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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locals is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Election Day minus Eleven Days
9:00 A.M. Central Time
“McGee will die any minute.” Doctor Arnie Popano watched the EKG with little hope. “What the hell was he doing, jogging down the street like that?”
“It was a publicity stunt. Politicians do that kind of stuff during the election season. His skull was fractured when his head hit the curb,” Tom Quinn, Chief Executive Officer of the hospital where an ambulance had delivered the dying vice presidential candidate replied.
Dr. Popano glanced at the EKG readout. “What a damn fool stunt for an old man who never took care of himself,” he said with obvious disgust.
“According to the secret service, he was doing ok, only he hit his head when he fell,” Tom Quinn repeated.
Arnie disliked most politicians and seldom disguised his feelings. “A man like Royal McGee should know better. He could have laughed off a fractured skull. But the aneurysm before he fell, that’s what’s going to kill him.”
“His medical history shows that he was heavy even when he was a little kid.
“That’s probably true, but most politicians eat too well when they’re on the road campaigning. A healthy diet to this one meant three helpings of everything instead of four.”
What do we tell the media? He’s considered America’s most popular politician.” “ You said he was brain dead when the paramedics brought him in. What if he lingers?
Arnie had an aversion of hospital bureaucracy that showed with his reply. “Tom, you’re the CEO of this damned place. You will tell them whatever you are told to say.” Arnie studied the line of short spikes on the EKG machine’s screen. “Tough bastard,” he mumbled.
“McGee’s lawyer is on his way here with his signed Health Care Directive,” Quinn said ignoring Arnie’s sarcasm.
“I swore an oath to keep people alive; I can only do so much. When a life is going to end, doctors can prolong death temporarily, but indefinitely should never be allowed—”
“Doctor Popano, sign this order for an x-ray.” A nurse he did not like because of her conservative pro-life religious convictions interrupted him and shoved a clipboard in front of his face. Her querulous attitude made her request a demand.
“A possible skull fracture is not going to kill Royal McGee,” Arnie said, raising his voice. “His lifestyle will be the reason. Anyway,” he continued after a few seconds, “McGee had a fatal aneurism. We can’t keep him alive.”
“God will take him to heaven when it is his time,” Franzen stated in a flat voice. “Your sworn professional duty is to prolong life as long as there is hope.”
Arnie’s hot temper flared. “Nurse Franzen, my professional opinion is that there is no longer a single medical reason to keep this patient alive by artificial means.” He looked her straight in the eyes and said, “Franzen, there is not even the slightest hope that McGee will live more than a day or two.”
A woman wearing a grey pinstriped suit rushed into the small ER room waving a large brown envelope.
Quinn Tom, who looked forward to being the media’s center of attention, reached for it. “It’s McGee’s signed and notarized Advance Health Care Directive,” he said after he ripped open the brown manila envelope and scanned the notarized forms inside. “These papers are in order. Dr. Popano, you are now instructed to end all life support systems for Mr. McGee.”
Arnie Popano hated this part of his job, but he had no choice. Nurse Franzen watched with visible dismay while he removed several tubes that kept his patient alive. He took his time, silently hoping for the miracle that had never yet kept one of patients alive when he knew they were doomed.
Quinn made his way to the door the moment he saw that the life-prolonging equipment was no longer in place. Once out in the hall he hurried to give this news to hundreds of waiting media men and women gathered at his hospital’s front steps. Relishing his moment in the spotlight, he stepped up to their gaggle of microphones to make an announcement that he knew would be viewed and heard around the entire world.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, it is with a heavy heart that I tell you that life support systems have been disconnected, and although Royal McGee is still breathing, the physician in charge told me Mr. McGee will pass within the next forty-eight hours.”