Let me call my supervisor,” Mills said slowly, pulling out his phone as I writhed in agony.

“There’s no time!” Dr. Blake shouted.

“Protocol is protocol,” Mills replied, calmly dialing. The call went to voicemail. He began leaving a long, detailed message, his voice a drone against the symphony of my screams and the frantic beeps of the failing monitors. My vision was tunneling, the edges turning dark.

“Her pressure is dropping fast!” someone shouted.

“Still waiting for authorization,” Mills said into the phone.

The head nurse, a formidable woman with graying hair, strode forward, holding a tablet. “Hospital policy, page 47, section 3, states that custody transfers to medical authority during an emergency surgical procedure. You are now interfering with federal medical guidelines.”