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THREAD: It was supposed to be a routine surgery. So when the doctor stepped out, Sandra Parker wasn’t sure she heard right. Her husband’s heart couldn’t have stopped for more than 5 or 6 minutes, the doctor was saying. “That’s not a lot of time,” Mrs. Parker thought. “Is it?”

2/ Few people trusted Phoebe Putney Memorial Hospital like Anthony Parker. For much of the time he and his wife had lived in Albany, GA, he’d served on the board of directors, one of the few African Americans invited to do so. Anthony, the hospital said, was “Phoebe Family.”

3/ Now, as Anthony lay in the hospital room, Mrs. Parker was trying to remind herself he was in good hands. The critical care team said they had a plan.

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4/ It appeared the cardiac arrest hadn’t caused any significant harm to Anthony’s heart. The issue was his oxygen-starved brain. So for the next 72 hours, the team recommended hypothermia treatment to cool his body down, slow his metabolism and reduce his brain’s need for oxygen.

5/ Mrs. Parker said she could wait. “Hell, we can stand on our heads for 72 hours if we need to,” she told one of her daughters. Then, 24 hours in, she heard from someone she barely knew: a middle manager in Phoebe’s HR department.

6/ You don’t want to move your husband to Emory or somewhere? The woman whispered. Shouldn’t you get him out of here? The question seemed inappropriate. “We’re good,” Mrs. Parker said firmly. “I appreciate your concern, but we’re good.”

7/ After all, that’s what Anthony had always done. When doctors shared concerns about poor patient outcomes, Anthony questioned their actions, not Phoebe’s. When friends complained about loved ones dying in Phoebe’s care, he said he was confident Phoebe acted appropriately.

A cousin of mine went in for a routine change of batteries on her pacemaker. She was in her 30s, married, with two young children. She died on the table.