Chapter 4 - The Bureaucracy
The back of the ambulance smelled of copper and sterile alcohol.
I refused to let the paramedics leave without me, physically pushing my way into the rig.
I straddled Thomas on the gurney, delivering continuous chest compressions as the ambulance tore through the Baltimore streets.
Phoebe and Dr. Wells were following us in my father's car.
"Keep pushing epinephrine!" I instructed the medic.
Every compression felt like fighting a losing battle against the ticking clock.
An aortic dissection was a catastrophic event.
The inner layer of the large blood vessel branching off the heart tears, causing blood to surge through the false channel.
If the aorta ruptured completely, Thomas would be dead before the ambulance stopped moving.
We pulled into the Hopkins emergency bay with the sirens blaring.
The trauma team was waiting at the doors, fully gowned and ready.
They pulled the stretcher out, and I jumped down, jogging alongside them.
"Massive aortic dissection," I shouted to the attending physician.
"He needs an immediate sternotomy and a graft repair."
The attending looked at my badge, which clearly stated I was from St. Augustine.
"We'll take it from here, doctor," the attending said dismissively.
"Page Dr. Evans to OR 4!"
"Evans is a general cardiothoracic surgeon," I argued, blocking the attending's path in the hallway.
"This tear is localized near the aortic root. If he doesn't use the modified Wells technique, the tissue will shred."
"You don't have privileges here," the attending snapped.
"Security will escort you to the waiting room."
Before the guards could even step forward, the emergency room doors blew open.
Dr. Richard Wells stormed into the trauma bay, looking like a king returning to his castle.
His eyes were bloodshot, but his posture was terrifyingly rigid.
"Where is my son?" his voice boomed through the corridor.
"Dr. Wells," the attending stammered. "We are prepping him for Dr. Evans."
"Evans couldn't stitch a torn sweater," Dr. Wells snarled.
He pointed a shaking finger directly at me.
"Dr. Claire is performing the surgery."
The attending shook his head rapidly.
May you like
"Sir, she isn't credentialed here. The hospital board will revoke my license if I allow a non-staff surgeon to open a patient."
Thomas's monitor suddenly began to scream, a high-pitched alarm signaling his blood pressure was completely bottoming out.
