Of all the dozens of people on that road, why did it have to be Mikel?
It was the question Mikel had asked himself many times over the past two months since the incident that had left him blind. He was standing nearly the farthest from the crash, yet that metal fragment just had to land in his eye.
He looked up at his attending doctor with his left eye covered by a bandage. Mikel's physical appearance had changed — he had lost weight, and his remaining eye was still blurry, a result of the incident. His complexion was pale, and his skin sagged slightly.
"I can… regain my vision?" His voice carried disbelief.
For the past grueling months, he had been told he might never regain his sight, and one of his eyes had already deteriorated. After all, a metal shard had grazed it, too.
The doctor smiled and nodded. "We found you a match, Mikel. And you don't have to worry about the cost because of what type of surgery it was. All you have to do is decide as soon as possible. Time is important."
A small bubble of hope crept into his chest. Despite his blind left eye and blurry right eye, for the first time in two months, he saw a sliver of hope shining down on him.
So, the doctor's question wasn't really a question. Who wouldn't want to see again, especially with the chances of going completely blind so high?
Even so, he asked the most obvious question at this point:
"What's the catch? Doc, if there isn't, you wouldn't be asking me this."
"You're right," the doctor sighed. "It's just that the donor who matched yours… has a unique eye color. The color isn't the same as yours."
"But it works, right?"
"Of course." The doctor pulled up a chair and sat down. His expression turned serious. "But Mikel, whether it works or not, that's not the most important thing. The surgery is extremely complex and still in its experimental stage. The chances of success are slim, and you might not—"
"I'll get the surgery."
"Mikel—"
"I understand what you're saying, Doc. But the chances of me going completely blind are high, so I might as well take this chance, no matter how slim it is." Mikel's resolve was unbending. "I'll get the surgery. My left eye is already gone, anyway. What's there to lose?"
The doctor sighed, but smiled faintly. "We'll prepare you for surgery as soon as possible. Don't worry. The surgeon performing it is one of the best."
"Thank you."
Had Mikel known the catch was more than just the eye color and its success rate, he might have reconsidered. But regret would come later, not now. And he would have to live with this decision for the rest of his life.
---
Two weeks later…
Mikel felt a pair of hands gently touch the back of his head as the surgeon who had performed the surgery began to remove the bandages from around his eyes. As the bandage loosened, the tension in the air grew.
"Are you ready, Mike?"
He didn't answer, but he couldn't help but think,
If this didn't work… I didn't know what I'd do. I hadn't let myself think that far.
Nurses and other doctors, and even some from the management, held their breaths, watching as Mikel opened his eyes.
Light was the first thing Mikel saw, causing him to squint and shut his eyes again.
"Carefully," the doctor said, motioning for a nurse to close the curtain. "No need to rush, Mike."
Listening to his voice, Mikel slowly cracked his eyes open again. This time, the light was softer. He kept his eyes partially open, blinking carefully. Everything was a blur — just blurred colors and figures.
"How is it, Mike?" the surgeon asked.
Mikel didn't answer immediately, blinking slowly as he stared at his hand. "It's still… a blur."
"That's alright." The surgeon, who had performed the surgery, sat down on the edge of the bed and faced him squarely. "Let's test your eye."
With that, the doctor covered Mikel's right eye and raised an eyebrow, looking back at him curiously.
"Can you see anything with this one?"
Again, everyone waited with bated breath. If this worked, it could be a medical breakthrough.
"Uh," Mikel cleared his throat. "Yes, but it's blurry."
The moment the words left his mouth, the nurses and doctors in the room let out a collective sigh of relief. The surgeon leaned forward.
"Let me check, Mike." The doctor flashed a light in Mikel's eye and nodded in satisfaction.
Mikel's eye was healing faster than expected, and it was reacting to light. But as this happened, Mikel couldn't help but ask,
"Uh, doctor? I can see this blue thing. Is that normal? It's like a blue light — lines, but faint."
"It's probably because your eyes are still adjusting, Mike. It should go away once you've rested."
"Ah."
"Is there anything else? Does it hurt? Itchy? Stinging?"
"No. Aside from it being a little blurry and these blurred lines, it's fine."
"Alright." The surgeon checked his eye once more, then checked the other.
Since Mikel lived alone after his grandmother's passing, he had been staying at the hospital since the incident. Thanks to his late grandmother, all the costs were covered by the insurance she left for him. Since the surgery was experimental, the surgeon didn't charge any professional fees, and, successful or not, the hospital would take care of his aftercare for free as part of his participation in the medical breakthrough.
As the surgeon prepared to leave, Mikel asked again.
"Doc, this blue thing… it will disappear, right? It's bothering me a little. It's like blinking or something."
"Yes," the surgeon nodded. "Just like when you stare at the bright sky for a while and see dark spots, it will eventually go away. For now, you'll need to wear these eye shields."
He reached out and squeezed Mikel's shoulder. "You did a good job, kid."
With that, the surgeon and the others left, all with wide grins on their faces.
Mikel rested, staring at the ceiling, but his focus was on the strange blue lines he was seeing. He covered his right eye, but the blue lines were still there. When he covered the other, they disappeared.
"It's probably nothing," he whispered. "It will eventually disappear once it heals."
But a week later, as Mikel's vision started to clear up, the blue lines didn't disappear. If anything, it was clearer.
"What the hell is this?"