“More epinephrine!” Kim barked.
“No!” Jason managed between pants. “I want calcium!”
“Epinephrine,” Kim repeated. His eyes were glued to the monitor cursor. When no syringe was forthcoming, he turned to look at the crash cart. “Where’s the epi?” he demanded.
“Calcium!” Jason repeated. “We’ve got to see some electrical activity. There’s got to be an ion imbalance.”
“Calcium’s coming up,” Claire said.
“No!” Kim yelled. He pushed through the group to stand in front of the crash cart. He glared at the nurse.
The nurse looked from Kim’s florid face to Claire’s. The nurse was confused as to what she should do.
Unaccustomed to being overruled, Kim snapped up a syringe packet and tore it open. Then he grabbed a vial of epinephrine and broke off its top. His trembling fingers dropped the needle. He had to get another.
“Dr. Reggis, no!” Claire said. She grabbed Kim’s arm. Walter Ohanesian, the hematologist, tried to help by grabbing Kim’s other arm.
Kim easily shook off both of these doctors and filled the syringe unimpeded. Pandemonium ensued as he tried to push his way back to the bedside. Both Kathleen and Arthur, the nephrologist, came to Claire and Walter’s aid. The scene devolved to a shoving match with shouts and threats.
“Oh, God!” Tracy moaned. “What a nightmare.”
“Hold it, everybody!” Jane shouted at the top of her lungs to get everyone’s attention. The struggle stopped. Then Jane added with urgency but in a more normal volume: “There’s something very strange happening. Jason’s getting good chest excursion, and I’m up to a hundred-percent oxygen, and yet her pupils are dilating! For some reason, there’s no circulation.”
Kim shook off the hands that were impeding him. No one moved or spoke except for Jason who kept up with the massage. The doctors were stymied. They were at a temporary loss as to what to do next.
Kim was the first to respond. His training as a surgeon would not allow him to deliberate a moment longer. He knew what he had to do. With no circulation despite good chest excursion, there was only one alternative. He spun around to face the nurses at the crash cart. “Scalpel!” he barked.
“Oh, no!” Claire shouted.
“Scalpel !“ Kim repeated more insistently.
“You can’t,” Claire yelled.
“Scalpel !“ Kim screamed. Tossing the syringe of epinephrine aside, he lunged past the others in the direction of the crash cart.
Kim snatched the glass tube containing the scalpel. He unscrewed the top with trembling fingers and extracted the sterile instrument. He tossed the glass tube aside; it shattered on the tile floor. He picked up an alcohol swab and tore open its package with his teeth.
At this point, only Claire was willing to attempt to bar his way. But her efforts were in vain. He pushed her aside with a gentle but firm shove.
“No!” Tracy cried. She wasn’t a physician, but her intuition told her what Kim was going to do. She started forward, and Marsha let her go.
Kim reached the bedside and literally knocked Jason off the bed. He swabbed Becky’s chest with alcohol. Then, before Tracy could quite get to him, he sliced open his daughter’s thorax in one decisive, bloodless sweep.
A collective gasp rose from everyone present except for Tracy. Her response was more of a wail. She staggered back from the appalling scene and would have collapsed if she hadn’t been caught by the nephrologist, Arthur.
On the other side of the bed, Jason struggled to his feet. When he saw what was happening he, too, shrank back.
Kim lost no time. Oblivious to the others in the tiny room, the consummate surgeon used both hands to pull Becky’s slender ribs apart with a decisive crack. Then he shoved his bare hand into his daughter’s open chest and began rhythmically to compress her heart.
Kim’s Herculean effort was short-lived. After only a few compressions, he could feel that Becky’s heart had perforated and was far from normal in texture. It was as if it weren’t muscle but rather something much softer which seemed to squish between his fingers. Stunned by this unexpected situation, he withdrew his hand. In the process he also pulled out some of the foreign-feeling tissue. Confused as to what it could be. he brought the bloody material up to his face to inspect it.