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Emergency

Kevin Statham

    When the paramedics wheeled a patient into the emergency room, Dr. Katz immediately recognized her as Alice, a friend of his daughter. She was the victim of a drug overdose, probably heroin. Quickly he ordered a shot of Narcan and awaited the result but nothing happened. A second dose was injected and the patient squirmed a little but was still unconscious. A third dose was administered and the patient woke up. Dr. Katz breathed deeply with relief. Katz debated whether to tell Alice’s parents. He didn’t want her to be wary of medical personnel in the future, but because this was a life-threatening incident he felt obliged. When Alice had stabilized, Katz talked to her about Narcotics Anonymous. She seemed so innocent. She was still a kid, about fifteen. She agreed she would attend a NA meeting. When Katz told her he was informing her parents she became very frightened. It was as if she was more afraid of her parents’ wrath than an overdose.
    The next day Katz brought up Alice’s overdose to his daughter Trixie. He was especially worried because a month before his wife had found some marijuana in Trixie’s backpack. Trixie said she had not smoked any pot since the discovery. She said she had never tried heroin and certainly never would. She said she did not know what Alice was into. Katz resigned to the fact that he had to believe his daughter, but secretly he did not trust her. He felt powerless.
    The truth was, he felt inept about many aspects of his life. He wanted to mend his ailing marriage, but did not know how. Above all, he wished he could save more ER patients. There was a shooting most every day, but only a fraction of gunshot patients survived. He just couldn’t rescue them.
     Katz was able to eat dinner with his family that night. His job often prevented him from doing so. Once his family would chat over supper and share the things that had happened to them during the day, but now they ate in silence, except for the smacking noises that Katz found annoying. It had been months since Katz had had a meaningful conversation with his wife, Ann. As a CPA she was very busy with work. Often the only person his daughter encountered at dinner was the maid.
    Two young gunshot victims came into the ER the next day. Someone had sprayed a neighborhood street with bullets. Most probably it was gang related. One boy had a wound from a bullet entering and exiting without seriously damaging any internal organs, but the other had more profound injuries. Katz tried to restart his heart with a defibrillator, but to no avail. The boy died before Katz could begin surgery. Katz estimated he was about ten. It made him sick.
    The only uplifting element to Katz’s day was that Candy was working his shift. Katz had a real crush on Candy with her long blonde hair and perfect figure. He didn’t have a chance at her, however. She was dating a musician who was some kind of guitarist in a psychobilly band. Katz had no idea what psychobilly was, but he knew the guitarist was more alluring to a free spirit like Candy than a square doctor. Even so, Candy brightened Katz’s day.
    The computer system at work crashed and was causing problems for everyone. Stuart, the programmer, was called in. He could fix any problem, but came at quite a cost. His fees were exorbitant, but they paid him because it was so necessary. Katz was envious of Stuart because Stuart was smart and made a lot of money, but didn’t have the responsibility Katz had.
    Katz spent his days off playing golf. He wasn’t a great golfer, but it got him out in the fresh air. He generally played with the same guys. They were assholes, but pulled their own weight. One guy was a Trump supporter and Katz found his blind devotion to the President tiresome. Another golf mate was always bragging about his sexual conquests. He was single and picked up women in bars. Katz didn’t know if he disliked him for his lack of morals, or because Katz wished he had affairs himself
    In the ER the next day a boy with a heroin overdose came in. The type of heroin was stamped with the Superman symbol and was causing overdoses because it was laced with Fentanyl. He could have been a classmate of Trixie’s but Katz wasn’t sure. Katz fought and fought, and was able to save the boy. He was not as lucky with a second patient. A fifty year-old man came into the ER with cardiac arrest. Katz tried jolting him with the defibrillator, but the patient kept flat-lining. Katz was particularly interested in this patient because he resembled Katz’s brother. Every twenty minutes or so Katz would be summoned to the same patient’s bedside but the patient ceased to respond to the shocks. As Katz pronounced the man dead he discretely wiped a tear from his eye. The man had probably left some loved ones behind. Katz thought of his brother.
    Trixie was planning to go out with friends that night. Katz brought up Alice, Trixie’s friend who had overdosed.
    “Have you heard anything about Alice?
    “Well, she’s back in school.
