The silence after the stent

I just finished a case where the patient’s artery opened like a sigh—no resistance, no drama. But then the room went quiet. Not the kind of quiet that means everything’s fine, but the kind that feels like listening to something else: the hum beneath the monitors, the way the light from the ceiling flickers just slightly when the heart rate drops. I stood there for a second too long, watching the IV drip fall. It wasn’t medical. It was almost religious. Or maybe just human. The body repairs itself, but what happens to the space between breaths? I don’t know. But I keep noticing it.