Walking Through Walls (19 page)

With this cue, Christina promptly forgot her English and started waving her manicured hands in the air while talking rapid-fire Spanish. I had never heard Christina speak this quickly before. She always spoke perfectly articulated Spanish, as if she were the queen of Spain. Now no one understood a word of what she was saying. The guards gave her the same “Are you crazy or what?” look they had given my father. Her performance made the scene even more surreal. By the end of her monologue, Christina finally got with the program and began singing
“Dios mio!”
operatically at the top of her lungs. She threw herself on top of her mother, screaming and waving her hands as they wheeled her toward the OR. Despite the heavy security presence, this mini sit-in, perhaps the first ever staged at a Miami hospital, worked brilliantly. Dr. Siegel was called from surgery for a powwow with my father, the nutcase.

“Mr. Smith, you are interfering with this woman's surgery and critical care. How did they even let you into my hospital? I've never seen behavior like this before. Do you understand what you are doing? Your behavior is criminal. Are you aware of the serious nature of this matter? You must be out of your mind.” The doctor stood about six-three and glared down at my father with an imperious air. Calmly and with authority, my father explained to Dr. Siegel that Mrs. Cortez had an impaction, not cancer, and that the operation was not necessary.

“How do you know this? Who told you this?”

“I get my information cosmically by tuning in to Mrs. Cortez's body.”

“You what? From where?” Dr. Siegel stared at my father with visible contempt.

Calmly, my father began to explain the mysteries of the universe to Dr. Siegel. “Everything in the universe vibrates at a certain rate. By using these vibrations, I was able to tune in to Mrs. Cortez's body and find that she does not have cancer. I could not find cancer anywhere in her body.”

Dr. Siegel assumed that tone that certain doctors assume when they want to dismiss ignorant mortals. “And when did you perform this exploratory surgery? We have no record of this diagnosis.”

“I used my pendulum just about an hour ago and found there was no cancer. She has an impaction, which can be easily eliminated by some citrate of magnesium. If you don't mind me asking, Doctor, how did
you
determine the diagnosis of cancer?”

Dr. Siegel cleared his throat before he answered. “Well, we, uh…we saw a shadow on the X-ray.”

“A shadow? You're cutting her open based on a shadow? And you think
I'm
nuts?”

“Well, once we perform the exploratory surgery, we'll know better. What am I doing even talking to you? You're not even a doctor!” With sheer annoyance, Dr. Siegel dismissed my father's metaphysical diagnosis. “There is no blockage. This woman has cancer, and her life is at stake unless we operate. Why am I even wasting my time talking to you?” The doctor turned abruptly and started to walk away.

“Are you sure?” This simple question stopped the doctor in his tracks. “What if she doesn't have cancer? What if you open her up, take out her colon, put her on a colostomy bag for the rest of her life, and you made a mistake? Isn't it worth postponing the surgery for just one day?” My father smiled at the doctor.

“There is no need to postpone surgery. It must be done. Are you questioning my diagnosis?”

“No, not at all. I am providing you with more accurate information than a shadow on an X-ray.”

“You think that you can tell me that Mrs. Cortez does not have cancer psychically? Perhaps it is you who should be hospitalized—over at Jackson Memorial, in the psych ward.” Dr. Siegel was practically spitting his words at my father.

At this point Christina began screaming while clutching her mother, “No! No! No!
Mi madre
is coming home. Mister Smith promised me. She comes home.” All of Christina's expensive makeup was running down her face. This was a nice dramatic touch that really increased her credibility. It was as if she had been rehearsing her whole life for this moment. If she had wanted a second career as an actress on the Spanish
telenovelas,
this would have been her showstopping audition.

While Christina continued to cry, a nurse came over and whispered something in Dr. Siegel's ear. He then turned to my father and said, “You know what, I'll put Mrs. Cortez back in her room. We will reevaluate the case. But if in the meantime she dies, we will have you arrested for manslaughter. And I'm not kidding.”

