An Open Heart A Novel by Harry Kraus

Author:Harry Kraus
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Medical Suspense, Africa, Suspense, Kenya, Heart Surgery
ISBN: 9780781405355
Publisher: David C. Cook
Published: 2013-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

24

Jace fell into a fitful sleep after midnight, rousing at six when the ibis squawked a proclamation of the dawn.

He drank Kenya AA coffee prepared in a press and wondered how he’d survived in America without it. He showered, dressed, and hurried to the ICU. It was Saturday, and the team was supposed to join the minister of health for lunch in Nairobi, but Jace wanted to check on his post-op valve patient and be sure everything was stable before he left.

Jace found his patient, Joseph Ole Kosoi, awake and with a familiar face of terror.

Jace winced.

Just like Beatrice.

He told himself it was just the patient’s unfamiliarity with his high-tech surroundings. If you were used to sleeping in a mud hut, the environment of the high dependency unit at Kijabe Hospital would certainly be a scary place. With the lights, monitors, electronic alarms, and physical restraints, who wouldn’t wake up afraid?

Jace studied the numbers. Blood pressure, check. Ins and outs, check. Central venous pressure, check. Ventilatory mechanics, check. It was time to remove Joseph’s endotracheal tube and let him fly on his own.

He looked at the monitor. “He’s a bit tachycardic,” Jace said, referring to his fast heart rate. “When is the last time he had pain medicine?”

The nurse, a young Kikuyu woman named Dorcas, responded. “He has not received pain medication.”

He frowned. “Nothing?”

The nurse checked his bedside chart. “He is Maasai.”

“Maasai have pain.”

“But they never want pain medication.”

“That’s crazy. Maasai have pain like everyone else.”

“This young man was circumcised without anesthesia and would not dare to whimper or show pain.”

“Look at his heart rate. I think he is having pain.”

“Look at his face. I do not think it is pain driving up his heart rate.”

Jace inhaled. In spite of all Joseph had been through, including a Betadine chest scrub in preparation for surgery, the distinct scent of charcoal lingered.

After the nurse prepared an oxygen mask, Jace told Joseph, “I’m going to take this tube out of your throat.” He removed the tape holding the tube in place. He pulled the air out of the balloon with a syringe. “Now cough!”

Joseph obeyed and Jace pulled out the tube.

“Rest, Joseph,” he said as he pulled an oxygen facemask over his nose.

His patient struggled to talk, his eyes locked onto Jace’s.

Jace sighed and leaned in close to his patient. “Okay, what is it?”

“Your patient, Anthony Kimathi.”

He thought through his patient list. He didn’t know anyone named Kimathi. “What about him?”

“He’s going to die.”

“Rest, Joseph,” Jace said as the heart-rate alarm sounded. One hundred twenty. “Relax. I’ll look into it.” He put his hand on the young man’s shoulder. He’d get the details when Joseph was stronger. “We’ll talk more later.”

Jace took a step away from the bedside and pulled a white index card from his pocket. On it he’d written the names of all the patients he’d seen. Not one Anthony and no Kimathis.

He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, unsure how to react. He hadn’t come to Kenya to deal with weird messages from the next life.

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