Sean Berman was Dr. Goodman’s fourth and final case for February 23, 1976. Already that day he had smoothly anesthetized three patients. A two-hundred-and-sixty-seven-pound flatulent female with gallstones had been the only potential problem. Dr. Goodman had feared that the enormous bulk of fatty tissue would have absorbed such large quantities of the anesthetic agent that termination of the anesthesia would have been very difficult. But that had not proved to be the case. Despite the fact that the case had been prolonged the patient had awakened very quickly and extubation had been carried out almost immediately after the final skin suture had been tied.
The other two cases that morning had been very routine: a vein stripping and a hemorrhoid. The final case for Dr. Goodman, Berman, was to be a meniscectomy of the right knee and Dr. Goodman expected to be in his lab by 1:15 at the latest. Every Monday morning Dr. Goodman thanked his lucky stars that he had had enough foresight to have continued his research proclivities. He found clinical anesthesia a bore; it was too easy, too routine, and frightfully dull.
The only way he kept his sanity those Monday mornings, he’d tell his neighbor, was to vary his technique to provide food for his brain, to force him to think rather than just sit there and daydream. If there were no contraindications, he liked balanced anesthesia the best, meaning he did not have to give the patient some gargantuan dose of any one agent, but rather he balanced the needs by a number of different agents. Neurolept anesthesia was his favorite because in certain respects it was a crude precursor to the types of anesthetic agents he was looking for.
Mary Abruzzi returned with the endotracheal tube.
“Mary, you’re a doll,” said Dr. Goodman, checking off his preparations. “I think we’re ready. How about bringing the patient down?”
“My pleasure. I’m not going to get lunch until we finish this case.” Mary Abruzzi left for the second time.
Since Berman did not offer any contraindications, Goodman decided to use neurolept-anesthesia. He knew Spallek didn’t care. Most orthopedic surgeons didn’t care. “Just get them down enough so I can put on the Goddamn tourniquet, that’s all I care about” was the usual orthopedic response to the query about which anesthetic agent they might prefer.
Neurolept anesthesia was a balanced technique. The patient was given a potent neurolept, or tranquilizing agent, and a potent analgesic, or painkiller. Both agents provided easily arousable sleep as a side effect. Dr. Goodman liked droperidol and fentanyl best of the agents cleared for use. After they were given, the patient was put to sleep with Pentothal and maintained asleep on nitrous oxide. Curare was used to paralyze the skeletal muscles for entubation and surgical relaxation. During the case aliquots of the neurolept and analgesic agents were used as needed to maintain the proper depth of anesthesia. The patient had to be watched very closely through all this, and Dr. Goodman liked that. For him the time passed more quickly when he was busy.
The OR door was opened by one of the orderlies helping to guide Berman’s gurney into room No. 8. Mary Abruzzi was pushing.
“Here’s your baby, Dr. Goodman. He’s sound asleep,” said Mary Abruzzi.
They put down the arm rails.
“OK, Mr. Berman. Time to move over onto the table.” Mary Abruzzi gently shook Berman’s shoulder. He opened his eyelids about halfway. “You have to help us, Mr. Berman.”
With some difficulty they got Berman over onto the table. Smacking his lips, turning on his side, and drawing up the sheet around his neck, Berman gave the impression that he thought he was home in his own bed.
“OK, Rip Van Winkle, on your back.” Mary Abruzzi coaxed Berman onto his back and secured his right arm to his side. Berman slept, apparently unaware of the activity about him. The cuff of the pneumatic tourniquet was placed about his right thigh and tested. The heel of his right foot was placed in a sling and hung from a stainless steel rod at the foot of the operating table, lifting the entire right leg. Ted Colbert, the assisting resident, began the prep by scrubbing the right knee with pHisoHex.