by Judith Lucci
Chapter 8
Sandy Pilschner, RN Nurse Manager of the CCMC Emergency Department was working on a staffing plan in her office. Her boss, Diane Bradley, was meeting with her to determine if the emergency department could send several nurses to Surgery to help out over the next few days.
Sandy said gratefully, "Thank goodness it isn't the weekend! With the shootings in this town, we're always running. We'd be up the creek if it were Friday. We had six shootings last Saturday night."
Before Diane could reply, both nurses heard several strange crackling sounds coming from the patient care area of the emergency department. They also heard loud voices.
"Sounds like an equipment malfunction. I'll go check it." Diane immediately left, and with a sense of foreboding, Sandy quickly followed.
As Sandy and Diane entered the open area of the emergency department, two reception clerks were screaming. They could hear gunfire in the patient reception area. Before anyone could act, a masked gunman, carrying a machine gun, entered the open area of the emergency department and began shooting. An ER physician immediately lunged towards him, but the gunman aimed his weapon and coldly shot the doctor. Blood spurted everywhere. The physician, Dr. Ron Davis, fell to the floor, with half of his head missing.
The gunman swung around, still firing. Bullets dismantled the patient care area and oxygen and carbon dioxide tanks released gas that caused a cloud of gas vapor in the area.
"Down on the floor, all of you," the gunman screamed. Before the staff could hit the floor, a second gunman appeared. He began pulling open patient privacy curtains and shooting up the patient care areas. He laughed at the terrified patients. Glass cylinders and IV bottles exploded with the gunshots. A burning smell permeated the ED area from two computer workstations that had been destroyed by gunfire. A large shard of glass hit the second gunman in the forehead, and caused a burst of blood from a superficial head wound.
The shooter went wild, screaming, "I've been hit, I've been hit. I'm bleeding. Where's the son-of-a-bitch who shot me!" The gunman, blood pouring from his head wound, turned his gun on the staff members, crouching and crying on the floor. Another burst of weapon fire hit an emergency department staff nurse from behind as she lay crouched behind a supply cart. She slumped forward.
Diane heard the telltale beep of a cardiac monitor in bed four, that symbolized the beginning of a heart attack. She stood helpless for what seemed like hours as the monitor screen displayed a dangerously rapid heart rate. Finally, the line of the monitor went flat, signifying a cardiac arrest. Diane, without thinking, intuitively moved toward the patient and cut on the cardiac defibrillator.
The first gunman screamed at Sandy. "Get me the drugs! Get me the drugs, bitch! Now! Now, dammit! Move!"
Sandy got up and began moving towards the narcotics cabinet but realized that she had no key to the locked bin. She immediately began throwing vials of saline, sterile water, needles, and plastic bags of intravenous fluids at the gunman.
The gunman looked at the vials and screamed at Sandy, "Don't give me this shit. Open that goddamn cart and cabinet and give me the drugs, now. A nurse, crouched behind a bed, slid Sandy her set of narcotic keys. As Sandy picked them up, the gunman moved closer to her. Sandy could literally smell sweat, body odor, and gunpowder as he leaned over her shoulder and looked at the locked narcotics bin. He was within a foot of Diane. The second gunman had momentarily stopped shooting and, temporarily unable to see, was frantically wiping blood out of his eyes.
As Sandy struggled to unlock the narcotics bin, Diane turned the cardiac defibrillator up to 360 joules and moved closer to the gunman. The shooter, intent on getting the drugs, didn't notice her. Within a second, Diane touched him with the paddles sending the electricity surging through his body. The gunman turned toward Diane, and dropped the automatic weapon on the floor as the electricity surged through his body. He tried to reach out to grab her, but his arms flailed, and he fell. Diane shocked him again with the paddles, and the man immediately had a grand mal seizure and fell to the floor. His body writhed as muscles contracted, and his limbs and torso twisted into absurd positions. Foam covered his face. Finally he lay still, except for an occasional involuntary jerking movement.
