Free The Protocol: A Prescription to Die by John P. Goetz Page A

by the NSA and NORAD.
    He just couldn’t say anything.
    “It is also constantly sending us the vitals on every resident once every five minutes. There’s also an alarm for non-movement during the day. The time window for that alarm is set higher though. I think it’s set at ten minutes.”
    “I’m amazed they just don’t have a chip implant.”
    Joey laughed at that.
    “Don’t laugh. It’s out there. They do it for dogs. No stretch to get that for humans. I’m sure someone is experimenting with it.”
    “The monitors are the cool part; it’s been a big help. The other half of the pie though is taking a bit longer to accept. Three doctors and four nurses have already left since Aequalis took over. Aequalis wanted them to retire anyway. It used to be one nurse per floor. I had the fifth. But now I have the third, fourth, and fifth.”
    “What’s this about a panel in DC?” asked Eat.
    “It’s part of the new law. IPAB. Independent Payment Advisory Board, or something like that. It’s some group that reviews everything we do, and either denies or approves it. I haven’t had too much interaction with it yet. I’ve just heard about it.”
    Joey was visibly uncomfortable.
    “Enough of that though. We’re here to talk about Betty Lou, not to commiserate on how my job has been hijacked by some bureaucrat,” Joey laughed uncomfortably then looked up at the ceiling. “If someone is listening, I didn’t say that.”
    “Too late. You’re screwed,” Eat said. He was half joking but knew what kind of technology really existed. If they were monitoring as much as it sounded, they heard everything the two men had said.
    Eat just didn’t know who “they” were.
    Yet.
    Joey returned his attention to the manila folder, and started reading the report bound to the right cover flap.
    “I’m surprised you don’t have that on a laptop or something. Paper is so,” Eat paused for effect, grimaced, and rolled his eyes. “Twentieth century.”
    “I know. I know,” said Joey as he rolled his eyes. “Technically, we’re not supposed to print anything out. But I don’t have a way to view things up here yet. I’ve been told that each of us will have a laptop assigned sometime next week. Until then,” he rustled the paper, “It’s old world technology and tree eradication.”
    “So, how’s she doing?”
    “Well, according to this report, she’s doing fine. There’s some new data here that I’ve never seen before but I’ll figure it out, and let you know what it means. Let’s see. Hemoglobin, iron, lipids, oxygen saturation are well within the norm for a woman her age. Red blood cell count looks good. White blood cell count is still a bit high.”
    “Still a bit high? Why would that be?”
    “Kidney infection, remember?”
    Eat nodded. “Forgot about that.”
    “It typically takes a bit of time to get back to normal after an infection. The body likes to keep a contingent army of white blood cells out there just in case those little bacteria buggers think they can regroup and re-attack.”
    Joey looked up at Eat seemingly to see if he was following along. Eat nodded back.
    “Now here’s the new piece of data that I’ve never seen before. Telomere. It says she’s a 10 and the range is 1 to 10. It also indicates that Aequalis considers that high for her neurological condition. I’m going to have to do some research. Like I said, I’m not sure what that means. It’s new.”
    “What was she taking for the infection?”
    “Pen VK.”
    “Penicillin. Ok.”
    “But that regimen has expired. I don’t think Aequalis has approved anything else for her.”
    “Why would they have any say? Don’t you and the doctor control that?”
    “Not really. Not any more, at least. We can recommend. They now approve and redefine all of the treatment protocols. The medicine is dispensed in the pharmacy with the patient’s name on it along with the dosage instructions. We know what we’re providing, but no longer