Read Online Let Him Live by Lurlene McDaniel - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lurlene McDaniel
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ring at two A.M . She realized it would be for her father, and felt a vague sense of foreboding she couldn’t explain. When she heard his footsteps in the hall, she got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs.
“I’m sorry if the phone woke you,” he said, startled by her appearance. “Go back to bed.”
Something in the way he averted his eyes made her ask, “What’s wrong? Is there something wrong with someone I know? With Donovan?”
Her father looked at her fully, hesitated, then said, “That was a call from a hospital in Bethesda, Maryland. I’m driving over there now because they have an accident victim on the verge of brain death, and his blood type is the same as Donovan’s.”
E
leven
“A RE YOU SAYING they’ve found a donor for Donovan?” Meg’s heart began to race in anticipation.
“Don’t jump to that conclusion. All I know is that the victim meets several criteria that
could
make him a match. I’m going over there to be available for organ retrieval, just in case.”
“I want to come with you.” The words jumped from Meg’s throat.
“Meg, that’s not necessary. The family hasn’t even been approached about donating yet, and there would be nothing for you to do but hang around the waiting room.”
She caught his arm. “Please, Dad, let me come along. I-I’ve never asked for anything like this before. Don’t say no. It’s really important to me.”
Her father studied her intently, as if weighinghis medical professionalism and his role as her father. “I need to leave now.”
“Five minutes,” she pleaded. “I can be dressed to go in five minutes.” Her heart hammered as she waited for his reply.
“All right,” he said, jangling the keys in his pocket. “I’ll leave your mother a note. Meet me in the garage.”
Meg spun, ran to her room, tugged on clothes, grabbed her purse, and raced down the stairs. They rode in silence along the Beltway through sparse traffic, toward the Maryland exit. She watched her father pick up his car phone and call Memorial. “I want you to prep Donovan Jacoby for surgery,” she heard him tell an assistant on his transplant team. “Start him on the donor protocol, and I’ll let you know as soon as possible if I’m able to retrieve.”
“Will Donovan know he may get the transplant tonight?” she asked when her father hung up the receiver.
“He’ll know. We’ll do blood work, an EKG, and X rays. Then we’ll start him on antibiotics and antirejection drugs right away.”
“What if he doesn’t get the organ?”
“We have to prepare as if he will. We have to lower his risk for postoperative infection and give him a head start on organ acceptance. As for the other—well, the specter of disappointment, of not getting the new organ, is something all potential transplant recipients have to learn to live with.”
Meg watched the lampposts flash past the car window as her father sped along the expressway. She felt events were hurtling by just as fast. She pictured Donovan’s face as he heard that he might get his new liver. She knew how he longed for the waiting to be over. “I hope this is it for him.”
“I hope so too.”
At the Bethesda hospital, Meg followed her father up stairwells and through a maze of long corridors. He paused in front of a set of double doors marked “Personnel Only Beyond This Point.” He glanced about. “There’ll be a waiting room nearby. Go there and wait for me while I check with the trauma team. The patient’s on life support, but I want to make sure he’s being well oxygenated.”
Meg found her way to a cubbyhole of a room, where six people were gathered together in a small huddle. Their grief hit her like a wall the moment she walked inside the room. She wanted to back out slowly, but realized they had taken no notice of her, so she slunk to a chair. Her palms felt clammy and her mouth dry. She fumbled in her purse for a mint.
“We can’t lose him,” Meg heard a woman
“I’m sorry if the phone woke you,” he said, startled by her appearance. “Go back to bed.”
Something in the way he averted his eyes made her ask, “What’s wrong? Is there something wrong with someone I know? With Donovan?”
Her father looked at her fully, hesitated, then said, “That was a call from a hospital in Bethesda, Maryland. I’m driving over there now because they have an accident victim on the verge of brain death, and his blood type is the same as Donovan’s.”
E
leven
“A RE YOU SAYING they’ve found a donor for Donovan?” Meg’s heart began to race in anticipation.
“Don’t jump to that conclusion. All I know is that the victim meets several criteria that
could
make him a match. I’m going over there to be available for organ retrieval, just in case.”
“I want to come with you.” The words jumped from Meg’s throat.
“Meg, that’s not necessary. The family hasn’t even been approached about donating yet, and there would be nothing for you to do but hang around the waiting room.”
She caught his arm. “Please, Dad, let me come along. I-I’ve never asked for anything like this before. Don’t say no. It’s really important to me.”
Her father studied her intently, as if weighinghis medical professionalism and his role as her father. “I need to leave now.”
“Five minutes,” she pleaded. “I can be dressed to go in five minutes.” Her heart hammered as she waited for his reply.
“All right,” he said, jangling the keys in his pocket. “I’ll leave your mother a note. Meet me in the garage.”
Meg spun, ran to her room, tugged on clothes, grabbed her purse, and raced down the stairs. They rode in silence along the Beltway through sparse traffic, toward the Maryland exit. She watched her father pick up his car phone and call Memorial. “I want you to prep Donovan Jacoby for surgery,” she heard him tell an assistant on his transplant team. “Start him on the donor protocol, and I’ll let you know as soon as possible if I’m able to retrieve.”
“Will Donovan know he may get the transplant tonight?” she asked when her father hung up the receiver.
“He’ll know. We’ll do blood work, an EKG, and X rays. Then we’ll start him on antibiotics and antirejection drugs right away.”
“What if he doesn’t get the organ?”
“We have to prepare as if he will. We have to lower his risk for postoperative infection and give him a head start on organ acceptance. As for the other—well, the specter of disappointment, of not getting the new organ, is something all potential transplant recipients have to learn to live with.”
Meg watched the lampposts flash past the car window as her father sped along the expressway. She felt events were hurtling by just as fast. She pictured Donovan’s face as he heard that he might get his new liver. She knew how he longed for the waiting to be over. “I hope this is it for him.”
“I hope so too.”
At the Bethesda hospital, Meg followed her father up stairwells and through a maze of long corridors. He paused in front of a set of double doors marked “Personnel Only Beyond This Point.” He glanced about. “There’ll be a waiting room nearby. Go there and wait for me while I check with the trauma team. The patient’s on life support, but I want to make sure he’s being well oxygenated.”
Meg found her way to a cubbyhole of a room, where six people were gathered together in a small huddle. Their grief hit her like a wall the moment she walked inside the room. She wanted to back out slowly, but realized they had taken no notice of her, so she slunk to a chair. Her palms felt clammy and her mouth dry. She fumbled in her purse for a mint.
“We can’t lose him,” Meg heard a woman
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