Perfect Match, page 26
Rachel said, “Right now we’ve got two teams removing and two transplanting. They’re scheduled to finish up about six tonight, but it looks like they’re both going to do a back-to-back. That’s probably going to push them to ten or eleven tonight, unless they finish up early.” She studied the schedules. “The hospital has two teams in reserve.” She logged off and wheeled around to Roscoe and Trevor. “Cobalt is a busy hospital. Patients fly in from all over.”
“Who are the best surgeons?”
“They’re all highly rated, but Roscoe that doesn’t matter at this point. If you’ve made a decision you’re still going to have to have a session with the transplant office, and then everything has to be handed off to the transplant coordinator.”
“Rachel, that’s not going to work for me or Selena.”
“This is a major decision. There are protocols and procedures that we have to follow. You just can’t go shoving your weight around. It won’t work.” She threw both hands up and let them slap against her thighs.
Roscoe knew he’d better be respectful. He took a deep breath. “In my past life I abused and badgered people. I’m not going to mistreat anyone. But I do know the value of brinksmanship and split-timing decision-making. It tends to speed things along, even breaking through a bureaucracy. I promise you I will be very respectful of everyone from here on. I’m just going to present people with some important opportunities. They get to decide.”
He paused. “When was the last time Selena had anything to eat or drink?”
She looked at him, with a shake of her head. “She had a good breakfast…nothing but juice for lunch. Since she’s in sedated “twilight territory” she’ll miss supper, but she has her IV.” She studied him. “So that’s why you had a light lunch? You are one calculating cuss, but I have to admit you’ve got the optimism.”
“Trevor can you print me a copy of your report, and how would a doctor confirm your data?
“I’ll print you a copy at the nurse’s desk in two minutes. Umm…the surgical team, mainly the surgeon, is going to need to double check everything. My lab work will need to be verified, but that should be a breeze. The critical thing is going to be my compatibility data. On this copy there are no names, yours or Selena’s. On the copy I give you full identification will be part of the print out, patient ID, account and room number, names…everything.”
He pulled another flash drive from his pocket. “Everything is on this. So the doctor will know or can verify that the data is legit. Rachel, you’re safe, but my cover will be blown, because they’ll know I violated network security and accessed unauthorized records, Selena’s, but at this point, I don’t care. If you’re in this race with a kidney, I’m in it with my reputation and job.” His voice cracked. “I can’t thank you enough for giving a kidney to the most special girl I’ve ever met.”
He left the room in a sprint.
Rachel had taken a seat in the chair. “I can’t believe all this is happening. Lord help us all.”
Roscoe sat on the edge of his bed facing her. “Rachel, I don’t want you to worry about this. I believe everything is going to work out okay.”
Her brow furrowed. “Aren’t you worried, afraid? This is not you. Where did all this come from? Just a few weeks ago you were the most cynical patient I’ve ever seen.”
“I don’t know. I just know I’m driven by something that has never been inside me before. I don’t know. I don’t have an answer. Afraid? No. I haven’t even thought about any of that. I simply want to see Selena live a normal life. For some reason that makes me happy, just thinking about it.” A smile crept across his face.
Trevor was back in a snap.
Roscoe said, “I sent you an email earlier. Open it and the two of you scan the list to see if I have the correct addresses of the transplant doctors.”
Trevor was already on task, checking his email. “Rachel, do you spot any errors in this list?”
“I can compare it on the master list in the computer.”
After the three had checked through everything that Roscoe had concerns about, he said, “I thank both of you for everything you’ve done. Without your help this would not be happening.”
Rachel harrumphed, “Well, I’m still not sure what exactly is going to happen?”
“For the next few hours, I’m going to lounge on this lumpy hospital bed, check a few things on my Tablet, and then the night is going to get awfully busy.” He smiled. “Try to get some rest. I’ll keep you posted.”
The building vibrated with the rumbling thunderstorm moving in on Asheville.