    “Is she off that stuff?”
    “I don’t know. I guess she is.”
    “What about your other friends? Are they using that garbage?”
    “Not that I know of, but I can’t speak for them.”
    “You’re not using drugs, are you?”
    “No.”
    “Not even pot?”
    “No. Nothing.”
    “You’re sure”
    “Yes, god, will you let it go? My ride is here. I won’t be late.”
    Trixie stormed out.
    “Good job, Bob,” Ann said. “Do you have to be so prying?”
    “We’re talking about life and death situations. I’m just looking out for her. You know, I miss the days when we would all sit at the dinner table and have a peaceful conversation.”
    “Well, a lot has changed.”
    “Like what?”
    “I don’t know. Just stuff.”
    “Sometimes I just don’t understand you.”
    “Well, I guess that makes both of us.”
    Back at the hospital, Mr. Browning, the hospital administrator, approached Dr. Katz.
    “Bob. Do you have a moment?” Mr. Browning asked.
    “Yeah, sure.”
    “As you may well know, you’re coming upon your fifteenth year anniversary with the hospital. “
    “Yes. I’m aware of that.”
    “Well, we want to show our appreciation, so we would like to have a little ceremony and present you with an award.”
    “Oh, thank you, but that’s not necessary.”
    “Maybe it isn’t necessary, but it is what we want to do.”
    “Please, I’m honored, but I really don’t want an award.”
    “Too late. We’ve already booked the reception room. Everything is set. The celebration starts Thursday at eight.”
    “Still, I don’t...”
    “There’s no choice. We’ll see you Thursday at eight.”
    “Well, thank you. I’ll be there.”
    As Mr. Browning strolled away, Katz felt the blood draining from his head. He thought he would pass out. He didn’t want the award because he felt he didn’t deserve it. He had lost too many patients.
     Ann was nowhere to be found when Katz arrived home. Trixie said her mother was at a PTA meeting. It seemed to Katz that Ann was away from home a lot lately. He wondered if she was having an affair. Could she be cheating on him? He felt like calling to see if there really was a PTA meeting that evening, but decided not to. It really didn’t matter. If she was having an affair, Katz wasn’t too concerned about it.
    A heroin overdose casualty was the first patient the next day. The heroin victim really troubled Katz. He had overdosed on the Superman brand. Katz was not able to save him. Katz came to the realization that he was depressed. He wondered if Stuart, the programmer, ever despaired over his job. Katz was still brooding when his boss asked Katz and Ann out for dinner. Katz really didn’t really want to go and was sure Ann wouldn’t want to go, but he thought he could persuade her. Katz decided to accept the invitation.
    They met at a Japanese restaurant his boss recommended. Katz liked sushi, but Ann ordered the tempura. Over dinner the Mr. Browning took an unusual interest in Ann.
    “So, I understand you run a charity, Ann.”
    “Yes, it’s to help immigrant families stay together. Trump maintains that all immigrants from Mexico are murderers and rapists.”
    “I understand you are also in the PTA.”
    “Yes, that’s true.”
    “I’ll tell you, you and Bob are model citizens. We’re proud to have Bob on our staff. He’s a real hero.”
    At the ER the next day, Trixie’s friend Alice came in with an overdose on Superman. She was not transported by ambulance but was driven by some friends. When she arrived she was not breathing. Katz administered a dose of Narcan, but to no avail. He gave her two more doses, but she still didn’t respond. After a fourth dose, Katz pronounced her dead. Had she come in an ambulance there would have been time for the Narcan to work, but by the time she arrived at the hospital it was too late. There was nothing Katz could do.
    Katz was depressed. Here was a young girl who should have been a cheerleader and going out on dates with boys. Heroin had taken everything from her, including her life. He worried about Trixie. She could be next.
    At his reception, Katz was extremely uncomfortable. He felt undeserving of the praise being doled out to him. As his boss acknowledged his virtues, Katz felt nauseated. He felt like all eyes were on him and quickly downed two glasses of champagne to calm down. The more his boss extolled his merits, Katz felt the blood rush downward from his head. To sum up, his boss declared Katz and his wife assets to the community. Katz sighed. At least it was over.
    Katz awoke with a hangover the next day. He didn’t have to show up at work until two, so he had time to hydrate and take some Advil. Ann was departing for work. Before she left, Katz kissed her on the mouth, something he hadn’t done in a while. Ann stood staring, as if wondering what was wrong. After she left he packed his suitcase and headed for the Holiday Inn. His hotel room was sparse and clean and smelled as if it had just been disinfected. The clerk had asked him how long he would be staying. Katz replied, “Indefinitely.”

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