A Man With a Biological Pump in His Chest
by Avelino Benavides
Richard Thompson woke up drenched in sweat. He felt something inside his chest pumping and thumping violently. He was very scared. Never ever before he had felt something like that.
He placed his right hand on his left breast and in the silence of the night he stood still sitting on his bed listening. He realized that whatever was inside him, it had a rhythm. He could feel it in his head, on his hand, and soon realized it was making noise too.
He thought of rushing to the hospital. “Call an ambulance?” he wondered. “Maybe wait a few hours and take the first train.” He could not make up his mind. He stood still for an hour feeling and listening, feeling and listening to the thing inside his thorax.
He calmed himself down and decided he would wait for the morning since there was no pain whatsoever. It was only the unusual feeling of something beating inside his chest.
He tried to conceive sleep without luck at first. He had always been a good sleeper, but this time his mind was flooded with thoughts and feelings. He had mixed emotions and contradictory feelings about pretty much everything and everyone. He could not stop thinking over and over on the minute details of every thing that happened to him the previous day. The last thing in his mind was the pumping inside his body. After a few hours he finally fell asleep.
Richard Thompson was the only son of Samuel Thompson and Judith Cohen. They had passed away ten years ago. He was alone in the world, but not lonely. He had grown up alone and loneliness was something he had become comfortable and familiar with, like pair of tough leather shoes worn for many years. Like all children his age, his parents, grand parents and numerous generations before him, a team of specialists in a group of 11 children raised him. Upon till he was 18 he never met anyone else but his parents, the specialists and his classmates. He was specially shy and reclusive. During breaks he vehemently refused to chitchat with the other children or to talk to an adult without being spoken to first. All of that behavior came naturally, and far from alarming anyone it gave a clear indication of his personality and how he could contribute to society. Months before his high school graduation he was handed down a career path that was decided the day he became 15 years of age. He would only have to decide whether to take it or start working in something else right now. For him, it was an easy choice and decided to take a four-year degree that will gain him automatic entry to the McCluskey-Humphreys Institute for Genetic Engineering to work correcting DNA sequences for cattle animals. At university he met a girl for whom he fell head over heels. This girl manipulated him and sucked every last fragment of humanity and empathy towards other people (not that he had much empathy to begin with). He felt, like many people after their intimate feelings are shattered for the very first time, he could never love again. Except that unlike most of the people, he actually carried that sadness around like a casted iron anchor around his waist. He let go of the girl, but not of the dismal sensation that numbed his innards. The day before his graduation his parents died in an accident and that prevented him from feeling accomplished or proud. He attached one more anchor of sorrow around his waist and decided to carry on with his life anyways. He was so full of sorrow that he had no space for any other feeling, including solitude. After a government-mandated week of bereavement, he started working as a new graduate employee in the exact role and place where his high school vocational report said seven and half years ago. At work he was meticulous and hardworking, he avoided coffee breaks and his lunch breaks were always too brief, just long enough for the mechanical part of eating could take place. Although his colleagues were aware that his work was reliable, they seldom engaged in camaraderie with him. It is needless to say that his colleagues did not appreciate him as a person. He was a social outcast, yet no quite a social misfit. He was quiet and reserved. He seldom held a strong opinion or cared enough about someone else to talk about anything other than work or administrative errands. And so Richard Thompson was sleeping soundly like any other night, except that his body had changed from the inside and was changing his persona, without him being aware.
He woke up the next morning at the usual time. He got ready to go to work, ironed his shirt, and took a warm shower like every morning. He ate a hearty breakfast and picked up his computer bag ready to catch the usual 7:35 train. Not for one second did he thought about last night’s incident. He was a tad late, so he rushed to the train platform. And there it was again. Well it was there all along, except that he had not realized until now. His chest was thumping fiercely and quite fast with the same syncopation as last night. At that instant he stopped unexpectedly. People behind him could not stop in time and pushed him aside making him to almost lose his balance. Once he was bucked away from the stream of people walking towards the train, he began looking at the timetables on the station walls for the next train to the hospital.
Thirty minutes later he was standing in front of a reception desk in a nearly empty emergency reception at the hospital.
Good morning. Who are you visiting? Asked the receptionist.
I want to be admitted. So, I want to visit a Doctor if it is not too much trouble. Said Richard Thompson with a subtle sarcastic undertone.
