“Can you hear me?” asked Cassi.
“Hello, hello!”
“Can you hear me?” screamed Cassi, her panic returning.
Cassi could hear the person on the other end of the line say something to a colleague. Then the line went dead.
Cassi tried again with the same result. Then she dialed the operator. It was the same maddening problem. She could hear them, but they couldn’t hear her.
Grabbing the second IV bottle in her left hand and carrying the running bottle above her head, Cassi ran on wobbly legs down the corridor to Thomas’s study.
To her horror his phone also wasn’t working. She could hear the other party vainly saying hello, but it was obvious they couldn’t hear her. Bursting into tears, she slammed the phone down and picked up the second IV bottle.
Cassi’s panic mounted as she struggled to descend the stairs without falling. She tried the phones in the living room and kitchen without success.
Fighting against a powerful drowsiness, she ran back through the hall to the foyer. Her keys were on the side table, and she clutched them along with the unused IV bottle. Her first thought was to try to drive to the local hospital, which wasn’t far-ten minutes at most. With the IV running, the insulin reaction seemed to be controlled.
Getting the front door open was an effort that ultimately required Cassi to put down her IV bottle for a moment. Blood backed up into the IV but cleared again when she raised the bottle over her head.
The cold, rainy night seemed to revive her as she ran for the garage. Juggling the IV, she managed to open the car door and slide behind the wheel. Tilting the rearview mirror, Cassi slipped the ring of the IV bottle over it she pushed the key into the ignition.
The engine turned over and over, but it would not start. She took out the key and closed her eyes. She was shivering violently. Why wouldn’t the car start! She tried again with the same result. Looking at the IV she realized the bottle was almost empty. Shaking, she removed the cover, from the second bottle. Even during the few minutes it took to make the exchange she could feel the effect. There was no doubt in her mind that when the glucose ran out, she’d most likely lose consciousness.
She decided her only chance now was Patricia’s phone. Emerging from the garage into the rain, Cassi rounded the building and ran to Patricia’s door. Still holding the IV bottle above her head, she rang the buzzer.
As on her previous visit, Cassi was able to see Patricia descend the stairs. She came slowly, warily peering out into the night. When she recognized Cassi and saw her holding aloft an IV bottle, she quickly fumbled with the door and threw it open.
“My God!” said Patricia, noticing Cassi’s pale, perspiring face. “What happened?”
“Insulin reaction,” managed Cassi. “I have to call an ambulance.”
Patricia’s face registered concern, but seemingly paralyzed with shock, she did not get out of the way. “Why didn’t you call from the main house?”
“I can’t. The phones are out of order. Please.”
Cassi blundered forward, pushing clumsily past Patricia. The movement caught Patricia by surprise and she stumbled back. Cassi didn’t have time to argue. She wanted a phone.
Patricia was incensed. Even if Cassi wasn’t well, she didn’t have to be rude. But Cassi had turned a deaf ear to her mother-in-law’s complaints and was already dialing 911 when Patricia caught up to her in the living room. To Cassi’s relief, this time she could be heard by the emergency operator. As calmly as she could, she gave her name and the address and said she needed an ambulance. The dispatcher assured her that one would be there immediately.
Cassi lowered the receiver with a trembling hand. She looked at Patricia, whose face reflected confusion more than anything else. Exhausted, Cassi sank to the couch. Patricia did the same, and the two women sat quietly until they heard the sirens coming down the drive. The years of unspoken antagonism made communication difficult, but Patricia helped Cassi, who was now nearly unconscious, down the stairs.
As Patricia watched the shrieking ambulance race back across the salt marsh, she had a moment’s real sympathy for her daughter-in-law. Slowly she went back upstairs and called Boston Memorial. She felt her son should try to meet his wife at the local hospital. But Thomas was in surgery. Patricia left word that he should call as soon as possible.
Thomas glanced down at the clock on the instrument panel. It was 12:34 A.M. The charge nurse had given him Patricia’s message the moment he came out of the OR at 11:15. When he’d spoken to his mother she’d been very upset, telling him what had happened. She chided him about having left Cassi alone and urged him to go to the local hospital as fast as he could.
Thomas had called Essex General, but the nurse hadn’t been able to say yet how Cassi was doing. She just told Thomas that she’d been admitted. Thomas didn’t need any urging to hurry. He was desperate to find out Cassi’s condition.
At the red light the block before the hospital, Thomas slowed but did not stop. When he reached the hospital grounds, he turned so sharply the wheels of his car squealed in protest.
The front desk of the hospital was deserted. A small sign said INQUIRIES GO TO EMERGENCY. Thomas sprinted down the hall.
There was a tiny waiting area and a glassed-in nurses’ station. A nurse was having coffee and watching a miniature TV set. Thomas pounded on the glass.
“Can I help you?” she asked with a strong Boston accent.
“I’m looking for my wife,” said Thomas nervously. “She was brought in here by ambulance.”
“Would you mind sitting down for a moment.”
“Is she here?” asked Thomas.
“If you’ll sit down, I’ll get the doctor. I think you’d better talk to him.”
Oh God, thought Thomas as he turned and obediently sat down. He had no idea what was coming. Luckily he didn’t have to wait long. An Oriental man in a crumpled scrub suit appeared, blinking in the bright fluorescent light.
“I’m sorry,” he said, introducing himself as Dr. Chang. “Your wife is no longer with us.”
For a moment Thomas thought the man was telling him Cassi was dead, but then the doctor went on to say Cassi had signed herself out.
“What?” shouted Thomas.
“She was a doctor herself,” apologized Dr. Chang.
“What are you trying to say?” Thomas tried to stifle his fury.
“She arrived suffering from an insulin overdose. We gave her sugar and she stabilized. Then she wanted to leave.”
“And you allowed her to.”
“I didn’t want her to leave,” said Dr. Change. “I advised against it. But she insisted. She checked out against medical advice. I have her signature. I can show you.”
Thomas grabbed the man’s arms. “How could you let her leave! She was in shock. She probably wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“She was lucid and signed a release form. There wasn’t much I could do. She said she wanted to go to the Boston Memorial. I knew she’d get better care there. I’m not a specialist in diabetes.”
“How did she go?” asked Thomas.
“She called a taxi,” said Dr. Chang.
Thomas ran back down the corridor and out through the front door. He had to find her!
Thomas drove recklessly. Luckily there was almost no traffic. After a brief stop at home, he headed back into Boston. When he pulled into the parking garage at the Memorial it was just before 2:00 A.M. He parked and ran into emergency.
In contrast to Essex General, the ER at the Memorial was flooded with patients. Thomas ran straight to the admitting office.
“Your wife hasn’t come into the ER,” one of the clerks told him.
The other clerk punched Cassi’s name into the computer. “She hasn’t been admitted either. It shows she was discharged this morning.”
Thomas felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his abdomen. Where could she be? He had only one other thought. Maybe she’d gone up to Clarkson Two.