John Q Page #3

PUSH IN ON J.Q.'s FACE, panicked. TRACK HIM leaping down the bleachers, knocking over spectators, racing onto the playing field.

J.Q.

Mike! Jesus God.

He lifts Mike's head, holds it in his hands. Denise arrives, hysterical.

DENISE:

Mike?! Mikey, can you hear me?

Mike is semi-conscious, eyes dilated, barely breathing.

JIMMY:

Somebody call an ambulance.

J.Q.

I'm not waiting for an ambulance.

J.Q. lifts Mike into his arms and races with Denise through the crowd towards the parking lot. Denise gets in the pick up and John lays Mike down in her lap before gunning the engine and taking off.

EXT. HIGHWAY - DAY

J.Q.'s pick up speeds along a super highway, blurring past rural pastures, farmland and cornfields. Up ahead, the oppressive skyscrapers of the city.

EXT. HOPE MEMORIAL HOSPITAL - DAY

A monolithic maze of glass and stone. John's truck screeches to a stop at the E.R. entrance.

INT. EMERGENCY ROOM - DAY

It's standing room only. Bodies everywhere. Doctors and nurses move purposefully through the suffering masses. Mike in his arms, J.Q. and Denise run double-time through the crowded corridors.

J.Q.

Help! My son can't breathe! I need help here! Can somebody please...

A male nurse, LEO MAGUIRE, leaves what he's doing and moves towards them. He clutches Mike's wrist, taking his pulse.

MAGUIRE:

What happened?

J.Q.

I don't know. He had a baseball game. All of a sudden he...

Maguire passes a female nurse in the hallway.

MAGUIRE:

I need a doctor right away. Room 6.

INT. RESUSCITATION ROOM - DAY

Maguire helps J.Q. lower Mike onto an examination table, and immediately several emergency technicians start applying the resuscitation equipment. Their movements are swift and precise. A blood pressure cuff is wrapped around Mike's arm, an oxymeter to the tip of his finger, and sensors are stuck all over his chest.

The E.R. doctor is MARJORIE KLEIN, early 30's. Klein is all business, assessing Mike's condition.

MAGUIRE:

Pulse is 150. B.P. 68 over 34. Collapsed playing baseball.

J.Q. notices Maguire glancing worriedly at Klein.

J.Q.

He was running. Next thing we know he keels over.

DR. KLEIN

Anything like this ever happen before?

J.Q.

Never. No, ma'am. Never.

MAGUIRE:

Pulse is seventy-eight percent.

DR. KLEIN

Let's get him on some oxygen.

Maguire reaches for the Oxygen tank, lays the mask over Mike's nose, turns the screw. As Mike inhales the hissing air, Klein turns Mike on his side, probes his lung and lower back areas.

J.Q.

He's going to be alright, isn't he?

DR. KLEIN

The lungs are wet and his liver feels enlarged. Five mil I.V. Digoxin, stat.

Maguire moves to the counter, finds an I.V. needle, fills it with Digoxin.

DENISE:

What's the matter with him?

Just then, another R.N. charges in. Klein "eyes" the nurse who immediately picks up on the look.

R.N.

Mr. and Mrs. Archibald, would you come with me?

J.Q.

What?

R.N.

He's in good hands. Please, there's a few procedures we need to go over.

J.Q.

What kind of procedures?

The R.N. gently takes J.Q.'s elbow. J.Q. pushes her hand away.

R.N.

We're going to be admitting your son, sir. You'll need to fill out the proper forms.

DENISE:

For godsakes, can't the forms wait?

John and Denise watch helplessly as Maguire stabs an I.V. needle into Mike's vein.

R.N.

Please, Mr. and Mrs. Archibald. It's possible your son may need a transfusion. We'll need to test you both for blood types.

The R.N. edges them out as SWOOSH, the divider curtain is pulled shut.

INT. EMERGENCY ROOM - DAY

J.Q. and Denise are escorted by the R.N. to the admitting desk. Arms bent, fists clenched, they're pressing sterilized gauze pads to their inner elbow joints.

ADMITTING NURSE:

First name, Mr. Archibald?

J.Q.

John.

The admitting nurse's fingers glide over the computer keyboard, inputting all vital info.

ADMITTING NURSE:

Middle initial?

J.Q.

Q. Quincy.

ADMITTING NURSE:

And the name of your insurance company?

JIMMY (O.S.)

John!

J.Q. spins and sees Jimmy and Gina rushing through the E.R. doors.

GINA:

Where is he, is he okay?

J.Q.

I don't know. They're running tests. We're waiting to find out.

GINA:

What can we do?

Gina throws her arms around Denise, consoling her.

ADMITTING NURSE:

Your card, Mr. Archibald?

J.Q.

Huh?

ADMITTING NURSE:

Your insurance card. I'll need to make a copy for our files.

J.Q. pulls out his wallet, fumbles for his card, hands it to the admitting nurse. INT. PEDIATRIC I.C.U. - DAY

J.Q. and Denise walk past rows of quiet, glassed-in rooms full of patients and life-support machines. They enter Mike's room to find REGGIE, a twenty-four year old nurse, hooking Mike up to the high monitor above the bed.

Mike is lying supine, awake but groggy, hooked up to a heart monitor, IV drips, hideous plastic tubes up his nose, down his throat, on full inotropic support. Denise leans over, kisses Mike.

DENISE:

Hi, sweetheart.

J.Q.

Hey, slugger, how are you doing?

Mike smiles weakly, struggles to speak, points to the tubes.

MIKE:

I can't...talk.

J.Q.

Relax, buddy. Get some rest.

Mike closes his eyes. He's really out of it.

J.Q. (CONT'D)

I love you, kid.

Denise reacts to all the flashing numbers on the monitors.

DENISE:

What's all this?

REGGIE:

This is so we can monitor Mike's vitals. Respiratory rate. Pulse oximetry. Heart rate. And this one is blood pressure. Diastolic and systolic.

Reggie points to a bank of monitors. In the middle is a flashing number 88.

REGGIE (CONT'D)

We'd like this top number to stay above ninety, but between eighty-five and ninety is acceptable for now. Anything less than eighty is dangerous. If his blood pressure drops, we're going to have to do something. We can't have him going below seventy again.

DENISE:

What would that mean?

REGGIE:

Seventy and below, he's in heart failure.

Reggie exits. J.Q. and Denise watch the blood pressure monitor, holding steady at 88. Plink. Suddenly, the number drops a notch to 87.

INT. COMPUTER ROOM - SOMEWHERE IN AMERICA - NIGHT

Growing. Names multiplaying. Jones, Baker, Azbirjari, Hererra. The daisy wheel pounds incessantly.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - CARDIO-THORACIC DEPT. - DAY

Eight members Hope Memorial Hospital's administrative staff are seated at a long conference table. Among them are DR. RAYMOND TURNER, mid-40's, REBECCA PAYNE, Hope Memorial Hospital's Administrative Supervisor, and Dr. Marjorie Klein.

PAYNE:

The father works part-time. Mother's a cashier in a supermarket.

DR. KLEIN

how's the family's insurance?

She shakes her head - "we've got a problem." Payne sees J.Q. and Denise enter and she is immediately on her feet.

PAYNE:

Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Archibald. Rebecca Payne, hospital director. This is Doctor Turner, head of our cardiology department.

J.Q.

How's our boy doing?

PAYNE:

Please sit down.

John and Denise sit, and the lights are dimmed. Dr. Turner approaches an illuminated display of X-rays. He uses a pointer to clarify.

DR. TURNER

This X-ray is that of a normal, nine year old heart. This one is your son's.

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