Doctor Turner looked over at the nurse in the room and said, "Let's start an IV right now and put him on oxygen. Then let's get him up to surgery, prepped, blood typed and matched, and two units sent up. Oh, yes! Let's have some portable tissue scans done, also. I'll call Surgery and Anesthesiology and get them ready for us. Dave, I'll get another nurse in here to help you remove your clothes and get into a gown. Oh, and I'll call Edna on my way up to Surgery and let her know you're here and what's going on!" With that, Doc Turner sped from the room. Oh, great! Edna's gonna flip! thought Dave, thinking of his wife's reaction to him being in the hospital...and about to get operated on!
It seemed to Dave Johnson that he barely had time to blink before another nurse entered and began to remove his clothes. The nurse produced a plastic bag and helped Dave put his clothes inside the bag. She assured him they would be taken to his room.
After he put on the gown, he was instructed to lie down on the examination table. Once he did so, another nurse swabbed his arm and inserted a needle and quickly drew two vials of blood. She deftly removed the needle and put a bandage over the spot. A male nurse pulled an IV stand over next to the examination table. A bag of IV solution already hung from the top of the stand. He swabbed Johnson's other arm and inserted the IV needle with trained precision. The first nurse inserted the tips of a nasal cannula into Johnson's nostrils, adjusted the flow of oxygen, and slid the tubing behind his ears.
Two orderlies entered the room with a gurney. The orderlies and nurses worked together to transfer Johnson from the examination table to the gurney. Once he was on the gurney, they put its side rails up and transferred his IV bag to a holder mounted to the gurney.
"All set, Mr. Johnson?" one of the orderlies asked.
Dave smiled a wan smile and gave the man a thumbs-up. While one of the nurses held the door, the two orderlies maneuvered the gurney through the doorway and out into the hallway. Dave suddenly discovered he was counting the lights in the ceiling as they moved quickly down the hall to the elevator. Minutes later, they wheeled him into a surgical room and transferred him to the operating table.
One of the nurses stepped over to Johnson. "Hi, Mr. Johnson, I'm going to ask you a few questions before the doctor gets here. Okay?"
Dave answered in the affirmative and the nurse began. She asked him his full name, his date of birth, his blood type, and what the doctor was going to operate on. Dave answered each question calmly and correctly. While she did that, another nurse was attaching EKG leads to Dave's chest, an oxygenation sensor to one finger, and the blood pressure cuff lead to the monitors.
"Alright, Mr. Johnson!" one of the nurses said. "Doctor Turner should be here in a few minutes. He's given orders to give you some medication to help you relax. Here you go!" She injected the medication into an injection port in the IV line and within a couple of minutes Dave felt like he was floating. He barely noticed when a technician positioned a portable tissue imager over his thigh.
"Hold still for a moment, Mr. Johnson," the imager technician said.
"Okay, will do!" Dave replied cheerfully.
A couple of minutes later, the technician said, "All done, Mr. Johnson. You were great! Thanks!" Dave nodded and tried unsuccessfully to wave goodbye as the technician pulled the imager away from the operating table. Too many wires and tubes stuck in me! Johnson thought.
"Hiya, Doc!" Dave said drunkenly when Doctor Turner, now covered in surgical scrubs, stepped into his field of vision.
"Hello, Dave. I'd ask how you're feeling but it's pretty obvious. I spoke with Edna and she's having a neighbor drive her in. She'll be waiting for you in your room when we're finished. Let me take a look at these tissue images before we get started." Turner looked up at a screen suspended from the ceiling on the far side of Johnson. "Hmmm. Okay, I see where the bleeder is so we can get started. Nurse, let's get that pint of blood started. Dave, we're going to give you something that will knock you out while we work." Dave nodded and mumbled okay. The nurse prepped the bag of blood and deftly inserted the needle into Dave's arm then taped the needle and tubing down.
The medication was injected into an IV port and Dave Johnson quietly drifted off to sleep. "Okay, everybody," Doctor Turner said, "let's get to work!" While one nurse exposed Dave's bruised thigh, another strapped down his arms and legs to prevent movement. Once the thigh was exposed, a nurse washed the area with an antibacterial agent then used a safety razor to shave the operating field. The nurse cleaned the now bare area and applied more of the antibacterial agent.
