Comfort Zone

Chapter 31

But she didn't stay dead. Her statements solidified Miriam's right to call a code and established her right to call the cardiologist for a more permanent solution. In true Hollywood fashion, the code team was nearby, and came in seconds. CPR had already been started by Miriam and the interns. An external, transcutaneous temporary pacemaker was placed, heart rate restored and Lilly Fielding joined the living once again.

Pissed as hell because she was going to have one big bruise on her chest that would definitely show up with the low cut gown she planned to wear at her next charity ball.

The cardiologist also showed up immediately.

"So she woke up? I thought she didn't want anything done," he said.

"Let's just say she had a change in heart," Miriam said. Dr. Fosse put her in the soonest OR slot for permanent pacemaker implantation, while Miriam hugged Edna, the interns, and everyone else within reach.

Score one for the ethics committee.

There was no time to rest on her laurels. Miriam had to rush off to see a patient admitted for diarrhea and dehydration. Miriam put in the orders, but paused when she got to the "deep vein thrombosis prophylaxis" section, the reminder to order a blood thinner to prevent blood clots while the patient was bedridden and prone to them. Blood clots were dangerous and could be fatal. Miriam remembered that the patient had recently bled from a stomach ulcer, and putting him on a blood thinner could kick off this problem again. That could be fatal, too.

A colleague sat down next to her at the adjoining computer and she saw with relief it was Dan Weiner, her favorite gastroenterologist. He would know the right answer. She presented it to him briefly.

He stood up and stretched. "Don't obsess about it," he said. "If you order the blood thinner and he bleeds you're an idiot. If you don't order it and he gets a clot you're an idiot. It's a very easy decision because whatever you do you're an idiot." He grinned, patted her on the shoulder and left her staring at the order input screen.

"I need more morphine!" she heard a patient shouting nearby. Miriam looked up from the screen but couldn't remember if it was the same patient who'd complained of pain days before. "I didn't feel a thing from the last shot. What did you give me, a placebo? Water? Think I don't know the difference?"

Miriam heard soothing voices but saw the nurses look at each other. No words were necessary. Another drug seeking patient, their faces said.

"We've been trying to discharge him for days," Samantha said softly, sitting down next to Miriam, "but maybe he is in pain. I certainly hope this isn't another case of missing narcotics!"

Miriam stared at Samantha. "On the other hand," she said slowly, "if the hospital is still dealing with watered down medicine, that could mean JK is innocent."

Samantha smiled and nodded before going back to work, leaving Miriam alone with the thought: Maybe he's innocent, maybe I can help prove it.

She got up and walked to the medication room, and couldn't resist swiping in, remembering the syringe she'd seen the last time. Nothing looked amiss, but in truth, she had no idea what she was looking for. Some detective I am, watching too many shows.

After the failed detective work she went on to Ms. Abernathy, the patient with bronchitis. The smoker.

Miriam bumped into the patient's lung specialist in the hall. "She's in a foul mood," he said, snapping off his gloves and throwing them in the trash can. "Maybe it's nicotine withdrawal although you did order a patch. Better put on your full body armor or offer her a cigarette in case she tries to bite your head off like she did mine! Other than needing an attitude adjustment, she's doing fine. I'm tapering the steroids and she'll be ready for discharge in a day or so, should Dr. Engels call you."