The receptionist startled. This has never happened in the twenty-five years she has worked at the hospital, so she did not know what to do and just stared at Mr. Thompson. Never before a healthy looking man has come to the emergency reception and without so much of a grain of stress in his voice asked to be admitted.
Feel my chest. Richard Thompson said while he leaned forward and pulled the receptionist's hand towards his body. She pulled her eyes wide open gazing at Mr. Thompson. He peered back. After an instant of disbelief she pulled her hand away slowly. Her hand was shaking while pressing the emergency button on the screen in front of her.
In less than thirty seconds a two-meter tall male nurse in light blue scrubs appeared with a wheelchair. Mr. Thompson took the cue, nodded his balding head towards the nurse and proceeded to sit down in the wheelchair.
It was luck perhaps that an expert in the circulatory system, Doctor Robbins, happened to work at that same hospital where Richard Thompson called. Doctor Charles M. Robbins was a curious man. He usually drove his colleagues crazy with constant questioning and bizarre ideas trying to explain, as he called "the ultimate and fundamental source of illness". His colleges called him an eccentric, a mad man with an M.D. diploma, and many other euphemisms. Doctor Robbins knew all about it and personally thought they were not very creative, yet they were the most inventive things the other doctors have ever said. When Doctor Robbins received the message of a man in the emergency reception with a thumping coming from inside his chest, he immediately cleared his agenda and literally jumped out of his chair in his way to meet this patient.
Doctor Robbins ran every test available to him for Mr. Thompson and had reached a diagnosis after a whole day of tests, analysis, enquiries with his colleagues and wide speculation. Richard Thompson was very impressed not only by Doctor Robbins’ thorough and methodical examination but also by his kindness and warmth. Before that day his experiences with doctors were akin to attending to a housing board annual meeting with an empty agenda, in other words impersonal, sterile and useless. Doctor Robbins dismissed Richard Thompson and asked him to spend the night at the hospital. Just in case, he said.
Doctor Robbins summoned Mr. Thompson to his office early next morning. As for Richard Thompson, he had spent his first night at a hospital since he was born. Resting in his hospital bed, he had trouble conciliating sleep because a gnawing suspicion that Dr. Robbins' performance was somehow planned and rehearsed in advance despite of how improbable it actually sounded.
The next morning Richard Thompson was waiting impatiently for Doctor Robbins in the sitting room just a hallway away from emergency reception. That morning in particular he had been experiencing heavier beating inside his bosom. This trepidation was making him sweat. Finally his name was called and he was directed to Doctor Robbins office.
Doctor Robbins apologized for keeping him waiting all night for his diagnosis. I have a colleague in Manila who had a similar case and I was waiting for his opinion over night, Dr. Robbins continued. Richard Thompson sat down quite heavily on the worn down leather chair in Doctor's Robbins' private office. Don't sit down, Doctor Robbins ordered. Lay down on the bench instead, he said. Doctor Robbins did one last examination of Richard Thompson's chest. Very active this morning, he muttered and Richard Thompson nodded. Now, you can button up your shirt and sit down, ordered Doctor Robbins and then began his explanation: “You have a quadruple failure of your systolic arrays, which regulate the body’s blood flow and pressure. Such failure is usually fatal, but in your case...” Doctor Robbins added a dramatic pause and then continued. “In your case your body has grown a biological pump that has been keeping your blood flowing. In a normal case an alarm will be triggered if any of your four redundant arrays were to malfunction. In your case the health center received four warning alarms. Under normal circumstances just two of them would have triggered a major alarm and an ambulance would have been sent immediately to pick you up.”
Then what happened? Richard Thompson asked. What happened, Doctor Robbins continued while raising his voice at every other word, is that almost immediately the pressure monitors cleared the alarms.
Mr. Thompson was baffled. Doctor Robbins stood up and began walking up and down his office while continuing to explain in a monotone. “This is where the strangeness begins. Your body started growing tissue, muscle, and blood vessels. A whole new organ!” He finished his sentence almost shouting, and continued: “This is unlike an ordinary tumor growth. This outgrowth actually began to function in harmony with your body.” Richard Thompson thought he had cancer, his stomach sank and he asked in a muted voice. Do I have cancer? No, absolutely not! Doctor Robbins exclaimed and then clarified: “This outgrowth has stopped growing. We could not explain why your biological monitors did not react; until I stumbled with a very old piece of literature, more than a thousand years old.” He sat down and a holographic image began to display illustrations from and ancient human anatomy book. “Before the advent of hereditary nanobionics and before the human genome was engineered, most animals had an organ that pumped blood throughout the whole life of the organism.” He continued to explain at the time that images of animal anatomy from ancient texts were displayed in thin air. “This organ was called a heart. This is what has grown inside your thorax.” Richard Thompson placed his right hand over his left breast and felt his heart beating calmly and asked: “But why did it grow?”