Chapter Thirty-Five
8:55 p.m., Tuesday, Asheville
8:55 a.m., Wednesday, Hong Kong
The Antelope Taxi snaked its way up the winding drive of Cobalt Medical Center. Rain whip-lashed across the city. Ned Stringer eased up to the passenger drop-off and pick-up. He put his emergency blinkers on, pulled his cap down, and scurried up the covered sidewalk, and into the main entrance. Sitting off to his right was his favorite passenger, Roscoe Fallington.
Ned started yapping right away. “Hey, man, what’s the big deal. We’re too late for a Starbucks. They’re closed.”
Roscoe folded the newspaper he’d been hiding behind for the past fifteen minutes. He stood. “Thought it’d be a good night for some fresh air.”
“You are totally nuts, man. That thunderstorm is vicious.”
Roscoe laughed. “Well, let’s go for a ride anyway.”
After they got in the cab, Ned pulled away from the curb. His wipers were fighting a losing battle with the rain. “Where to my friend? Ain’t nothing much open with all this rain.”
Roscoe handed a piece of paper to Ned. “I need to go to this address. Ever been in that neck of the woods?”
“Yeah, that’s out there in that section where a bunch of doctors live.” Ned looked at his passenger. “Not being nosey or anything, but you just left the hospital that’s crawling with doctors. Don’t they suit you?”
Roscoe laughed. “You should work for the FBI or CIA. You really dig for information.”
Ned sat a little taller at the compliment. “I’m just curious, that’s all.”
Traffic was light, the storm having driven most people for cover. Ned blinked his lights between dim and bright, as he tried to navigate through the sheets of gusting rain. He made his final turn down Flannery Lane, a street with perfectly landscaped houses positioned in clusters of hardwoods and ornamentals. Hearty spring flowers and bushes lining driveways and properties relished the pouring rain.
“Right here, pull in right here up the circular drive.”
Ned eased the cab up the long drive. “I still don’t understand you making a house call to a doctor. I thought doctors were the ones who made house calls.”
Roscoe chuckled, “Well, I’ve learned the world operates upside down these days. I’ll need you to wait for me.” Before getting out he pulled a twenty-dollar bill from his billfold. “Hang on to this.”
Ned looked at him. “You’re not going to tear it in half?”
“Not this time. I trust you.” Roscoe was out and dashing for the front door of 4100 Flannery Lane.
He pushed the doorbell, and heard the complicated chimes echoing in the cavernous two-story brick home.
Inside, fifty-year old Dr. Sam Hertford moaned, “Who in the hell is ringing the doorbell in this raging storm?”
His forty-five year old wife of two years sighed, “There’s always some kind of interruption. We never have time for ourselves.” She stared blankly at the meal she had prepared. The candle light danced through the glasses of freshly poured wine.
Dr. Hertford cautiously walked toward the front door, snapping on a cluster of outside security lights, before peering through the privacy curtains at the drenched six-foot tall dark figure looking toward the door. Still cautious, he opened the thick front door a few inches, with his foot bracing the backside. Through the glass door he said, “What do you want? Who are you?”
Another gust of rain swooshed against the glass door. “I’m Roscoe Fallington. I need your help.” He held up his hospital ID bracelet against the glass.
“What’s wrong with you? What’s your problem?” Hertford was growing more suspicious by the minute.
“Nothing’s wrong with me, but my friend needs help.”
Hertford looked over Roscoe’s shoulder at the idling cab.
“That’s my ride. You can call the number on the side of the car and verify that I’m a legitimate passenger.”
Hertford’s wife was now standing by his side, trying to close her outer negligee over her skimpy nightwear underneath.
“I’m sorry. This is not making sense to me. I don’t see a friend, and I don’t know you. I see a shabby taxi waiting to make…make a fast getaway or something. Sorry, I can’t help you. Goodnight.” Hertford started closing the door.
