Chapter 2
It was the early hours of the morning by the time the operation was over and the family had their first sight of Gordon. They were met at the door of the intensive care unit by a small, blonde woman with an air of brisk efficiency. "Hallo", she said, "I'm Glenda Norris. I'm the nurse who'll be 'specialing' Gordon while he's in ICU. I'm letting you all in to see him now so I can explain everything to you, but after this I'm afraid we have quite strict rules in this ward. Because of all the equipment each patient needs we can only have two visitors to each bed." She paused. "As there are four of you I suggest you sort yourself out some sort of rota."
Jeff looked at his sons. "You boys sort it out between you. I'm staying here." The boys glanced at each other and nodded. They knew better than try to argue with their father when he used that particular tone of voice.
Glenda led them over to part of the ward where a large white box stood, surrounded by various pieces of equipment. "As you see" she said, "he's already been put in the cryo tank. This means we can reduce his heart rate to about 20 beats per minute, and lower his blood pressure."
The family peered through the clear plastic lid. Alan swallowed hard, Scott turned several shades paler. Virgil's first thought was 'It's a good job John can't see this - it would break him'.
The only recognisable feature of Gordon was the colour of his hair. His face was battered and swollen, his body a mass of livid bruises, with tubes and wires attached at various points. Most horrifying was the fact that all his limbs and pelvis were surrounded by a steel frame holding pins that went directly into his flesh, like some medieval instrument of torture. Glenda spoke. "Let me explain what you are seeing. The bruising on his face and body is what we call deceleration bruising - that's when the outside of the body stops but the internal parts are still moving. There were some bones broken in his face from the impact on the inside of his crash helmet, but they've been reset. The body braces on his limbs are holding the broken pieces of bone in place so they can knit together The tubes you see are for intravenous feeding, also we have him on an artificial liver and kidney dialysis. This is all to take the strain off his internal organs while they recover."
Jeff sat down in the chair next to the bed. Right now he didn't think his legs would carry him anyway. "Right", he said, "who's taking the first shift with me?"
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By mid-afternoon Virgil was on duty. His father had just popped out to grab a coffee when Glenda came back onto the ward. She came up to the bed and turned to address Gordon. (She always did this with her patients, whether they were conscious or not, and encouraged their visitors to do the same). "Well, Lieutenant Tracy, you are a popular young man it seems".
Virgil looked up. "What makes you say that?"
She turned to him. "I've just been having my tea-break in the canteen, and talking to my friend Pat who works in the blood donor unit. You probably met her this morning when you were down there" Virgil nodded, fingering the plaster on his arm. "Anyway, she tells me they've been rushed off their feet today. More than 200 people from the WASP base have come in to give blood. She reckons they must be coming over from Pearl Harbour by the busload!"
"That is a lovely gesture," replied Virgil. "I know Dad phoned the base this morning to let them know how Gordon was doing. He will be touched to hear that."
"We've always had close connections with the naval base" continued Glenda, "which is only appropriate really".
Virgil looked at her quizzically.
"You know why this is called the Kane Hospital?"
"I hadn't really thought about it. I presumed it was named after some guy called Kane."
Glenda shook her head. "Kane is the Hawaiian god of light and life - which is why the hospital was named after him - but he's also the god of water."
Virgil turned to the figure in the bed. "You hear that, Gordy? You're being looked after by a water god!"
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After five days things had settled into almost a routine. The boys took over from each other at four hour intervals, while Jeff stayed in his chair, grabbing meals when he could and cat-napping when he could no longer stay awake. Late one evening, Scott was sitting by the bedside when Glenda and one of the doctors approached carrying some printouts. The doctor addressed Jeff. "Mr Tracy, I have to warn you, I think we are approaching a crisis here."
"What's gone wrong?" asked Jeff, concerned.
"It's not a case of anything going wrong. Let me try to explain. When a body is injured it starts to repair itself. It produces a mass of white blood cells, and one of their functions is to absorb the damaged cells and take them away, so the body can then grow new ones to repair the damage. These damaged cells are dead matter, and need to be removed from the system as soon as possible or they become a toxin - poisoning the system. When a person is as badly injured as Gordon, theses toxins can build up to dangerous levels. We've been monitoring his blood, and the levels are approaching danger limits."
"Can't you give him anything to stop it?"
