"We need four units of Type O in OR Two, stat."
"Right." Foster replaced the receiver and went to the corner where the new blood had been deposited. He pulled out four bags and placed them on the top shelf of the metal cart used for such emergencies. He double-checked the bags. "Type O," he said aloud. He rang for an orderly.
"What's going on?" Andrea asked.
Foster looked at the schedule in front of him. "It looks like one of the patients is giving Dr. Radnor a bad time."
9:10 A.M. The orderly came into the blood bank. "What have we got?"
"Take this to OR Two. They're waiting for it."
He watched the orderly wheel out the cart, then turned to Andrea. "Tell me about your sister."
"She's married, too."
"Aw . . ."
Andrea smiled. "But she fools around."
"Does she really?"
"I'm only kidding. I have to go back to work, Eric. Thanks for the coffee and danish."
'' Anytime." He watched her leave and thought, What a great ass!
9:12 A.M. The orderly was waiting for an elevator to take him to the second floor.
9:13 A.M. Dr. Radnor was doing his best to minimize the catastrophe. "Where's the damned blood?"
9:15 A.M. The orderly pushed at the door to OR Two and the circulating nurse opened it.
"Thanks," she said. She carried the bags into the room. "It's here, doctor."
"Start pumping it into him. Fast!"
In the blood bank, Eric Foster finished his coffee, thinking about Andrea. All the good-looking ones are married.
As he started toward his desk, he passed the fax machine. He pulled out the fax. It read:
Recall Warning Alert #687, June 25: Red Blood Cells, Fresh Frozen Plasma. Units CB83711, CB800007. Community Blood Bank of California, Arizona, Washington, Oregon. Blood products testing repeatedly reactive for Antibody HIV Type I were distributed.
He stared at it a moment, then walked over to his desk and picked up the invoice he had signed for the bags of blood that had just been delivered. He looked at the number on the invoice. The number on the warning was identical.
"Oh, my God!" he said. He grabbed the telephone. "Get me OR Two, fast!"
A nurse answered.
"This is the blood bank. I just sent up four units of Type O. Don't use it! I'm sending up some fresh blood immediately." The nurse said, "Sorry, it's too late."
Dr. Radnor broke the news to Sean Reilly.
"It was a mistake," Radnor said. "A terrible mistake. I would give anything if it had not happened."
Sean was staring at him, in shock. "My God! I'm going to die."
"We won't know whether you're HIV-positive for six or eight weeks. And even if you are, that does not necessarily mean you will get AIDS. We're going to do everything we can for you."
"What the hell can you do for me that you haven't already done?" Sean said bitterly. "I'm a dead man."
When Honey heard the news, she was devastated. She remembered Frances Gordon's words. The poor man.
Sean Reilly was asleep when Honey walked into his room. She sat at his bedside for a long time, watching him.
He opened his eyes and saw Honey. "I dreamed that I was dreaming, and that I wasn't going to die." "Sean ..."
"Did you come to visit the corpse?" "Please don't talk that way." "How could this happen?" he cried. "Someone made a mistake, Sean." "God, I don't want to die of AIDS!"
"Some people who get HIV may never get AIDS. The Irish are lucky."
"I wish I could believe you."
She took his hand in hers. "You've got to."
"I'm not a praying man," Sean said, "but I sure as hell am going to start now."
"I'll pray with you," Honey said.
He smiled wryly. "I guess we can forget about that dinner, huh?"
"Oh, no. You don't get out of it that easily. I'm looking forward to it."
He studied her a moment. "You really mean that, don't you?"
"You bet I do! No matter what happens. Remember, you promised to take me to Ireland."
Chapter Thirty-three
Are you all right, Ken?" Lauren asked. "You seem tense, darling." They were alone in the huge Harrison library. A maid and a butler had served a six-course dinner, and during dinner he and Alex Harrison—Call me Alex— had chatted about Mallory's brilliant future. "Why are you tense?"
Because this pregnant black bitch expects me to marry her. Because any minute word is going to leak out about our engagement and she'll hear about it and blow the whistle. Because my whole future could be destroyed.
He took Lauren's hand in his. "I guess I'm working too hard. My patients aren't just patients to me, Lauren. They're people in trouble, and I can't help worrying about them."
She stroked his face. "That's one of the things I love about you, Ken. You're so caring."
"I guess I was brought up that way."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you. The society editor of the Chronicle and a photographer are coming here Monday to do an interview."
It was like a blow to the pit of his stomach. "
"Is there any chance you could be here with me, darling? They want a picture of you."
"I. . . I wish I could, but I have a busy day scheduled at the hospital." His mind was racing. "Lauren, do you think it's a good idea to do an interview now? I mean, shouldn't we wait until . . . ?"
Lauren laughed. "You don't know the press, darling. They're like bloodhounds. No, it's much better to get it over with now."