The second gunman, momentarily able to see, realized his partner was down, ran to him, and bent over him for a moment. Then he made a piercing animal-like noise, and turned his weapon on Diane, emptying several rounds into her body. Diane fell forward onto the dead gunman's body.
The second gunman ran from the emergency department, and collided with a third man with a ponytail. "Out, out, let's go. Get the fuck out of here. Johnnie's dead.” The gunman and the man with the ponytail ran out of the side emergency department door. The gunman shed his mask, ran towards St. Charles Street, and disappeared into hundreds of costumed revelers.
***
At three-thirty, Alex was completing her review of the hospital emergency staffing plan and preparing to go to administration to finalize the plans for the five o'clock press conference when Bridgett screamed and burst into her office.
"Alex, Alex, security just called. There's been a shooting in the emergency department. Come quick."
Alex and Bridgett ran to the stairs and took the three flights to the ground floor. By the time they reached the emergency department, they could hear telepage announcing a code red and a code blue in the ED. Alex’s heart stood still, and she could barely breathe. Fear paralyzed her. Hospital security were clearing out patients, families, and bystanders. A bullet had pierced the overhead speaker, and it buzzed loudly as it called all available physicians to the emergency department. Shortly, it announced a code orange with the same irritating buzz. Alex's stomach reeled at Code Orange, the disaster code. She was struck by the memory of the only other code orange she'd taken part in. It had occurred shortly after her graduation from nursing school when she was a staff nurse at the Washington Hospital Center. She'd been part of the rescue team that had pulled dozens of bodies out of the Potomac River after an airplane had crashed shortly after takeoff from Reagan National. Oh, please God, don't let this be as bad as that, she prayed.
Bridgett and Alex ran past security into the patient care area of the emergency department. Alex gripped the doorframe to keep from fainting and Bridgett doubled over, vomiting. Blood was everywhere. The floor was sticky from spilled intravenous fluids. A metallic smell of blood, gunpowder, smoke, and sweat permeated the area. The noise, while quiet, was chilling as patients and staff cried softly to themselves. Several staff members remained in shock and crouched in corners of the patient care area. All seemed paralyzed in place and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Dr. Davis's body was prostrate on the floor, his face revealing the horror of his death. A makeshift medical team was bending over the body of a nurse. Alex couldn't tell who it was, so she moved to the side to see.
"Oh no! Oh no!" Alex cried when she recognized Diane. Her knees buckled. She looked around for Bridgett, then saw her being lead off by a paramedic. Alex vaguely noticed a fine spray of black powder all over the Emergency Department's brightly polished floor, sticking quickly to the spilled glucose fluids.
"Is she alive? Is Diane alive?" No one was paying any attention to Alex. The medical team was busy intubating Diane and several nurses were starting IV fluids. She heard a physician she didn't recognize call for 10 units of O negative packed cells. Other members were staunching the flow of blood from Diane's abdomen.
"Get her up to the OR STAT! Maybe we'll be able to save her if the internal damage isn't too bad," the same physician was saying to the team. "Take her out through the back. This place is going to be crawling with cops and press any minute. Dr. Bonnet's waiting in the OR. If she's got any chance at all, it's with Bonnet."
Strong hands lifted Diane onto a stretcher and rushed her from the emergency department. Then Alex noticed the body of the dead gunman and the slumped body of another emergency department nurse she didn't know.
Within moments, New
Orleans Police Swat teams covered the entire emergency department. The crime team retrieved the machine gun and began dusting it for fingerprints. Other police officers were cordoning off the entire area with yellow crime tape, taking photographs, videotaping the scene, and removing emergency department staff from the patient care area.
The noise level in the emergency department became louder, almost deafening and the smell of sweat, vomit, and gunpowder become intolerable. There was a low hum of agonized human sounds coupled with static voices of police radios. People were yelling at each other for help, and the trauma team were crashing intravenous bottles together and racing for equipment, in an attempt to treat other injured people.
