The simple house was transformed into a toy hospital where real worries were momentarily suspended. The father watched with a smile as the girls accurately reproduced medical terms they must have heard from him over the years. His heart swelled with pride, even as a sharper pain made him briefly catch his breath. “Dr. Iris, I think the patient needs some special medicine to get stronger,” Isabel declared earnestly, adjusting the invisible glasses on her small face.
He’s working too much at that hospital and needs to rest. It was then, as if Isabel’s words had conjured up the reality Iván was trying to deny, that the pain exploded in his chest, not like the previous twinges he managed to mask with deeper breaths or a subtle change of position. This was a devastating pain that made him clutch his chest with both hands and fall sideways, knocking over the small living room table. His face contorted in an expression of agony that his daughters had never seen before.
The three girls froze for a second. Their childhood world of games crumbled instantly before the terrifying reality. “Dad, what’s wrong?” “Dad!” Laya cried, the first to react, kneeling beside her father, who was now writhing on the floor. “Isabel, Iris, we really need help. This isn’t a game.” While Laya stayed by her father’s side, holding his hand with a strength disproportionate to a child her age, Isabel ran to the phone and dialed the emergency number that Ivan had made them all learn from a very young age.
Her voice, normally calm and methodical, trembled as she explained the situation to the operator. Iris, meanwhile, opened the front door and ran to the neighboring house, banging desperately until someone answered. The three of them, still so young, acted with instinctive coordination, as if they had rehearsed for this terrible moment. “Hold on, Dad, please, hold on,” Laya whispered, tears streaming freely down her face as she held her father’s hand. “The ambulance is coming. You’re going to be okay.”
“Do you promise? You have to promise.” The minutes that followed seemed like an eternity to the triplets. Ivan, wracked with pain, struggled to stay conscious, not for himself, but for his daughters who stared at him with terror in their eyes. The neighbor, an elderly gentleman who always helped the family when needed, arrived with Iris and knelt beside Ivan, offering words of encouragement that rang hollow given the gravity of the situation. Sweat trickled down Ivan’s pale forehead, contrasting sharply with the growing pallor that was taking hold of his face.
“My daughters, stay together,” Ivan murmured between labored breaths, squeezing Laya’s hand as he tried to reach the other two who were now kneeling beside him. “Never stop, promise.” When the ambulance finally arrived, its lights flashing and siren wailing down the quiet street, the paramedics acted quickly. They assessed Ivan’s vital signs, administered emergency medication, and placed him on the stretcher with precise and efficient movements. The triplets watched everything with wide eyes, clinging to one another, as if they were already putting into practice the promise their father had demanded.
The neighbor tried to comfort them, but his words seemed to come from far away, muffled by the buzzing of fear that filled the girls’ ears. “Can you come with him in the ambulance?” one of the paramedics said, noticing the desperation in the girls’ eyes. “You’re his daughters, aren’t you? Come. Stay together. Your father needs you now.” The ride to the hospital was a blur of lights, sounds, and fear. Sitting on a small bench inside the ambulance, the three girls held hands tightly as they watched the paramedics work on their father.
Ivan, now with an oxygen mask covering part of his face, kept his eyes fixed on his daughters whenever the pain allowed. There was a silent plea in that gaze, a supplication for them to remain strong, united, as they had always been since birth. “He’ll be okay. Please say he’ll be okay,” Iris asked the paramedic monitoring Ivan’s vital signs. “He’s the best father in the world. He can’t. He can’t.”
Upon arriving at the community hospital, the organized chaos of an emergency enveloped everyone. Ivan was quickly transferred to a hospital gurney and wheeled down a corridor, while the triplets ran to join him. Their small legs could barely keep up with the adults. A nurse gently tried to hold them back, explaining that they needed to wait, but the determination in Laya’s eyes made her reconsider. Understanding the situation, she allowed the girls to stay close, as long as they didn’t interfere with the medical team’s work.
“Doctor, these are your triplet daughters. From what I understand, they have no one else,” the nurse explained to the doctor who was now examining Iván. “I think it’s best to let them see their father when he’s stabilized. The situation seems complicated.” The following hours passed in a cold, impersonal waiting room, with the triplets sitting together in a single seat, as if merging into one could somehow lessen their fear. Nurses occasionally passed by offering glasses of water or asking kind questions that the girls barely registered.
The clock on the wall seemed to move in slow motion, each minute stretching into an hour. Laya kept her arm around Iris’s shoulders as she wept silently, while Isabel watched every movement in the corridor, calculating, analyzing, searching for any sign of hope. “He always took care of everyone,” Iris whispered, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her dress. “He never complained, even when he was exhausted. Why did this have to happen to him?” When the triplets were finally allowed to see their father, he had been transferred to a small but private room, a courtesy extended to a fellow doctor, even though he worked at a different hospital.
Leave a Comment