"Godzilla and The Smog Monster"
Chapter Twenty-Two
Anesthesiologist Alan Doherty listened, in stunned silence, as Paul Kurtz 'filled him in' on their surgical patient's current physical condition.
The physician finished his grim briefing.
Doherty gazed at the doctor in total disbelief. "His lungs have already been compromised…he was just in complete respiratory and cardiac arrest…his system has been pumped full of sedatives and adrenaline…This patient is not a prime candidate for general anesthesia!"
"Agreed!" the surgeon snapped back. "But we don't really have a choice!" They needed to get back in there and repair these latest damages, and, in order to do that, the patient would have to be placed under anesthesia. "We'll work as quickly as we can!" Kurtz compromised.
Doherty's shoulders sagged in resignation.
The OR's doors flew open and a hospital bed was guided into the room. The bed's groaning occupant was promptly transferred to the operating table.
The anesthesiologist heard the groans and sighed in relief. At least the patient hadn't been pumped full of painkillers. "Who-o are you-ou?" Alan asked the surgically-garbed blond guy standing at the groaning young man's side.
"His 'brother'," Kurtz replied. "I didn't want to push anymore drugs into him. So I told him he could accompany the patient…to keep him calm."
Doherty accepted the doctor's explanation. "Better keep it short!" he advised, following a thorough examination of the groaning guy's lungs and vital signs.
All monitors and tubes were reconnected.
Alan reluctantly administered the anesthetic into their patient's IV port.
The groaning mercifully stopped the moment the patient slipped under.
Doherty stared directly at the guy's 'brother' and pointed to the doors. "Shoo!"
Roy turned to John's surgeon, curious to see if the grumpy guy had the authority to order him out of the room.
Kurtz turned to the adamant anesthesiologist and pleaded the vertical fireman's case. "I really think you should let him stay, Alan…"
But Doherty didn't budge. "He's in my way!" he determined, and expertly reinserted their patient's missing trach' tube.
The surgeon gave the fireman's 'brother' a sympathetic glance…and a helpless shrug.
DeSoto gave his partner's right hand a reassuring squeeze…and obligingly left the room.
Alan's eyes widened in alarm, as their surgical patient's previously steady respiration and heart rates suddenly—and quite dramatically—increased! He exchanged anxious glances with the two masked doctors and then proceeded to procure a fresh set of vitals.
The patient's pulse and BP had also risen rather alarmingly.
It was just a co-incidence! The guy was unconscious, for cryin' out loud! How could he possibly tell that his brother had just been escorted out of the OR?
Doherty glanced at the waiting surgeons again and then aimed his troubled gaze toward their two surgical assistants. "Somebody wanna go bring that blond guy back in here?"
One the RNs nodded and left the room.
Kurtz didn't even give the anesthesiologist so much as an 'I tried to tell you' glance. The surgeon simply smiled—behind his mask.
The OR's doors swished open and 'that blond guy' was ushered back up to the operating table.
The paramedic promptly placed his right hand over his unconscious friend's blue diamond stamped appendage.
Much to Doherty's consternation, their surgical patient's condition instantly started to stabilize. So-o…it wasn't just a co-incidence, after all. 'But ho-ow…?' He managed an exasperated gasp and then, begrudgingly, gave the 'go ahead'.
Kurtz nodded to Gerard, and the two surgeons immediately went to work.
William Jenner ended his second 'urgent' phone call with Chief Robert Brevik, in as many days. "There was another attempt made on John's life last night—er, I should say, earlier this morning," the Fire Department Head informed his worried wife. "It seems someone just strolled into his hospital room—bold as brass—and suffocated him as he slept. The doctors managed to get his heart going again. But they had to take him back into surgery. I'm going to the hospital. He may not even be alive, by the time I get there," he finished, bitterly.
Martha Jenner made no comment, nor any attempt to stop him.
Two hours later, there was a knock on the Jenner's back door.
Martha got up from their breakfast counter, to answer it. "Good morning, Clara darling," she greeted her friend and next door neighbor, and guided the woman into her kitchen. "And Happy New Year!"
"Good morning, Martha! Good morning! And a very Happy New Year to you, too!" Clara cheerfully exclaimed. "Where's Bill?" she inquired, as her search of the kitchen and dining areas came up empty.
"He…uhhh…had some urgent business to attend to."
Clara was confused. "Wha-at? On a Sunday?" A look of dawning understanding suddenly came over her. "Oh-oh. Something to do with that dreadful shooting yesterday. Right?"
Martha poured her pal a cup of steaming black coffee and reluctantly nodded.
"Tell me, why would anyone ever want to shoot a fireman? I mean, a policeman, maybe…but not a fireman! I tell you, the whole world is going crazy!" Clara declared in one lo-ong breath. "Still," the woman continued, when she got her 'second wind', "if a fireman had to be shot, it's just as well it was that young man. He has no wife and kids, you know. At least, that's what the papers say. But, can you imagine if he'd a' been married? Some poor woman almost losing her husband like that? Or, some poor kids almost having to grow up without a father? And all because some 'sicko' decides to shoot a fireman! I mean, as if the damn job isn't dangerous enough, as it is!"
Martha heaved a heavy sigh and sank back down onto her stool. She could very well imagine that! That 'poor woman' could have been Bill's niece!
Craig approached Paul Kurtz and Lee Gerard, as the two doctors came limping stiffly out of the OR, sliding their surgical garb off.
"We stopped the hemorrhaging—again, got his drainage reestablished, and the fracture repaired," Kurtz informed the worried fireman. "His condition—for the moment—is stable." The surgeon saw that his audience was only the slightest bit relieved and realized the guy was still waiting—er, still hoping for some assurance that his 'brother' was gonna make it. The doctor exhaled an exhausted sigh and stood there, wishing he could make such an assurance. But he couldn't. Not this time. "I can assure you that he will be getting the best care possible, and that we're going to be doing everything we possibly can for him. Right now, I'm afraid it's all just a matter of waiting…to see how well he responds to this latest surgery. He's in good hands. And, the longer your brother's condition remains stable, the greater the odds are in his favor." The doctor suddenly noticed that the fireman looked about as beat on his feet as he was feeling. "Leave a number where you can be reached, and then go get some rest. Waiting can take a whole lot out of you."
Brice gave the surgeon an appreciative nod. "Thank you, Doctor."
Both doctors smiled and nodded and started walking off down the hall, heading for the elevators.
The doors to the OR opened once more. Two surgically garbed people locked them in position and then turned back to help guide a gurney out into the corridor.
Brice stepped quickly up to the motionless figure on the stretcher. "Hang in there, John!" he quietly urged.
"Don't worry, Craig," a very familiar voice came back. "I intend to stick around and see to it that he sticks around."
Craig recognized the blue eyes behind the surgical mask. They belonged to John's partner.
Roy was still standing at their brother's side, still holding onto his partner's right appendage.
Brice turned back to Gage. "Dr. Kurtz was right. You are in good hands…"
Following a rather lengthy briefing at headquarters, Chief Jenner and his aide, Chief Brevik, finally entered Rampart General's Emergency Receiving.
Two men left their seats in the ER's waiting room and stepped up to them.
"Chief, am I glad you're here!" Rudy Dalbert began. "Something important's just come up—"
"—And Dr. Brackett says we can use his office to discuss it," LAPD's Lieutenant Eugene McCord interrupted.
The four men turned and hurried off down the hall, in the direction of the doctor's office.
TBC