Dr. Jim Byrne, President of ECMC, was sitting in his office with Agent Jim Jackson, contemplating the phone call he had to make. “Agent Jackson, have you notified your superiors about the situation?”
“Yes, sir, I have, but they are leaving it up to you to contact the President.”
Agent Jackson handed over a slip of paper indicating the telephone number for the White House. Dr. Byrne punched in the number and waited. On the second ring, a woman answered the phone.
“This is the White House. How may I help you?”
“This is Dr. Jim Byrne at the Erie County Medical Center in Buffalo, New York. I have Secret Service Agent Jim Jackson here with me. I need to speak to the President immediately on a very urgent matter.”
“Thank you, Dr. Byrne. Hold on, please.” Two minutes went by and finally the telephone clicked.
“This is President Doyle. Are you there, Dr. Byrne?” “Yes, sir, I am. Thank you for taking my call. Your Secret Service Agent, Mr. Jim Jackson, insisted that I make this call. Sir, I will be brief. We have admitted your son, Kevin, and three of his friends to our facility with the flu-like virus that is spreading across the country.”
The silence that ensued made Dr. Byrne wonder if he had been disconnected. Then suddenly the voice began. “Dr. Byrne, what is the condition of my son?”
“Mr. President, he is presently holding his own, so to speak. He came in with a fever of 104 degrees, but it is now down to 101. He has some congestion, but not as bad as his friend. One of the young men is in very bad condition. I would say he only has a forty percent chance of survival. We now have ten confirmed cases presenting with flu-like virus symptoms in Erie County. Nothing we try does much with this virus. It is a very strong strain and it is either going to wear itself out, or we will have many fatalities.” Dr. Byrne paused before adding, “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”
“No, don’t fret, Dr. Byrne. I understand. Kevin is a tough character. I am confident he will survive this horrible ordeal. I will clear my calendar and fly up there tomorrow. Thank you for calling, Dr. Byrne.”
Sean Doyle hung up the telephone and massaged his temples, feeling a severe headache coming on. I hope my cousin John comes up with something real soon. I cannot bear the thought of losing my son. The intercom brought Sean out of his thoughts. “Yes, Aggie, what is it?” “Mr. President, it’s time for your news conference.