by Suzi Weinert
Jennifer paused on the sidewalk. Her police detective son-in-law had warned their family that bystanders and gawkers often interfered with police emergency work. But if her good friends had a problem, shouldn’t she offer help? She raced across the Donnegans’ yard to their front door.
Speaking to the first uniformed man she saw inside the doorway, she said, “I’m the Donnegans’ neighbor and good friend from across the street. May I…?”
The fire fighter hesitated, but Tony saw her and called, “Jennifer, thank God you’re here. Come in quick.” She rushed to his side and he gripped her in a desperate hug. “It’s Kirsten. She can’t breathe.” Jennifer’s eyes followed his pointing finger to her friend lying on the floor. Kirsten’s face looked ashen as several medics tried to revive her. One attached a heart monitor and took her blood pressure. Another listened to her lungs before starting an IV. Each reported aloud to a third man who stood aside, writing on a clipboard and giving periodic instructions.
Tony clutched Jennifer as the lead medic asked, “Sir, have you a list of her medications?” Tony’s bewildered expression showed he did not.
Jennifer answered. “Yes, in her wallet. She and I each keep a list there. Where’s her purse?”
Tony shrugged. He seemed confused. “I…I have no idea.”
“Then I’ll look.” Jennifer found the purse in the kitchen, hurried to the living room and gave it to Tony. He fumbled inside before handing it back to her.
“Jen, could you please find it for them?” he asked in a thin voice. He turned to answer more questions from the lead medic.
“Please describe her symptoms.”
“She felt tired the last few days and today woke up weak. When she finally came down for breakfast, she looked pale and said she felt clammy and cold. So I bundled her up here on the couch. When her chest hurt and she couldn’t breathe, I…” his voice caught, “I called 911.”
“Has she a history of heart trouble?”
“High blood pressure but controlled with medication. Isn’t it on the list Jen gave you?”
A medic kneeling beside Kirsten said to the lead provider. “Uh-oh, she’s going into V-fib.”
“Start CPR,” the lead medic directed, triggering a flurry of treatment activity. The one who identified ventricular fibrillation began CPR. A second medic applied two hand-sized stickers with wires attached to the heart monitor and injected epinephrine. “Prepare to shock.”
“Step away from the patient,” the lead medic warned. “The electric current could transfer the same cardiac shock to anyone touching the patient.”
Tony clutched Jennifer as the shock jolted his wife’s heart. The monitor recorded several audible beeps before the sound changed to an even tone.
“Asystole?” the lead medic asked and got a positive nod from the other techs. The lead radioed Dispatch. “This is now a CPR call. We’re going to Fairfax ER.”
One technician continued administering CPR, stopping compressions for only a few seconds as they placed Kirsten on the collapsible stretcher.
Tony cried out, “Is she going to be all right?”
The lead medic touched his arm to calm him. “The hospital is equipped for the care she needs right now, so we’re taking her there.”
“Can I ride with her?”
“Sorry, Sir, we don’t have room. But we’ll give your wife our best professional care, and Fairfax Hospital’s ER is the only level-one trauma center in northern Virginia. She’ll be in good hands.”
“I can drive you to the emergency room, Tony,” Jennifer offered.
This quieted him as did the apparent reassurance of Jennifer holding his hand tightly. “All right.”
“By the way, I’m Lt. Sommer. A captain who’s the EMS Supervisor may come by later to talk with you or he may send a policeman to gather all the facts.”
Tony frowned, “Why…why police involvement?”
“Just routine, Sir. Don’t be surprised if you see one or both of them.”
Jennifer hurried across the circle to get her car as Tony watched the crew wheel the stretcher to the ambulance and collect their equipment. She stopped behind the ambulance. Tony climbed in.
The ambulance pulled out first, lights flashing, siren shrieking. The fire truck’s powerful motor revved to life, preparing to return to the McLean station house. Jennifer followed closely as the ambulance swept through the neighborhood, but when it hurtled through a red light at the first intersection, she knew she couldn’t keep up. Though she drove in the same direction as fast as she safely could, the shrill siren gradually faded and evaporated as if it hadn’t existed at all.
