32. Nick
32
NICK
I no more than shut the door to exam room two when Emily met me in the hallway. I'd been with Mrs. Maier again, doing some follow up after her surgery. She was a talkative lady, and though I felt my phone vibrating a few times deep inside my pocket, I knew better than to pull it out and look at it. She was also old-school and I respected that.
My hand slid into my pocket just as Emily opened her mouth to speak, and I saw concern in her eyes. "Dr. Edwards, there was a call from General. Ethan Moore has been taken by ambulance from school to the ER." Emily probably heard the rumors about him being my son, but she hadn't seen his file to know the DNA results proved it. This concern in her eyes was the fact that he was our patient.
"What? When?" I asked, suddenly realizing that the calls I had missed while tending to Mrs. Maier were probably Scarlett trying to get ahold of me. She was probably frantic now. We hadn't spoken all week after that incident with Fiona. She'd asked me for some space, so I'd given it to her.
"I got the call fifteen minutes ago. General called and said the school nurse told them Ethan is severely hypoxic and suffering LVOTO. They need you there." She bit her lip and handed me a tablet with information the EMTs sent over. I glanced at it as I took it, but I turned toward my phone to see the three missed calls from Scarlett.
"Christ," I hissed, and shoved the phone back in my pocket. I knew she was probably scared, but I had to focus on the medicine first. Ethan's stats were horrible. Blocked left ventricular blood flow meant surgery was a definite now and probably very urgently. My eyes scanned over the material, and I knew they were right to call me in. "Thanks, Em. Push all my appointments. I won't be back today." I darted for my office where I grabbed my keys and coat, and I left the tablet on my desk as I rushed out.
I didn't know what was happening. Scarlett and I knew surgery was probably inevitable, but Ethan was doing so well on the new medications I was sure we could wait until midwinter, after the holidays were over. This sudden shift in his condition meant it was acute, and now lifesaving surgery was needed or he might not even make it to Christmas.
I raced across town. I had to be there before the attending physician interpreted any results and gave Scarlett the bad news. I had to be there for her and assure her that I had no idea this was going to happen. I wracked my brain to try to figure out what had even happened. He should have been fine. There was no reason for his condition to deteriorate so quickly, especially after having found the right medication for the past several months.
When I pulled into the parking lot there weren't any spaces, so I double parked and locked my car. I ran into the building and threw my keys at Chuck, the security guard, and barked, "You'll have to move it. I have an emergency."
Chuck scowled at me but he didn't say anything, or if he did, I didn't hear him. I was too scared, moving too fast to slow down and have a discussion. I searched the ER frantically, threw back curtains to patients who weren't mine, until Mindy, a nurse on duty, waved me over.
"Here, Dr. Edwards, he's in here." Her raised eyebrows and look of worry told me she knew exactly who I was here to see.
I followed her to the farthest exam room where she held the curtain aside so I could walk in. Scarlett wasn't here yet, though my drive was only a few minutes, while she was all the way on the south side of Evergreen Creek and probably fighting school traffic into the city. As Ethan's biological father I had the right to make decisions for him, but not the legal right—not until Scarlett let me make it official on his birth certificate.
Ethan lay in the bed with an oxygen mask on his face wheezing. His eyes were shut, his lips blue. I looked down at his leg and noticed the heavy water retention and blue color and then his vitals readout caught my attention. His blood pressure was gravely low.
"What on earth?" I walked up to the computer and started typing, logging in and seeing what they'd done. "How long has he been here?" I asked, as a few nurses and the attending physician came into the exam room.
"Less than ten minutes. We put him on oxygen, have an IV started…Doc, this boy is sick; he needs surgery now." The attending was stating the obvious. It wasn't like I was blind. I could see with my own eyes how sick he was.
"Prep an OR now." I barked, seeing his blood oxygen levels were also deathly low. "Get an echo in here. He needs a septal myectomy, and he needs it now." I was shaking, terrified for my own son's life. I only just got him, and I wasn't ready to let him go.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible." The blood-chilling voice I heard was that of Marvin Bradshaw and I turned to see his stern expression.
"What do you mean?" I growled. He was no cardiologist. He had no clue what Ethan did or did not need. He was just getting in my way with his personal vendetta, and it disgusted me. I couldn't believe he would allow Fiona's petty issue with me get in the way of lifesaving surgery for my son.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Edwards, but you can't do the surgery. We'll have to call in Dr. Fanning, or Dr. Chandler." Marvin folded his hands in front of himself over his belt buckle in a very calm and calculated pose. Of course he was calm; he had no stake in this game.
"Get the OR ready now." I was angry, enraged even. I could punch this guy right in the nose. "Clear the room," I ordered and the nurses and attending physician looked around nervously. But they all left the room at my command, and I was ready to tear Marvin limb from limb.
"I can't let you operate on your own son, Nicholas. You know damn well that's illegal. The hospital will be liable. The boy's mother could sue if something goes wrong." Marvin had a fair point, and I knew the risk I was taking by doing this surgery myself. But I was here and they weren't. We had no time. Ethan was dying.
"If you don't let me do it, he'll die. You know that. Fanning and Chandler are an hour out at best, and if they're away it could be longer. Ethan doesn't have that time."
"Unfortunately," he said with a sinister smile, "you don't get to decide that. As a hospital board member and administrator, I'm telling you to stand down. You will not do this operation, or you will be terminated."
I stepped up closer to him and he squared his shoulders and set his jaw. If I pushed this he'd just call security. But if I let it go, how would I ever look Scarlett in the eye again, especially if Ethan died?
"No, Marvin. You can't stop me," I said, and I meant it. He could take my career, my license to practice medicine, and my entire livelihood. He was not taking my life again. Ethan and Scarlett were everything to me. I wasn't taking no for an answer.