Miracle Cure by Michael Palmer Page A

your heart. You would benefit from bypass surgery as soon as possible. Dr. Jessup will go over the details with you and set up a time. I would suggest if there is an opening in my schedule, that you have the procedure done before you go home. Otherwise, you should be at bed rest until something can be arranged. One of my fellows will be up to see you later today. Good day, Carolyn.”
    “Thanks for coming down,” she said as he was heading out the door.
    Brian went immediately to his father.
    “You okay?” he asked.
    “No surgery,” Jack said.
    “We’ll do our best. But listen, Pop, I don’t want to lose you, and the girls would be devastated. I’ll do my best to protect you from surgery, but whatever it takes, I’m going to recommend, including a repeat bypass. I need your promise that you’ll go along with that. Jack?”
    There was a prolonged silence.
    “I don’t like that guy,” Jack said finally.
    “You don’t have to like him, Jack,” Jessup said. “You just have to believe us that he’s one of the very best in the world at what he does.”
    She motioned Brian across the room and out of Jack’s earshot.
    “Randa’s an absolute boor, I know,” she said. “But trust me, he really is a wizard in the OR. Lately, he’s even more unbearable than usual because of our research. I can’t believe he isn’t feeling very threatened by the Vasclear results we’ve been getting.”
    “If what I’ve been hearing is correct, I understand why. He’d be like a blacksmith watching a Model T Ford rumbling up the road. Dr. Jessup, about putting Jack on Vasclear—”
    The cardiologist shook her head.
    “I’m sorry, Brian. In almost three years of research we haven’t broken protocol once. Not once. The only thing I can promise you is that I’ll mention the situation to Dr. Art Weber, the project director from Newbury Pharmaceuticals. But you know, even if he said yes, which is doubtful, Jack would have to be randomized into the study like every other patient. That gives him only a thirty-three percent chance of getting into the maximum-treatment group and an equal chance of getting placebo.”
    “I understand, but please, do what you can. If we really push, there’s a possibility we could talk Jack into surgery. He’s taken to you like no other doctor he’s ever had. But if we can manage him with medications alone, we really owe it to him to try that.”
    “Well, we might be able to buy some time by juggling his meds. I have a few ideas that might help the situation, especially after seeing his pressures on this cath. And I will speak with Dr. Weber, I promise you that. But I’d have to say that as things stand, surgery is my recommendation.”
    “Okay. I’m not arguing. But I need time to think and to discuss this with Jack. I haven’t seen many patients go through the hell he did after surgery. We nearly lost him.”
    “I know.”
    “Well, thank you. There’s no need for you to wait around here. I’ll stay with my dad until he gets back upstairs.”
    Jessup smiled at him enigmatically.
    “Actually,” she said, “there
is
a reason for me to wait around. Come back into the lab.”
    Brian followed her back into the cath lab, where Jack had been transferred from the table to his gurney.
    “How’re you doing, Pop?”
    “That wasn’t much fun, if that’s what you mean. What was that guy—some sort of Arab?”
    “Indian. He doesn’t have much of a bedside manner.”
    Carolyn Jessup cut in, speaking to the staff.
    “If all of you could repair to the dressing rooms for a couple of minutes, I’d like to speak to these two gentlemen alone. Thank you.” She waited until the doors had closed, then took a plain white envelope out of her pocket and handed it to Jack. “Dr. Pickard, the chief of this hospital, had this brought to me just before I came down here. It was delivered to his office late this morning. He sends his regrets that he can’t be here to do this personally. But I’m glad