. Had she gone home with him like she had planned? She had no memory of it.
She turned her head and stared in amazement at the bars of the hospital bed. What happened? Had she had an accident?
She tried to raise her hand but her body wouldn't obey her. She tried to sit up, but she couldn't do that either.
Miserable crap!
"I think she's awake", she heard a woman's voice say.
"It was about time", answered another.
The nurse's face appeared above her.
"Good morning, Isabella", she said kindly, "I'm Sister Nora. I'm glad you slept in. How are you feeling?"
"Pathetic", the girl replied, "like a herd of elephants had trampled on my skull."
"We'll give you something for the pain right away", Sister Nora promised, "but first I'll call the doctor treating you so he can talk to you."
Wow, that sounded serious. Was there more bad news than the accidental meeting with Marcel? She hadn't even been able to ask him for his number.
Hope he wasn't mad at her...
* * *
Dr. Thorsten Mahler was a specialist in neurology and brain surgeon at Heidelberg University Hospital. He was considered one of the best in his field. He had a reputation among peers for being innovative and adventurous, and he worked with high-tech companies around the world, which, in addition to funding his ambitious research, gave him access to the best people in the world.
He was not very popular with his employees. He was considered uncompromising and merciless. Everything had to be his own way, and anyone who made a mistake was reprimanded in front of the entire team and, in the worst case, lost his well-paid job if they were replaceable.
They called him behind closed doors Dr. Painless, because with his questionable treatment methods he did not shy away from interventions that demanded a lot of pain and agony from his patients.
When he visited Isabella, he was accompanied by a long train of employees.
"Ah, our paraplegia woke up", he greeted without bothering to shake her hand, which she couldn't move anyway, "what are we going to do with you? Is she stable enough for a chip implantation procedure?"
"The values are fine", replied one of the doctors, "if she agrees, we can schedule the surgery in the next few days."
"Very good", replied Dr. Mahler, talk to her and her parents, take care of the formalities and postpone every thing that was planned for tomorrow afternoon. The girl has top priority."
And before Isabella could ask one of her many questions, his visit was over and he disappeared
with the whole entourage of companions.
Her parents were already waiting in front of the door. Her mother looked tired and exhausted. Her eyes were swollen from crying and her hair wasn't perfectly styled as usual.
"Oh Isa, you're alive", she cried and began to sob again. She rushed to her bed.
"Hey Mom", Isabella replied, "I'm not dead yet. The doctor said I was paraplegic."
"Cheer up", her father said, trying to smile optimisti cally, "we'll get through this together."
That didn't seem particularly helpful to the girl either. He was never there when she needed him.
Corinna was the next visitor.
"You do things, sweetie!" she said to her friend and hugged her.
"Tell me, did I actually sleep with Marcel?" Isabella asked her friend, "I didn't catch anything anymore..."
"No, you just fell over on the dance floor", Corinna replied.
"Fortunately", said Isabella relieved, "did he say some thing? Does he want to see me again?"
Now that I'm handicapped, probably not, she thought disappointedly.
"I don't think so", Corinna replied, "by the time the emergency doctor came, he had disappeared without a trace."
Great. I always wanted a lover like that, thought Isa bella. Marcel could have liked her.
* * *
The last visitor was Dr. Tilman Weller, the doctor that Dr. Mahler had spoken.
"Can you help me", Isabella asked the doctor, "or am I paralyzed forever now? Will I always have to let others help me in the future and will I never have my own life?"
"There's a new approach", he replied, "officially it's not yet a proven therapeutic method. A microchip could restore a connection between the brain and nerves. To heal you get a chip in your brain that you can use to control the muscles.
Great. At least there was a small glimmer of hope for her.
"The procedure is not very easy", he continued, "but we have a very experienced team here at the university hospital. The chances that it will work are not bad."
He hesitated for a moment. That was the good news.
"Of course you will have to learn a lot again, but the specialists in rehabilitation are very experienced. If the operation goes well and the chip connects to the nervous system, you will be able to walk again in a few months. Maybe even dance again."
"And surfing?" Isabella wanted to know, "I would love to stand on a surfboard again, ride the waves and feel the water on my skin."
"Yes, that too. What do you say? Should we try the procedure?"
"Yes please try", she replied.
The decision was not difficult for her. Anything was better than this miserable state.
"If there's a
Impressum
Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG
Bildmaterialien: Jenni Eales
Cover: Jenni Eales
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 18.08.2023
ISBN: 978-3-7554-5019-1
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