A doctorate from Johns Hopkins University hung from the wall surrounded by hundreds of “thank you” cards. Beneath the clutter sat Doctor Adrian Kowalski in his kushy leather swivel chair eyeing his daily itinerary with a pencil twitching between his fingers. Shifting his weight the chair spun to face the mirror behind him.  Quickly combing his coarse, short brown hair, he stared into his deep brown eyes before quickly glancing away.  Hunching over to avoid hitting the door frame, , Doctor Kowalski entered Lothrop Hall of the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center walking with his journal clenched in his hand that his parents had given him when he was little just before they had died. He constantly fills it with new pages to keep their memory alive. Even through his rocky relationship with his neglecting parents Adrian had cherished the journal, especially since their death. He was left alone under the care of his nanny for most of his childhood, usually keeping to himself. He did not socialize with many of the other kids in school and had trouble forming lasting relationships.  His closest colleague, Nurse Kim, greatly respected him for his several successful operations, but never took a liking to his, often, melancholy presence.

Eyes jolt up as the emergency room doors burst open on  a particularly slow day at  the hospital. Doctor Kowalski hears her high-pitched voice louder than ever through all the chaos, “Doctor Kowalski! Patient with severe concussion is being taken to the ICU immediately!” A slender teenage boy with thick blonde hair lay motionless on the stretcher while being rushed towards the operating rooms. Nurse Kim dashed over to the doctor. “His name is Michael Storm. He’s only 17 years-old and may have permanent  brain damage. We need you to operate Adrian! Only you can do this! Doctor Kowalski burst through the doors of the room barely leaving the hinges intact. Smeared with blood and bruises, the boy’s face pulled emotions out of the doctor that he did not realize he could feel. “Nurse! I need an EEG and pulse reading on the boy!” the doctor shouted. Nurse Kim hastily fixed the EEG and the machine beeped twice and began projecting colorful waves.The recorded BPM of Matthew was below optimal but the unusually slim amplitude clearly indicated a particular state as observed by Doctor Kowalski. “It appears that Matthew is in a coma. Nurse, I need information on the cause of the brain injury,” he solemnly mentioned to his close colleague. Matthew had been driving home from volleyball practice at school and was struck by another car. The driver of the other vehicle only suffered minor injuries because the opposite side of the car hit the vehicle. He tested positive for intoxication and was arrested shortly after the accident. Unfortunately, the young boy was caught in the crossfire of the man’s reckless behavior and his brain may never operate the same again. After an hour of further diagnosis, Doctor Kowalski exited the room and made his way towards the Family Resource Center (FRC) to address Matthew’s family. His ability to empathize was not on par with his medical expertise and he always found giving information to patients’ loved ones to be one of the most difficult parts of his occupation.

Sliding the doors open to the FRC, a middle-aged woman actively paces while a young boy sulks into his chair with drowsy eyes. Both of their faces hung below their necks, seemingly avoiding reality. Doctor Kowalski carefully steps towards them, trying not to disturb their silence. As he approaches, Mrs. Storm’s crying intensified until she finally opened her arms and hugged him with all the might her small, frail body could muster. “Is he going to be alright?” she let out through her sobbing, wiping away tears. The doctor looked her in the eye and gave her a soft nod. “I’m afraid your son is in a coma,” he told her. Matthew’s younger brother got up from his seat and walked over towards his mother still tightly grasping Doctor Kowalski. He had the same facial features as his older brother: messy blonde hair and striking blue eyes, but with an innocent and more youthful presence “What’s a coma?” he questioned. “It’s nothing Jonathan, he’ll be just fine,” his mother quickly retorted, “You stay here, I’m going to talk with Doctor Kowalski in private.” The young boy drooped his head and stumbled back to his seat. He watched, the doctor’s eyes begin to water and feel his sympathy. What the boy did not know was that this type of sympathy was a new feeling for the doctor. During the lengthy talk with Mrs. Storm, he discovered more about Matthew’s life prior to the incident. The family lived in Homewood, a notoriously dangerous part of Pittsburgh. He was a prospective Division 1 athlete as the captain of his volleyball team and his mother was hoping that his ability would earn him a college education. Learning more made Doctor Kowalski grow fond towards Mrs. Storm and her youngest son. While carefully observing Matthew’s conditions for the following weeks, he would spend much of his free time with the two. He would occasionally take Jonathan to get a snack at the Pittsburgh Ice Cream Company nearby and would occupy his time by playing board games with him. It was difficult for the boy to grasp the condition his older brother was in. “He’s taking a long nap, but he will wake up soon,” Doctor Kowalski promised with a hopeful smile.

The days that week seemed to stretch for hours and hours and the bond between Doctor Kowalski and Jonathan was the only thing improving. Matthew’s brain activity remained stagnant and Nurse Kim began to worry that his condition would persist for much longer. Spontaneous temperature and pH fluctuations were few among the other complications that began to arise. Doctor Kowalski could not determine a proper diagnosis based on all of the symptoms. “Matthew is exhibiting some unusual symptoms, but I assure you he will be fine,” he repeatedly assured Mrs. Smith. In reality, he did not know whether her son would be fine. As November set in, the Smith family began visiting the hospital much more often, even through the chilly Pittsburgh weather, relying on the hope they were given. “Nurse Kim, I’m going to need you to administer another MRI,” Doctor Kowalski ordered as he observed a decline in Matthew’s condition.. “Mrs. Smith and Jonathan, I’m going to need you to stay clear of the operating room for the next few hours,” he told them, afraid they would see the test results. After thirty minutes of processing the scan images, Doctor Kowalski and Nurse Kim both began the examination. After one glance, all dots connected. A large tumor was nudging the hypothalamus: the part of the brain responsible for rest. The infection creeped through Matthew’s parietal lobe and brainstem. Without saying a word, Kowalski walked out the door while masking the storm of emotion inside of him.

Early in the morning on Monday the following week, Matthew passed away from a malignant brain tumor spread across multiple lobes in his brain. By the time he entered the emergency room, the damage was irreversible and it was unfortunate that he was not diagnosed sooner. With the help of Doctor Kowalski, Mrs. Smith was able to afford a proper funeral for Matthew. Doctor Kowalski stood by the family’s side through their recovery and attends all of Jonathan’s volleyball games.