After checking the area, Doctor Turner asked for a scalpel and the operation began. With consummate skill, the doctor cut into Dave Johnson's thigh, exposing layer upon layer of tissue, penetrating quickly yet with expert care. A nurse used a suction tube to clear the blood that was saturating the tissues and incision site. He asked another nurse to maneuver a magnifying examination light above the incision site and turn the light on. After examining the incision carefully, he cut a little deeper. Ah! There it is! thought Turner upon finding the bleeding vessel. It's a nasty laceration, but I think we can suture it! He asked for two vascular clamps and applied them, one on one side of the laceration, then the other on the opposing side. With blood flow temporarily halted, he asked for more suction to clear the area. Turner used another scalpel to excise the ragged edges of the lacerations leaving two clean ends to work with. He examined the blood vessel again then asked for a specific size needle and suture. Slowly, with precise movements, Doctor Clark Turner stitched the edges of the blood vessel together.
With the final stitch in place, he slowly released one vascular clamp and watched as blood filled the vessel he had just reconnected. The stitches held with no evidence of any bleeding. He released the second vascular clamp and watched as blood flowed through the vessel.
"Alright, folks! Let's let that sit a moment while I examine the tissues around the wound site. I'd like to get some tissue samples then we'll close up." Doctor Turner used the magnifying light to closely examine the blood soaked tissues near the skin. With another scalpel, he removed several small samples which he placed in petri dishes a nurse held out to him one at a time. He carefully identified each sample with a location description which the nurse dutifully marked on a label on the appropriate dish. Finally, he said, "Okay, let's get those to the lab and get Mr. Johnson closed up."
The remainder of the operation went smoothly and soon Doctor Turner and his operating staff had Johnson ready to be transferred to the recovery ward. Turner stepped into the dressing room, removed his soiled, operating scrubs, cleaned up a little, then donned a fresh set of scrubs. He paused for a moment at the nurses' station to add some notes to Johnson's chart then walked over to the recovery room to speak with the man's wife.
After calming Mrs. Johnson, Doctor Turner went to check on his patient. The sutures looked fine and the swelling around the area was noticeably reduced. Turner made some additional notes in Johnson's chart authorizing that he be taken to a private room immediately then headed to the lab to see if the tissue sample tests were finished.
Steve Peterson, the senior lab technician, met Doctor Turner at the lab's front desk. "Doc, what in the hell has your patient been exposed to? Some of the tissue samples you sent us show extensive radiation exposure and burns!" He handed the doctor a piece of paper. An illustration on the page showed an outline of a male human figure. There were several small green Xs on the outline that corresponded to the locations where he had taken tissue samples. Looking at the legend for the illustration, Turner saw that the larger the X, the greater the damage to the tissue.
"It almost looks like he had something really 'hot' in the left front pocket of his pants, Doc," Peterson said.
Doctor Turner paused for a moment, then reached over and grabbed the telephone. He dialed the nurses' station responsible for Dave Johnson's floor. "This is Doctor Turner. What happened to Mr. Johnson's clothes and personal belongings? They're in the safe in the closet of his room? Okay, don't let a
nyone get close to that room for right now. I'm on my way back up!"
Chapter 10
June 24th
Kingman, AZ
Turner turned to Peterson, "Call Brian in Safety! Tell him to meet me in Room 403 and to bring his radiation response gear...STAT!" With that Turner raced down the hall to the bank of elevators. He briefly considered using the stairs but, at his age, it would be best to wait on the elevator.
Minutes later, Brian Meinders and Royce Jamison of the hospital's safety division joined him outside the door to Dave Johnson's room. Turner helped the two men don haz mat suits then held the door open as they pushed a wheeled, plastic cart laden with his equipment into Johnson's room. Inside the room, Meinders opened the closet door then punched in the override code to the lock on the safe built into the closet. Jamison, a medic in the Army Reserve, quickly checked on the patient who was resting peacefully.