Doctor Robbins placed his hand on his forehead and attempted to answer Mr. Thompson question: “Well, we do not know with certainty. I suspect that there is a problem with the genetic engineering of our bodies. Prior to the human genome re-engineering project at the end of the XXI century, it was the absolute norm that all domesticated animals and humans had this hearth pumping blood through our bodies. The problem was that if it failed, then it was over! It meant almost certain death, and deadly single failure point weakness. After many decades of experimentation and debate over the ethical and biological consequences, the fragile organ was replaced by our modern day systolic arrays. And this was the last of our many biological engineering enhancements for the human genome. Almost everyone got it. Eventually the groups of people that did not have it because of religion or superstition died out. We suspect that if one your ancestors mated with one of these last people and somehow the gene did not manifest until your pressure regulators begin to fail. Quite remarkable.”
Are you going to take it out? Richard Thompson asked apprehensive.
I don't think it is a good idea. Doctor Robbins said.
So Richard Thompson left the hospital feeling heaviness on his chest. He had too many questions in his head. And the question began to bother him more than the constant beating inside his body. What would happen if this organ failed? Would his children get this malice as well? Was it possible for him to find a partner with this thing in his genome? Would he be allowed to marry? Will he be euthanized and then dissected for research? How did Dr. Robbins arrive to such extraordinary conclusion so fast and so well documented?
Doctor Robbins had prescribed him four weeks complete rest and bi-weekly checkups. Richard Thompson gladly took the work leave but begrudgingly accepted the checkups. During the long empty hours he had a lot of time to think. He meditated much more than usual. And he began to question and ponder pretty much everything. He felt lonely. He felt loneliness for the first time in his life. It felt like an old pair of shoes finally expiring unexpectedly in a last stride a mile away from the destination.
Doctor Robbins began to think and wonder about Mr. Thompson's condition. He poured his brilliant analytical brain and wrote a genial research article. It was eloquent, full with exquisite detail and above all, it was a breakthrough paper. The moment it was published it became an instant success. One week after the article was published, his agenda was full with interviews, symposiums and guest talks.
What everybody wanted was to meet the wonder of nature, the patient, not to listen for two hour straight to the last scientific discovery in the area of genetics since a thousand years ago. Doctor Robbins opposed to showcase the patient citing privacy and confidentiality concerns. All what he wanted was attention for his not so humble self. The public eye began to look elsewhere for novelties and he began to consider asking Mr. Thompson to appear in public. And so the time for Richard Thompson’s last checkup came to be.
Good news Mr. Thompson, Doctor Robbins said. You are in absolute perfect health and you can return to your normal life.
Richard Thompson did not think it was necessarily good news. He did not like his normal life. Since his visit to the emergency room, his mind and soul was burdened with thoughts, questions, dilemmas and sadness. He nodded yet his head was somewhere else.
Cheer up! Doctor Robbins exclaimed while clapping his hands and faking a smile. I have a question to ask you. More like a favor. Doctor Robbins paused, licked his lips, rolled his eyes and with apprehension asked Mr. Thompson if he would like to appear in public, to a worldwide audience to talk about his condition. Richard Thompson heard these words and his wandering thoughts came back to the office and he could hardly contain his excitement. To his amazement he managed to accept Doctor Robbins proposition with a gentle smile and a firm handshake without overly showing his enthusiasm.
The live worldwide broadcast was on a Wednesday night. Both Doctor Robbins and Richard Thompson were visibly nervous. The transmission began. The host, know for his wit and charisma, was one of the most popular interviewers in the world.
The interview started with five minutes of well-rehearsed scientific explanation by Doctor Robbins of how Mr. Thompson's circulatory condition came to be. How the biological pump in his body was a relic from the time where every human and most living animals had one. Before re-engineering of the human and animal genomes known today as hereditary nanobionics. How the genetic code was hidden for generations and became active when his systolic arrays began to fail, and how nature in harmony with human engineering evolved a failsafe to take care of human carelessness and lack of understanding of the ultimate source of illness.