3
Thursday, 10:31 AM
In the Middle-East, before his arduous journey began, Ahmed remembered looking up sharply when a skinny, rifle-toting soldier rushed into his tent.
“The Great Leader wants you, now.” Such commands required instant response. Anxiety gripped Ahmed as he grabbed his weapon and hurried to the big tent. Little good could come from this.
“Permission to enter, Great Leader?”
“Come in, Ahmed.”
Complying, he stepped in upon the worn Persian carpet and stood at attention before a tall, thin bearded man with steely eyes.
“At ease, Ahmed,” the leader said as the soldier before him tried to imagine what rule he’d unintentionally broken. “How would you like to command a secret operation in the United States?
Ahmed hoped his jaw hadn’t dropped open in surprise. “It is an honor that you even consider me for such a mission, Great Leader.”
“Your excellent martial skills, quick mind, unquestioned devotion to our cause and obedient submission to Allah, peace be unto His name, have not gone unnoticed. I think these qualities qualify you as the operative for this critical assignment. I chose you among others similarly adept because of my faith in your abilities plus your allegiance to me personally. Don’t disappoint me.”
“I offer my energy and my life to you and our cause, Great Leader.”
“Well spoken, Ahmed. Facilitators along your journey will move you from this camp to a destination in the United States where you will lead a cell of men in an explosive event to terrorize the Great Satan’s world. You and those other men will sacrifice your bodies, but your martyred names will touch all Muslim lips and assure your direct path into Paradise.”
“I thank you and my ancestors thank you for this great honor to our humble name.”
“Besides my detailed instructions, you must prepare to improvise if rocks block your intended plans. You’ve demonstrated ability to invent new solutions while keeping your eye on the goal, leading us to believe you can handle this situation, however it unfolds. Life doesn’t always follow our plans and, in the end, the only one truly in charge of what happens is Allah, bless His name.
“As always, Great Leader, you speak truth and wisdom.”
“Good. Now here’s what you will do…”
4
Thursday, 10:41 AM
As the fire/rescue ambulance sped toward INOVA Fairfax Hospital, lead medic Lt. Nathan Sommer watched his team take turns administering CPR to an unresponsive Kirsten Donnegan. The EKG attached to her emitted a flat green line. Sommer knew bringing a patient back from this stage was next to impossible. He counted on CPR coaxing enough oxygenated blood to her brain to keep her alive until the hospital ER could attempt to restart her heart.
“Heads up,” the driver announced; “five minutes out. You might want to call the ER.”
“Thanks.” Sommer dialed the hospital ER on his cell phone. The five-out call gave ER staff three time-saving pieces of information: treatment thus far given by EMS, update of the patient’s current condition and their imminent arrival at the hospital.
When the ambulance raced up to the hospital’s emergency entrance, Sommer jumped out to accompany Kirsten as other professionals arrived to rush her gurney inside. While the rest of his team stayed in their vehicle parked close by, he wouldn’t give up, pumping her
chest as the gurney rolled until ER personnel took over.
Inside the hospital he watched the Code Team take over and leap into action: intubation, IV drugs and continued CPR. A smile crossed Sommer’s face when he heard the heart monitor begin to beep. The beeps rallied, sounding as if she’d make it. But then the steady beeps straggled unevenly and soon evolved into a monotone buzz. This dreaded sound, indicating flat-line pulmonary activity, launched more frantic measures to activate her heart…but without success.
At last, the attending physician stood back. He sighed, dejected at losing this battle. “Note the time of death,” he said to a nurse in a barely audible exhale.
Sommer stood transfixed. Despite their training, modern equipment and his team’s heroic efforts, their patient was gone. He knew they weren’t to blame, but it always hurt and he was a poor loser.
