FullReads

“Dr. Frank Cannon diagnosed the President’s illness as a–quote–slight stroke–unquote. Later, after the President had been taken to the Naval Hospital for further diagnosis, Dr. Cannon released a statement. Quote–further tests have enabled the medical staff of this hospital to make a more detailed analysis. Apparently, the President has suffered a slight cerebral hemorrhage which has, temporarily at least, partially paralyzed the muscles of his left side. The President, however, has regained consciousness, and his life is in no danger–Unquote.

“After only sixteen days in the White House, the President has fallen ill. We can only wish him Godspeed and an early recovery.”

* * * * *

Dr. Frank Cannon stood firmly by his brother’s bedside, shaking his head firmly. “No, commander; I cannot permit that. I am in charge of this case, and I shall remain in charge of it until my patient tells me otherwise.”

The graying Navy medical officer pursed his lips. “In cases of this sort, doctor,” he said primly, “the Navy is in charge. The patient is, after all, the President of the United States.”

Dr. Frank went right on shaking his head. “Cuts no ice, commander. I was specifically summoned by the patient. I agreed to take the case. I will be most happy to accept your co-operation; I welcome your advice and aid; but I will not allow my patient to be taken from my charge.”

“It is hardly considered proper for the physician in charge of a serious case to be a relative of the patient.”

“Possibly. But it is neither unethical nor illegal.” He gave the commander a dry smile. “I know my brother, commander. Quite well. I also know that you have the authority and the means to expel me from this hospital.” The smile became positively icy. “And, in view of the former, I should not advise you to exercise the latter.”

The commander wet his lips. “I have no intention of doing so, doctor,” he said rather huffily. “But, inasmuch as the X rays show no–“

There came a mumble from the man on the bed, and, in that instant, both men forgot their differences and became physicians again, as they focused their attention on the patient.

President Cannon was blinking his eyes groggily. Or, rather, eye. The left one refused to do more than show a faint flicker of the lid.

“Hullo, Jamie,” Dr. Frank said gently. “How d’you feel?” It took nerves of steel to show that tender composure. The drug should wear off quickly, but if Jim Cannon’s mind was still fuzzy, and he said the wrong thing–

For a moment, the President said nothing as he tried to focus his right eye.

“Don’t try to move, Mr. President,” said the Navy doctor softly.

President Cannon smiled lopsidedly, the left side of his face refusing to make the effort. “Arright,” he said, in a low, blurred voice. “Wha’ happen’, Frang?”

“Apparently,” said Dr. Frank carefully, “you’ve had a little bit of a stroke, kid. Nothing to worry about. How do you feel?”

“Funny. Li’l dizzy. Don’t hurt, though.”

“Good. Fine. You’ll be O.K. shortly.”

The President’s voice became stronger. “I’m glad you’re here, Frank. Tell me–is it … bad?”

“‘Tain’t good, kid,” Dr. Frank said with a bedside grin. “You can’t expect a stroke to put you in the best of health, now, can you?”

The lopsided smile came back. “Guess not.” The smile went away, to be replaced by a puzzled frown. “My whole left side feels dead. What’s the matter?”

Instead of answering, Dr. Frank Cannon turned to the Navy medic. “I’ll let the commander explain that. What’s your diagnosis, doctor?”

The commander ran his tongue nervously over his lips before speaking. “There’s apparently a small blood clot in the brain, Mr. President, interfering with the functioning of the efferent nerves.”

“Permanent?”

“We don’t know yet, sir. We hope not.”

President Cannon sighed. “Well. Thank you, commander. And now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to my brother–alone.”