“That is fantastic. Thank you, Doctor.” My father was beaming. He had prevented an unnecessary operation and saved Mrs. Cortez from painful and potentially life-threatening surgery.

All of us went back to Mrs. Cortez's room for a few minutes. Christina bent over and kissed her mother, who was still under anesthesia and oblivious to the current crisis. She then said a little prayer in Spanish and crossed herself when she was finished. We left the hospital confident that everything was going to be okay.

By the time we reached the parking lot, the orderlies had secretly wheeled Mrs. Cortez back into the operating room, and the surgery began. The doctor had cleverly placated my father. When the doctor opened her up, they found no cancer but instead an impaction in the colon, exactly as my father had diagnosed. Since they already had her open, they proceeded to remove a large portion of her colon as a “precaution” and closed her back up. Those were the days when doctors had no accountability, and malpractice suits were rarely, if ever, filed.

The next morning Christina came into the office again in tears. My father was surprised and expected her to be overjoyed. Just like the day before, my father asked, “Christina, what's wrong? Tell me.”

“
Mi madre.
They make another operation, and now she has no stomach.”

“
What?
But I thought—” My father immediately picked up the phone and called the hospital. “Dr. Siegel, please…he's in surgery? Please have him call Lew Smith. Yes, Plaza 8-7552. Yes, oh yes, he'll know who I am.”

What my father didn't know and didn't bother to check was that Dr. Siegel was at that moment back in surgery operating on Mrs. Cortez
again
. Overnight her colon had become infected, and the infection was spreading through her body. They now opened her up to remove even more of her colon. My father turned to Christina, who was still crying, and said, “We'll take care of this. I'll find out what's going on.”

With that, my father took out his pendulum and began watching it spin in response to his questions. It was making large counterclockwise circles. After about a minute, he looked up and said to no one in particular, “Something is really wrong.” His eyes darted around the room as if he were searching for an answer. He looked back down to the pendulum and watched it spin again. This time it spun to the right in ever widening circles. Pop closed his eyes. His lips started moving. About a minute later, he opened his eyes and said to Christina, “This is very strange. I think they are operating again on your mother, and I'm not sure why. Nothing was wrong with her to begin with. I'm getting that she has an infection. I don't quite understand this. Why would she have an infection when all she has is an impacted colon?” Pop had it correct; it's just that his logic was getting in the way of the information that was coming through.

My father picked up the phone and called the hospital again. Dr. Siegel was still in surgery. “Christina, let's go over to the hospital and find out what's going on.” All of us got in the car and drove back to the hospital. When we got there, Christina's mother was in Intensive Care, and my father asked the nurse at the front desk to page Dr. Siegel. They waited about a half hour, and still no doctor. My father went back to the nurses' station and explained the urgency of speaking with Dr. Siegel.

“I'm sorry, but Dr. Siegel is not available. I've put the page in and let him know that you are waiting to speak with him. I believe he is still in surgery.”

“We need to know the status of Mrs. Cortez and why she was operated on again. There was no need for any of this.”

The nurse stopped listening and answered the phone. “Fourth floor ICU…”

The day passed. Finally, around three in the afternoon, I spotted Dr. Siegel coming down the hall, speaking with several other doctors. I nudged my father, who got up and started walking toward him. The doctor saw my father and kept walking.

Pop ran after him. “Dr. Siegel, it is important that I speak with you.” There was no way that the doctor did not hear my father, but he picked up his pace and tried to avoid him. My father caught up to him and said, “I need to know what has happened with Mrs. Cortez.”

“You're asking me? I thought you were psychic and had all the answers; why don't you look it up with that magic pendulum of yours?” With that, the doctor began to walk away.

“I do know what happened, and I already consulted my pendulum. I know exactly what is going on.”

“Okay, genius, you tell me, since I'm only the doctor.”