"We're giving him as much as we think he can take at the moment. There's nothing more we can do. Quite simply, sometimes a body is so badly injured that it decides it can't fight any longer and just gives up. This is a difficult question, Mr Tracy, but I have to ask, for legal reasons. Bearing in mind that Gordon might have suffered brain damage, that he might not be able to walk again - if his heart stops beating, do you want us to resuscitate him?"
"Not my son!" Jeff exclaimed, smashing his fist into the palm of the other hand. "Tracys never give up - and don't you dare give up on him either!" He stormed off to stand looking out of the window, with his back to the room.
The doctor turned to leave, but Glenda remained. "I'm sorry about that", Scott said. "This is all very hard for Dad. He's not like that usually."
"Don't worry about it, Scott" replied Glenda, "We see all sorts of things in here".
"If - " Scott paused, not sure how to go on.
"If his heart does stop?" prompted Glenda.
"Yes" went on Scott, relieved, "What happens? Is there anything we should do?"
Glenda pointed to one of the pieces of equipment, where a black screen was crossed by a line that jerked in a spike every few seconds. "That's the electrocardiograph that is monitoring Gordon's heartbeat. If his heart stops, it will sound an alarm. At that point you'll have a medical team rushing at you from all directions, so don't get in their way." She put a hand on his arm. "One thing you can do at that point is keep talking to your brother. It is amazing what a patient is aware of, even under those circumstances. I've had patients who were technically dead, but after we've resuscitated them they've been able to tell me not only what was being said, but who was standing where and even what they were wearing!"
She turned to leave, and Scott settled back into his chair. His father returned and sat down, but when Scott glanced across at him, one look at his face told Scott he was not in the mood for conversation As the hours ticked by Scott found himself almost mesmerised by watching the ECG. Jeff had fallen into a doze, but Scott was unable to take his eyes off the screen. How could a little green dot running across a black screen, forming a blip in the middle, determine someone's life? Especially someone as vibrant and complex as Gordon.
Line. Blip. Line.
As he watched the screen, each blip seemed to summon up an image from Gordon's life.
Line. Blip. Line.
Gordon as a toddler, running after John, pleading, "Swim! Swim!", too young to understand, as his older brothers did, that they were not allowed in the pool unless an adult was present.
Line. Blip. Line.
An adolescent Gordon, holding his sides and laughing as his older brothers fell victim to yet another of his practical jokes.
Line. Blip. Line.
Fifteen year-old Gordon flashing through the water at his first U.S. Junior championships to win the gold, beating older and stronger boys.
Line. Blip. Line.
A very grown-up looking Gordon in his dress uniform at passing out parade as he graduated as a full member of the WASPs.
Line. Line. Line. Line. Line.
Scott was on his feet, dragging his father with him to stand at the head of the bed, before the alarm sounded.
"What the." exclaimed Jeff.
Four medical staff were running towards them, one pulling a trolley laden with equipment. Glenda flung open the lid of the cryo tank, wisps of vapour forming from the cold air. She glared at Scott. "If you love your brother, talk to him!"
"Gordon", Scott could hear the panic in his own voice. "Gordon, hang in there. Don't leave us. Don't go."
Jeff joined in "Gordon, come on, fight! Don't give up!"
Meanwhile the medical team were in a frenzy of activity. "I can't get enough pressure to do chest compressions," said one nurse "I can't reach far enough into this damn tank."
"Here" said a second one, "I'm taller, let me try" and he reached over and started pounding on Gordon's chest in a regular rhythm.
"We can't use the electro-shock paddles with all this metalwork he's got in him," said the doctor. "I'll just have to try adrenaline." Picking up a needle she plunged it directly through Gordon's chest, straight into his heart.
At the sight of this, Jeff's control broke. "DAMMIT, GORDON" he roared, "DIE ON US NOW AND YOU'LL NEVER GET THAT ONE-MAN SUBMARINE!"
Blip.
"Hold on, folks" called one of the nurses, "I think we've got an output." Everyone held their breath and stared at the monitor.
Blip. Blip. Line. Blip. Line. Line. Blip. Line. Line. Blip. Line.
"OK, team" said the doctor, "It looks like he's back with us again. Well done everybody." The staff packed up their equipment and moved away, congratulating each other. Jeff moved round so he was facing Gordon, and stood there with his hand on his son's chest, as if he had to feel for himself that the heart was beating once again. "Dad" said Scott. He touched his father's shoulder. "Dad, the nurse needs to close the tank now." Reluctantly, Jeff removed his hand and turned away.