Meinders lifted a small Geiger counter from the cart and turned it on. When he pointed it at the clothing and other items in the safe, the unit began to click loudly and the needle on its gauge swung to the far right. Holy shit! Meinders thought. This stuff is hotter-n-hell! Thinking quickly, Meinders set the Geiger counter back on the cart and picked up a set of tongs. Jamison picked up a heavy, gray, lead impregnated bag and held it open.
Meinders used the tongs to grab each article of clothing and place it into the bag. Once the safe was empty, he closed its door, and signaled for Jamison to seal the bag. Jamison then lifted the bag onto the cart while Meinders stepped over to the door.
Pulling it open slightly, Meinders said, "Doc! Get one of the nurses to call down to Radiology and let them know I'm bringing in a hot load! They'll clear a route for me from their elevator to their lab. Then clear everyone out of the hall all the way to the elevators. Have someone get an elevator to this floor and set the doors to remain open. When everything's ready, rap on the door and get out of the way!" With that, he closed the door to wait for the signal.
The rap on the door came just a couple of minutes later! Meinders pulled the door open and Jamison pushed the cart out into the hall. The two men pushed the cart as quickly as they could down the hall to the elevator. Once inside, Meinders hit the override to close the doors and start the elevator down toward the basement. Meinders and Jamison were sweating profusely by the time the doors opened and they could push the cart the remaining distance to Radiology.
Parking the cart inside the lab, Meinders and Jamison transferred the bag into an isolation glove box used by the Radiology staff to safely handle radioactive materials. After sealing the lead-lined box, they stripped off their gear, stepped over to a double safety shower setup, and turned the water on. Someone tossed each man a bottle of liquid soap and Meinders and Jamison scrubbed down from top to bottom twice before rinsing off. One of the radiologists used a Geiger counter to check the two men carefully for any signs of contamination. The man smiled and signaled someone to toss Meinders and Jamison towels to dry off with.
Doc Turner stepped into the room a moment later as the two safety division men were donning scrubs and sneakers. With Turner were Jess Allen and Dean Berry, two more hospital safety personnel.
Alex Denholm, one of the radiologists, stepped over to Meinders and Jamison. "I've checked your dosimeters. You both received a limited, but safe, dose!"
"Thanks," Brian Meinders said. Jamison merely nodded his thanks. Then he looked at Allen and Berry, "Radiological protocols activated?" They nodded. Throughout the hospital, steps were being taken to identify who had been exposed to Dave Johnson since he entered the hospital and places where he had been were being examined and isolated for decontamination. The local police, sheriffs, and fire departments were being notified.
"I spoke to Mr. Johnson before I came down." Doctor Turner said as he stepped up next to Meinders. "He said he had some sort of gold watch in the left front pocket of his jeans,"
Brian Meinders merely nodded as he peered through the leaded glass into the isolation box. Inside the box, his gloved hands opened the bag containing Johnson's clothes and personal effects. Reaching into the bag with one gloved hand, he pulled out the clothing. As Johnson's pants became visible, Meinders shifted his grip to them, allowing the other items to fall back into the bag. He released the bag and used both hands to grip the pants' legs and upended the pants, shaking them. The first things to fall out of the pockets were some loose change, keys, a wallet, and finally, a heavy gold watch.
Meinders put the jeans back into the bag then scooped up the change, keys, and wallet. Those, too, went back into the bag which he then resealed. Picking up a pair of tongs from a tray inside the box, Meinders used the tongs to pick up the watch and laid it face up and flat in a sample tray inside the box. "Hey, someone turn on the video camera!" he called out.
Radiologist Alex Denholm stepped forward and activated the video camera within the isolation box then used its joystick controls to adjust the camera's focus. Meinders watched the video screen as he moved the sample tray containing the watch into the center of the camera's field of vision. Once the sample tray was in position, Meinders drew his hands and arms from the isolation box gloves and moved over to the video screen displaying the camera's output.
Denholm zoomed in with the camera to get a close up view of the front of the watch and its watch band. As he focused on the watch face, Meinders noticed something different about the numbers on the old fashion dial. "Huh?" Meinders said out loud. "Will you look at this?" The others in the room stepped closer and one by one they looked at the image.
