All of this flashed through my miserable mind as I sat slumped there in agony. The pain kept increasing, even as Marilyn ran back in, trailed by a pair of Secret Service agents. I knew these guys got all sorts of medical and first aid training, and they took a look and one guy started muttering into his sleeve. About thirty seconds later the night shift doctor and nurse came running in with a 'crash cart', everything needed to revive me.
Doctor Rhodes asked, "How are you doing, Mister President?"
"I've been better.", I told him. What was I going to say, that I had already diagnosed myself?
"What's wrong?"
"I have got a lot of pain, in my back, up between my shoulders, and I feel pretty hot, and have been sweating and nauseous. I mean, it sounded like those warning signs, you know, like we used to teach the kids in the Boy Scouts.", I answered lamely.
I knew what was going to happen next. It had happened to me before, and these guys don't fuck around with the President's health. "That's pretty smart thinking, Mister President. Let's take a look. Let's get your shirt off."
I awkwardly peeled off my undershirt, and then lay back on the bed. Marilyn was off to the side holding Stormy by the collar, and the agents were hovering over me. A few more came through into the bedroom also, along with a stretcher. Meanwhile, Doctor Rhodes and the nurse hooked me up to a portable EKG machine, and examined it for a few minutes. Meanwhile, the pain just kept increasing.
"Well, good news, your heart is just fine. Whatever is causing this, it isn't your heart.", he told me.
"Well, can you give me something for the pain then?"
"In a bit. I think we are going to want to run a few tests, though."
Oh, crap. There was no way to avoid it, and I didn't even want to try. "Like?"
"Maybe an MRI, an ultrasound, the stuff we can't do here. I think we're taking you over to George Washington University Hospital. Maybe we can do something about the pain there."He motioned to the others, and about thirty seconds later I was loaded onto a stretcher, wrapped in a sheet and blanket, and rumbling out of the room. One of the agents was holding onto Stormy while Marilyn scampered along, still in her robe.
I looked over at my wife, and told her, "I'll be fine. I'll be back in the morning. Go back to bed."
"Have you lost your mind!? I'm getting dressed and coming with you!"
"Ma'am, we need to go now. You should get dressed and have one of the agents bring you over.", interjected Rhodes.
"Okay." Marilyn bent over and kissed me, and then I was on the elevator, heading downstairs.
Well, that was a fun ride. We didn't have the sirens going in the middle of the night, but we did have the lights flashing on the whole fucking caravan, and about five minutes later I was being trundled into an exam room. The best part was that the White House is manned 24-7 by reporters with cameras pointed at every conceivable exit. This whole episode was going out live on the news channels right now. In the morning, the stock market was going to take a dive!
Marilyn showed up about ten minutes later, dressed and accompanied by a pair of Secret Service agents. "How are you feeling?", she asked.
"Like crap, if you must know. How bad are the reporters?", I asked.
"I didn't see anybody. Why?"
I snorted, and that hurt, too. "I just came roaring over from the White House with everything except sirens. You watch. They'll be pronouncing me dead by dawn. John McCain is warming up in the bullpen by now!"
"It won't be that bad, Mister President. Come on, let's get you to the MRI.", said, Doctor Rhodes.
Off we went, first to an MRI machine, and then to an ultrasound. Everybody looked at my heart first, and I simply told them to get pictures; my family was of the opinion I didn't have one. I got a few dutiful laughs over that one. Finally they decided I could have something for the pain, and a hypodermic went into the IV line that had been already run, and the pressure magically began to drop.
My mind was going over my past history. I knew that part of the improvement in my condition was simply that the stone was passing and the attack was ending. An attack would last anywhere from two-and-a-half to three hours, unpleasant all, and leave me beat and wiped out. I was starting to slide down the end slope now. One particularly bad evening I had two stones pass in a row, and I went through it for six hours. The best I could hope for then was a few old Tylenols with codeine from the back of somebody's medicine cabinet, and opiates mostly make me nauseous as hell.
If you ever have the chance to use the health care available to a President, take advantage of it. On the other hand, if you are the President, you don't get an option. I wasn't going home to go to bed. "Mister President, whatever happened seems to be passing. We still don't have an answer for what happened, so we would like to run a few tests in the morning. We are going to have you stay overnight."
I sighed and nodded. "All right. I suppose somebody ought to let the Vice President know, before he hears about it on the news in the morning."
Doctor Rhodes smiled and looked over at the agent in the corner. He spoke up and said, "The Vice President has already been informed, sir."
"Figures." I looked over at Marilyn. "You'd better get in touch with the kids, so they don't learn about it the same way."
Marilyn glanced over at the agent, who nodded. She said, "Don't worry. Let's get you up to your room."
I was too tired to argue. I slept until about 4:00 AM, at which point I was woken up so they could take my temperature and blood pressure, and then I crashed again for another four hours. When I woke up a second time, Marilyn was sitting there next to me. "How you doing?", she asked.
"Peachy! I'm in a hospital!"
"You can behave! You had me scared last night!"
I grimaced and shrugged. "Sorry. You knew it wasn't my heart. You've told me often enough I don't have one."
"It's not that funny when you're in a hospital!", she protested. "The girls called when their agents told them. So did Charlie."
"Did you tell them the inheritance is on hold for a little longer?", I asked.
"Well, Charlie did ask about your recliner, but I told him he had to wait."
"Little bastard! I'm not even cold yet!", I protested.
"They'll be over later on.", she replied with a smile. "They were properly nervous and worried. They're good kids." She nodded her head towards the door. "There's some people here to see you. I told them you needed to take it easy."
"Figures. Let 'em in. Do me a favor and call Suzie. She's probably heard about this too."
"She can fly down from the Mayo Clinic to tell you what is wrong."
I snorted and laughed. "That's what happens when your sister is a nurse."
Marilyn stood and gave me a quick kiss, and then opened the door to let in Josh Bolten and Ari Fleischer. No way was I going to be allowed to escape the job. I waved at them and said, "Hi, guys!"
"How bad is it, Mister President?", asked Josh.
"I'll be fine, guys. Tell the Vice President he can head back to the bullpen, I'm going to make it.", I answered, smiling.
"What happened?"
I gave them a brief rundown, but right now nobody knew. I was scheduled for some more tests today.
"I'll need to make a statement, sir. The networks have been running footage of you leaving the White House, and somebody managed to confirm that you are here.", said Ari.
I sighed and nodded. "Yeah. Listen, get together with one of the doctors and write something up. My heart is just fine. The President is resting comfortably and undergoing further testing. My family knows what is going on. Blah, blah, blah. Hell, tell them the Democrats are right, and that I really am heartless!"