Eleven

Cassandra woke up with a start, looking into the smiling face of a lab technician who was calling “Dr. Cassidy” for the third time.

“You do sleep soundly,” she said, seeing Cassi’s eyes finally open.

Cassi shook her head, wondering why she felt drugged. Then she remembered getting the second sleeping pill.

“I’ve got to draw some blood,” apologized the technician. “You’ve got a fasting blood sugar ordered.”

“Okay,” said Cassi equably. She let the technologist have her left arm, remembering that for the next couple of days she would not be administering her own insulin.

A few minutes later a nurse came in and deftly started an IV in Cassi’s left arm, hanging up a bottle of D5W with ten units of regular insulin. Then she gave Cassi her preop medication.

“That should hold you,” said the nurse. “Try to relax now. They should be coming for you presently.”

By the time Cassi was picked up and wheeled down to the elevator she felt a strange sense of detachment, as if the experience were happening to someone else. When she reached the OR holding area, she was only vaguely aware of the profusion of gurneys, nurses, and doctors. She didn’t even recognize Thomas until he bent over and kissed her, and then she told him that he looked silly in his operating paraphernalia. At least she thought she told him so.

“Everything is going to be fine,” said Thomas, squeezing her hand. “I’m glad you decided to go ahead with your surgery. It’s the best thing.”

Dr. Obermeyer materialized on Cassi’s left. “I want you to take good care of my wife!” she heard Thomas say. Then she must have fallen asleep. The next thing she was aware of was being pushed down the OR corridor into the operating room itself. She didn’t feel at all scared.

“I’m going to give you something to make you sleepy,” said the anesthesiologist.

“I am sleepy,” she murmured, watching the drops fall into the micropore chamber of the IV bottle hung over her head. In the next second, she was fast asleep.

The OR team moved swiftly. By 8:05 her eye muscles had been isolated and tapes had been passed around them. As soon as complete immobilization had been achieved, Dr. Obermeyer made stab wounds in the sclera and introduced his cutting and sucking instruments. Using a special microscope, he sighted through the cornea and pupil to the blood-stained vitreous. By 8:45 he began to see Cassi’s retina. By 9:15 he found the source of the recurrent bleeding. It was a single aberrant loop of new vessel coming from Cassi’s optic disc. With great care, Dr. Obermeyer coagulated and obliterated it. He felt very encouraged. Not only was the problem solved, there was no reason to expect it to recur. Cassi was a lucky woman.

• • •

Thomas had finished his only coronary bypass for the day. He’d canceled the next two. Happily the case had gone tolerably well although he again had trouble sewing the anastomoses. Unlike the previous day, though, he was able to finish, but the moment Larry Owen began to close, Thomas changed into his street clothes. Normally he waited until Larry brought the patient to the recovery room, but this morning he was too nervous to sit around with nothing to do. Instead he stopped down in the OR to see how things were going.

“Just fine,” shouted Larry over his shoulder. “We’re closing the skin now. The halothane’s been stopped.”

“Good. I’ve been called on an emergency.”

“Everything under control here.”

Thomas left the hospital, something he rarely did during a working day, and climbed into his Porsche. It thrilled him to hear the powerful engine as he turned on the ignition. After the frustration of the hospital, the car provided an enormous sense of freedom. Nothing on the road could touch him. Nothing!

Driving across Boston, Thomas left the car in a No Parking zone directly in front of a large pharmacy, confident his MD license plate would save him from a ticket. Entering the store, he went directly to the prescription counter.

The pharmacist, in his traditional high-necked tunic, emerged from behind the high counter.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes,” said Thomas. “I called earlier about some drugs.”

“Of course. I’ve got it right here,” said the pharmacist, holding up a small cardboard carton.

“Do you want me to write a script for it?” asked Thomas.

“Nah. Let me see your M.D. license. That’ll be adequate.”

Thomas flipped open his wallet and held it out for the pharmacist who just glanced at the license, then asked: “That’ll be all?”

Thomas nodded, putting his wallet away.

“We don’t have much call for that dosage,” said the pharmacist.

“I’ll bet,” said Thomas, taking the parcel.

Cassandra awoke from her anesthesia, unsure of what was dream and what was reality. She heard voices, but they seemed to be far away, and she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Finally she realized they were calling her name. She heard them tell her to wake up.

Cassi tried to open her eyes but found that she couldn’t. A sense of panic gripped her, and she attempted to sit up only to be immediately restrained.

“Easy now, everything is okay,” said a voice by her side.

But everything wasn’t okay. Cassi could not see. What had happened? Suddenly she remembered the anesthesia and the operation. “My God! I’m blind!” shouted Cassi, trying to touch her face. Someone grabbed her hands.

“Easy now. You have patches on your eyes.”

“Why patches?” Cassi yelled.

“Just to keep your eyes quiet,” said the voice calmly. “They’ll only be on for a day or so. Your operation went smoothly. Your doctor said you are a lucky woman. He coagulated a troublesome vessel, but he doesn’t want it to bleed again, so you must stay quiet.”

Cassi felt a little less anxious, but the darkness was frightening. “Let me see, just for a moment,” Cassi pleaded.

“I can’t do that. Doctor’s orders. We’re not supposed to touch your bandages. But I can shine a light directly at you. I’m sure you’ll see that. Okay?”

“Yes,” said Cassi, eager for any reassurance. Why hadn’t she been warned about this before the operation? She felt as if she had been cast adrift.

“I’m back,” said the voice. Cassi heard a click and saw the light immediately. What’s more, she perceived it equally with both eyes. “I can see it,” she said excitedly.

“Of course you can,” said the voice. “You’re doing fine. Do you have any pain?”

“No,” said Cassi. The light was switched off.

“Then just relax. We’ll be right here if you want us. Just call.”

As Cassie let herself relax, she listened to the various nurses as they moved about their patients. She realized she was in the recovery room and wondered if Thomas would come down to see her.

Thomas finished seeing his office patients early. By 2:10 he had just one appointment left at 2:30. While he waited he checked the OR to see which attending was on call that night for the thoracic service. Learning it was Dr. Burgess, Thomas gave him a call.

Thomas explained that he was planning to sleep in the hospital anyway to be near Cassi and suggested he take call as well. Dr. Burgess could pay back the favor when the Kingsleys were away.

Thomas hung up and, seeing he still had fifteen minutes to spare, decided to visit Cassi. She had just been brought up to her room, and Thomas could not tell if she was asleep or not. She was lying quietly, her face covered with bulky eye patches secured with heavy elasticized tape. An IV dripped slowly into her left arm.

Thomas went silently to the side of her bed.

“Cassi?” he whispered. “Are you awake?”

“I am,” said Cassi. “Is that you, Thomas?”

Thomas grasped Cassi’s arm. “How do you feel, honey?”