He thought about what had transpired in this case. EMS never left a dying or newly deceased person at the incident location, in this case, Kirsten’s house. They transported the patient to the nearest hospital ER. Important reasons justified this. They saved their share, but when they didn’t, this action spared the family the traumatic moment of death. Also hospital staff could make the patient presentable before the family came to grieve. On-call grief counselors could assist, if needed.
But there was more. The ER doctor’s staff could call the patient’s personal physician to determine whether a death appeared natural. If so, the patient’s doctor signed the death certificate. If not, they requested autopsy. For heart attacks absent heart-disease history, as in today’s case, the radio dispatch Sommer made earlier to his headquarters would alert the EMS supervisor to consider sending a policeman to interview the family and neighbors.
As lead medic, Sommer felt responsibility for the outcome because he ran the calls. His years of experience and refresher training enabled him to quickly evaluate the big picture in each situation. He directed the unfolding second-to-second patient emergency, giving calm orders to the other techs. Every emergency call needed one person in charge to coordinate the team. His job: make quick but correct decisions, coordinate efficiency and move fast. Time was never on his side. He needed to stay hands-off to direct the call and record developments. For Sommer, letting other techs do the work was the hardest part. If the run was shorthanded, he relished the occasional chance to pitch in hands-on to save a life.
Sommer walked out of the ER toward the ambulance. He hated telling his crew their patient died. Sure, on the drive back to the station they would critique what took place. They always did, searching for insights from this experience to improve the next run. Today’s by-the-book performance delivered their patient to the ER alive, suggesting a job well done. But as seen-it-all surgeons sometimes phrased it, “The operation was a success but the patient died.”
He tried—his whole team tried—to leave disappointment at work when they went home. But the job rolled on… The sheer urgency of attempting to save lives during the next five calls would overshadow the memory of this loss and reset their resolve until the next successful rescue rebalanced the scale.
5
Thursday, 10:57 AM
Jennifer comforted Tony at the hospital when they learned Kirsten’s fate. Surprised that he seemed to handle this devastating situation better than she could, she dried her tears to phone Jason, explain the situation and ask him to meet them there. When he arrived at the ER, he found the two of them sitting, shoulders hunched, in a hospital room where Kirsten’s body lay in a bed next to their chairs. Jason put a sympathetic hand on Tony’s shoulder.
“She’s gone, Jay…”
“We’re here to help any way we can. Have you told your children?”
“Not yet….”
“Do you want us to drive you home where you can do that?”
“I guess that makes sense,” Tony agreed.
“Jen, shall we both drive Tony home in my car and come back later for yours?”
“Absolutely.”
Ten minutes later Jason drove while Jennifer sat with Tony in the back seat. She caressed his hand to comfort him and lend him her strength. Though silent, he seemed grateful. Tears dampened his face as he gave her what seemed grief-stricken looks but, except for a few ragged sighs, he controlled his emotions and squeezed her hand.
Jason noticed Adam Iverson’s unmarked police car in front of Donnegans’ house.
“That’s right,” Tony recalled, “the lieutenant said a supervisor or policeman might come by. Glad it’s your son-in-law Adam.”
“Hello, Sir.” Adam shook Tony’s hand. “I’m very sorry to hear about your loss.”
“Thank you, Adam. When Kirsten and I attended your wedding a few months ago, I didn’t imagine I’d see you next under these bizarre circumstances.”
“Right, Sir. I know this timing isn’t good, but could we talk for a few minutes about what happened so I can fill out a report?”
Tony frowned, contemplating him a long minute before deciding. “Sure, Adam. Come on inside. Your parents and I were about to call my kids. This won’t take long, will it?”
“No, Sir, it won’t,” Adam assured as the two of them walked toward the Donnegan house.
Jason called after them, “Tony, when you finish, let us know if we can help.”
When the Shannons entered their house, Jennifer hurried to answer the ringing phone.
“Hi, Mom. It’s Hannah.”
“Hello, Honey. What a nice surprise to hear from the little bride. Everything okay?”
