Ana was 58, had been a primary school teacher for more than three decades and, since the doctors said they were compatible, she didn't hesitate.
Victor had indeed hesitated, but not because of her. "Rita, understand me," he continued on the phone, convinced that Ana was asleep.
The house in Lomas Verdes is in Ana's name, but I'll sort that out. My notary will handle the donation and that's it.
Three levels, garden, garage for two cars. It's the least you deserve after putting up with me these past two years.
Ana looked down at her left hand. Because of the weight loss, her wedding ring was now too loose.
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She slid it effortlessly and placed it on the medicine table. Victor laughed on the other side of the screen and immediately let out a groan of pain.
"Guilty? Of what? She gave me her kidney because that's what she lives for, to take care of me. She doesn't know how to do anything else."
Ana didn't cry. At 10:00, the nurse Valeria arrived to take her blood pressure. Ana asked for her clothes, a pen, and a piece of paper.
Then he called the surgeon, Dr. Salcedo. "I want to sign my voluntary discharge." The doctor thought he was speaking out of pain.
For twenty minutes he explained that only three days had passed since the nephrectomy and that they still needed to monitor creatinine, blood pressure, the wound, and any signs of fever.