Roscoe spoke up, his face showing desperation. “At least take a look at my paper work. It’ll explain everything.” He edged a corner of the folded sheets between the glass door and the molding. “I’ll step away from the door, with my back to you. I’m not here to harm you or your family.” He walked to the edge of the small porch and got blasted with a gusting wall of water. He heard the glass door unlock, and then lock again. He thought, welcome to modern healthcare. He turned back closer to the door.
Hertford was scanning the donor-recipient data that Trevor had prepared. He released a whistle of air.
His wife was holding his arm but glancing nervously at Roscoe, waiting. “What is it, Honey? What are those papers?”
“Unbelievable, that’s what.” He unlocked the glass door, pushing it open. “Step inside out of the rain. Uh…just stand on the mat there for a minute.”
“Thanks.” Rain dripped from him, forming a widening dark spot around his shoes.
The wife spoke. “Would you like a towel or something?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Hertford looked up from the papers. “Where did this data come from?” His voice had an edge.
Roscoe nodded at the report. “It should be self-explanatory. The testing was done at my request. Full names, everything, and the person generating the report, Trevor Howard, are fully disclosed. No mystery there.”
“Mr. Fallington, I don’t think you understand the major problem here. All of this…whatever you’re trying to pull off here has violated every principle of Cobalt Medical Center. Who authorized this?”
“No one. I decided it needed to be done to see if I could donate one of my kidneys to a special friend. I’m a perfect match and I’d like you to assemble the transplant teams and make it happen before the sun dawns on a new day. But I want to keep everything anonymous regarding me as the donor.” He paused a moment. “In my research, I learned you are the best surgeon for the task at hand.”
The wife squeezed her husband’s arm and gave him a smile, and then nodded at Roscoe.
Hertford thought a moment, and then handed the papers back to Roscoe. “Yeah, I’ll bet you do want to remain anonymous in the middle of this little firestorm. I’m sorry Mr. Fallington. I can’t get involved in this kind of wild idea of yours. We have a protocol at Cobalt that works and delivers the best healthcare possible. You’ve done nothing to follow our time-tested procedures. I’m sure there’ll be some kind of investigation over this and heads will roll, but mine will not be one of them.”
He paused a moment.
The wife looked back and forth at her husband and Roscoe.
“Anyway, I’ve been in surgery most of the day, and I was about to enjoy a rare evening with my wife, Elise, until you showed up and ruined it. I’m not even on call, so I wouldn’t be involved even if this was a legitimate surgical case.”
Elise asked, “Are you Edna Fallington’s grandson?”
“Yes, one of them. I’m the bad one, the hell-raiser. Rodney is the good son.”
“My mother plays poker with Edna.” She smiled, looked at her husband.
“Okay, enough small talk. Mr. Fallington, if you feel like pursuing this…this idea of yours, you need to contact our transplant department first thing in the morning and get on board with the correct procedures.” He moved to swing the door wider. “I believe your taxi is still waiting for you.” He cleared his throat.
Roscoe took a step toward the door and then turned back to the doctor and his wife. “When Selena dies in a few days, I’ll make sure you get an invitation to her funeral. Of course I’ll be there with both healthy kidneys. I’ll also be inviting the hospital administrator, along with Cobalt’s board of directors…oh, and the full media will be there. NPR will probably have a field day with the report you’ve just rejected. They’ll probably want to give you some air time to hear all about your tidy and proper procedures. Listeners and viewers love stuff like that. I’ve got a long list of dignitaries that’ll get invited. Ought to be a real block party. Well, you folks enjoy your evening. Sorry to have bothered you.”
Hertford snarled, face hardened, “I do not bend to blackmail or cheap-shot emotions. I’m a man of principle, a hardened piece of surgical steel.”
“Glad to hear that. There’s nothing as warm and cozy, and dense as a cold piece of steel.” He glanced at Elise. “Have a warm evening.”
Roscoe stepped out into the rain, walking slowly back to the cab.
Elise watched him walk away. She glanced back at her husband, back at Roscoe. She pushed by her husband, darting down the rain-slicked walk.
Her husband yelled after her, “Elise, have you lost your mind?”
