She felt divine, holy, untouchable. Armed with her scrubs and her white coat she felt as if she had the ability to prevent me. But, no one has the power to prevent my forthcoming and their imminent arrival into my hands. She struts into the OR, confident that this cardiac autotransplantation would be a simple routine, after all, her large ego was built off this procedure. But, she should have known better. She should have known that a primary cardiac sarcoma is cause for my arrival. When the door swung open, I slipped in behind her. She felt my glacial presence, smelled my pungent, distinctive odor, but she continued on like I did not exist. She failed to acknowledge me, my arrival. She would learn. As she began to open the patient's chest I hovered over the table, eyeing her the whole time. Her confidence disgusted me, hadn't she learned from those other times? I looked down and saw her smiling, that is when I struck. The patient's vitals began to tank and she began to panic. As I inched closer and closer to the patient's soul, systems began to shut down. She stood there dazed and confused yet angry at the sametime. She yelled orders, pushed meds, began cardiac massage. But all of these efforts were not powerful enough to stop my advancements. When will she learn that she cannot stop me? After what feels like an eternity, her confidence fades into defeat. I looked into her cold, pale blue eyes. If eyes are the gateway to the soul, then her's was bleeding out with tears surrounded by the soft shell of her ego. She was too proud to cry, but too devastated to conceal her feelings any longer. She sucked in her tears, and ultimately her soul as she began to open her mouth. She calls time of death, sniffed and quiet. With that, my job was completed. It always hurts to break the young ones, but my dominance has to be asserted. As I began my journey to the next person, the next prideful surgeon with a god complex, I turned my head back to see her one more time. She was still crying a mournful melody. But I knew it wasn't she crying for him, she was crying for her. I decided not to leave, just to hover over the OR. I stared at her, at her damaged ego. Her god complex had been crucified. It was gone, along with her patient. They were both held in my hands. Her crying slowed, her hyperventilating ceased. She looked over to me in the corner. She finally accepted me. She learned her place. She is human, not a god. I looked into her glazed, tear filled eyes. The place where the defiant ego once stood began to be filled by that of a real, humble, authentic human being. She looked up to me, her face moistened with the weeping of her soul. She mouthed the words thank you. She finally learned the truth of life. No human, no matter how powerful, how egotistical can prevent my inevitable arrival.