“Haven’t heard about it yet,” said Reynolds.
“She died in the OR around noon,” said Philips. “Although they took the time to sew her up.”
“Not uncommon,” said Reynolds. “Sometimes they rush them down to the recovery room to pronounce them dead just so it doesn’t mess up their operative statistics.”
“Will you be doing a post?” asked Philips.
“Can’t say,” said Reynolds. “It’s up to the examiner.”
“If you did a post,” continued Philips, “when would it be?”
“We’re really busy right now. Probably early this evening.”
“I’m very interested in this case,” said Philips. “Look, I’ll hang around the hospital until the autopsy is done. Could you leave word that I’m to be paged when they do the brain?”
“Sure,” said Reynolds. “We’ll order in and have a real party. And if there is no autopsy, I’ll let you know.”
Cramming everything into his locker, Philips ran out of the lounge. Ever since he’d been an undergraduate, he suffered from unreasonable anxiety whenever he was behind in his work. As he ran back through the busy hospital, he felt that same old unwelcome feeling. He knew he was overdue in the angiography room and that the residents would be waiting; he knew he had to call Ferguson as much as he’d like to ignore the son-of-a-bitch; he knew he’d have to talk to Robbins about the techs who wanted to take off the whole freakin summer; and he knew Helen had a dozen other emergencies waiting for him at the office.
As he ran past the CAT scanner, Philips decided to make a quick detour. After all, what was two more minutes when he was already so late. Entering the computer room, Philips welcomed the breath of cool air conditioning required to keep the computers functioning. Denise and the four medical students were grouped around the TV-like screen, totally absorbed. Standing behind them was Dr. George Newman. Philips came up to the group, unnoticed, and looked at the screen. Sanger was describing a large left subdural hematoma, and pointing out to the students how the blood clot had pushed the brain over to the right. Newman interrupted and suggested the blood dot might be intracerebral. He said he thought the blood was inside the brain and not on its surface.
“No! Dr. Sanger is right,” said Martin. Everyone turned, surprised to see Philips in the room. He bent over, and using his finger, described the classical radiological features of a subdural hematoma. There was no question that Denise was correct.
“Well, that settles it,” said Newman good-naturedly. “I’d better take this fellow to surgery.”
“The sooner the better,” agreed Philips. He also suggested where Newman should make the hole through the skull to facilitate removal of the clot. He was about to ask the Chief Resident some questions about Lisa Marino, but thought better of it and let the surgeon leave.
Before Martin rushed off himself he took Denise aside. “Listen. To make up for standing you up at lunch, how about a romantic dinner?”
Sanger shook her head and smiled. “You’re up to something. You know I’m on call here at the hospital tonight.”
“I know,” admitted Martin. “I was thinking of the hospital cafeteria.”
“Wonderful,” said Denise, sarcastically. “What about your racketball?”
“I’m canceling it,” said Philips.
“Then you’re really up to something.”
Martin laughed. It was true that he only canceled racketball for national emergencies. Philips told Denise to meet him in his office to go over the day’s X rays after she’d finished the CAT scan schedule. She could bring the medical students if they wanted to come. Back in the hall, they said quick goodbyes, then Philips left. He again broke into a run. He wanted to get up a good head of steam so that when he passed Helen he’d be an unstoppable blur.
7
Waiting in a long line to check in, Lynn Anne Lucas wondered if it had been a good idea to come to the emergency room. Earlier she had called student health, hoping to be seen on campus, but the doctor had left at three, and the only place she could get immediate care was the emergency room at the hospital. Lynn Anne had debated with herself about waiting until the following day. But all she had to do was pick up a book and try to read to convince herself to go at once. She was scared.