“That’s reassuring,” Tracy said.
“Listen, I’m going to stay here,” Kim said. “I’ll see a few patients, including the pre-ops for tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind in the slightest,” Tracy said. “In fact I think it’s a good idea.”
“It’s hard for me to sit there and do nothing,” Kim explained.
“I understand completely.” Tracy said. “You do what you have to do. I’ll be here, so don’t worry.”
“Call me if there is any change,” Kim said.
“Of course!” Tracy said. “You’ll be the first to know.”
When Ginger arrived just before nine, Kim told her to cancel whatever patients she could, because he wanted to get back to the hospital sometime in the afternoon.
Ginger asked about Becky, saying she was disappointed Kim hadn’t called her the night before. She’d been worrying all night but had been afraid to phone.
Kim told her Becky was doing better following the surgery. He also explained that he’d not gotten home until after midnight and thought it much too late to call.
At first Kim found seeing patients was not easy under the circumstances, but he forced himself to concentrate. Gradually the effort paid off. By noontime, he felt slightly more relaxed although his heart would race every time the phone rang.
He wasn’t hungry at lunchtime, and the takeout sandwich Ginger had brought in sat untouched on his desk. Kim preferred to immerse himself totally in his patients’ problems. That way he didn’t have to deal with his own.
In the middle of the afternoon, Kim was on the phone with a cardiologist from Chicago when Ginger stuck her head in the door. From her expression alone Kim could tell something was wrong. Kim covered the mouthpiece with his palm.
“Tracy was on the other line,” Ginger said. “She was very upset. She told me that Becky has taken a sudden turn for the worse and has been moved to the ICU.”
Kim’s pulse quickened. He quickly wound up the conversation with the Chicago doctor and hung up. He changed his jacket, grabbed his car keys, and ran for the door.
“What should I do with the rest of the patients?” Ginger asked.
“Send them home,” Kim said tersely.
Kim drove with determination, frequently barreling along the shoulder to avoid afternoon traffic jams. The closer he got to the hospital the more anxious he became. Although he’d been lobbying to have Becky moved to the ICU, now that she had been he was terrified. Having become all too aware of AmeriCare’s cost-saving attitudes, he was certain the move wasn’t for prophylaxis; there had to have been a serious emergency.
Eschewing the doctors’ parking area, Kim drove right up beneath the hospital’s porte cochere. He leaped out and tossed his keys to a surprised hospital security guard.
Kim fidgeted as the elevator rose painstakingly slowly up to the ICU’s floor. Once in the corridor crowded with visitors, Kim moved as fast as he could. As he came abreast of a waiting room built specifically for family members of ICU patients, Kim caught sight of Tracy. She stood up when she saw him and came forward.
Tracy threw her arms around Kim. pinning his to his side. For a moment she would not let go. Kim had to forcibly extricate his arms before gently pushing her back. He looked into her eyes, which were brimming with tears.
“What happened?” he asked. He was afraid to hear the answer.
“She’s worse,” Tracy managed. “Much worse, and it seemed to happen so suddenly, just like with the perforation.”
“What was it?” Kim asked with alarm.
“It was her breathing,” Tracy said. “All of the sudden she couldn’t get her breath.”
Kim tried to break away from Tracy, but she held on, clutching his jacket. “Kim, promise me you’ll control yourself. You have to, for Becky’s sake.”
Kim broke Tracy’s hold and ran from the room.
“Kim, wait!” Tracy called, running after him.
Ignoring Tracy, Kim dashed across the hall and entered the ICU. Just inside the door, he held up for a moment while he scanned the room. Most of the beds were full. The occupants were all seriously ill patients. Nurses toiled at nearly every bedside. Banks of electronic monitoring equipment beeped and displayed vital data.