A mother asks: ‘Will my son get the care he needs?’

It took them two hours to reach Atlanta from the North Georgia mountains. They faced me across the body of their son. His father looked down, unable to meet my gaze. But his mother stared deep into my eyes — searching for a sign.

The noise of the emergency room faded as a nurse closed the heavy doors to the trauma room. Their son, comatose, was motionless, his ventilator hissing rhythmically at 10 breaths per minute.

I spoke first. “It was a terrible crash,” I explained. “His truck left the road at high speed. The ambulance crew saw that he was severely injured, and called a helicopter. He has several injuries — a collapsed lung, internal bleeding. But his brain injury worries us the most.”

That’s when she interrupted. “Doctor,” she said, “I don’t know how to say this, but I must. My husband lost his job six weeks ago. I work, but my employer doesn’t offer health insurance. I have to ask: Will my son get the care he needs?”

Then she started to cry.

“Ma’am, you’re at Grady Memorial Hospital,” I told her. “Our doctors are the best in the South. We choose to work here because we believe in what this hospital stands for. I swear to you — we will do everything in our power to save your son.”

I meant what I said that night, but I didn’t tell her the whole truth.

I didn’t tell her that our best might not be good enough, and if her son survived, he might be disabled for the rest of his life. I didn’t tell her that she and her husband would be billed for the helicopter flight, and weeks in intensive care. And the total charges might exceed $100,000, perhaps more.

I didn’t tell her that she and her husband will likely empty their savings and mortgage their home, but it still won’t be enough.

And I didn’t tell her that the unpaid balance of her son’s bill will push Grady closer to insolvency; closer to its own crash.

And if Grady closes, metro Atlanta and North Georgia will lose its only Level 1 trauma center, burn unit, emergency psychiatric unit and 750 inpatient beds.

But by staying silent, by withholding the truth, I left her with something we both needed — hope.

Hope that her son will beat the odds. Hope that Emory researchers will discover an effective treatment for brain injury, so future victims will have a better chance of recovery. Hope that Georgia will fund a statewide trauma network, so everyone can benefit from top-quality trauma care.

And finally, hope that someday, perhaps soon, this great nation of ours will finally cover the uninsured, so no more mothers will need to ask, “Will my son get the care he needs?”

• Dr. Arthur Kellermann is an Emory professor and Grady doctor.