Dying For A Drink

Darlene didn't learn much when she called Fiji 90 minutes after the ambulance departed. She says one member told her, ""You have to understand--this was a very big night at our fraternity house.'' Another said that Scott fell asleep while drinking and then got sick, so the brothers moved him to a couch in his basement room. ""You left my son passed out and throwing up?'' she shot back. The young man's answer: ""We weren't gone long, Mrs. Krueger. We just went up to have another drink.''

According to notes Darlene scribbled during the call, the Fijis returned to find Scott ""turning purple.'' Vomit, including pieces of pizza, blocked his windpipe. At some point, his heart quit beating. The Fijis had called MIT police, who alerted Boston 911. Schwartzstein says ER personnel managed to restart his heart. But an infuriated Darlene couldn't learn how long it might have stopped--a clue to how damaged his brain and organs would be.

When she reached Boston, Darlene got her first briefing in a tiny hospital waiting room. Outside were three Fijis who'd spent the night there. Scott was unchanged. Inhaling his own vomit had seriously damaged his lungs. A CT scan detected swelling of the brain. A neurologist who examined him said little but looked worried. ""When will he come out of this?'' Darlene asked. The answer: ""We don't know if he will.'' Darlene begged: ""Just fix my kid!''

Bob and the couple's three other children--Kelly, Katie and younger brother Jeff--arrived in midafternoon. By Saturday night the Kruegers had been visited by an MIT dean--and by Boston homicide detectives who had learned that Scott might not survive. Sunday brought better news: the doctor was guardedly optimistic. But by midafternoon Scott's pupils had grown large and fixed. His cortex pushed down on his brain stem. More tests confirmed that Scott would not survive. Late Sunday, the Kruegers concluded that their son would die the next day.

Scott's kidneys were shutting down, his face was puffy, his pupils wildly dilated. It was time for his family to make the call. His siblings argued that if he could, Scott would sit up and say, ""Get this junk off me.'' Darlene resisted. She wouldn't relent until everything that would happen after Scott's death--the autopsy, the embalming--had been planned. The last detail was making sure everyone knew the family would be taking Scott home. ""He's going in our car,'' Darlene announced. ""No questions asked.''

A NURSE WASHED SCOTT'S HAIR. His family gathered around, parents on one side of his bed, siblings on the other. Final tests confirmed no brain-stem function. At 6:40 p.m., Schwartzstein announced, ""I'm pronouncing him dead at this time.'' He detached the ventilator tube from a shorter endotrachial tube sticking out of Scott's mouth, and switched off the respiration, heartbeat and blood-pressure alarms that otherwise would quickly sound. Twenty minutes later, a computer monitor over Scott's bed signaled that his vitals had flat-lined.