Glenda finished closing the tank, then turned towards Jeff. "Mr Tracy" she said firmly, "you look exhausted. Go back to your hotel and get some rest." Jeff opened his mouth to protest but she continued "If you carry on like this you'll end up a patient here too, and you'll be no use to your son then. Go and get some sleep.- I don't want to see you on this ward again for another ten hours."
Scott held his breath and waited for the explosion. No-one talked to Jeff Tracy like that. But to his utter astonishment, Jeff muttered a meek "Yes, Ma'am" and turned and left the ward. Scott turned to Glenda in amazement. "You do realise that's one of the most powerful men in the country that you have just packed off to bed like a ten-year-old schoolkid?"
She shrugged. "I wouldn't care if it was the World President himself. If he looked like that I would still send him to bed." She turned to Scott. "And how are you feeling, Scott Tracy?" she looked closely "You still look a bit shaken up".
"I still feel it," said Scott. weakly, "I've been in dangerous situations myself before now, but I've never faced anything like that."
"Yes," agreed Glenda "the first time you pull someone back from the dead it can be a bit daunting".
"Pull someone back." repeated Scott. "Yes, I suppose you did"
"We all did," replied Glenda, firmly. "You helped, too. Sometimes I feel I'm personally standing between my patient and the guy with the scythe, saying 'No, you can't take this one, I won't let you'. Of course" she added sadly "I don't always win, but when I do I realise that's why I like working on this unit."
Scott looked at her, for once realising that the uniform and efficient manner concealed a very spiritual person. "You'd enjoy meeting my brother John. He's always coming out with things like that."
She pushed him towards the chair. "Get some rest, Scott. Virgil will be along soon, but there won't be any more crises tonight"
"How can you be sure of that?"
She turned to look at the figure in the bed. "Because Gordon has made his choice now. He's chosen to stay and fight - he's chosen to live. It's still going to be a long struggle, but the worst is over now" With a final pat on Scott's arm she turned and left.
Scott leaned forward and whispered to the still form of his brother "Thank you, Gordy".
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It was the early hours of the morning by the time the operation was over and the family had their first sight of Gordon. They were met at the door of the intensive care unit by a small, blonde woman with an air of brisk efficiency. "Hallo", she said, "I'm Glenda Norris. I'm the nurse who'll be 'specialing' Gordon while he's in ICU. I'm letting you all in to see him now so I can explain everything to you, but after this I'm afraid we have quite strict rules in this ward. Because of all the equipment each patient needs we can only have two visitors to each bed." She paused. "As there are four of you I suggest you sort yourself out some sort of rota."
Jeff looked at his sons. "You boys sort it out between you. I'm staying here." The boys glanced at each other and nodded. They knew better than try to argue with their father when he used that particular tone of voice.
Glenda led them over to part of the ward where a large white box stood, surrounded by various pieces of equipment. "As you see" she said, "he's already been put in the cryo tank. This means we can reduce his heart rate to about 20 beats per minute, and lower his blood pressure."
The family peered through the clear plastic lid. Alan swallowed hard, Scott turned several shades paler. Virgil's first thought was 'It's a good job John can't see this - it would break him'.
The only recognisable feature of Gordon was the colour of his hair. His face was battered and swollen, his body a mass of livid bruises, with tubes and wires attached at various points. Most horrifying was the fact that all his limbs and pelvis were surrounded by a steel frame holding pins that went directly into his flesh, like some medieval instrument of torture. Glenda spoke. "Let me explain what you are seeing. The bruising on his face and body is what we call deceleration bruising - that's when the outside of the body stops but the internal parts are still moving. There were some bones broken in his face from the impact on the inside of his crash helmet, but they've been reset. The body braces on his limbs are holding the broken pieces of bone in place so they can knit together The tubes you see are for intravenous feeding, also we have him on an artificial liver and kidney dialysis. This is all to take the strain off his internal organs while they recover."
Jeff sat down in the chair next to the bed. Right now he didn't think his legs would carry him anyway. "Right", he said, "who's taking the first shift with me?"
-------------------------------------------------------------------- -- ---------
By mid-afternoon Virgil was on duty. His father had just popped out to grab a coffee when Glenda came back onto the ward. She came up to the bed and turned to address Gordon. (She always did this with her patients, whether they were conscious or not, and encouraged their visitors to do the same). "Well, Lieutenant Tracy, you are a popular young man it seems".
