Three days had already passed and he was still there waiting, his mother fidgeting nervously, swearing like anyone would take her for a waitress in a bar.
When the pain came, the boy would writhe like the best contortionist and the scream would make its way through the corridors of the hospital and his mother would cry out of helplessness.
The doctor on duty told her that the operating theatre was not air-conditioned and the surgeon and his surgical team could not operate in those conditions.
When the hospital director arrived, the boy's mother, who was already a man, tackled him violently and they almost went to the floor.
—Calm down, ma'am!
—That's not your son! He's mine! The blood hurts! There can't be so much ineptitude!
The nurses injected him again and he calmed down a bit.
—Have they told him the inconvenience? It's not advisable to have surgery in these conditions.
—What I want is to be saved! My son is dying...
—I'll call the doctor and we'll talk...
—But I spoke from here, you don't have to go to your office...
—It's all right, ma'am.
The director adjusted his dressing gown and took his mobile phone and dialed a number.
The mother went to attend to her son, not taking her eyes off the director. She knew those painkillers were not strong enough to relieve the pain.
The director approached.
—They're on their way, I just ask for a little patience, we'll see how we solve it.
The director moved nervously, those screams had upset him and he couldn't continue with the meeting he had with the paediatric nurse, he regretted that all the effort to hold her in his arms had gone down the drain because of those screams.
—Here comes the surgeon, Mr. Director! —said a nurse.
The surgeon was chatting with his staff, each with a glass of coffee in his hand.
The mother ran towards him, causing him to spill the coffee, which left a large stain on his gown.
—Madam, what have you done? —shouted the headmaster.
—Yes, ma'am! You have stained my dressing gown, — said the doctor.
At that moment, the boy let out another scream that moved the walls and ended up spilling all the cups of coffee. The doctor decided to change his mind.
—All right! I'll take him to the operating theatre, — said the doctor. —Nurses, get him ready!
—Are you going to operate on him, doctor? —asked the director.
—Yes! We'd better do it before the windowpanes start breaking. Come on! Let's go up to that furnace and may God have mercy on our souls.
—Doctor! Doctor! Are you going to save my life? —said the boy.
—You, it's an emergency and you have to be operated on, we're going to be like a meeting of vultures waiting for the carrion... we'll do everything we can so that you won't be in any more pain.
The doctor smiled sarcastically.
The boy writhed again and let out a scream that swept the dust from the corridors. The boy's mother had to be sedated.
The surgeon just smiled. As the anaesthesia began to take effect, the boy watched as the vultures licked their lips waiting for him to kick the bucket.