Alex noticed Don who appeared to be in a trance. His face was vacant and his eyes were unseeing. She grabbed his arm. "Let's go to Sandy's office and pull ourselves together."
Like a child, Don willingly allowed Alex to lead him out of the emergency department area. Within seconds, Elizabeth and Dr. Ashley joined them.
Alex realized that even Dr. Ashley was too traumatized to speak.
Elizabeth found her voice and spoke first. "What the hell is happening?" Before anyone could answer, Sandy Pilschner appeared.
Alex hugged her and said, "Sandy, tell us what happened?"
Sandy's eyes looked wild, her pupils dilated. She braced herself, she was visibly shaking. "I'll try. I don’t know. It happened so fast. Diane and I were in here reviewing staffing. We heard a crackling sound, some pops, and then loud noises. We ran to the patient care area just as a man with a gun was entering the room. He made us lie down on the floor. I don't know, I think they were after drugs."
Dr. Ashley said gently, "What about Dr. Davis?"
Sandy continued her story, "Ron charged the gunman and tried to take the gun away, but the gunman shot him. Then another man with a gun came in. He started shooting up the place. A piece of glass cut his face, and he was so mad he started shooting at us on the floor, and I think he hit Sheila. Then he asked me for drugs and he moved close to watch me open the narcotics cabinet. Then Diane moved over and shocked him with the defibrillator. He came at her, but missed and she shocked him again. I think he's dead. Then his friend shot her. Is Diane okay? I'm so worried about her. There was a lot of blood." Sandy started crying uncontrollably, then stopped, her eyes again attempting to focus.
Elizabeth touched her shoulder and spoke to Sandy gently. "Diane's in surgery. Dr. Bonnet is operating on her. We hope she'll be okay. Bonnet's the best, you know." Elizabeth was positive, but Sandy, in her shock and grief, just cried, her shoulders shaking with her tears.
After a few minutes, Elizabeth led her out of the office and took her over to the Psychiatric Pavilion where Dr. Monique Desmonde, the head psychiatrist in Crescent City Medical’s Psych Pavilion, was setting up a post-traumatic stress treatment area.
Alex and Don were still standing in Sandy’s office when Dr. Ashley suggested they again check the patient care area and go upstairs to the administrative offices.
It was easy to locate Captain Francoise in the inpatient area. He was barking orders at the uniformed cops. Alex urged Don and John from the area. I just can't deal with Francoise now, she thought. Her attempts were in vain. He quickly saw them and walked over.
He had a tight smile on his face as he started talking. "Well, we meet again. More excitement at your world-class hospital. What the hell. It looks like your Emergency department has an emergency.”
Was Francoise actually mocking them? Alex was too numb to tell.
She was speechless with indignation. "Captain Francoise, really. You've no right to act this way."
Dr. Ashley interrupted her. "Francoise, it’s tragic here. Your tone and manner of speaking to us is inappropriate. Please just help us and don’t harass.” John’s tone was quiet, but authoritative.
Francoise laughed at the chief of medicine. "Could've been worse you know." The Captain stared at Alex and added, “Well, miss lawyer lady, do I have permission to interview your staff or what?” Francoise laughed at his own macabre humor.
Alex, though appalled, ignored his behavior. "Do what you need to do, gently. These people are traumatized. Would you object if one of our staff psychiatrists was with them?" Alex was surprised at how strong her voice was.
The captain looked at her with grudging respect. "No problem, lady. Send the shrink to administration. That's where I thought I'd start the interviews. Plan to set up a command post there. Any objections?" Francoise looked at Don who shook his head.
After they left the emergency department, John said, "That man's impossible. I only hope he knows what he is doing.”
***
Alex, John, and Don returned to the nursing suite. Don told Bette's secretary to have Latetia come over from administration. Alex asked where Bette was.
"Oh," her secretary said, "she's gone for the day. She said she came in at five this morning. She left a little after two to get ready to go on her trip."
Alex was furious that Bette had left. "Call her at home and tell her to get here. And beep Elizabeth Tippet and tell her where we are." Alex's voice was stern, and she was so angry she was shaking.