“It's very simple. You made a mistake, a terrible mistake. You performed unnecessary surgery on Mrs. Cortez. You didn't want to listen to me because you think you know better. As a result, you took out half her colon when you didn't have to, and now she'll have problems the rest of her life. Plus, a serious infection set in, causing you to go back in. There was no cancer, just like I told you. And now it's too late. There's nothing you can do. But Mrs. Cortez was the sacrificial lamb to your big overblown ego.”

At first the doctor blanched, his eyes opening wider and wider. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Apparently no one had ever spoken to him like this. Pointing his finger right between my father's eyes, the doctor tried to control himself as he said, “You, my friend, are deranged and psychotic. How dare you speak to me this way! I saved Mrs. Cortez's life. Had I listened to you, she would have been dead. Do you hear me? I saved her life. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have people that need me.” The doctor spun on his heels and headed down the corridor.

My father walked back to Christina, who looked at him with the face of a broken person. “I am so sorry. I did everything I could,” he said. “Your mother should not have been operated on. It wasn't necessary. They lied to me. But she'll be okay.” Christina held my father's hand and cried quietly. I looked away.

As soon as we got to the office the next morning, my father called the hospital to check on Mrs. Cortez's condition. She was still in Intensive Care. My father asked to speak with Dr. Siegel. Once again, he was in surgery. He asked the nurse why Mrs. Cortez was still in the ICU; she should have been in her room recovering. “Well, she's recovering from surgery.”

“But that was yesterday.”

“No, she had surgery last night.”

“I think you have someone else's chart. I want to know about Mrs. Cortez. Mrs. Sonia Cortez. She had surgery yesterday.”

“Sir, I
am
looking at the chart. It says she had surgery last night.”

“That's impossible. There was no reason for this.”

“You need to call Dr. Siegel's office; I'm sure they can tell you more.”
Click.

Pop called the doctor's office and asked the receptionist to speak with the doctor. The receptionist gave her standard answer: “I'm sorry, Dr. Siegel is in surgery today. He can return your call this evening. Who's calling, please?”

“I'm calling about Mrs. Cortez. The hospital just told me she was operated on last night, and we did not know about this. I need to know what is going on.”

“Are you her husband?”

“No, I'm a friend.”

“I'm sorry, but I can't release any information except to family members.”

“Her daughter is standing next to me but does not speak English.” My father motioned for Christina to come stand next to him.

“Well, I can't give you any information.”

“Let me put her daughter on the phone. You talk to her in English, and I'll listen in on the extension.” Pop covered the receiver and said, “Christina, pick up the phone on the other desk and say hello.”

Warily, as if in a Hitchcock movie, Christina lifted the phone and shook her hair out of the way before she put it to her ear. “Hello?”

“This is Dr. Siegel's secretary, Amanda. Are you Mrs. Cortez's daughter?”

“Yes…”

“Well, Dr. Siegel is in surgery, and I will tell him to call you later this evening and let you know what is going on. Thank you. Bye.”

Before my father could intervene, Amanda hung up. Christina looked at my father, waiting for her next cue. With great resignation in his voice, he said, “We need to go to the hospital, but first let me see what I can find out.”

My father grabbed his ruler and pulled out the pendulum from his shirt pocket. With the pendulum in his right hand, he slowly moved it up the ruler. His hand stopped at the five-inch mark, and the pendulum swung in a clockwise direction. He wrote down something on a pad, then pulled out a copy of
Gray's Anatomy
. In his left hand, he pointed with the straightened paper clip to the various organs in the body. He looked over at the pendulum, which again swung clockwise. Finally he pulled out a list of medical conditions, which he scanned with the paper clip. The whole process took about three minutes. He looked up at Christina and said, “Your mother has peritonitis.” Christina's eyes widened in fear. “When the surgeons operated again, they made more mistakes, and your mother's abdominal cavity became infected. This is terrible. It's too late to do anything. None of this should have happened.”