Rawhide Down_ The Near Assassination of Ronald Reagan - Del Quentin Wilber [71]
By the time the surgical team had assembled, the crowd of doctors, nurses, and agents was so large that some of those present couldn’t see the patient through the throng. The room quickly became quite warm, and the noise level rose as several conversations occurred at once and equipment was prepared for the surgery.
Gently, doctors transferred the president from the gurney to the operating table. A nurse squeezed Reagan’s hand. Manfred “Dutch” Lichtman, an anesthesiologist, leaned down and said, “We’re going to be putting you to sleep now.”
“How are you going to put me to sleep if I can hardly breathe now?” Reagan asked. The tone of his question was almost academic, as if he were trying to figure out the mechanics of how he’d be able to breathe once he was put to sleep.
Lichtman assured the president that he would have no difficulty breathing during the operation and then prepared to administer the anesthetics.
As if responding to a cue, the president rose up on one elbow and dramatically pulled the oxygen mask from his face. Salvaging a line that had fallen flat in the emergency room earlier, he said, “I hope you are all Republicans.”
Nervous chuckles quickly became laughter; the tension in the room evaporated. Standing near the foot of the operating table was Joe Giordano, who happened to be a die-hard liberal. “Today, Mr. President,” Giordano said, “we are all Republicans.”
An ophthalmologist was summoned to pluck out Reagan’s contact lenses. He found one in the president’s right eye and removed it by hand. He saw nothing in the left eye. Perhaps Reagan had not replaced it after his speech; it might also have popped out when the president was pushed into the limousine, or it might have been removed in the ER.
An anesthesiologist injected drugs into an IV line and within seconds Reagan was unconscious. Lichtman began the intubation process, which would make it possible for a machine to breathe for the president. First, he pressed his thumb and forefingers on a small ring of cartilage near Reagan’s Adam’s apple to close off the esophagus; this prevents vomit from getting into the windpipe and lungs, an important precaution because the president had just eaten lunch. Next, another anesthesiologist, George Morales, inserted a breathing tube into the president’s throat and slipped it into his trachea. A small balloon was inflated at the tip of the tube, sealing it into place. Using bags, anesthesiologists began pumping air into Reagan’s lungs; as surgery progressed, a machine could also be used to supply air.
For a moment, silence filled the room.
It was just after 3:08 p.m.
* * *
AN HOUR EARLIER, Richard Allen, the national security advisor, had been taking a rare midday swim at the University Club, an exclusive athletic facility near the Soviet embassy. As he completed his twentieth lap, his military driver, Joe Bullock, tapped him on the head and said he was needed at the White House because “something terrible has happened.” Allen bolted from the pool and was still buttoning his shirt when he dashed out the club’s doors.
When Allen’s driver pulled into the White House grounds just after 2:50 p.m., he nearly collided with the sedan ferrying Jim Baker and Ed Meese to the hospital. Inside, Allen’s first stop was the office of the chief of staff, where he witnessed Al Haig’s futile attempt to talk with the vice president on Air Force Two. Then the two men and a number of other Reagan aides headed for the Situation Room, where they could consult in a secure setting.
Located on the ground floor of the West Wing, the Situation Room was in fact a group of offices