The three sat in silence until Elizabeth appeared. "I've given a statement to the press. I canceled the press conference at five o'clock and issued a statement that there'd been a shooting in the emergency department. I neither confirmed nor denied any deaths. I told them we'd have another statement later this evening when we had more details."
Alex was glad Elizabeth was there. The two men had regressed into a zombie-like state. "Thanks, Liz. Good work. Did the press seem satisfied?" Alex asked.
Elizabeth looked strangely at Alex. "You know, it's just too weird. They knew. The press knew there was a death. They knew Dr. Davis's name. They even knew Diane was in surgery. How'd they get their information? They knew as much or more than I did at the time. How do you explain this?"
She looked searchingly at her three colleagues. Neither man responded as they both contemplated what had happened.
Alex said, "I don't know. I don’t understand, and it worries me. Did they know that a gunman had died?"
"No. I don't think so. I know CCMC has a hell of a grapevine. But I talked with them within forty minutes of the shootings. Everyone in the emergency department was in a state of shock. No one could've talked to them that quickly. Hospital security had already blocked off the area."
"Perhaps a patient left and told them?"
"Impossible or at least I don’t think so," Elizabeth interrupted emphatically. "No patients knew that anyone had died, or been shot, much less a doctor by the name of Ron Davis. It reminds me of the accuracy of the news accounts in the Times Picayune yesterday. The story was perfect. I couldn't have given a better account myself. Someone from this hospital gave out the information, or someone who knew it was going to happen reported it quickly." Elizabeth's voice was suspicious.
"Could be, I guess," Alex said, not picking up on her insinuation. "But anyone could've told. We have a great grapevine in this place. Elizabeth, did you know a nurse had been shot and killed during the shootings?"
"Other than Diane?"
"Yes," Alex replied. "Her name is Sheila. I don't know her. I think somebody said that she was new."
"So we have a dead doctor, a dead nurse, and another nurse in surgery?" Liz asked.
Alex nodded. "Yes, and a dead gunman and at least one dead patient. Do you know how the gunman died?"
"No, how?" Elizabeth was reeling from the knowledge of another death.
"Diane Bradley shocked him with the cardiac defibrillator.”
Elizabeth was speechless.
Alex continued, "She shocked him, she electrocuted him."
Elizabeth said simply, "Good. He deserved it."
"Yes, he did. I hope everyone sees it that way."
***
Outside, Mitch stood and shook in the phone booth near the hospital. He'd followed their instructions to the letter by calling the pre
ss and the police. He hated them, but most of all he hated himself.
Chapter 9
The day was never ending. It wasn’t easy working in a cursed hospital. Between the media blitzes, the reruns of the ED shootings on the news, and the pundits telling the world about the Voodoo curse at Crescent City Medical Center, no one was getting any work done. Alex only hoped that the patients were getting cared for.
By seven-thirty that evening, the hospital leaders had been joined by Bette Farve and several other physicians. Elizabeth had left shortly before to hold a brief press conference.
"Any word on Diane, John?" Alex was sure she had asked the same question every 20 minutes or so.
Dr. Ashley shook his head. "I just checked with the OR and Dr. Bonnet's doing a total bowel resection. Robert says her injuries are bad. The bullets from these automatic weapons explode when they enter the body and make a terrible mess. Most people don't survive this long. Diane has extensive liver damage and lots of bleeding. She's already received 12 units of blood and Bonnet predicts she'll need twice that by morning. Hospital's put out a call for O negative blood."
"Anyone talked with her family?" Alex asked.
Bette replied. "I talked with one of the nurses in surgery. Her husband's here and very upset, and her parents are driving in from Alabama."
Dr. Ashley nodded at Bette. "Good," he said. He turned to Alex and added, "Alex, will you go over with me to see her husband? I want to offer my personal concern. Don, you should go with us on behalf of administration. I suppose you've been, Bette?"
"Why, no I haven't. I've only been here a little while. I've been busy," she replied.