“Oh, yes. Everything’s wonderful. Sorry not to call oftener, but Adam and I are still so wrapped up in each other we haven’t made much time for the other people we love.”
“Not to worry. We all understand. But I’m afraid we have some bad news. Kirsten Donnegan collapsed and died this morning. We just saw Adam, who’s across the street for a police report.”
“Oh, Mom, I’ve known her since I was little. What a blow for their whole family. Was she sick?”
“No, very sudden and unexpected.”
“Well, I wonder if you and I could have lunch today. Are you up for that, given the situation? We could talk and you could fill me in about what happened to Mrs. D.”
“Hang on a minute, Hannah.” she turned to Jason. “Could you take the afternoon to help Tony but drop me at the restaurant beforehand so Hannah can take me by the hospital later to get my car?” He nodded. “Okay, lunch sounds great. How about Pulcinella at 12:30 if you don’t mind dropping me by Fairfax Hospital afterward to pick up my car?”
“Glad to, Mom, and you picked a favorite restaurant. Just like old times. See you there.”
“I’ll make a reservation in case they’re extra busy today. Love you, Sweetie.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
Jennifer glanced at her watch. If she hurried she could dress quickly, meet her daughter on time, get her car and multi-task several errands afterward, including buying ingredients for the casserole dinner.
6
Thursday, noon
When Jason returned from dropping Jennifer at Pulcinella, Adam knocked on the Shannons’ door.
Jason invited him in. “Are you still on duty or would you like a beer?”
“I’m still on but thanks anyway. Post-rescue follow-up isn’t my usual job, but I was headed this way anyhow and know the family so I volunteered. If you have a minute, could I ask you the same questions I did the other neighbors.”
“Sure, Adam, but what’s this all about anyhow?”
“In cases like this, we try to rule out foul play while the deceased is still at the hospital—whether the death looked suspicious in some way. So, how long have you known the Donnegans?”
Jason did the math. “About twenty-one years.”
“And during that time did you witness friction or violence between them?”
“Just the opposite. They’re well-liked in the neighborhood and from everything we saw, devoted to their children and each other. He’s also a respected membe
r of the community. You probably know he owns a popular veterinary practice.”
“That matches accounts from other neighbors. My last stop is Mr. Donnegan’s office to talk with his staff. If that checks out, my work here is over.”
“Any progress on developing the Yates property?”
Jason recalled walking some of the fifteen acres of valuable farmland located on the McLean/ Great Falls border, land that Adam had inherited from the Yates estate when he became the only surviving heir. During his first six years of life, when Adam was called Mathis Yates, his parents had abused him and his younger brother, Ruger. Jason understood that Adam’s emotional survival of these horrific childhood experiences required him to totally repress those early years.
“That’s just what I wanted to speak with you about. We have impressive offers from two developers. We’re studying them to make the best choice. Both allow us to subdivide the property but still keep one terrific lot for building our own house.
“Good for you, Adam. Take your time. Choose well.”
“Would you give us your opinion about our finalist? We’ll also ask my other new dad for his input. With so much at stake, we want to pick the best option.”
The “other new dad,” Jason knew, referred to lawyer Greg Bromley. Greg’s youthful romance thirty-five years earlier with Adam’s mother, Wendey, had produced an unwed pregnancy she feared would ruin Greg’s budding law career. To protect him, Wendey had eloped in a loveless marriage with Tobias Yates. She’d discovered too late that her husband was an abusive monster who, for years, terrorized her and the two hapless children.
“Of course, we’ll share our knowledge and experience,” Jason assured him. “I can look at your project as an engineer and Greg can as an attorney.”
Adam smiled in gratitude at his new father-in-law. “Thanks, Sir…er, Dad.”
“You’re welcome, Son.”
After farewells, Adam left.
I like that young man, Jason thought. He and Hannah make a fine young couple even though each brings some baggage to their relationship. Hannah needs to trust men again after ex-boyfriend Kevin broke her heart with his cheating, and Adam must face his awful childhood trauma if and when it surfaces.