Virgil looked up. "What makes you say that?"
She turned to him. "I've just been having my tea-break in the canteen, and talking to my friend Pat who works in the blood donor unit. You probably met her this morning when you were down there" Virgil nodded, fingering the plaster on his arm. "Anyway, she tells me they've been rushed off their feet today. More than 200 people from the WASP base have come in to give blood. She reckons they must be coming over from Pearl Harbour by the busload!"
"That is a lovely gesture," replied Virgil. "I know Dad phoned the base this morning to let them know how Gordon was doing. He will be touched to hear that."
"We've always had close connections with the naval base" continued Glenda, "which is only appropriate really".
Virgil looked at her quizzically.
"You know why this is called the Kane Hospital?"
"I hadn't really thought about it. I presumed it was named after some guy called Kane."
Glenda shook her head. "Kane is the Hawaiian god of light and life - which is why the hospital was named after him - but he's also the god of water."
Virgil turned to the figure in the bed. "You hear that, Gordy? You're being looked after by a water god!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------- -- ---------
After five days things had settled into almost a routine. The boys took over from each other at four hour intervals, while Jeff stayed in his chair, grabbing meals when he could and cat-napping when he could no longer stay awake. Late one evening, Scott was sitting by the bedside when Glenda and one of the doctors approached carrying some printouts. The doctor addressed Jeff. "Mr Tracy, I have to warn you, I think we are approaching a crisis here."
"What's gone wrong?" asked Jeff, concerned.
"It's not a case of anything going wrong. Let me try to explain. When a body is injured it starts to repair itself. It produces a mass of white blood cells, and one of their functions is to absorb the damaged cells and take them away, so the body can then grow new ones to repair the damage. These damaged cells are dead matter, and need to be removed from the system as soon as possible or they become a toxin - poisoning the system. When a person is as badly injured as Gordon, theses toxins can build up to dangerous levels. We've been monitoring his blood, and the levels are approaching danger limits."
"Can't you give him anything to stop it?"
"We're giving him as much as we think he can take at the moment. There's nothing more we can do. Quite simply, sometimes a body is so badly injured that it decides it can't fight any longer and just gives up. This is a difficult question, Mr Tracy, but I have to ask, for legal reasons. Bearing in mind that Gordon might have suffered brain damage, that he might not be able to walk again - if his heart stops beating, do you want us to resuscitate him?"
"Not my son!" Jeff exclaimed, smashing his fist into the palm of the other hand. "Tracys never give up - and don't you dare give up on him either!" He stormed off to stand looking out of the window, with his back to the room.
The doctor turned to leave, but Glenda remained. "I'm sorry about that", Scott said. "This is all very hard for Dad. He's not like that usually."
"Don't worry about it, Scott" replied Glenda, "We see all sorts of things in here".
"If - " Scott paused, not sure how to go on.
"If his heart does stop?" prompted Glenda.
"Yes" went on Scott, relieved, "What happens? Is there anything we should do?"
Glenda pointed to one of the pieces of equipment, where a black screen was crossed by a line that jerked in a spike every few seconds. "That's the electrocardiograph that is monitoring Gordon's heartbeat. If his heart stops, it will sound an alarm. At that point you'll have a medical team rushing at you from all directions, so don't get in their way." She put a hand on his arm. "One thing you can do at that point is keep talking to your brother. It is amazing what a patient is aware of, even under those circumstances. I've had patients who were technically dead, but after we've resuscitated them they've been able to tell me not only what was being said, but who was standing where and even what they were wearing!"
She turned to leave, and Scott settled back into his chair. His father returned and sat down, but when Scott glanced across at him, one look at his face told Scott he was not in the mood for conversation As the hours ticked by Scott found himself almost mesmerised by watching the ECG. Jeff had fallen into a doze, but Scott was unable to take his eyes off the screen. How could a little green dot running across a black screen, forming a blip in the middle, determine someone's life? Especially someone as vibrant and complex as Gordon.
Line. Blip. Line.
As he watched the screen, each blip seemed to summon up an image from Gordon's life.
Line. Blip. Line.
Gordon as a toddler, running after John, pleading, "Swim! Swim!", too young to understand, as his older brothers did, that they were not allowed in the pool unless an adult was present.