Then the host introduced Richard Thompson. He was very shy and could hardly look at the interviewer in the eyes. The host asked Mr. Thompson how he felt. He looked at Doctor Robbins as if asking approval to talk. Doctor Robbins nodded and smiled to him.
I feel fine. Richard Thompson struggled to say.
How does it feel like? The interviewer asked.
It is confusing. Richard Thompson said.
Can you elaborate? Prompted the interviewer.
Richard Thompson's initial shyness vanished and he was filled with courage and valor as if a task of the utmost importance was suddenly entrusted to him. He cleared his throat and said in an increasingly urgent tone. “I’m confused. I have been thinking since I grew this thing inside my chest. And I have been questioning, why? A lot. Why does humanity stopped caring? Since when did human progress become a thing of the past? Why have we exchanged passion, ideas, and curiosity for apathy, comfort, and numbness? Was it all in the name of leisure, selfishness and wealth? Why it took a thousand years for the humanity to make one brilliant discovery? True, we have eradicated war, misery and poverty; but at what cost? We have cut corners. We have given away our desire to be free, to change and revolutionize, our hunger for discovery, our passion for life. As I come to think of it, maybe the reason we all have become plastic insensitive clods is because we have lost something a thousand years ago. Precisely a thousand years ago! We have lost the pump inside our chests, but maybe it was more, much more than a pump. It was our soul, our hunger and our spirit of life. Before I got this pump, I could look at everyone with indifference, apathy, just like you look at me now. The only thing that mattered was appearance and wealth. Now, I see everyone different. My eyes were freed from a cloak of insensitivity and now I can see the people for who they really are. I feel it inside my being. I see people being self involved and careless. Most of the times it hurts, but sometimes it brings me warmth and happiness to see innocent acts of kindness, completely selfless acts. The worst part is when I look at myself. I was one of these lumps of dirt cruising through life without contributing to the world in a meaningful way. I was only eating, breathing, working and not caring about anyone else but me. I’m so ashamed of myself. I have seen myself for who I really am. My biggest realization since a pump grew by chance and filled up my chest is that I need to change. I need to change myself and change the world. I must. Otherwise we will go on for another thousand years without achieving anything significant. The humanity must change its current state of listlessness, of not caring and not being concerned with our position and condition in the world. With the exchange of our life-giving pump inside our bodies for an array technological wonders we have euthanized ourselves. We have confused life with being alive.”
The host continued the interview without being concerned about the meaning of what Richard Thompson just said. “And why do you want to change? Do you want to get your systolic array back in working condition? Are you afraid the pump is going to fail and you will die?”
Richard Thompson’s face became red. He looked with anger at both the interviewer and Doctor Robbins who was thinking of how bringing the conversation back to him looked at Mr. Thompson with admiration and incredulity the same time, put his hand on his chest and stopped thinking about himself. Richard Thompson stormed out of the studio so fast that the host only managed to say, “Well folks, I guess this interview is over. Thanks to Dr. Robbins for the opportunity to hear from the man himself how is like to have a biological pump in one’s body. I guess I will not be replacing anything inside me any time soon! Thank you and good night.” Doctor Robbins wanted to stand up saying that he felt exactly like Mr. Thompson and defending word for word what Mr. Thompson just said, but it was too late, the transmission had ended already.
Back in his home, Richard Thompson was sad and angry. Frustration and fury crept up down from his legs up to his throat. He could not walk and almost could not breathe. He felt actual physical pain in his chest. He clutched his hands in anger and ground his teeth with despair. An hour later he was still sobbing when he received a message. It was a letter from a woman.
“Dear Mr. Thompson,
My name is Manawale'a. Today as you talked I listened. While I listened I felt a bond. A feeling like nothing I ever had felt before. And I felt it in my heart. I’m one like you, with a flesh blood pump inside my chest. Like you I have an ache inside my bosom, but is not the flesh. I see people for who they really are. Just like you described. And I was joyous when I heard from your own voice how you saw the same things. I want to change the world too. But I was alone. Alone no more since there you are. I want you here.
Sincerely yours,
Manawale’a”
Richard Thompson was ecstatic; his whole being was trembling with joy. He could not wait to meet to this woman. He was not feeling lonely anymore.