She caught Roscoe’s arm and wheeled him around. She grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling at him, saying over the pouring rain, “You can’t leave. You can’t walk away. He’ll do what you need. I know him. He’ll do it. Come back.” She tugged him toward the house.
“Let me send the cab away.”
He opened the door. “I’m going to be staying with them. I’ll catch up with you in a couple of days.”
Ned had silently watched the drama unfold at the door and on the sidewalk and had come to his own conclusions. Doctor screaming his head off, woman half dressed, and crazy-assed passenger, Rocky, right in the middle. “Let me get this straight. You leave the comfort of the hospital so you can shack up with the doctor and his wife. Sounds like an interesting three-some to me. Must be another version of ‘free love.’ You are one crazy passenger, Rocky.”
“It’s not what you think, Ned. Trust me on this one. I’ll give you the details in a couple weeks at Starbucks.”
“That’s the first sensible thing I’ve heard.” Ned shook his head.
Roscoe chuckled. “I look forward to us working together soon.” He closed the door, as Ned was opening his mouth.
“Well I’ve done some bat-shit crazy things, but working for Rocky ain’t going to be one of them.”
The cab coasted down the drive buffeted by the wild wind.
Elise and Roscoe stepped inside the over-size foyer, dripping wet. Sam stared in disbelief. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing Elise?”
Her night clothes clung to her shapely body. Her breasts were firm and outlined by the wet fabric. A dark patch was visible at the V of her thighs. She reached for her husband’s arm. “Sam, listen to me for a moment. I don’t usually say much, but I’m aware that I put a lot of pressure on you about the limited time we have. I always want more time with you, but for the first time, tonight, I saw a little of what faces you each day. I guess I didn’t realize how close the death and life issues are in the work you do.”
She paused a moment to take another breath.
“I don’t know everything about the rules of a major healthcare facility. I’m sure the protocol is there for good reasons, but something tells me there is a good reason to do this transplant and save this young woman’s life. What good are rules if they stand in the way of what’s possible?” She looked nervously at Roscoe and back at her husband.
“What about tonight? It’s the first night we’ve had in weeks.” He looked longingly at her pleading eyes.
“I know. I’ve been looking forward to tonight, but you know something? We have time. We’ll find the time, but Selena will have no time. I don’t even know who she is, but if Roscoe is willing to donate a healthy kidney, I’ll give up my time with you tonight for Selena.”
She paused.
“I’ll even throw in a bonus for you, Sam. Do what you do best with this transplant, and I’ll give you wildfire crazy nights that you’ll never forget.” She stood looking up at her husband, rain still dripping off her face, and tears welling up in her eyes.
Roscoe looked at the doctor, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t know about you doc, but I wouldn’t even need a medical degree to figure out that proposition from your beautiful wife.”
The doctor’s facial expression softened as he hugged his wife. “Your understanding is like gold. I love you, Elise.”
“I know you do, Sam, and I love you more.”
Roscoe realized he was witnessing a kind of intimacy that he’d observed very little of through the years. The tenderness reached deep inside him. Maybe I can learn from this.
The doctor straightened up, with a determined sigh. “Let me see your paperwork again. I’ll need to get some calls going.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, placing his earpiece in one ear.
Elise said, “Did you have any wine? I’ll start a strong pot of coffee for you.”
The doctor shook his head. “Didn’t get to taste it, but the coffee sounds good. Roscoe, you can’t have any. I’ll have plenty of potions for you when we get to the hospital.”
Elise started coffee, and then dashed off to their bedroom, stripping wet clothing as she went. She returned shortly in jeans and sweatshirt, with heavy towels for Roscoe, while her husband was on the phone. The storm was playing havoc with the phone signals.
“Amy, this is Sam Hertford. I need you to pull a couple of records, load them into my file at my station in the surgeon’s room. Go ahead and have the radiologist do an emergency re-check, with a summary for me. This is an ASAP. Kidney transplant, two surgical teams. We’re really squeezing the clock on this one, so I anticipate beginning surgery in an hour or so.
