He did not put it in his pocket. He left it.
They sat at the table in the suite’s living room and ate room service. Nobody made much conversation. Erik had reached a strange mental tipping point where he went utterly numb, nearly on the verge of indifference. He found himself thinking about basketball. Big game tonight. With Magic Johnson retired and Doc Rivers flopping, could the Lakers beat the Clippers and will themselves into the playoffs? Erik glanced over at the television. It was turned on to the news, with the sound muted. Would it be heartless of him to switch to the game? Probably.
He felt oddly and inappropriately bored.
The phone rang.
“I can’t get up,” Francine said, sighing. “I’m so tired.”
As if her words were a signal, Erik felt leaden then. Bed beckoned enticingly. His head longed for a pile of pillows with smooth, freshly-laundered cases. His mouth actually watered at the thought of lying down.
Stooped and stiff, Joe trudged to the phone and answered.
“Eat, darling,” Francine said to Lucky. “Just a little more.”
Lucky picked up her grilled cheese and took a grudging bite.
Joe turned around, speaking in French, his voice raised in alarm. The lethargy of the room split apart with a crackle. Francine stood up.
“What?” Erik said.
David had gone pale. “I think they’re taking her back into surgery.”
Erik jumped up, bumping the table with his knee, making plates rattle and glasses slosh. “Joe, what happened?”
Joe hung up the phone and looked at Lucky. “Reperfusion,” he said, as if accusing her of a crime.
Lucky shook her head, eyes wide. “I don’t know what that is,” she said wildly. “I’m sorry, I don’t know.”
Erik ran into the bedroom to grab his sneakers and jacket. About to dash out again, he stopped and looked at the penny. It lay on the bedside table where he had left it, orange and sinister under the lamplight. It glared at him.
It didn’t like to be left.
He put it in his pocket and followed the Biancos back to the hospital. There they learned reperfusion is when blood supply returns to tissue after a period of oxygen deprivation. Instead of restoring normal function, it brings on inflammation and cell damage. Dangerous pressure begins to build up.
“Marguerite began to shows signs of distress and complain of severe pain in her lower leg,” said Dr. Jinani. “Despite the morphine drip.”
They were in the family waiting area of the ICU, a smaller room within the unit.
“We soon lost the distal pulses and took her immediately back into surgery. I feared she was developing acute compartment syndrome.”
“Which means?” Francine said. “What is it? Could she die?”
“No, Mrs. Bianco. She is out of danger but it was a serious emergency situation. In essence, her body was not rejecting the graft itself, but the oxygen the graft was bringing. We had to immediately relieve the pressure building up in the compartment of the leg—hence the name of the condition—or else blood would stop reaching her lower leg. And the tissue would begin to die. Then she could lose the limb.”
“How did you stop it?” Joe said. “What did you do to her?”
“Sir, it was necessary to perform a dual fasciotomy. We made incisions on the medial and lateral aspects of the lower leg and removed a small amount of fascia to relieve the pressure.”
“How deep?” Erik said, feeling a little sick as he tried to picture this. “Are you cutting into her muscle? Will she be able to walk?”
“No, the incision is just deep enough to relieve the pressure.”
“And it was successful? It’s working?” Joe asked.
“Yes, sir, the distal pulses have been restored and the limb is warm. She must be closely monitored through this first night.”
“And then what,” Joe said. “You’ll close the wounds tomorrow?”