Line. Blip. Line.
An adolescent Gordon, holding his sides and laughing as his older brothers fell victim to yet another of his practical jokes.
Line. Blip. Line.
Fifteen year-old Gordon flashing through the water at his first U.S. Junior championships to win the gold, beating older and stronger boys.
Line. Blip. Line.
A very grown-up looking Gordon in his dress uniform at passing out parade as he graduated as a full member of the WASPs.
Line. Line. Line. Line. Line.
Scott was on his feet, dragging his father with him to stand at the head of the bed, before the alarm sounded.
"What the." exclaimed Jeff.
Four medical staff were running towards them, one pulling a trolley laden with equipment. Glenda flung open the lid of the cryo tank, wisps of vapour forming from the cold air. She glared at Scott. "If you love your brother, talk to him!"
"Gordon", Scott could hear the panic in his own voice. "Gordon, hang in there. Don't leave us. Don't go."
Jeff joined in "Gordon, come on, fight! Don't give up!"
Meanwhile the medical team were in a frenzy of activity. "I can't get enough pressure to do chest compressions," said one nurse "I can't reach far enough into this damn tank."
"Here" said a second one, "I'm taller, let me try" and he reached over and started pounding on Gordon's chest in a regular rhythm.
"We can't use the electro-shock paddles with all this metalwork he's got in him," said the doctor. "I'll just have to try adrenaline." Picking up a needle she plunged it directly through Gordon's chest, straight into his heart.
At the sight of this, Jeff's control broke. "DAMMIT, GORDON" he roared, "DIE ON US NOW AND YOU'LL NEVER GET THAT ONE-MAN SUBMARINE!"
Blip.
"Hold on, folks" called one of the nurses, "I think we've got an output." Everyone held their breath and stared at the monitor.
Blip. Blip. Line. Blip. Line. Line. Blip. Line. Line. Blip. Line.
"OK, team" said the doctor, "It looks like he's back with us again. Well done everybody." The staff packed up their equipment and moved away, congratulating each other. Jeff moved round so he was facing Gordon, and stood there with his hand on his son's chest, as if he had to feel for himself that the heart was beating once again. "Dad" said Scott. He touched his father's shoulder. "Dad, the nurse needs to close the tank now." Reluctantly, Jeff removed his hand and turned away.
Glenda finished closing the tank, then turned towards Jeff. "Mr Tracy" she said firmly, "you look exhausted. Go back to your hotel and get some rest." Jeff opened his mouth to protest but she continued "If you carry on like this you'll end up a patient here too, and you'll be no use to your son then. Go and get some sleep.- I don't want to see you on this ward again for another ten hours."
Scott held his breath and waited for the explosion. No-one talked to Jeff Tracy like that. But to his utter astonishment, Jeff muttered a meek "Yes, Ma'am" and turned and left the ward. Scott turned to Glenda in amazement. "You do realise that's one of the most powerful men in the country that you have just packed off to bed like a ten-year-old schoolkid?"
She shrugged. "I wouldn't care if it was the World President himself. If he looked like that I would still send him to bed." She turned to Scott. "And how are you feeling, Scott Tracy?" she looked closely "You still look a bit shaken up".
"I still feel it," said Scott. weakly, "I've been in dangerous situations myself before now, but I've never faced anything like that."
"Yes," agreed Glenda "the first time you pull someone back from the dead it can be a bit daunting".
"Pull someone back." repeated Scott. "Yes, I suppose you did"
"We all did," replied Glenda, firmly. "You helped, too. Sometimes I feel I'm personally standing between my patient and the guy with the scythe, saying 'No, you can't take this one, I won't let you'. Of course" she added sadly "I don't always win, but when I do I realise that's why I like working on this unit."
Scott looked at her, for once realising that the uniform and efficient manner concealed a very spiritual person. "You'd enjoy meeting my brother John. He's always coming out with things like that."
She pushed him towards the chair. "Get some rest, Scott. Virgil will be along soon, but there won't be any more crises tonight"
"How can you be sure of that?"
She turned to look at the figure in the bed. "Because Gordon has made his choice now. He's chosen to stay and fight - he's chosen to live. It's still going to be a long struggle, but the worst is over now" With a final pat on Scott's arm she turned and left.
Scott leaned forward and whispered to the still form of his brother "Thank you, Gordy".
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