Susan walked over to a stainless steel cabinet against the wall. The conductive booties—designed to prevent static electricity, so hazardous where inflammable gas was flowing—were kept in a large cardboard box on the lower shelf. Susan put them on the way Carpin had shown her on the first visit to the OR two days before, tucking the black tapes inside her shoes. When she opened the swinging door the second time, the nurse at the desk didn’t even look up. The Memorial was large enough so that new faces were to be expected.
The operating rooms at the Memorial were grouped in a large U-shape with supply, holding area, and anesthesia offices in the center. The entrance to the OR area was at the bottom of the U and the recovery room was on the left arm of the U, closest to the elevators. Susan found that room No. 8 was on the right arm of the U, on the outside.
No. 20, where the operation continued, was in the opposite direction, and Susan found herself quite alone approaching room No. 8. Pausing at the door, she looked through the glass. It looked exactly like room No. 18, where Niles had passed out. The walls were tile, the floor a speckled vinyl. Although the lights were out, Susan could see the large kettledrum operating lights above, and the operating table immediately below. She opened the door and turned on the lights.
Without any specific objective in mind, Susan roamed around the room, noticing the larger objects. Then in a more systematic fashion she began to examine details. She found the gas line terminals, noticing that oxygen had a green male connector. The nitrous connector was blue and structurally different so that no mistake could be made. A third male connector was not labeled or colored. Susan assumed it was the compressed air line. A larger female connector was labeled “suction”; above it was a gauge with a large adjusting dial.
In the back of the room were a number of stainless steel cabinets filled with various supplies. There was a desk of sorts for the circulating nurse. The right wall had an X-ray screen. The rear wall, next to the door, had a large institutional clock. The large red second hand swept around smoothly. Another door led into an adjoining supply room, shared with OR No. 10, which contained the sterilizers and other paraphernalia.
Susan spent almost an hour going over room No. 8, as well as No. 10 for comparison. She found nothing abnormal or even mildly curious about room No. 8. It was an OR room like so many thousands. No. 10 appeared no different.
Without challenge, Susan retraced her steps to the nurses’ locker room and changed back into her nurse’s uniform. She threw her scrubdress into a hamper and started for the door. But she paused then, looking up at the ceiling. It was a drop ceiling, made with large blocks of acoustical tile.
The wastebasket provided an intermediate step. Susan moved from the wastebasket to the sink to the top of the lockers. The ceiling was about three feet above the top of the lockers. Crouching on all fours, she tried the first ceiling block. It would not lift up because of some piping immediately above it. She tried another. Same problem. The third tile, however, lifted easily, and Susan slid it to one side. She then stood up on top of the locker, projecting half of herself into the ceiling space. Contrary to her estimate, the ceiling space was generous in its size. There was almost five feet of vertical space from the dropped acoustical ceiling to the cement of the floor slabs above. A myriad of pipes and ducts ran through this space, carrying the hospital’s vital supplies and wastes. The light was very poor, with only pencil-like beams seeping up from below in scattered locations between ceiling tiles.
The dropped ceiling was composed of the cardboard tile, held in place by thin metal strips, which were in turn hung from the cement slab above. Neither the tiles nor the metal strips were strong enough to carry any weight. In order to enter the ceiling space, Susan had to pull herself up onto the pipes, which she found either ice cold or very hot. Once up in the ceiling space, she replaced the ceiling tile she had moved. It fell back into place, cutting off the direct source of light.