Rawhide Down_ The Near Assassination of Ronald Reagan - Del Quentin Wilber [98]
O’Leary was also asked about the president’s arrival at the hospital, but he failed to mention that Reagan had collapsed upon entering the emergency room. “He got out of the car and stood up and walked in on his own,” O’Leary said. “As I say, he was alert and awake all the time.”
When asked whether he found it “extraordinary that a 70-year-old man could be shot in the lung and then brought to the hospital and walk in under his own power,” O’Leary paused and replied: “I think it speaks well for the physiologic health of the president. We do have elderly people—much more elderly than the president is—who do undergo chest surgery, but he certainly sailed through it.”
“Do you find that medically extraordinary?” someone asked.
“Maybe not medically extraordinary,” O’Leary responded, “but just short of that, okay?”
* * *
SITTING AROUND THE conference table in the Situation Room, George Bush and the administration’s top officials watched O’Leary’s performance and felt enormous relief. “This guy is good,” said the vice president.
When the press conference was over, Bush led a discussion about whether he should give a statement. “I think I could,” Bush said. “And just say we are very pleased. I don’t think we need questions, either.”
The meeting adjourned at eight p.m., at which point the vice president and several officials moved upstairs to Bush’s small office, down the hall from Reagan’s. Baker, Meese, and the others clustered around Bush’s desk and talked through a range of issues, from national security to the vice president’s schedule. Just outside the office, one of Bush’s aides attempted to draft a statement for the media. Frazzled, he couldn’t find the words. Ken Khachigian, the president’s chief speechwriter, put a piece of paper in a secretary’s typewriter and quickly produced a brief and confident statement that papered over the day’s trials and problems.
A few minutes later, Bush entered the White House press room and stepped up to the podium.
“I am deeply heartened by Dr. O’Leary’s report on the president’s condition, that he has emerged from this experience with flying colors and with the most optimistic prospects for a complete recovery,” the vice president said. “I can reassure this nation and the watching world that the American government is functioning fully and effectively. We’ve had full and complete communication throughout the day and the officers of the federal government have been fulfilling their obligations with skill and with care.”
Then, having taken no questions, Bush was gone.
* * *
BEFORE HEADING HOME that evening, Joe Giordano, the head of the trauma team, stopped by Reagan’s bedside to check on his patient. He was pleased to see that the president was improving and didn’t seem to have suffered any adverse effects from the surgery or the anesthesia. During the operation, Giordano had thought about how much the outcome mattered—for every doctor in the room, for the hospital, and for the nation. As he stood at the president’s bedside and looked through his chart, Giordano was relieved to reach an unambiguous conclusion: the surgery had gone perfectly.
A little after nine, David Gens—who had spent the past hour and a half removing a patient’s ruptured appendix—sat down next to Reagan. As he had once before, Gens wondered whether anyone had told the president what had happened that day.
“Mr. President, do you remember me from the ER?” Gens asked.
The president nodded.
“Do you know what happened?”
Reagan shook his head.
“Your lung had been torn by the bullet,” Gens said. “And we repaired that. We took out the bullet. But everything is going to be all right.”
Reagan nodded again.
“Mrs. Reagan did fine throughout all the excitement,” Gens said with a grin.
Reagan smiled. Gens could see that the president was doing much better. Even as doctors continued to reduce the proportion of oxygen in his air supply, his color and his blood oxygen levels were