The Best Medicine

by Anne Marie Rodgers

  Tucking her concern for him toward the back of her mind, Anabelle took off her glasses, slipped them into her pocket, then grabbed her clipboard and headed to the unit. She checked her watch and inhaled a deep breath. Just in time for report. There, she, the day nurses and the aides would hear details about each patient and formulate care plans for the rest of their shifts.

  In his rush to get to work, James Bell forgot to take a jacket, and by the time he arrived at the hospital, the rain was coming down in sheets. In the race from his car to the staff entrance, the rain soaked through everything. A large puddle remained in the elevator as he stepped out onto the third floor where he then slogged to his locker.

  Like many of the nurses who wore scrubs, James usually changed at the hospital. He preferred wearing the hospital-provided blue or green, which saved Fern and him from having to do even more laundry than they already had. He removed his shoes and set them in the bottom of his locker while pulling out his white clogs. He hung his damp jeans on a hook to dry and pulled a fresh pair of scrubs off the linen cart.

  James barely made it in time for report. Susan Mills, head nurse for the unit, smiled up at him. “Rough morning?”

  He grinned and wiped a hand over his wet hair. “I’m good. Dr. Hamilton called me last night to assist with his open-heart this morning.”

  James entered the General Surgery Suite which was situated next to Day Surgery on the third floor, and went straight to the sinks. He performed the presurgical washing ritual they always did. James stood next to Dr. Hamilton and sensed that something was off. Moisture beaded on the older man's forehead and he looked uncomfortable. “Are you feeling all right, sir?”

  “I’m fine.” He took in a sharp breath. “A little heartburn is all. I should know better than to eat sausage for breakfast.”

  The cardiac surgeon, Harriet Hildebrand—Dr. Hildie to her patients and much of the staff—arrived and began talking with Dr. Hamilton about their patient, Dillon Blake. James completed his scrub, shoved his arms into the gown the operating room nurse held out to him and turned so she could tie it behind his back. He donned gloves and headed into the sterile area.

  One nurse was assigned to stand watch to keep the area sterile. Another laid out instruments on the trays, and the anesthesiologist sat at the patient's head watching the monitor. The patient murmured something unintelligible as a nurse told him he’d be asleep in less than a minute, which he was. The tray holding the heart-lung machine, which would support the patient's circulation during the surgery, sat at the ready. Even though the surgery was commonly done, James couldn't help feeling anxious.

  The doctors approached the patient and the procedure began. Within minutes the man's chest had been opened and clamped. James had seen the inside of the chest cavity many times, but seeing someone's heart beat was nothing short of a miracle. He prayed the surgery would go well and that the heart valve would be repaired.

  James watched intently, handing off instruments as Dr. Hamilton asked for them, anticipating his every move. The heart-lung machine took over the work of the patient's heart so that repairs could be made. Everything was running very smoothly.

  Then, very suddenly, Dr. Hamilton moaned and began to sway. The instrument he was holding clattered to the floor.

  “Oh no!” someone shouted.

  “He's going down!” James’ adrenaline kicked into high gear. He grabbed Dr. Hamilton under the arms and pulled him back away from the patient and toward the door.

  In the ensuing chaos, Dr. Hildebrand stepped in and seamlessly took her colleague's place. She quickly reordered the room and the OR staff continued on as if nothing had happened.

  But something had happened. James paid little attention to the surgical team now. He had taken one look at the doctor's ashen face and sweating brow, put his ear to the doctor's chest and began shouting orders.

  “Call a code blue.”

  James immediately started chest compressions as a respiratory therapist tipped Dr. Hamilton's head back to establish an airway and attach valve mask resuscitator.

  “Code blue surgery. Code blue surgery.”

  The operator's loud steady voice repeated the order again and again over the hospital's PA system. Within seconds the emergency response team appeared. While James continued the compressions, four members of the team lifted Dr. Hamilton onto a stretcher. James rose with the stretcher and ran with them as they moved him from the operating arena to the Day Surgery Unit.

  James kept up the compressions, then stepped back when the paddles appeared and one of the nurses yelled, “Clear!”

  Someone had already hooked the doctor up to a portable heart monitor. The first jolt with the paddles produced no change in his weak heart rate. A second zap along with the epinephrine got the heart beating on its own. Dr. Hamilton's heart transitioned into a normal sinus rhythm.

  James felt like he’d just run a marathon. He sat for a moment while the team took Dr. Hamilton into one of the Day Surgery cubicles and hooked him up to the necessary monitors.

  Since Dr. Hildebrand was still in surgery, James took it upon himself to call Dr. Hamilton's wife at their home. After several rings, he heard the voice mail greeting and began to speak. “Mrs. Hamilton, this is James Bell at the hospital. It's your husband, ma’am. We need you to come to the hospital as soon as possible.”

  A Note from the Editors

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  Inside each easy-to-carry Comfort Kit is a prayer card, a journal, a pack of crayons, an “I'm Special” wristband to wear alongside the hospital-issued one, and a plush golden star pillow to cuddle. It's a welcome gift and has a powerful effect in helping to soothe a child's fears.

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