"Those are Eastern Arabic numerals," said someone. The voice was unfamiliar to the others in the room, so they turned to identify the speaker. The man was tall, stocky, and tanned with dark hair starting to go gray. He was wearing a dark blue uniform and the brass on his color, gold badge, and name tag told everyone who he was, Joshua Kincaid, the Chief of the Kingman Police Department. "I remember seeing those everywhere when I served in Middle East while in the Army. What's up with the watch?"
"Howdy, Chief!" Brian Meinders said. He had met the chief of police during a hospital emergency exercise a few months earlier. "It's radioactive! Look!" Meinders put his arms back into the isolation box glove, picked up a Geiger counter sensor, and passed it over the watch. The meter displayed on the monitor shot upward as the sensor neared the watch then went down as it moved away. "One of Doctor Turner's patients had it on him when he came to the hospital."
"What the hell was he doing carrying around a radioactive watch?" Chief Kincaid asked.
Doc Turner answered, "David Johnson came in with a subdermal hematoma of the upper left thigh...from a broken blood vessel. While operating on him, I noticed some suspicious looking tissue damage around the area and sent samples to the lab. He had radiation burns in that region. While Brian was getting Johnson's clothes down here, I spoke with Johnson. He mentioned the watch. Said he found it the other day in the yard of the warehouse he owns. Was going to give it back to the man he thinks it belongs to next time the guy drops by the warehouse."
"Well, I'll want to talk with Mr. Johnson as soon as I can," said Kincaid. "Let's get a screen grab of the front, then flip this thing over and see if we can find anything on the back side." Alex Denholm tapped the keyboard that was linked to the computer that operated the camera.
"Got it," Denholm said, displaying the image on the screen for a moment. "Go ahead and turn it over, Brian." Meinders used the tongs again to pick up the watch and then lay it back into the tray, back side up. Denholm adjusted the camera controls again, scanning the backside of the watch and band. After a slow pass over the watch, he moved the camera into position over the back of the watch itself and zoomed in. Some exotic looking script was etched into the metal.
"Looks like Arabic," said Chief Kincaid.
"Can you read it?" asked Doctor Turner.
"No, but I know someone who will know someone who can. Get a screen capture of that, too; then let's see if there are any manufacturer's markings
." Chief Kincaid said. A moment later, they found what looked like more of the Eastern Arabic numerals. Kincaid asked for a screen grab of those as well. "Is there some way I can email these to my friend?"
Alex Denholm nodded before answering. "The images are stored on the computer here as JPEGs. This computer is networked to the hospital's main computer system which is connected to the Internet so we can email images to our doctors' offices for their analysis. Here, let me pull up the program and attached the image files, then you can take over." Denholm's fingers glided across the keyboard and a flurry of new windows opened on the display. Finally, he stepped away from the keyboard. "Here you go, Chief!"
Kincaid had his cellphone out and checked its display before stepping over to the keyboard. He carefully entered an email address then added a subject line before writing a brief message to the recipient. He included his cellphone number and email address in the message and signed off with his name. Kincaid quickly reviewed what he'd written and, satisfied, hit Send. "If you could print me some hardcopies of the photos, I'd appreciate it."
"I'll have them for you in just a minute, Chief!" Denholm replied returning to the keyboard.
Chief Kincaid turned to Doctor Turner and Brian Meinders. "We should isolate Mr. Johnson ASAP and probably put a guard on him around the clock. Something mighty suspicious is going on here."
Turner nodded. "We've already moved him to another room in the Isolation Ward. Brian's team is decontaminating Johnson's former room and the surgical theater."
"Did Johnson come in by ambulance?" Kincaid asked.
"No, he drove himself in," answered Turner. "Oh, hell! His truck should be out in the parking lot. A big blue Ford with signs on the doors...Johnson & Son Distributors or something like that."
Kincaid stepped over to a desk and picked up a phone. One of the technicians punched in the number for an outside line, earning a nod of thanks from the police chief. Kincaid punched in a telephone number then waited. When someone answered on the other end, Kincaid identified himself then began issuing orders. After a couple of minutes he returned to where Doctor Turner, Brian Meinders, and Alex Denholm were standing.
The Arizona State Guard Trilogy Page 26
